#Why yes I did Google pranks for offices how could you tell

[mushroom-for-art]

Lmao I was inspired, I'm meant to be writing the horrors and yet the movie au dorks are at the helm, featuring the wonderful @oogaboogaspookyman s monochromatic actor

April fools

May casually walked down a hallway within the studio before sliding into broom closet to her left with efficient quiet her back bumping into the monochrome two already hiding in said broom closet who made a slightly startled squeak at their close proximity though May didn't care much keeping her back to him but tilting her head up slightly to look at him.

"You got the goods?" She asked though in a hushed tone.

"Why do you say it like this is some mafia trade?"

He sighed softly at her antics as she turned to face him properly.

"Because you're trading your goods, for my services," she cast a wink as she poked his chest lightly, unable to see his embarrassed expression for the dark of the closet. "And if you don't got my goods well buddy boy this deal is gonna fall through and you may like me so much because I can be real dangerous when I don't get what I'm owed," though she threatened her voice was entirely playful.

"This mafia movie you're shooting is getting to your nogging. But yes I have 'the goods'."

He exaggerated with quotation marks finally turning the closet light on earning a hiss and what the fuck from May at the sudden light as he pulled out a large carry on bag, he unzipped it slowly for emphasis opening it to reveal it loaded with different kinds of treats.

"Hersheys, Moreos of varying delightful flavors for your enjoyment, aero bars, dairy milks, milky way buttons large, caramac, Pokey sticks, reeses pieces, m&ms and many other delightful treats await."

He quickly closed it, zipping it up closed.

"If you can hold up your end of the deal."

"Darlin' you were just speaking my language, don't you worry toots, I'll treat you right." She grinned playfully doing some sort of accent as she booped his nose, "though, surely you could part with something, for my troubles, call it a down payment hmm, keep me sweet? Gonna treat me well Shugs?" She put her hands on his chest as though fiddling with an invisible tie.

"You're enjoying this too much."

He snorted softly but chuckled finding her demeanor somewhat amusing as he pulled out a random thing he paused ripping off the packaging with his teeth before holding the chocolate bar out for her watching her just bite the chocolate and hold it in her teeth with a grin, she gave him a wink and slipped out of the closet as he sighed zipping up the carry bag and hiding it for later.

It was in honesty a difficult job, he wanted her to complete many tasks in advance for April fools, he was always the butt of jokes, but not this year! This year he had help.

It started when everyone had left to go home, she put her plan into motion, firstly the put all the cameras on loop to cover her tracks, secondly she hit the bathrooms carrying carrier bags of jeans and shoes she set them up matching up shoes and trousers in the mens to make every stall appear occupied locking them all from the inside and putting out of order signs on all the doors to cause frustration and the reasonable idea that all of them were full due to the previous closures.

Next she booby trapped different doors and chairs, taping Foghorns so when the door was slammed open or chair sat in it would honk loudly and startle people, she hid them all over some obvious to throw them off the tracks some very expertly hidden. She also took this time to sneak Rubber chickens and whoopee cushions under seats and cushions. On Marie's desk she put a paper cup with "Spinarak inside! Very big! Only lift cup if you're ready to get rid of it!" She'd asked a local Spinarak to make an exit hole in the cup so it looked as though a large spider escaped and it looked authentic.

She removed the bottom of Derricks keyboard carefully, in honesty this one was personal as he has been incredibly rude and quite mean to her for no reason for quite some time, she carefully placed down tissue paper and super fast growing seeds, watering them generously and offering a little psychic help and replacing the keyboard top, and did the same to his work station so when he came tomorrow it would be taken over by nature.

She hit Kathleen's office next, this one was personal to her monochrome friend as she'd not been doing her job properly and fucked up his appointments, she looped a ziptie around a Febreze spray bottle trigger, "fire in the hole!" She pulled it tight and threw it into her office, closing the door as it hissed letting out all its content. In all honesty she would've used a fake fart spray herself but she figured monochrome just wasn't that evil.

Finally, her magnus opus, she spilled hundred upon hundreds of sticky pads and concentrating her psychic energy they flew everywhere sticking to everything along halls window chairs plants set pieces everything! It was a whirlwind of color and chaos.

When she finished she kisses her fingers in an exaggerated mwah of her brilliance before setting the cameras to start recording live footage seconds before the new work day began leaving no trace of her crimes. With that she slipped away into the night to her movie trailer, she preferably would've been enjoying her prize but he's clearly hidden or taken it with him because she couldn't find it.

The next day was complete and utter chaos, there was accusatory yelling frustrated screams, loud HONKS of Foghorns and Kathleen came running out her office coughing and gagging at the overwhelming Febreze scent while Derrick yelled and raged over his computer. He smashed it into a wall and punched a hole into a door before higher management called him into their office. In all honesty probably would've been easy to remove the plants but he was a hot headed asshole anyways.

A worker pointed an accusing finger at ??? Shouting that it must have been him. The boss quickly told them that no it couldn't be because the monochrome one was with him. Another pointed at May, "then her then! She used her powers to do it!" They cried.

"Me? I, I mean I don't know how to break it to you but I'm not the most gifted with psychic abilities," she frowned a sad frown managing a very sad voice that was pitiful without it being obvious that was the intention. Monochrome was impressed by her acting as another worker snapped at them saying that May wasn't capable of such a thing, stop being an asshole.

It halted all work and filming that day as everyone worked to clean up the unexplained mess of pranks with more yelling as hidden jumping snake pranks leapt out from places at cleaning workers. May effectively bumbled along as though just as unsure as everyone else despite knowing where they all were leaping in fright with a squeal at the peanut spring snakes and getting shocked by hidden shockers to really strengthen the image of innocence.

May collapsed onto her bed in her trailer exhausted, setting it up and taking it down was tiresome stuff. She grumbled to herself that her supposed friend hadn't looked at her once or made any indication of trade off, angrily thumping her tail into her bed at his betrayal. She'd get him for that as she snuggled her cushion.

She groaned as someone knocked on her trailer door dragging herself out of her comfy bed.

"Imma coming Imma coming it better be worth it," she emptily threatened as she opened the door to the monochrome bastard she was just thinking about. "You." He smiles at her unaware of his supposed treachery.

"Yes? Me-eh!"

She yanked him into her trailer with one hand holding him against a counter, "you got a lot of nerve showing up you slippery snake." His mouth hand open in confusion as he awkwardly ah'ed? Before making an oh holding up the carry on bag of sweets.

"I didn't want to give it to you where people could see in case they suspected anything. Honest!"

She eyed him taking the carry on with one hand keeping the other holding him to the counter using her teeth to open the zip and stick her nose in sniffing, yup, smelt like sweets in there and it was heavy.

"Hm." She removed her hand to stop pinning him, "you're forgiven, could've been mighty bad for you otherwise pardner"

"Western mafia huh?"

She nodded as she pulled out some Pokey sticks, nodding firmly as she popped one in her mouth confirming around the biscuit, "Western mafia." He chuckled as he watched her nibble the Pokey slowly making it disappear into her mouth seemingly satisfied with the trade off.

"Am I free to leave unharmed?"

May chuckled, stepping aside so he could get to the door, popping another Pokey in her mouth with a "suppose." He grinned putting his hand on the door he paused and leant over close biting the pokey and snapping it before rushing out the door as she stood there in confusion.

"The fuck??" She finished chewing what was left of her Pokey. "What a bastard."

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳april’s fool ♡

in which fred weasley is in love with y/n l/n, the girl he happens to tease and insult profusely for her attention. 

fred weasley x gryffindor!fem!reader 

word count: ±4.3k 

tw: food, fireworks, pranking, fred being a bully, tad bits of swearing

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. minnie, dumbledore and severus

yeah, your grandmama probably know me 

get more bottles, these bottles are lonely

it's a moment when I show up, got 'em sayin', "wow"

april’s fool 

“tomorrow is april fools,” dumbledore sighs. 

“you know what that means...?” mcgonagall asks, her voice on edge.

“the twins,” snape replies quickly, not even bothered one bit as he sips his dark coffee.

“and their pranks,” dumbledore dramatically rolls over in his armchair.

“okay and?” 

“they’re a hazard, severus!” mcgonagall replies.

“that doesn’t stop them.”

“what will stop them?” dumbledore ponders, eyes faint with interest. 

“you still have those weird buzzy fireworks right?” snape asks. 

“of course.”

“and minnie, you have the cake mix your grandmother gave you?”

“still in my cupboard next to the biscuits.”

“excellent.”

y/n l/n listens from the other side of the door, grinning. she’s been called to mcgonagall’s lavish office for some business she hopes isn’t trouble, but the conversation the three are deeply invested in piques her interest. 

she likes fun. the type of continuous laughter and uncontrollable fits of giggles at noon. that’s why she enjoys the pranks the twins play. they’re bold, sharp and reckless and have the undoubtable trademark of fred and george on them.

one too a many times she’s been on the receiving end of them. one time the twins had charmed the library so that she and other studious students could not find any books that they wanted or needed for a whole week. 

another time, her hair had been dyed bright pink. she wasn’t a fan of it, but tried her best to rock it. it worked. y/n had received many compliments on her bubblegum pink locks. 

she laughed it off a lot. whenever something quite embarrassing happened, it was usually funny. 

even the snide remarks the older twin always cast her way.

including the time he called her a blackhead. well, multiple times. 

“oi, l/n, looking like a blackhead.”

george had rolled his eyes at his brother before adding kindly, “at least you have nice hair. your tie’s always shiny too.”

she had just laughed, “at least i’ve got the blackhead looks to pull pink hair off, weasley, you can’t even pull off ginger hair, and thanks, georgie. love ya.”

fred had looked taken aback, but y/n still scowls at the memory. she gets she isn’t pretty, but there is a line you don’t cross when trying to insult someone.

he always calls her the most awful nicknames too; body parts that align with her name and random pieces of rubbish she isn’t bothered to remember.

she shakes herself of her thoughts and draws herself up, knocking thrice on the door lightly.

“come in,” mcgonagall’s calm tone beckons.

“good afternoon professors!” she chirps, smiling at all three.

they smile back. even snape. they’re big fans of the girl, who’s studious but mischievous. albus dumbledore has always thought that y/n’s eyes always look like all she’s seen is a beautiful sunset. 

“now you must wonder why i called you here,” mcgonagall starts.

“you see, how have you punished the weasley twins when they play all those pranks on you?” dumbledore eagerly asks. 

y/n gives a light laugh, “i just prank them back. i won’t get detention for this, right?” she jokes.

they laugh, “of course you will,” snape jokes back and for a second y/n is surprised that severus snape, the ever so cold potions professor, is cracking jokes. especially to her. 

“well then, i guess i can’t tell you how i prank them back then,” she drawls dramatically.

“no, no, do tell, we’re, what do you young people say?” mcgonagall pauses, “ahh yes! we’re all ears!”

y/n bursts out laughing, “okay, i usually do something that’s subtle enough but still very noticeable. they need to be anonymous too, or that’ll start prank wars and i’m only looking for short term pleasure really. one time, i dumped a whole bunch of polyjuice potion in both their little goblets. fred became george and george became fred. they were so confused.”

mcgonagall is impressed. 

“can you bake?” dumbledore asks and y/n shakes her head for a long time. 

“can’t bake for my sanity.”

“awesome. that is what i thought too,” dumbledore answers and y/n smiles. 

a single knock sounds. it’s proper and formal. 

“come in!” mcgonagall yells.

draco malfoy in all his glory steps into the room, eyes alight with concern, ever so indifferent. 

y/n knows him from quidditch. they’ve become relatively good friends, though she thinks he is very busy with his home life. she also knows that there’s more to him than the facade he has.

“afternoon,” he nods and gives a charming smile. 

“now, draco, i understand your mother had enrolled you in baking classes,” snape says. 

draco nods. 

“you must bake a cake,” mcgonagall hands him the cake mix.

she hands y/n the box of fireworks and winks. 

“good day professors! make sure to be at breakfast tomorrow!” y/n shouts, dragging draco with her to the kitchens. 

soon draco is laughing with y/n, at her atrocious puns and lightly placed jokes, finding himself very much happy. he’s not interested in her romantically, he simply enjoys her company. he’s even sharing some funny stories of his own too.

“...and i told him, to precisely fuck off.”

“so that’s how you deal with him!”

“oh no, he didn’t stop. he kept bugging me.”

“what did you do then?”

“i cast a muffliato charm on him.”

y/n bursts into laughter as they pass the gryffindor common room, quickly hiding the box of fireworks in her cloak as she spots two red heads quietly snickering by the fat lady. 

they notice the unlikely pair scurrying down the stairs. 

“hey, google eyes!” fred shouts. 

y/n doesn’t know fred well enough to decide if that greeting is dedicated to herself, so she continues upon her way. 

“weasley,” draco states. 

“huh?” y/n fakes oblivion. 

draco jerks his head in the way of the twins, where fred is smirking handsomely, leaning against the wall in a model-like fashion. 

george is shaking his head in dismay. 

“i said googly eyes!” fred shouts again.

y/n won’t lie, she thinks fred has undoubtedly good looks and his ginger hair is cute. he’s just a terrible person. to her, at least. she knows she’s biased, she’s often seen fred comforting ginny after a bad fight with a boyfriend, and from what she’s heard from alicia and angelina and katie, he’s funny too. 

she whips out her glasses and stares deadpan at him, before rolling her eyes and running with draco down the stairs, laughing like madmen.

they finish baking late at night, and waving her wand smartly over the cake, y/n produces a charm that will make the fireworks activate as soon as the cake is cut open. 

draco smiles as he pipes purple and orange roses, writing a ‘happy bday fred and george’ in chocolate letters. 

they add lots of sprinkles, hoping to seem like avid admirers of the twins. 

“does miss l/n and misters malfoy need any assistance?” a house elf asks.

draco just about opens his mouth to snap a ‘no’ when y/n gives him a silencing look.

“thank you rosemarie, but that is not needed, you are welcome to watch and talk with us though,” y/n politely answers, giving her a grin. 

the house elf sniffles, “miss l/n is too nice! rosemarie will make some hot chocolate for her! pretty hair!”

y/n laughs, “thank you very much, rosemarie. i think mister malfoy would also like some hot chocolate, with a tiny bit of firewhiskey, if that’s alright with you,” she winks at draco who just scoffs in reply. 

when they’re finished with the cake and the hot chocolate, y/n enters the gryffindor common room. angelina takes the cake and wraps it up in a box and nice wrapping paper. she sends it flying to the twins’ usual spot on the gryffindor table. 

“thanks angie!” y/n smiles, getting up from the cozy spot near the fire in the common room. 

“why are you going? we’re staying up till midnight for the twins’ birthday; wanna join?” angelina asks. 

y/n shakes her head, “i’m not too close with them, it seems like a rather intimate ceremony,” she keeps her words fluffy and light. really, she would join any birthday celebration, but she didn’t think she could handle the constant insults and annoying comments fred always made about her. and this would have been completely acceptable if she had done something to any one of the weasleys, but she hadn’t. she even regards ginny weasley as a little sister and was invited to one of ginny’s infamous slumber parties. okay, she might have a little crush on him for his joke-ish nature, but it’s nothing she can’t get over. he’s out of her league, for sure, she thinks. and terribly rude. she doesn’t understand why she still harbours those feelings for him. maybe because that time adrian pucey was mocking her for her ‘blood purity’ he stood up for her. or that time she hurt herself at quidditch and fred stayed up with her bandaging her wound. he cared when it mattered, she guesses. 

“i’m sure they would love you there.”

“fat chance,” she scoffs, “have a good night!”

she goes to her own dormitory up the stairs. she’s well known in gryffindor house, but for different reasons than the twins may be. although she’s close with angie and alicia, she’s not close with the twins. mainly because she’s always studying, playing quidditch, and doing prefect things. 

being on a quidditch team with fred weasley is bearable. mainly because she’s the captain. 

she’s stopped by a large hand on her shoulder. the owner of the hand swivels and suddenly a grinning fred is revealed. 

“where’re you going?” fred weasley’s annoying voice pronounces. 

“the sahara desert,” she snaps back dryly, “you’re in the way of my world exploration.”

“am i, really?”

“‘course,” she reigns her attitude in, “nice night, isn’t it?”

“for you? never.”

she scowls. fred watches in utter amusement as she takes a deep breath and charmingly smiles. 

“dearest freddie, will you please allow me to get to my dorm so i can have some sleep?”

fred’s heart skips a little at the nickname but shakes his head. 

“what’s the password?”

y/n sighs. “i don’t know. y/n is a blackhead. googly eyes. whatevers.”

fred lets out a loud laugh. y/n finds herself trying hard not to laugh with him. 

she turns around, ready to find her hufflepuff friend that has a spare bed in their dormitory, knowing fred is really stubborn.

“that’s not the password.”

“well, good night.” she walks off, before intensely diving in a style harry potter himself would be proud of, onto the stairs and running up the dorms laughing. 

fred stands at the bottom of the stairs, dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open. 

“close your mouth, flies will be caught,” he heard the giggling voice of y/n.

“close yours and you’ll look better,” he insults back. 

“oh shut up. we know i’m the prettier one. and that’s saying something.”

the next morning, fred and george wake up to presents, a rowdy common room, and a nice cake sitting waiting for them on the gryffindor table. 

for the first time, y/n takes a seat opposite them, her eyes alight with the familiar mischief they always held. she steals glances at the professors, who were beaming down with interest, as if they shared an inside joke. draco malfoy has an odd smirk on his pale face. 

all eyes are on them as they cut open the cake. with a bang, fireworks come flying out of the cake in all directions, sending crumbs and icing flying in the air and leaving soot on the twin’s faces. their ginger hair is covered neatly with white icing and the fireworks continue for a calamitous five minutes. everyone’s too busy laughing and trying to dodge the flying cake to see that y/n l/n and draco malfoy are laughing quietly in a corner together, both with spells like umbrellas. 

fred’s eyes, however, are trained on y/n, who’s rolling over in laughter. he quickly casts a scourgify on himself and george, and strides casually over to her and malfoy, the usual lazy smirk on his face as he hears ‘draco ohmygosh that was the best. your cake decos are on point! d’ya think he’ll ever bully me again?’. that confirms his suspicions. she did play this prank on him. and it makes him feel fuzzy inside.

his face then contorts into a frown. she thinks he bullies her? 

“i wouldn’t say he bullies you, y/n.”

he smiles. never mind.

“but it isss! i can assure you, there is absolutely nothing nice ‘bout being called a frame!”

fred snorts at the time y/n had been gushing adorably over a picture frame that was embellished with gold and bronze flowers to angelina. he had went over and in an attempt to catch her attention, said ‘you’re a frame’.

sure, he was good at flirting, but not to the girls he really really liked. 

“that’s fucking funny,” malfoy laughs. 

“oh shut it draco, your face is funny. but yeah, i should probably ask him to start fresh.”

he decides to interrupt their conversation. 

“ask who to start fresh?” he butts in. 

y/n doesn’t even look surprised, “in fact, you, fred, because i’m not really sure if i’ve done anything wrong to you or anything, and by my memory i don’t think i have and you keep being rude and stuff. if i have, i’m really sorry for it and i’m sorry that i hurt you and all. if we can y’know, start over, and maybe be friends?” she catches the unreadable look in fred’s eyes and hesitates, “or maybe not, that’s okay, we don’t need to!” she gives a small laugh, “er, sorry for ever bringing it up?”

the earnestness of her tone and the wistful look in her eyes makes fred fall a little harder. ever since he saw her nervously fiddling with her robes in first year, he’s been smitten. 

there’s a silence. malfoy has slipped off, the sneaky bastard. 

fred simply takes y/n’s hand, giving her a look as if to ask for permission. 

she swallows and nods. 

they’re in the courtyard, which is sunny and light. flowers are blooming everywhere. 

“can i kiss you?” fred asks.

y/n’s eyebrows go up. “what?”

“can i kiss you?” fred repeats patiently. 

“as in kiss? k-i-s-s?” y/n asks, eyes wide with suspicion and curiosity.

“yep,” he chuckles, “crazy, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you’re crazy.”

“really? can i kiss you?”

“i’ve never really kissed anyone.”

“i guessed that.”

her eyebrows furrowed in hurt, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i’ll tell you if you let me kiss you.”

“there better be a good reason because i was saving it for someone special.”

“i need a yes, love.”

she huffs, “yes.” she won’t tell him that she has a crush on him, because to be honest, she still isn’t sure if this is a prank or not.

she surprised when fred tilts her head up ever so gently, a smile on his face.

this kiss is short and sweet. he tastes like cinnamon.

when they’ve let go, fred notices the light pink dusted over her cheeks. he smirks. 

“you have to tell me why you thought i’ve never kissed anyone,” she said, eyes flashing in deep thought.

“such a beautiful person as you does not deserve kisses from anyone.”

“...” 

fred took this as a sign to go on. “the reason i’ve always teased you endlessly is because i want your attention. i didn’t think you’d give it to me any other way. if you haven’t noticed, i’m in love with you. i think you’re absolutely beautiful, both ways. i love it when you frown and get annoyed, even if you rarely do, i love it when you study so hard your face makes this really concentrated look. i love it especially when you laugh and smile and joke and play pranks. even if they’re on me.”

“...” she was studying his movements. inside her brain, a frenzy was going on. part of her brain- the ever so optimistic part, was screaming happily, and the logical part was using body language to analyse whether he was lying or not.

eyes? their honey brown colour was glistening with affection and truth, an expression so dainty on his face. 

a quaint little smile was on his lips, a small one, a genuine one. it was different to all the other smiles she’d seen him smile. 

he wasn’t acting, she decided. if he was, he should take up a job in broadway. 

“y/n?”

her brows were furrowed. she’d never been confessed to as genuinely as this before. 

if they started this type of relationship would he still be mean and insult her all the time?

“i-i need time. to figure this out.”

he doesn’t look disappointed, she thinks. instead he looks down at her with... adoration?

“of course, sweetness, anything, i’ll wait for you.”

she smiles, “thank you, freddie.” 

☆

it’s been a few days since fred’s confessed to her. she’s still unsure if he was joking or not. why?

at this moment, she’s watching him giggle with angelina johnson. it seems like he’s forgotten everything and anything. he’s gotten closer to her. maybe he’s lost feelings for y/n? she can’t blame angie, she’s a wonderful girl. if he likes her, that’s fine too. suddenly her feelings for him become very clear. she like-likes him. and it’s a bit too late.

but maybe he doesn’t like angie in that way? maybe he’s still into her? 

y/n knows molly weasley raises her children with patience. she should trust that fred’s waiting for her. 

but then again, she’s never gonna be as special as angie johnson. she’s just a ever so polite and outgoing nerd. someone who’s foolish enough to prank. angie’s smart, confident and funny and terribly patient. and effortlessly beautiful. she’s got the true gryffindor touch. and angie’s been one of fred’s best friends since day one. she’s always gonna be number 1. 

that’s ok. she’ll accept it. she likes angie anyway. it was probably a joke anyway. 

she couldn’t be jealous, just a bit dismayed that it wasn’t genuine. whatever, she thinks. we can just go back to how we were before. or not. 

and it’s relatively easy. they never really saw much of each other anyway. she’ll get over this tiny little liking. 

it’ll just be like normal. none of this happened. none of it. she grimaces bitterly, damning fred for his stupid games. should’ve known this was another of his pranks. but his acting though, certainly very good. 

she smiles to herself.

“knock it off, y/n, you’re here to learn, not to love.”

and that answer, is satisfactory. 

she gets up from her spot on the gryffindor table rather abruptly, saying goodbye to her friends, and makes her way to the kitchens. she knows she won’t be alone, she’ll talk to hansel and gretel, the twins that cook with the house elves every dinner.

they’re cleaning up as she walks in, book in hand. 

“hi hans, g!” she calls, as she rolls up the sleeves of her sweater to help them with the dishes. 

“y/n!” gretel gives her a hug with soapy arms and y/n giggles.

“how are both of you?” y/n asks. 

“good, good, potions though...” hansel trails off and they all laugh.

“potions is always like that,” y/n agrees, “it’s supposed to be really hard for newts, so you can’t really blame the subject.”

“i’m thinking of dropping divination,” gretel says.

“yeah, that’s wise, gretel buns,” hansel teases and gretel scowls. 

“divination is an easy subject, gretel, you just need to make random stuff up. i saw this weird bear thing in polly’s tea leaves, it wasn’t in the textbook. i told trelawney it was a symbol that a stranger would come and whip polly off her feet, with a whip the colour of the rarest german emeralds, leaving her absolutely smitten. i got full marks,” y/n laughs. 

they laugh too, and soon a light flowing conversation is shared over cups of hot chocolate. 

this is repeated for quite a few days and y/n even invites polly, marla and lenox, her best friends, to join. it’s a delicate, nice kind of week, one that suits her current struggles. 

when the weekends roll around, hansel and gretel suggest that they all sit at the hufflepuff table. they share jokes and quips over the food, y/n reading a book as she bites happily into apple pie.

“pfft,” her lips upturn ever so slightly at the quote that the character makes. 

fred watches her from the gryffindor table, utterly confused. y/n’s been avoiding him. he sees the flashes of hurt that run through her eyes whenever she sees him, and the quick grin that’s far too fake that follows. she’s been reading a lot more and he never sees her anymore. 

he wonders what he’s doing wrong. so as he sees her walking with her friends to hogsmeade, he calls for her. 

“y/n!”

her friends giggle as they see him, but she gives him a fleeting glance and raises her eyebrows at them, shaking her head, before profusely apologising to each one of them.

she approaches him warily, with all practicality in mind. she leads with her heart, but her head protects her. 

fool me once, shame on you.

fool me twice, shame on me.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he states.

“what would you expect?” she snaps, “isn’t this all a good laugh for you anyway?”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you know what i mean, this was all a joke, wasn’t it? fooling my poor little heart which you know has a crush on you. my head simply won’t allow it. admit it, and we can both move on with our lives,” her tone is sharp and cold, her eyes burning with fury and hurt, “i may seem gullible, and i am,” she gave a short laugh, “but when i notice, don’t even try to lie.”

“this wasn’t a joke, love.”

“don’t call me that, and you and i both know it is. your acting though, absolutely superb!” 

“what makes you think this was a prank, y/n? you were the one who asked for time.”

“yes, and the time made me realise that i had feelings for you despite all the teasing AND the fact you couldn’t possibly be genuine!” y/n says exasperatedly, her fury dissolving quickly, “you looked so in place with angie and everyone that it’s so obviously some sort of fun thing you did to try to get back at me!”

“angie?”

“a-and everyone else.”

“angie?” fred’s eyes were amused.

“you know, angelina, as in johnson.”

“angie?”

y/n shrugs, “you did bring her to the yule ball last year.”

“angie??!!!” fred was full on smirking now, as if trying to receive a real response. 

“i think you like her, okay?! are we done here? i’d very much like a good book from f&b,” y/n sighs. 

“i’ll accompany you to flourish and botts. why would you think i like her? didn’t i just confess to you?”

“yeah but it seemed kinda...” y/n trails off, not wanting her insecurities to come off as compliment fishing, “kinda far-fetched.”

“meaning?” fred knows exactly what she means.

“you know!” 

“oh but i don’t,” he smiles innocently.

“well, you’re you!” 

“is that supposed to be an insult?” he asks, faking a look of hurt rather well as y/n looks alarmed. 

“no, no, as in, you’re nice to look at, and you’ve always insulted me and been so nice and cool to everyone. are you for real?”

“nice to look at?” a cocky grin is on his face now, much more noticeable than the slight blush that was creeping up his face.

“is that the only thing you could pick up?” 

“nice to look at? what’s up with me repeating myself today?”

y/n lets out an agitated sigh. he doesn’t know, he’s blunt and straightforward. she likes cushioning her words.

“y’know, handsome? good looking?”

“my middle names.” another smirk to conceal the blushing. 

y/n smiles. “of course, everyone knows it.”

it makes fred uncomfortable. her light tone is a bit menacing too. 

“only joking.”

“i’m sure everyone does know it, darling.”

y/n is too busy looking at the dog that passes by to hear him, rambling quietly to herself over the cute scottish terrier.

“sorry, what was that?”

“aren’t i cuter than the dog?”

“nup.”

“really?” fred casually slings an arm over y/n’s shoulders, having to stoop a little lower to reach her.

“i think so.”

“well i’ll tell you something love, i think you’re absolutely stunning.”

“some love potion you’re on.”

“uh huh, the love potion is called love, sweetness.”

“so you’re for real?”

“as real as you and me.”

“you’re cheesy. this isn’t a prank right?”

“not at all, i love you.”

“i-i don’t think i love you just yet, but i think it’s possible,” y/n bites her lip, anxiously awaiting his response.

she tilts her head to look at him. 

he’s beaming. he looks more handsome than ever, a sweet smile etched on his face as he looks down at her in utter adoration.

“you have a crush on me!” he pulls her into a hug and giggles like a little girl, kissing the top of her head.

she’s engulfed by the smell of burning wood and cinnamon and immediately feels safe in his strong arms. 

“how’d you say we go on a date? so i can show how sorry i am for all the times i called you googly eyes and played pranks on you.”

“i’ll check to see if the girls are okay with it,” y/n replies, turning her head to see her friends. they’re gone. 

“they are. i asked them to shoo off before i approached you. is that a yes?”

y/n nods, “of course, freddie.”

“i love you.”

she laughs, “you really are april’s fool.”

“i’m your april’s fool.” 

he buries his nose in the crook of her neck to stop her from seeing his blushing red face. 

[george-mackay-macfine]

Let's Play a game - CH.3

Chapter three of let's play a game, as usual pick your own Jude. I know I have!

Tag list: @neocil @cjand10

If you want to join the LPAG tag list, let me know.

If Jude Hastings thinks he can show up at my family brunch and act like he wasn’t committing an act of war, he sure had another thing coming.

I was going to be the best’ girlfriend’ this man had ever seen. I was going to be such a convincing girlfriend that his parents would be begging him to propose to me by the time I break his heart. I was going to be that girl that all his friends, colleagues and all his family compare his next girlfriend to.

I was going to be the girl who destroyed Jude Hastings for other women.

“Hi.” I smiled at the female officer who sat at the front desk. She looked borderline depressed with her piles of paperwork around her. “I’m here to see Jude Hastings.”

“Name.” She drawled out.

“Darcy Edwards.” I plastered the fakest smile on my face as she picked up her desk phone.

“What is your reasoning to see Officer Hastings?”

“I’m his girlfriend,” I held up the picnic basket by my side as the woman eyes widened. “And I brought him dinner.” I put the basket on the bench and riffled through finding the container of cupcakes I’d baked - Oh yeah, I’d also baked dessert - “Cupcake?” I offered the now open container of sugary sweets to the woman who looked at them like they’d offended her entire family. “There is chocolate and vanilla.” She didn’t speak, just kept looking at me.

“Hastings… There’s a woman here to see you.” She looked me up and down. “Claims she’s your girlfriend.”

“Darcy.” I prompted right as she put the phone down.

“He’ll be out in a few minutes if you sit down.” She mumbled before looking back down at her open file.

I guess that’s a no to the cupcake, then.

I pulled the container back, shoving the lid back on and storing it back inside the basket before walking over to the waiting chairs. I put the basket on one and began to fiddle with my dress.

A long summer maxi dress with sandals was the best accompaniment to this whole dinner scheme of mine. Not only was it workplace appropriate, but it gave off this virginesque vibe which would only help me win over his colleagues.

Hastings would have no clue what was hitting him.

“Darcy?” I turned at the familiar voice. Standing holding the door open was Jason Sato. Hastings partner and one of the many people I’d gone to high school with who didn’t seem to want to leave this damn town. “I didn’t actually believe him when he told me you were here to see him.” He began to laugh.

“What do you mean?” I picked the basket up and walked towards him. “Is Jude coming?” I held the basket up slightly. “I made him dinner.”

“Is it poisoned?”

“What?” I faked as gasp - poisoning it would have been too obvious. “Why would it be poisoned.”

“Because the last time you made food for him, you put laxatives in it.” Oh yeah.

“That was high school, Jason.” I gave a giggle. Sweet and innocent. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to poison my boyfriend; he’s too cute for that.”

“It was only two years ago,”

“Was it?” I tapped the side of my head gently. “Bad memory.”

“So you and Jude finally put it all behind you, huh.”

“Sure did.” I smiled as Jude appeared behind him. “Hi Bunny.” I beamed at him. Relishing in the way, his smile dropped at the use of his new nickname.

“Bunny?” Jason tried to hold in a laugh as I nodded idiotically. “Wow.”

“What you got in there?” Hastings pointed to the basket.

“I made your favourite.” I lifted the basket some more. “Egg salad sandwiches and cupcakes.”

“Egg sandwiches are your favourite food?” Jason raised an eyebrow at Hastings. Absolutely not. He hated egg salad sandwiches.

“Picnic food it is.” Hastings amended.

“Did you want to join us for dinner?” I stepped towards Hastings, who wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me back against him. “I made plenty for everyone.” Jason looked between Hastings and me. “You don’t mind, do you, Bunny?” I looked up at Hastings with a wide smile, the smile only becoming broader as I heard Jason let out a snort of laughter.

“Of course not,” Hastings grimaced, leaning down kissing my cheek.

“I am only saying yes because I want to see more of this.” Hastings grabbed my hand and led me through the police officers towards their break room. I made sure to smile and wave at everyone who looked at us, cementing myself as the polite and sweet girlfriend I was.

“How has your day been?” I asked Hastings as I began to grab all the items out of the picnic table, laying them out in front of the two seated men. “Catch any bad guys today?”

“Not yet.” Hastings grabbed a can of root beer I put down in front of him. “How has your day been, babe?”

“Babe?” I pushed my bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “You never call me babe.”

“What does he call you then?” Jason asked mid-bite.

“He usually calls me wifey.”

“You what?” Jason spun to look at Hastings while I struggled to keep the shit-eating grin off my face.

“What can I say? When I see something, I want I go for it.” He picked up one of the sandwiches. When he sat back down correctly, he looked at me again, maintaining eye contact as he began to smile. “But, baby. If you’re happy to let people know I intend to make you my wife, then I’m happy to call you that in public. I just thought you didn’t want people to know.”

A challenge.

“Of course Bunny.” I walked around the table and sat down in his lap. “You know I want nothing more than to win this big heart in here.” I tapped his chest. “If you want everyone to know you intend to marry me, then I’m okay with it if you tell them.” Do it, Darcy. Win this one. “It’d make me happy, actually.” I kissed his lips, fighting off the bile that rose with the action.

“Sato.” A voice bellowed from beyond the break room, giving me a reason to break the bile raising kiss. “Call for you at your desk, line three.” Jason stood up slowly, looking at us as if we were some mutation.

“Right, coming.” He called back to the voice. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” I smiled, watching Jason walk out, the door shutting behind him.

“Is this your feeble attempt at a surprise attack,” Hastings whispered in my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder.

“You mean like yours from this morning?”

“I didn’t think we were playing dirty, Edwards.”

“We weren’t, then you crashed family Sunday brunch.”

“You needed your wallet,”

“Then you shouldn’t have lifted it from my purse.” I turned to look at him. “You started this. I’m finishing it.”

“Oh no, this is just the beginning… Wifey.” A twisted smirk covered his lips. “You know that comment I made about no more pranks.”

“Of course,” I remembered everything he said that morning.

“I take that part back.” He nodded towards my outfit. “After this little prank, I think everything is fair game.”

“Prank?” I shook my head. “This is no prank. I wanted to make my big strong man some dinner.” I poked his cheek as I spoke.

“You know I hate eggs.”

“No, I knew eggs give you insane gas,”

“Tamato, tomato.”

“Whoopsies.”

“I’m not eating them.” He looked at the sandwich.

“What’d I miss.” Jason sauntered back in.

“Nothing.” I turned back to him. “Jude was just going to try the sandwiches and tell me what he thought.” I spun around to face Hastings. “Isn’t that right, Bunny.”

“Darcy…”

“It took me a long time to make it all, the sandwiches and the cupcakes.”

“It’s lovely of you, Darcy.”

“Thank you, Julian. If only my boyfriend felt the same way.”

“Try one, man. They’re good.” Julian slid a sandwich over to him. Julian and I both watched as Hastings disgruntledly unwrapped the foil that wrapped the sandwich. Taking half of it, he brought it to his lips.

“Take a big bite! Make sure you get all the flavours.” I clapped my hands together. Honestly, I have never wanted anything more than for this sandwich to react badly with Hastings’s gut. The idea of people thinking he shit himself is nearly funnier than it would be if he actually shit himself.

“Of course.” He muttered, bringing the sandwich to his mouth. To my surprise, he took a massive bite out of it, more than I’d expected him t take. As he chewed, Jason and I watched on. “Wow,” He reached for the root beer, taking a long gulp. “Nice.”

“Try a cupcake now.” I grabbed one of the cupcakes and scooped the icing off with my finger. I was bringing it to my lips before Hastings redirected my finger to his lips. I felt his tongue work around my fingertip, sucking off all the sugary sweet vanilla icing.

“Okay, you two might just be enough to gross me out.” Jason broke us from our moment.

“That was my icing.” I sighed, pulling my finger back. I subtly wiped it on Hastings shirt, thankful that Jason couldn’t see.

“Delicious.” He laughed. “You should try one.” He looked over at Jason.

“Give me your finger, Darcy.” He winked at me.

“Sorry mate, But you’ll need to find your own girl.” His hands wrapped tighter around my waist.

“I should get going.” I unwrapped Hastings arms from around my waist. “I’ve got class tomorrow.”

“I finish in an hour. Why don’t you go to my place.”

“I don’t have clothes, Bunny.” I loved seeing a part of his soul die when I used that nickname, thank you, google.

“Well, go home, and I’ll swing by and get you on the way home.”

“He wants to romance you, Darcy, by the sounds of it.” Jason cackled, unwrapping a cupcake.

“Is that true?”

“Of course it is.” His hand ran down my back, stopping at the swell of my hip. “Romance is my middle name.”

“Now I’m sure your mother told me your middle name was Fredrick.”

“Oft.” Julian hissed. “That’s a sexy name right there.”

“Isn’t it just,” I giggled, throwing my hair over my shoulder. I knew by the look on Hastings’s face he wished I were dead right now, and I knew he could tell by the look on my face that I was loving this more than anything.

Payback is a bitch.

“I better go.” I picked up my purse and walked to the door. “Can you bring those back to me whenever?”

“I’ll bring them by tonight when I come to get you.” Jude stood and walked behind me. “I’ll be back.” He called over his shoulder. “Let’s go.” He swatted my ass, causing me to flinch forward. “Didn’t mind it the other night.” He winked.

“You bloody bastard.” I muttered under my breath as he scooted past me. “I’ll kill you.” I growled as he grabbed my hand, pulling me through the station. “When you get home, I thought we could take a bath together.” I began to rattle. “And maybe I can give you another facial, and we can watch the notebook.” I thundered as we passed by a group of highly masculine-looking officers. “Like we did last week, you seemed to like it. I’ll even use the pink face cream.”

“Jesus.” Hastings hissed, shaking his head. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“You don’t have to.” I passed him pushing open the same door I’d entered only minutes ago.

“I’m walking you to your car,” He confirmed, holding the door open so I could move through the threshold. “C’mon.” His hand grabbed mine, pulling me along behind him. We passed by the silent woman on the front desk and out into the warming summer air. “You are -“

“Incredible?”

“No.”

“Amazing… Phenomenal… Astounding… bewildering… bewitching…”

“Insane… mad… cretinous.”

“Oh a big boy word.” We’d reached my car by now, but Hastings still wasn’t letting go of my hand. “Can I have my hand back now?”

“I don’t know.” He leant back against the car, pulling me into his chest. “I rather like the way it feels in mine.” His other wrapped around my waist, holding my body tightly to his.

“I think we need to clear some things up.” I tried to pull my hand back from him. “This whole facade thing doesn’t have to happen all the time… only when we’re around people.”

“No, sweetheart.” He nuzzled his nose into the underside of my jaw, breathing deep. “I’m going to make you fall madly in love with me.”

“Whose says I’m gonna let you?”

“Whose says your gonna stop me?” His lips crawled up my jaw before moving across the skin of my cheek towards my lips. He flipped us over, so I was trapped up against the car “Darcy,” When did his voice become so husky, and why is it sending a shiver up my spin. “Whose going to stop me?” Why did the idea of his lips on mine seem so appealing? Why did I feel like I was starving? And without the feeling of his lips against mine, I was going to die. “I don’t think you’re going to stop me, Darcy.”

He was right. I wasn’t going to stop him.

Without a second thought, I pulled his head, so our lips met. His hand let go of mine and ran up, grabbing onto my face, keeping me locked to him. My tongue traced his bottom lip. I wanted more. His lips left mine again, kissing all over the skin on my face.

“Baby.” I grabbed onto his face this time and reattached our lips. My hands wandered the expanse of his body, feeling all the muscles I was reluctant to remind myself about. “Darcy, we need to stop.” I shook my head against his lips, my own going to his neck. His hands left my body completely resting against the car on either side of my head as I kissed his neck. “Believe me, I don’t want to stop this either, but if we don’t - We’re going to end up naked on the street, and I don’t think that’s appropriate for an officer of the law.”

Dammit, he was right.

“Your right.” I pulled away from him, my chest heaving. “I should save shows like that for when people are around.” He let out a chuckle.

“What games do you have planned in that twisted head of yours.” His fingertips tapped my temple gently.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I pushed his body away from mine, moving so I could open my drivers’ door.

“Well, was your show in there, was that how it was supposed to happen?”

“Let’s just say, it’s not exactly how I planned it - I expected more people wanting cupcakes, I mean they’re cupcakes c’mon - but it’s turning out better than I thought.” I stopped as I was about to step into the car. “You’re going to fall in love with me, Jude Hastings, and then I’m going to break your heart into a million little bits.” Disturbingly he smiled. Not the reaction you really wanted from a man when you tell him you’re not only going to break his heart but also shatter it into a million parts.

“I’m sure you will, Darcy.” He stepped back away from the door. “But I suppose the real question is, will I break yours first.”

“Don’t count on it.” I slipped into the car.

“I’ll see you soon.” He called out as I turned on the ignition. I rolled my window down and stuck my head out.

“You won’t see me if I don’t answer the door.”

“You will.” He winked before turning and walking back down the path we’d walked together moments ago.

As I took off, my mind was consumed by one thing.

Jude Hastings.

Thoughts of him clouded my senses as I drove, and the feeling of his hands on my hips as he pulled me closer to him left chills on my legs.

He was good, but I was going to be better.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Are you alone now?

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, pretty creepy Loki.

Words: 1424. Summary: There’s a man who keeps calling you whenever you are all by yourself.

P.S. Inspired by this.

____________________

That evening was the same like all the others: you sat with a new novel you found in that little bookshop on the first floor of the building you lived in; you had a cup of warm camomile tea you were sipping, a cozy blanket covering your legs. You didn’t expect anyone to come, and the only thing you planned for the evening was getting a good rest after a busy day. Of course, the least you thought about was someone playing a prank on you.

“Are you alone now?” The male voice asked you, and you furrowed your brows, immediately looking at the screen of your cellphone. You definitely didn’t know the one who called you. Besides, who would ask a question like right from the start?

“Who is this?” You demanded harshly. You didn’t have time for this bullshit, whatever it was.

Suddenly, you could almost feel someone on the other end of the phone smirking. You only heard his calm breathing before the mysterious stranger hanged up, leaving you slightly irritated and concerned. What the Hell? Who was this? The guy didn’t sound like a silly teenager playing pranks on whoever picked up the phone, but you could never be sure. So, you simply called that number, expecting to scare the shit of that boy and make him never do this to someone else.

However, all you heard was that this number wasn’t even registered. How come?

You quickly opened Google to see if there was a new type of prank but found nothing at all. Before proceeding to call your friend, you jumped to your feet and checked whether your door and all the windows were locked. You didn’t want any trouble. What if it wasn’t a pranker but some lunatic? A criminal? Better to be safe than sorry.

But that evening nothing really happened. No one tried to break into your apartment or do anything else. After a long talk with your friend you finally decided it was just a stupid prank someone pulled on you, and the next morning you went to work with your head clear of any bad thoughts.

In two days, someone called you again. You just got out of the shower when you had to rush to your room to take the cellphone when you heard, “Are you alone now?”

“Who the fuck is this?” You hissed, both upset and a little scared.

When you heard the stranger chuckling, you were ready to yell at him, but he hanged up again. Of course, that number wasn’t registered either.

That evening you freaked out and went to spend the night at your friend’s place instead of staying home. Something wasn’t right. Who was that? Why calling you exactly when you were alone? Of course, it was Wednesday evening, and most people without family were most likely alone in their homes, but you had no desire to risk it. This thing with an unregistered number got you alarmed because even an operator couldn’t explain who a call could be made. It definitely wasn’t normal.

The next time he called when you just left your office and stood in the balcony, having a five-minute break. “Are you alone now?” The stranger asked, and you rushed to the nearest police station, caring little about your job. Enough was enough.

However, while you spent the whole hour trying to explain what was happening to the officer, you realized you had nothing to confirm your suspicions. Yes, there were three calls registered on your cellphone, but it didn’t mean the one who was calling was really threatening you. Hell, it didn’t even mean it was the one person. The officer had never heard of any pranks like that, and you could see he was quite sceptical. If you could record this stranger talking to you, he might be able to do something, yet now you had no proof whatsoever. You left the police station feeling deadly tired and distressed.

Who was he? You had never had a secret admirer or anyone of that kind. Hell, you weren’t in a relationship for more than a year, and your ex was a really nice guy who you still considered your friend. Besides, it was definitely not his voice. Was that person a complete stranger? Some creepy stalker, maybe? If it was so, you hadn’t seen anyone watching you secretly.

Shit, things were bad.

You didn’t realize how bad they were until he called the fourth time, and when you listened to the recording you had made, you heard only your own voice. How was that even possible?! You made sure to record it not only with your phone, but also with a little recorder you got yourself a few days ago. Of course, you checked it, and it was working perfectly.

“Are you alone now?”

This voice was following you everywhere. You couldn’t get it off your mind wherever you went, whatever you did. In the end, instead of the police station, you went to the psychologist to be assured you’re not some crazy lunatic yourself. The psychologist told you that you were in a great distress, prescribing you some medication, but added you had no reason to be worried about schizophrenia or anything like that. It was probably a problem with the recorder, he said. You just needed to be prepared better the next time this man called.

You purchased three more recorders, changed the locks and bought the protection for your windows. Your friends were becoming more and more sceptical just like that police officer, and you struggled to make them stay with you for a night. You were too afraid to stay all by yourself.

And then one day everything changed. You were supposed to have a nice evening with pizza and French fries, your friend Beth staying at your place and choosing some romcom for the two of you. You were in the kitchen when she suddenly stormed out of the room and started shouting at you. “How could you do that?” She asked you furiously as you gawked at her, not understanding anything at all. “I had to send my son to my mom for a night just to come and sit here with you!”

“Wait, what? I don’t understand.” You said with all honesty, freezing on the spot as you stared at your friend, her expression telling you she was going mad from anger.

“I have just heard you faking a man’s voice and recording this stupid message! Jesus Christ, and I was the one telling guys you needed help!” She kept shouting, picking up her coat in the hallway. “Yeah, maybe you need it because you’re fucking crazy, Y/N!”

“Wait! This is some misunderstanding!” But before you had time to ask her what the hell was going on, she had already vanished from your apartment, leaving you all alone.

You left the pizza in its box, grabbing a bottle of red wine Beth brought you and returned to your room, sinking in the chair. You simply couldn’t process her words. You faking a man’s voice? What? Was she joking? This could be the case, but Beth had always been a very devoted friend. She wouldn’t do this to you, knowing how scared you were. Not now, when she was among the last ones willing to help you go through this endless nightmare.

Suddenly, you felt your phone vibrating in the pocket of your pants. Clenching your teeth, you gulped down the wine right from the bottle and reached out to your phone, seeing some number you didn’t recognize. You knew who was calling.

“Are you alone now?” The soft voice asked you, and you growled in frustration, ready to smash the bottle against the wall.

“No, I’m not!” You snarled at the stranger, gripping the phone in your hand painfully. “I’m with my best friend, we’re eating pizza and discussing how we gonna find and fucking kill you!”

You heard him laughing on the other side of the phone – he wasn’t concerned even the slightest bit, knowing you couldn’t track him down. Surprisingly, he didn’t hang up as fast as he always did, but you were so furious you didn’t even think of it, preparing to tell the bastard everything you thought of his fucking prank.

“You are lying.” Someone said behind your back, and you felt a man gently setting his hands on your shoulders. “You are alone now.”

The next second you dropped the bottle of wine onto your white bed sheets, staining them red.

________________________

Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki​  @helenaeisenhower​ @villanellevi​ @hurricanerin​ ​ @void-hoechlin @abyssaint​ @heeeyitskay​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight

[luna-eclipse2000]

Shingeki no Danganronpa

Chapter 1, part 1

So I started this story last year when the Danganronpa craze happened but I still wanna post it because I think it’s a pretty alright take on the game. I put a hashtag of the name of this series so the parts are easy to find. (ie. Shingeki no Danganronpa Chapter 1)

——————————————————————————

Hope’s Peak High. A school so large that it towers over all the other buildings in this bustling urban area. Some people say that the school is like it’s at the centre of the world, which I agree to. Except, it is at the centre of the entire world. Everyone knows about this school and how prestigious it is. Anybody who’s anybody dreams of getting that fateful acceptance letter from administration. They say that if you come here and manage to graduate, you’ll be set for life. I’m not the most interesting person in the world, so it was a complete shock when I got a letter saying that they want me to attend. The only award I’ve ever won was a runner’s up ribbon in a fishing tourney. My letter told me that I’m the ‘Ultimate Lucky Student’, which sounds like complete horse shit in my opinion.

I get good grades, sure, but nothing as skyrocketing as some of the people who get in for a purpose. I still accepted the opportunity because I’m not an idiot. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity and there’s no way that I’ll give it up because I feel like I don’t belong there... which I definitely feel like. I would’ve just assumed that they got the wrong person but they don’t send acceptance letters to the wrong house, it hasn’t happened in the fifty years the school’s been running for, and I’m pretty sure that the name (f/n) (l/n) isn’t common in this area. So here I now stand, in front of the massive school. It’s even more impressive and intimidating in person. Before I arrived, I did a small Google search on who was going to be in my class and it ranges from more mundane things like the Ultimate Cleaner to the Ultimate Strategist. But, despite my uncertainty of my presence, I put on a brave face and walk through the entrance gates... only to start feeling dizzy and nauseous, like I’m in one of those crazy amusement park rides where you spin in a circle very quickly and the floor drops. No sooner do I start feeling this way, do I black out.

~~~~~

“The hell just happened?” I ask myself as I open my eyes and take a look at my surroundings. I seem to be in a classroom because of all the desks and the blackboard up front, but there’s no windows. Just big metal plates with even bigger bolts and screws holding them in place. “Huh. Weird. Maybe that just shows some new part of the school they’re building and they don’t want any one to see it until it’s finished?” I wonder as I stand up from the desk. I look around but don’t see any bags, even mine is gone. When I turned back to my desk, I notice a slightly folded piece of paper on it, so I pick it up out of curiosity.

Hey there, new kid! The next semester is about to start. Starting today, this school will be your entire world.

“Knew it was the centre of the world.” I think to myself and then place the card down. It didn’t look very professional as it was written in black and red pencil crayon, but it’s a high school so I doubt there are any kids. And if there were, I would have to report them to cops for child labour. I look up at the clock and see that’s it’s eight. “How long was I out for? An hour probably, maybe less. Wait, doesn’t this school start at eight? Where’s all the students? And the teachers? Maybe I read the time wrong on the letter.”

I then go out of the classroom and notice the weird magenta and purple look of the halls and cringe at the contrast. “Ok, what the hell is with this hallway? And, again, where are all the people? I know that eight am isn’t very early, at least not so early that it’s a ghost town. Oh, shit, maybe there’s an assembly!”

I begin to race down the hall and pass by a red door that feels too eerily out of place but I shake the feeling off and head towards the main hall. Once I arrive, I see that everyone else is already there. “Hey, look! Someone else is here!” Someone says. “So that makes fifteen of us.” Someone else points out. “So, you’re all new as well?” I ask them. “No, we’re here for shits and giggles.” A boy with black hair and sharp steel grey eyes rudely answers. I laugh awkwardly. “Who shoved a stick up your ass?”

He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Anyways, I’m (f/n) (l/n).” I introduce myself. “Sorry I’m late. When I entered the school I just blacked out or some shit. It was really weird.”

“You too?” A short blonde girl asks. “That’s what happened to the rest of us! At first, I thought it was just nerves. But then everyone started to realize that we all blacked out.”

“Yes. This is rather a strange situation.” A boy with blond hair that’s tied back a bit and glasses says. “I’ve never heard of fifteen people blacking out at different times at the same place on the same day.”

“We were drugged!” Someone speaks up. Everyone goes quiet as we turn our attention to the person who spoke. She’s rather tall and has brown hair, and wears glasses. “Oh, come on! I was just joking to lighten the mood! And ease the tension that’s growing because it’s making me a biiiit uncomfortable.”

“So then how about we just introduce ourselves then?” A black haired boy with freckles suggests. “That way we can ease the tension without freaking everyone out.”

I immediately feel calmer after he speaks. He’s got some kind of... energy or something around him. The first person I go up to is the short blonde girl with blue eyes. “Oh, hello! I’m Krista Lenz.”

Krista Lenz. She’s the Ultimate Volunteer. She volunteers all of her free time to shelters, reading to kids, helping the city, going in to retirement/nursing homes, helping out in hospitals and keeping veterans company. She’s even gone abroad to help build homes. She’s known online as Angel, and I can totally see why. Not just because of her noble acts, but because she looks so pure and innocent. Like a little angel. “Well, it’s actually Historia Reiss but that’s hard for kids and seniors to pronounce and spell so I just came up with the fake name.” Krista explains. “No way, seriously?” I ask her. “Doesn’t it bother you that you’re popular with a name that isn’t technically yours?”

She giggles cutely. “Singers do it all the time, don’t they? Katy Perry’s last name is actually Hudson but she didn’t want to get confused for the actress, Kate Hudson.”

“Oh, right, yeah.” I say awkwardly and then move onto the next person.

I decide to go up to the the boy who suggested introductions. “Hi! I’m Marco Bodt. It’s nice to meet you!”

Ah, yes. Marco Bodt, the Ultimate Peacekeeper. He tries to help different countries bring peace to them so no more wars break out. He’s also proposed that they follow England in having a special force of officers who carry guns while the majority only carry nightsticks. He’s also won a Nobel peace prize. “So, what are you here for?” Marco asks me. “Oh, nothing special. I’m not that important.” I say. “Nonsense! You were accepted, right?” Marco says. “I got chosen by chance to be the lucky student.” I tell him. “See?” Marco says. “Out of everyone in the world that they put into chance, you got chosen! Not Diana across town. And the letter even said you were the Ultimate Lucky Student as a result, that accounts for something, right?”

I smile thankfully and go to say something else but hear shouting instead. “What the fuck did you call me, you suicidal bastard?!”

“I called you a horse face, horse face!” The other person responds just as angrily. “Oh, geez.” Marco says. “Sorry, I’m gonna go break them up so there isn’t a murder or anything.”

Marco then heads off to go calm the two boys down. I roll my eyes. “Teenage boys. Why are they like this?”

I head off to another boy, but he doesn’t have any hair. Or at least very little, short, stubby hairs. “Hi, I’m Connie Springer!”

Connie Springer is the Ultimate Prankster. He’s pulled pranks on a various number of people, none of which were very tame. He’s pranked politicians and celebrities. He’s helped talk show hosts prank their audiences and even pranked a military general. I honestly don’t know how he got away with his life for that one, especially since I heard how strict and unforgiving the general is. “It’s nice to meet you, Connie.” I say. “How’d you even escape General Shadis after putting Veet in his shampoo and then switching his toothpaste for actual sewerage?”

“Not easily, I’ll tell you that.” Connie responds with a laugh.

I then move onto the next person. A girl with black hair and grey eyes standing beside a boy with brown hair and beautiful turquoise eyes that I’m honestly jealous of. “Hi. I’m Eren Jaeger and this is Mikasa Ackerman.”

Eren Jaeger. The Ultimate Freedom Fighter. He leads various protests to allow people more rights and be more free, and he also runs different projects that aid in getting people free from their situation. Mikasa Ackerman is his adopted sister and is basically known as his knight in shining armour because of her saving Eren from all the aggressive people he’s encountered. She’s the Ultimate Protector. She protects students at school from bullies, and protects her brother, Eren, from everything. She’s been known to intimated police and SWAT teams, who are already trying to get her to join their force. Marco’s even been seen with them from time to time when he knows it could get very ugly. “What you’ve been doing is quite admirable, Eren.” I compliment him. “It’s great of you to stand up for complete strangers.”

He bashfully puts a hand on the back of his neck with a light blush and smile. “Thanks. Everyone deserves to have freedom so I just stand up for those who’s voices are drowned out by every day noise.”

I turn to Mikasa. “And you’re pretty brave to tell SWAT officers off.”

She just shrugs. “I don’t see it as brave.”

I nod and then go to the next person. Well, group. A tall boy with dark brown hair who seems to be sweating a lot, a blond boy who’s pretty buff, and a short blond girl who gives off as much warmth as an iceberg in a blizzard. “Hi. I’m (f/n) (l/n).” I introduce myself to them. They all look at me and I see the blond smirk. “Nah, cute is what you are.” He says to me. I can feel my cheeks start to burn at his pick-up line. “Oh, well, uh, thank you.”

“I’m Reiner Braun. This guy here’s Bertolt Hoover, and this is Annie Leonhart.”

Reiner Braun’s the Ultimate Blacksmith. He looks much more like a sports guy but when you see what he makes, you know that his talents lie with making armour and weapons. He makes them professionally for people who want a real replica of what medieval knights had, cosplayers, and medieval dinner shows. He’s won more than fifty competitions for blacksmithing. Bertolt Hoover is the Ultimate Deceit. He’s gotten away with a bunch of different crimes because of his shy and timid nature that makes him fade more into the background. Annie Leonhart is the Ultimate Fighter. Her father put her into boxing when she was a kid and beat the instructor on her first day so she started to train professionally. “So, what do you think about us being a thing when school really gets started, huh?” Reiner flirts. “Reiner, shut up.” Annie orders her friend. “Thanks for the offer.” I say. “It’s really tempting, but I have to decline.”

I quickly leave the trio to go introduce myself to a girl with auburn hair tied up into a ponytail. “Hi! I’m Sasha Braus!”

Sasha Braus runs a successful food critic website and tries food from all over the world including octopus, fried spiders and escamol. She’s friends with a bunch of different famous chefs like Gordon Ramsey and Rachel Ray. She’s also judged on a number of cooking shows and won every eating contest she’s competed in which is why she’s the Ultimate Foodie. “So, uh, when do you think we’ll get to eat?” Sasha asks me. I think for a second. “Not sure. We’ll probably have the orientation meeting and then be given a tour of the school, which will take a while, so probably not until at least eleven.”

She pouts. That’s when I notice a smell. “What the hell is that?”

“Oh, it’s a potato.” Sasha says and pulls out a whole baked potato from her jacket pocket. “Where the hell did you find a potato?!” I ask her. “Well when I woke up, I was really hungry. But my bag wasn’t with me that carried all my snacks. So before I came to the main hall, I decided to go find the dining hall. The potato was just kind of... there. Like it was waiting for me to eat it.” Sasha says and then breaks off a piece. “You want half?”

I look at the piece and see that it’s more like a quarter but I’m not hungry anyway so I politely decline. “More for me then!”

I laugh at her and then turn and see the black haired male with the stick up his ass. “Let’s get this over with.” I think to myself as I make my way over. “Hi.” I greet him. His cold eyes land on me and I instantly feel like I committed a felony or something. “Levi Ackerman.”

Levi Ackerman, distant cousin of Mikasa Ackerman, according to tabloids, who’s the Ultimate Cleaner. Apparently he grew up in the shittiest part of the city where the rats are almost the size of feet, which is where his obsession for cleanliness came from. He cleans up any vandalism from the streets and enforces no littering. He’s run mass city, beach and ocean clean ups. I decide that it’s best to leave him alone so I turn to the brown haired girl beside him who’s wearing glasses. “Hiii! I’m Hanji Zoë! The Ultimate Scientist! Also I’m non-binary, just so you know.”

Hanji Zoë definitely lives up to the title. They found a new element when they were ten and they had to do their science work from home so a university chemist and biologist could come tutor them. They even created a new cell that can protect the body from diseases like TB, certain cancers, and certain joint problems. She also won a Nobel prize. “It’s nice to meet you.” I say. “Great job on getting that Nobel prize for your cell creation!”

“Thank you, but it was nothing.” Hanji brushes my compliment off. “I don’t need an award to tell me that I helped millions of people for me to know it. Sorry, did that sound cocky?”

“No, no! It’s ok! I understand what you mean.” I tell them and then go off to the blond boy with glasses. “Hi. I’m Armin Arlert.”

Armin Arlert. The Ultimate Strategist who came up with his first strategy to get out of the orphanage he was placed in and go completely unnoticed when he was eight. After that, he started working with the military and with him on their side, there are much fewer casualties for them... but not for the other side. “So, your strategies are pretty damn good.” I say. “How on earth do you come up with them?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It just kind of happens.” Armin says awkwardly. “You get nervous about speaking about your brain, don’t you?” I ask him. He chuckles with a small blush. “Was I that obvious?”

“It’s ok. I get it. You help the military to make sure that they don’t lose as many soldiers as the other side.” I say. He nods shyly, so I move onto the next person. She has brown hair tied back into a flat ponytail. “Hi. I’m (f/n).” I introduce myself. “Ymir.” She introduces herself.

With the lack of a last name, and not hearing about her at all online, I just nod my head awkwardly and go introduce myself to the final person. He’s talking to Marco and has interesting hair. It’s ash blond with a brown undercut. “Hi, I’m (f/n) (l/n).” I introduce myself. The boy turns around and I get bit startled by his amber eyes. Eren has pretty eyes, but this guy is a full on pretty boy. He gives me a grin and I can tell he knows it, too. “Hey, Jean Kirschtein.”

Jean Kirschtein is the Ultimate Equestrian. He’s been riding horses ever since he could walk because he grew up on a farm. He entered his first equestrian competition when he was seven and has won first every year. He helps take care of horses from his own to others and even helps beginners with picking out which horse they should ride first. He even runs riding lessons at the farms for said beginners. “So, I heard that you’re the Ultimate Lucky Student, eh?” Jean asks. “Could I have some of that luck to take you horse riding?”

“Keep it PG at school, horse face!” We hear Eren mock. “I don’t have a horse face!” Jean shouts at him. “And I wasn’t implying anything!”

He’s obviously a bit embarrassed and flustered. “Alright, alright. Calm down. He’s just doing it to rile you up.” Marco says to Jean. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think you look like a horse.” I tell him.

Just as I finish saying that, a bell goes off. “Ahem! Ahem! Testing, testing! Mic check, one, two! This is a test of the school’s broadcast system! Am I on? Can everyone hear me? Ok, well then...!” A voice speaks through the PA system. “Ahh, to all incoming students! I would like to begin the entrance ceremony at... right now! Please make your way to the gymnasium at your earliest convenience... That’s all. I’ll be waiting!”

“Is that voice not sitting well with anyone else or is my stomach feeling squirmy because of the potato I stole?” Sasha asks us. “No. It definitely feels odd.” Marco agrees with her. “We don’t have time for this, brats. Let’s just get on with this so I can clean. This place is absolutely filthy.” Levi says monotonously with a hint of disgust as he walks away from the group and towards the gym. I look at Jean and Marco and the three of us follow him, followed by everyone else. We all make it to the gym in a few short minutes. I see Hanji go towards the trophy case and look straight at this gold and purple katana. “Oo, pretty!” They exclaim and then touch the handle but immediately retract their hand. “Damn, that thing is absolutely coated in gold dust! My hand looks like El Dorado!”

“Um... anyone else find it weird that the hall’s are completely empty?” Krista asks as we enter the gym itself. “I haven’t even heard any other classes going in the classrooms.”

“Yeah, man. I’m getting weirded out, now.” Connie agrees with her. “And did anyone else notice that there were machine guns in front of the entrance which looked like a vault door?” Eren asks. “It’s probably nothing, Eren.” Mikasa says. “Why would they have machine guns in a school?”

He nods but I see him shift uncomfortably. “Hey there, howdy, hello!” The voice from earlier greets. “Is everyone here? Good! Then let’s get things rolling!”

We all look towards the stage which has a podium in the centre and the school crest above it, which are two wings; one white and one blue. As we await our headmaster to walk on stage, a black and white teddy bear pops up and lands on the podium. I hear Connie snort back a laugh. “A teddy bear?” Krista asks in confusion. “I’m not a teddy bear!” The bear says lowly. “I... am... Monokuma! And I am this school’s headmaster!”

I try to wrap my head around what’s happening. A teddy bear- er, uh, Monokuma is our headmaster who’s mouth doesn’t even move when he’s talking. I look around at all my classmates, particularly Connie, to see if this is a joke of his, but everyone looks just as confused as I am. Except Annie but she’s devoid of all of emotion. Hell, even Levi has an eyebrow quirked at the oddness. “Nice to meet you all!”

“Ok, Connie.” Reiner says. “This was hilarious, best prank you’ve ever pulled! But can you turn off the teddy bear now?”

“I’m not doing this, I swear! You guys can search me for a remote or whatever.” Connie responds. “I don’t think he has the intelligence needed to build that. No offence, Connie.” Armin says. I see Connie look slightly offended at the words. “I told you already, I’m not a teddy bear... I’m Monokuma! And I’m your headmaster!” Monokuma shouts angrily as he moves his arms up to display further emotion. “AH! It moved!” Sasha screeches. “No shit, Sherlock.” Levi mumbles. “Oh, calm down, everyone! It’s obviously just a remote controlled toy!” Hanji says. “How dare you compare me to a child’s plaything!” Monokuma says. “You’ve cut me deep. Deeper than the Mariana Trench... My remote control system is so complex, even the folks in the Military Police can’t recreate or even comprehend it! Then again, that place is full of nitwits! Now then, moving on! We really must hurry and get started... Everyone, stand at attention and bow! And... good morning!”

Marco does as he’s told. “Good morning, sir!”

“Marco, stand up.” Jean whispers and pulls the boy up from his bow. “Don’t fall for this shit.”

“Now then, let us commence with a most noteworthy and memorable entrance ceremony!” Monokuma says. “First, let’s talk a bit about what your school life here will be like. Now, ah, make no mistake- you few students, so full of potential, represent the hope of the world. And to protect such splendid hope... you will all live a communal life together solely within the confines of this school. Everyone will live in harmony together, and adhere to the school’s rules and regulations. Ah, now then... regarding the end date of this communal life... there isn’t one! In other words, you’ll all be here until the day you die! Such is the school life you’ve been assigned.”

“Until we die? What kind of fucked up bullshit is this?” Levi asks. “Oh, but fear not!” Monokuma assures us. “We have quite an abundant budget, so you won’t lack for all the common conveniences.”

“That’s still not very comforting.” I tell him. “You gotta be screwing with us!” Connie says. “I am not screwing with you!” Monokuma shouts angrily. “I am no liar, of that you can be 100% sure. Ah, and just for your information... you’re completely cut off from the outside world. So you don’t have to worry about that dirty, dirty land beyond these walls ever again!”

I feel my pockets for my phone. “They took our phones!” I announce. Everyone then starts to check themselves for theirs, too. “So, then... all those metal plates all over the school... they’re there to keep us trapped in here?” Reiner asks him. “That’s exactly what they’re there for.” Monokuma confirms. “No matter how much you may yell and scream for help... help will not come. So with all that in mind, feel free to live out your life here with reckless abandon!”

“Come on, what the hell is this? It’s not funny!” Eren asks. “You all keep saying this is a lie, or a joke.” Monokuma says. “A bunch of skeptics, all of you. But I guess you can’t help it, huh? You all grew up in an age where you’re taught to doubt your neighbour... Well, you’ll have plenty of time to find out whether or not what I say is true. And when that time comes, you’ll see with your own eyes that I speak the undeniable truth.” Monokuma answers Eren.

“I don’t want to live here forever! This is bullshit!” Jean shouts nervously. No one else looks pleased with the news. “Come, now. What’s the matter with all of you? You decided of your own free will to attend Hope’s Peak Academy, didn’t you? And now, before the entrance ceremony is even finished, you’ve already decided that you want to leave? Oh, but you know... I guess I did forget to mention one thing. There is one way for you to leave the school...” Monokuma leaves us in hopeful suspense.

“Spit it out, already.” Annie orders. “Ok, ok! Calm down!” Monokuma says. “As headmaster, I’ve crafted a special clause for those of you who would like to leave! I call it... the Graduation Clause! Now, let me tell you about this fun little rule. As I mentioned, in order to maintain an environment of harmony here, we rely on a communal lifestyle. And if someone were to disrupt that harmony, they, and they alone, would be allowed to leave the school. That, my students, is the Graduation Clause!”

“So by disrupting the peace, all we need to do is fling shit, literally, at people and we can just... go?” Levi asks with a hint of skepticism in his voice. Monokuma laughs. “No. Not exactly. But... if someone were murder another. (“Murder?!” We all repeat in shock) Stabbing, strangling, bludgeoning, crushing, hacking, drowning, igniting, how you do it doesn’t matter. You must kill someone if you want to leave. It’s as simple as that. The rest is up to you. Give it your all to achieve the best outcome in the worst way possible!”

The air goes suffocatingly thick as we all process the situation at hand. We’re trapped in here for life unless we commit murder. There’s no way to contact the outside world, all the windows are boarded up with giant plates of metal, and our headmaster is a complete psycho. No one wants to believe this. It’s something straight out of a horror movie or a TV show created by someone seriously fucked up. Monokuma’s laugh brings us all out of our stupor. “I bet that got your brain juices flowing! Beats the heck out of a human catching a salmon, huh? Like I said before, you guys are the hope of the world. But you know... taking that hope and seeing it get murdered creates a darkened shadow of despair. And I just find that so. Darn. Exciting!”

“You’re insane!” Krista exclaims as she starts to cry a bit. “You guys just don’t get it, do you?” Monokuma asks. “‘Let us go, let us go!’ You keep on saying the same thing over and over and over and over...! Listen. From this moment on, this school is your home, your life, your world. Got it? And you can kill as much as you wanna kill! So go ahead! Go on a kill-kill-killing spree!”

No one makes a move, or a sound, for a good few seconds until Mikasa walks up to the podium. She just stands there. “Eh? Well what do you want?” Monokuma asks her. When he finishes speaking, she grabs him by his little bear neck and lifts him off the ground. Monokuma waves his arms up and down. “I don’t know if you’re a toy, and, frankly, I don’t care, but you just threatened myself, Eren and everyone else here with murder. If it’s murder you want, it’s murder you’ll get.” Mikasa says and pulls out a pocketknife from her pants pocket. “Waah! Violence against the headmaster is in violation of school regulations!” Monokuma shouts. “You never said that before.” Mikasa says stoically. “And all we need to do is disturb the peace to leave, right? So all I need to do is pull out your stuffing and I’ll get to leave. And since you won’t be around, I’ll take everyone here with me.”

He doesn’t respond except for some kind of beeping. “Is he shutting down?” I question. The beeping then gets louder and more frequent. I then hear a gasp come from behind me. “Throw it!” Hanji instructs. “What?” Mikasa responds. “Throw the damn bear! He’s gonna explode!” Hanji explains. Mikasa immediately throws the bear away and then throws herself onto Eren so he doesn’t get hurt as Monokuma explodes.

I jump from the sudden sound and hear Krista squeak in surprise. “Well, shit. That really throws the reality of this situation in our faces.” Levi says with his usual emotionless voice, but there’s a hint of nervousness behind it. “Wait, guys, Mikasa still killed it!” I point out. “Yeah! The bastard bear’s destroyed!” Eren cheers. “Uh... I-I wouldn’t be so sure...” Armin speaks up as Monokuma reappears on the podium. “Nice try! But it’ll take a lot more than a silly explosion to kill me!”

“Oh, come on! What the hell is this?!” Reiner shouts. “So I was almost killed for nothing?” Mikasa asks. “Of course! You violated one of the school regulations, after all. I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but you’d better be careful from now on. Any naughty boy or girl who violates my rules won’t get off with just a little swat on the butt.” Monokuma threatens. I swear I see a vein on his forehead pop out from the anger. “Wait... if you exploded... and you’re back... does that mean that there are more of you?” Hanji asks him. “Mhm! Yup! There’s also surveillance cameras installed everywhere so I’ll be able to see if you break the rules. Then it’s bye-bye birdie! Now that that’s out of the way, to commemorate your joyous entry into our school, I have a little something for you...” Monokuma says and then flat tablets appear before each of us from the ground. “This is your official student handbook! Pretty cool, huh? As you can see, it’s fully digital. So naturally, we called it... the E-Handbook!”

“Wow... I wonder how many brain cells it took to come up with that?” Hanji says sarcastically. “Ignoring that rude comment, this handbook is absolutely vital to a healthy school life, so don’t lose it! When you start it up, it will display your name. Always make sure you have the right one! Now, this is not your everyday notebook. It has so many more uses than that! Also, it’s completely waterproof. Splash it, wash it, drown it, it’ll keep ticking! And thanks to its space-age design, it can withstand an impact force of up to ten tons. It’s very resistant! It contains all of our school regulations, so make sure you review them thoroughly! You’ll hear me say this a lot, but any violation of school regulations will not be tolerated.”

“This is gonna get pretty fucking annoying.” Ymir groans. “Well, then, don’t violate the rules and you won’t hear it often, sweets. (“Sweets?! Why you-!” Ymir growls but refuses to move so nothing else happens.) Rules restrict, yes, but they also protect. Society, for example, would be utter chaos without laws. (“It’s got a point...” Annie agrees with Monokuma). The same thing applies here! Which is why it’s crucial that we have strict punishments in place for violators. Ok, well... that brings our entrance ceremony to a close! Please enjoy your abundantly dreary school life! See ya!” Monokuma says before disappearing.

With him now gone, we all have time to properly process what we were all just told. I can feel the fear lingering in the air. This school is wrongfully named after Hope. Like he said, the opposite of hope is despair... which is the state that all of us are currently in.

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 6 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: I’ve been getting such lovely messages from you guys and you all seriously brighten my day.  Most of the time I read them in the middle of my job and I have to hide my giant smiles and giddiness.  You guys are the best.  And seriously, keep them coming!  My messages are always open and I respond to every message or ask.  If you sent something in and I never responded, it’s because Tumblr ate it.  Send it in again.  I don’t bite.

Anyways, I again could stop writing.  This is 6000 words and you know what?  I’m not even sorry.  You’re welcome.

September was always a month of change for Bee.  It always meant new classes, new classmates, new professors, and new tutorial groups to teach.  New essays to mark.  New excuses from students who handed in assignments late.  

New…friends who were professional athletes.

September also meant Angie was back in Toronto with Mason, instead of being banished in Kingston due to Mason’s summer school course at Queen’s University.  As a PhD student, Mason followed his thesis advisor wherever he lectured, and it just so happened that for the whole summer, he would be in Kingston.  It was the only time Mason didn’t mind travelling with him, mostly because Mason was from Kingston so he didn’t have to incur any living expenses.  For complete city girl Angie, it was a bit of an adjustment.  Bee always kept reminding her it was only two months, but Angie was stir-crazy by the time they packed up to move back to Toronto.

Angie and Mason lived only a ten minute walk away from Bee in an apartment complex closer to Spadina Avenue, but still within the boundaries of The Annex.  Mason earned a decent amount of money from all his grants and work as a PhD student, and Angie had been working at the Indigo head office pushing paper for about a year now.  They were close enough to each other to be able to pop in for spontaneous dinners and movie nights, but far enough away to have privacy or do a very quick clean up (or, as Bee liked to joke, a “put your pants on” warning) before said dinners or movie nights.

Bee and Angie met the first day of their undergrad.  Bee was taking HIS103, European History, as a breadth requirement satisfaction.  Angie was taking it because she wanted to major in history, but it was Bee who helped Angie pass the course.  It was also Bee who helped Angie pass her science breadth requirement course in first year.  Angie repaid her by baking her cake that looked like an exact replica of the one from the film Matilda, which both girls had loved growing up.  Mason came a year later.  The rest was history.  

It was nice, then, that Angie had invited Bee over the first night she and Mason were back in town.  Mason was planning to make a stir fry with the vegetables they grew that summer in his parents’ garden, and Bee could never pass up a stir fry.  

After Mason opened the door and gave her a hug, Angie came running over to her, almost knocking her over with sheer force.  “I MISSED YOU!” she yelled as she squeezed the breath out of Bee.  “I’m never leaving Toronto again, I’m telling you!”

“What are you talking about?  Kingston is beautiful!” Bee laughed.

“Yes, Kingston is beautiful, but you’re not in Kingston!” she said, letting go of the hug.  “You have to tell me everything you did this summer in Toronto or else I’m going to lose it.”

Bee couldn’t help but cackle at Angie’s request.  “Angie, what do you think I did?  I graded shitty papers and I read in my apartment all summer.  Sometimes I’d read in a park.  There wasn’t much else.”

“Told you,” Mason piped up from the kitchen.  Bee could see him plating the stir fry, which got her excited.  

“You’re lying,” Angie said indignantly.  “You met Morgan.  You need to tell me all about Morgan.”

“Morgan?!  Who’s Morgan?” Mason piped up again, picking up the three plates.  He emerged from the kitchen balancing them all like a waiter.  “Bee, you met a guy?”

Bee nodded her head.  “Uh, I did.  His name is Morgan Rielly.”

“Morgan Rielly?  Hah!  Dude has the same name as the Leafs’ defenseman,” Mason chuckled.  

“Uh…” Bee didn’t know how else to bring it up.  She had been sitting on this information for almost two weeks.  She wasn’t going to let Angie and Mason know through text.  “It actually is that Morgan Rielly.”

At this point, Mason had been setting the plates on the dining table.  As soon as the words left Bee’s mouth, he stopped all movements.  “W…What?”

“Yeah.”

“Morgan Rielly.”

“Yeah.”

“You…you’re dating Morgan Rielly?”

“Yes,” Bee nodded her head.  

Angie was too shocked to speak.  She kept looking between her best friend and boyfriend, unable to formulate any coherent words.  Bee looked at her for backup, but she couldn’t provide any.

Mason’s jaw was on the floor at this point.  He set down the last plate so he didn’t drop it on the floor.  “Bee…you…you’re dating a Toronto Maple Leaf?  Do you…do you know what that means?”

Bee giggled nervously at Mason’s question.  What did he mean by asking ‘do you know what that means’?  It meant she was just seeing someone.  She and Morgan hadn’t put a label on whatever was going on – all she knew was that she was having fun with him.  It was obviously clear that they were very in to each other, but there hadn’t been any formal talk about what they were doing and what they were calling it.  They were both young and busy, one professionally and one academically, so she understood why there was no rush to declare anything.  She had faith that it wouldn’t matter in the long run.  What they were doing was their business and their business only.  “It’s not that big of a deal, Mason.”

“Yes it is, Bee,” he said.  “The Toronto Maple Leafs hockey club is the stuff of legends.  I…don’t…I can’t even…” now he was becoming speechless.  “How the hell did you even meet Morgan Rielly?”

By the way Mason kept saying Morgan’s name in the tone that he did, Bee began to understand now what Morgan was saying to her in the car a few weeks ago – how she was one of the only people who looked at him as just a guy and not as Morgan Rielly.  She knew Mason had an interest in hockey, like many Canadian men, but she didn’t think he was this invested.  “I was eating out one night, and he sent a drink to my table.  Well, he says he didn’t send a drink and someone else pranked me in the restaurant, but when I approached him about it I noticed that we were reading the same book.  Friedman.”

Mason made a bunch of hand motions, clearly not believing what he was hearing.  “Morgan Rielly sent a drink to your table?!”

“I guess so,” Bee shrugged.  It was in the past now.  “Every time I bring it up he denies it.  Like the night we went out with his friends, Auston and Frederik --”

“WAIT,” it was Mason’s time to scream now.  “Bee, are you fucking telling me you went out with Auston Matthews and Frederik fucking Andersen?!” he exclaimed.

“…Yes?”

“BRIONY!” he screeched.  “Do you realize what this means?!  Do you have any idea who you went out with?!”

Bee smiled awkwardly.  “Hockey players?”

“Oh my God!” he screamed, jumping up from his seat and running to get his laptop.  “Bee, I cannot believe – I cannot believe!”

She looked over to Angie from some guidance or support, but found that Angie’s mouth was still wide open in shock.  “Your boyfriend is nuts,” Bee said.

Angie shook her head. “He’s got a point, Bee,” she said softly.  “You…you never told me he was a Toronto Maple Leaf.”

“I only found out like a week and a half ago.”

“Do you know how many girls would kill to be with him?  To get in his pants?” Angie asked.  “All these girls we see prancing along King Street West in their high heels and Aritzia clothes?  All those Instagram model girls?  They’re looking for guys like him.”

Bee could hear Mason stomping back into the main living area, practically dropping his laptop in front of Bee’s face.  He had a tab open on the Google News search bar for Auston Matthews.  “Do you see this?” he said, pointing to one of the headlines in a group of others.  ‘Matthews expected to sign multi-million dollar contract before season’s end.’  ‘Is Auston Matthews worth a $13 million contract?’  ‘Is Leafs management prepared to offer Matthews  8 x 13 million?’  Her eyes watered at the amounts she was reading.  “Do you see these headlines?” Mason’s voice snapped her back to reality.  “This is who you went out with.  You went out with the franchise player, Bee.”

“Okay…” she didn’t know what else to say.  She was still fixated on the amount Auston was earning – or was going to earn.

“And you’re dating the star defenseman,” Mason elaborated.  “I don’t know what you’re not understanding about this.  These guys are the crème de la crème of hockey.  They’re superstars.  They’re --”

“They’re just guys,” Bee cut him off, trying to make sense of it all.  

“They’re not just guys, Bee.  They’re professional athletes.  Do you know what life is like for a professional athlete?  Do you know what life is like for a girlfriend of a professional athlete?  Is your Instagram private yet?  Because you better make it private during this conversation.”

“Mason --”

“I’m not joking, Briony.  In a city like Toronto, I guarantee you that someone has already seen you guys together and recognized him and has posted something on a message board somewhere, or on a blog, or something,” he warned.  “I’m not over-reacting, Bee.  This is serious.”

“I think you’re overreacting just a little bit,” she said, half-trying to convince herself, too.  “You’ve never even met the guy, Mason.  He’s just a guy like you.  He was reading Friedman.  Fundamentally, he can’t be much different than any of the three of us sitting at this table.”

Mason tried to calm down.  He took a deep breath in to calm himself.  “Look, Bee.  You know I love you.  And you know I only want what’s best for you.  I’m not telling you not to date the guy.  If he makes you happy, that’s amazing.  All I’m saying is you need to realize what you’re getting yourself into.  He may be just a regular guy but this isn’t going to be a regular relationship.”

More often than not now, Bee was finding herself inside of King West bars.  This time, at The Citizen, she sat patiently at the bar, waiting for Morgan to find parking and for his friends to come in.  Fred was going to be there, thankfully, along with a new friend, Nazem, and his newlywed wife, Ashley, who had just returned from their honeymoon in Italy two weeks ago.  She kept looking between the door and her book – her tattered copy of Ali Smith’s Autumn which she was re-reading simply because she loved the book so much.  It had been a while since she jumped out of Morgan’s car to get a table and she was wondering how far the parking lot was.

“Now there’s something you don’t see everyday,” a voice from beside her remarked.

Bee turned her head to see a guy staring at her, a smirk on his face.  Was he talking to her?  “What?”

“A girl with a book at a bar,” he nodded towards Autumn, like it was the most novel thing to be seen at a bar ever.  There was a mechanical bull in Rock n’ Horse a ten minute walk away.  

“Oh,” she said.  “Uh, yeah?”

“Why are you here if you’re just going to read a book?” he asked.

“I’m actually meeting some friends,” she said.  Not that it was any of his business.  “Just waiting for one of them to park, actually.”

“So you’re here all alone then.”

“For now,” she narrowed her eyes.  “But like I said, my friends are coming.”

“My friends are here too,” he motioned behind him.  “It’s my buddy’s birthday.  I just got promoted too, so it’s just a big celebration tonight.”

Bee tried not to roll her eyes.  Being in a business/economics program, guys who approached her like this, saying they had just gotten a job or had just gotten promoted to try to impress her, were like a dime a dozen.  She knew how to read them like the back of her hand.  “Congratulations to you.  Where do you work?”

“Accounts in RBC,” he revealed.  She was smart enough to know that wasn’t an impressive job.  “What about you, sweetheart?”

“I’m getting my Master’s in Financial Economics.”

“Ooooh, a studying girl,” he wiggled his eyebrows.  “I like that.  I can work with that.”

“I don’t think you want to.  I might be your boss one day.”

He laughed in her face at that comment.  Like, legitimately laughed in her face.  He thought she was joking, but she was being completely serious.  Once she got her degree, her entry level jobs were higher than his “accounts at RBC” position he bragged about getting a promotion in.  She couldn’t believe he was laughing in her face.  “A feisty girl, too.  I like that.”

“Hey,” Bee heard an all-too-familiar voice say suddenly, just as she was going to respond to the guy.  Looking to her left, she saw none other than Fred looming over her, his gentle smile adorning his face.

“Hey!” she exclaimed almost a little too excitedly, jumping up from her seat and moving towards him to give him a friendly hug.  Hopefully it sent the guy a message.  “So nice to see you!”

“Hey bud,” the guy butt in, apparently not taking the hint.  “I was just speaking to uh…” he pointed at Bee, realizing that he still hadn’t asked for her name.

“Briony is my friend,” Fred said as he gave the guy a death stare.  He looked back at Bee.  “Do you know this guy?”

“I’m Briony’s new friend Daniel,” he introduced himself to Fred with a forceful handshake.  “Are you guys out celebrating tonight too?”

Bee could see that Fred saw something from beyond her before he looked to the guy again.  “Briony and I are going to go now.  Our friends are here,” he said politely.

“I was actually just about to buy Briony a drink,” Daniel said.  “Maybe she can meet up with you guys later.”

Bee could tell Fred was trying his hardest not to laugh.  He realized it was going to be harder than usual to get this guy to see the point.  “I’m sorry – I don’t think you understand --”

“Hey,” another all-too-familiar voice said, interrupting Fred and Daniel’s small battle.  Morgan appeared, with who Bee could only assume to be Nazem and Ashley.  “Table’s ready for us,” Morgan said, ignoring Daniel.  

“You must be Briony’s other friends,” Daniel, ever persistent, inserted himself into the conversation once again.  “I was just about to buy Briony a drink.  Maybe she can meet up with you guys later,” he tried again.

It took a moment for Morgan to realize this guy was serious.  He started laughing at the ridiculousness of the comment, right in Daniel’s face, just as Daniel had done to Bee moments earlier.  “We’re going to go now.  We’ll catch ya later,” Morgan winked at him sarcastically before he put a hand on the back of Bee’s shoulder to guide her through the restaurant.  Bee gave Daniel one last shrug of her shoulders before following the group.  

“Do you know that guy?” Morgan asked once they were out of earshot.

“No.  I don’t know him.  He was just uh, talking to me.”

“Like, flirting?”

“I think so?  He was pretty bad at it if it was,” she said, noticing Morgan was looking back at the guy, who had already moved on to talk to one of his buddies – probably the birthday boy.  “It was honestly nothing.  He was trying to be so smooth but failed miserably.”

“He keeps looking over here,” Morgan said.  “I just hope he drops it.”

“He will.  Don’t worry.”

Bee settled into easy conversation with Ashley, who was very personable and talkative, especially about her wedding and honeymoon.  Bee had always wanted to go to Italy, so she soaked up everything Ashley was telling her about the different areas and cities.  All of the pictures Ashley was showing her on her phone were to die for.  One day, she’d make it a reality.

Nazem was a sweetheart as well.  He told embarrassing stories about Morgan, especially when he first arrived on the team, but they were all in good fun and Morgan didn’t seem to mind.  Nazem had been one of the longest serving members of the Toronto Maple Leafs, so he had a lot of stories.  Bee was in stitches as she heard about all the pranks they played on each other on the road.  But the more Nazem, Morgan, and Frederik detailed what their life was like, especially their life ‘on the road’ during away games, the more Bee began to see that…well, maybe Mason was right about some things.  

She was still adamant that the men in front of her were just that – men – and fundamentally, nothing really separated them from being normal, everyday people.  It was just that they were ordinary people with extraordinary jobs.  But when they began outlining the traveling schedule, the workouts, the practices, the team bus trips, the midnight trips to airports, the copious amounts of coffee consumed throughout the day, the signing of autographs and pictures at airports, lounges, sponsored events, outside of arenas, in bathrooms…

…It was a lot.

Maybe Mason was right about a lot.

Ashley told her how she maintained a fairly private life, away from the fanfare and persistent hockey media in Toronto.  First was, of course a private Instagram profile – the only public one was for their cat, Jazzy, and she asked everyone to tag her using that profile so no-one would see her personal one.  Baseball caps were good friends for anonymity – and that’s when Bee realized that was why she almost always saw Morgan out in the summer with a hat.  Booths instead of tables as restaurants, so people would have to literally peer over to see them, and always, always in the back corner of a restaurant.  Call ahead of time to make a reservation.  “I always say that the only people who should recognize you is the saleswomen at the Holt Renfrew on Bloor Street,” Ashley joked, but Bee knew there was a twinge of seriousness in the statement.  “They can tell people the designer stuff you bought, but not much else.”

Bee began to feel overwhelmed.  She began to think about her place in all this – where exactly she fit in.  She wasn’t sure she had a place.  She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to find a place, truthfully.  She didn’t realize the magnitude – if you could even call it that – of the life Morgan, Nazem, and Frederik lived; of the live Ashley had to live because her husband was a professional athlete on a team that was revered by practically the entire city – some could argue the entire country.  It’s not like Leafs fans were just in Toronto.

She was just Bee.  Briony McTavish of Toronto, Canada.  A Master’s student.  A poor, starving Master’s student.  A teaching assistant at the University of Toronto.  Where did she fit in?

When the group called it a night and Morgan went to fetch his car, Fred stayed back with Bee inside of The Citizen.  He could tell she was tired – probably warn out from a week full of classes and leading her tutorial groups.  “You know that book you were reading when I found you?” he said, catching her attention.

“Autumn?” she clarified.

Fred nodded his head.  “Morgan has that book.”

Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.  “What?”

“He said you raved about it one night.  He dragged me to Indigo in the Eaton’s Centre to buy the series and he spent like, five minutes trying to explain what he was looking for to the poor sales girl because he forgot the title.”

The hairs on the back of Bee’s neck stood on end.  She was at a loss for words.  Why was Fred telling her this?

“He read them on the bus down to Niagara…and the whole time we were in Niagara,” Fred continued, referring to the bit if pre-season training camp they went to the Niagara region for earlier in the week.  “He would like, be alone in his room reading them.  You know how he likes to be alone.  And he wanted to talk to you about them, because I think he was having some trouble understanding some of the things, but I guess he didn’t.”

Bee could swear her heart skipped a beat.  She felt like she was going to throw up all over this big beautiful Danish man in front of her.  Was he just saying this?  Or did Morgan actually go out and buy Ali Smith’s books?  Did Morgan put him up to it?  Was it a plant?  Did he just read the summaries online?  Did he –

“Briony!  Leaving so soon?” a voice from behind her yelled.  She turned around to see Daniel with a pint of beer in his hand.  “I didn’t get to buy you a drink.”

She was not in the mood for this.  Not at all.  Not after what Fred just said.  “Are you for real right now?” she demanded, not caring if she sounded rude.  “I’ve been with my friends for three hours and you’re still here trying to shoot your shot?”

“I said I was gonna buy you a drink.  I always keep my promises,” he kept trying to flirt.  When he noticed the exasperated look on her face, he was a bit taken aback.  “What?  Can’t a guy buy a girl a drink these days?”

“They definitely can, Mr. Accounts at RBC, but not when she’s clearly trying to have a good time with her friends,” Bee chastised him.  “And like I said, I’m going to be your boss one day, so this is probably not your smartest move.”

“What’s your problem?” Daniel narrowed his eyes.

“What’s the issue here?” Bee heard Morgan’s voice from behind her.  She rolled her eyes again because of course, of course he had to get out of his car and show up now.  And like any boy, he was going to huff and he was going to puff until he blew the whole house down.  “Are you bothering her again?”

“I can handle it.”

“I’m trying to buy her a drink.  Can you relax?” Daniel said to Morgan.  

“Well clearly she said no, and clearly she doesn’t want it.”

“Who are you to speak for her?” Daniel demanded.

At this point, Morgan sidestepped around Bee to come face to face with him, peering down at him.  Bee grabbed hold on his arm.  “Morgan, stop it.  Let’s just go.”

“She.  Doesn’t.  Want.  You,” Morgan enunciated his words clearly.  “Get the fucking hint.”

“What are you?  Her boyfriend or something?”

Bee had had enough.  She was going to be the last person in the universe to cause a scene at a bar.  “Let’s go!” she said loudly, forcefully pulling Morgan’s arm towards her to disengage him.  She practically dragged him out of the bar and towards his car.  He kept looking back but eventually stopped to get into his car.  

“What the fuck is wrong with that guy?” he asked to nobody in particular, Freddie closing the door to the backseat once he had squished himself in.

“You should drive Fred home, he’s had a long night,” Bee ignored his open question.  She buckled her seatbelt and caught a quick glimpse of Morgan, who was adjusting his own.

“I should go back in there and --”

“Fred’s had a long night,” she repeated, more forcefully this time, so Morgan would get the hint.  She knew he was a hockey player and all, but he never seemed like the type to get hot-headed about something so futile, something she could have handled all on her own.  “Drive him home please.”

She looked through the rear-view mirror to see Fred smiling, and when he caught her eye, he winked at her.  Morgan began driving along King Street, taking a few side streets before ending up at what Bee could only assume was Fred’s condo building – a sleek, glass structure that seemed like it was a hundred storeys high.  He probably lived in a penthouse that overlooked the city skyline.  The money shot.  He probably had a bathtub filled with money.  

Fred left after thanking them for a fun night out, patting Morgan on the shoulder as he wiggled his body out of the backseat of the car.  Morgan waited until Fred got into the lobby before looking over at Bee.  “You wanna come over mine?”

It was the first time he was inviting her over to his place.  The queasiness in her stomach that began after her conversation with Mason roared up again.  Despite whatever reservations, she nodded her head.  Reversing the car, he made his way out of the entranceway and back on to the street.  

With one hand on the steering wheel, Morgan reached over with his other and grabbed her hand.  He brought it towards his lips and kissed it tenderly, setting it down on his lap.  Bee’s heart fluttered at the tenderness of the action.  It momentarily cleared her mind, reminded her that it was just Morgan, that they were just Morgan and Bee, in a car together driving to his place.  Everything around them – the people, the stores, the restaurants, the entire city of Toronto – none of it mattered in that moment.

And then her mind brought everything back to her.  

“Don’t ever do that ever again,” she said, her voice somewhere between a stern demand and a whisper.  

Morgan looked over at her.  “Do what?” he asked.  She should have assumed he was going to play dumb.

“I don’t want anybody fighting over me, ever.”

“Why not?”

She sighed, glancing out the window.  “There isn’t much worth fighting for.  And I could have handled it.  I was handling it.”

“There isn’t much worth fighting for?” Morgan threw her own words back at her.  “Bee, are you fucking nuts?”

“What?”

“You…you severely underestimate how much of a catch you are, you know that?”

She looked down at her thighs, squished against the pristine leather of his luxury car.  Her pants were $10, on final sale from H&M.  She’d bought them two years ago.  The part at the inner thigh was starting to become too thin from years of her thighs rubbing against each other, and she was sure they’d rip soon.  She wondered if she’d be able to fit into the same size and style when she would inevitably have to buy a new pair.  Probably not.  Her body had changed since then and she was lucky that she even still fit into these.  They had stretched enough to accommodate her body but it was become too strenuous on the fabric.  “Stop.”

“I mean it, Briony.”

He knew exactly when to use her full name and it agonized her.  “I’m being serious,” she said, unable to look at him.  “Just please don’t do that again.”

“I can’t make any promises.  When I see someone making you uncomfortable, I’m going to react.”

She dropped it.  She knew she had to.  There was no way she was going to win this.  If Morgan wanted to be that person – fine.  There was no way she could control it.  He didn’t regulate her behaviour, so she couldn’t exactly regulate his.  She just wished he was able to see how the confrontation made her uncomfortable.  

His apartment was slightly what she expected, slightly a surprise.  It was big, which she imagined it would be, with what seemed like two bedrooms and a den.  There was a nice big kitchen with an island, but it looked barely used, despite some of the see-through cupboards being filled with various pots and pans.  It was nicely decorated, with a big grey sectional, a huge flat-screen TV, and wood accents throughout.  There was a giant painting on the wall that caught her eye – one of Gord Downie, from the Tragically Hip – and she immediately fell in love with it.  If she could steal one thing from his apartment, that would be it.  

“I can give you a change of clothes,” he said as they walked into his bedroom.  She saw that he had an ensuite and wondered if the other bedroom had one too.  It was much bigger than her place – probably three times the size at least, maybe four – but it was still cozy.  

She changed into a tank top with a Maple Leafs logo on it and a new pair of boxers.  She was pretty sure he worked out in the top, and she laughed at the thought of him washing it six or seven times to get the smell of sweat off of it.  Both fit.  The tank didn’t drape over her like it would on a small delicate body and make her seem shapeless, and the pair of boxers he lent her, because of their elastic band, fit snug around her hips.

When she turned around from changing, she saw him already topless underneath the covers.  He tried to make it seem like he wasn’t watching her, but she knew he was.  Out of the corner on her eye, on the bedside table, she could see the green and maroon spine of Autumn by Ali Smith on his bedside table.  She gulped.

He barely waited for her to crawl into bed and snuggle into his body before he started kissing her, and really, who was she to deny a kiss from him.  She kissed him back hungrily, wasting no time in relishing the feeling of his hands wandering along her body.  She felt the muscles in his back and shoulders and shuddered at how firm but soft he was.  She’d never felt anything like it.  When his mouth began to wander, nipping and licking at the skin on her neck, near her ear, and along her clavicle, she let out haughty, satisfied sighs, dragging her nails lightly over his biceps.  

When his hands began to wander lower and lower, playing with the elastic band of the boxers, she giggled slightly.  “I just put those on,” she breathed out.

“Too bad I want to take them off,” he muttered against her skin.  “Fuck, Bee.  You drive me fucking crazy.”

It was comments like that that sent her to oblivion.  She had no way to react.  She was momentarily lost in the abyss, her head tilted back enjoying the sensation of his lips on her skin and his hand down her pants.  It was only when she opened her eyes and saw the familiar cover of Autumn again that she snapped back to reality.

He likes to be alone.  He was alone all weekend reading that book.

Those Instagram model girls are looking for guys like him.

He’s the star defenseman, Bee.  This isn’t going to be a regular relationship.

“Morgan…” she said absent-mindedly, her thoughts intruding on her again, become too much to handle.  By now, Morgan had pushed the shirt all the way up so it was bunched just under her breasts.  Of course, she wasn’t wearing a bra.  She hadn’t even noticed her state.  He continued to kiss her skin.  “Morgan.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you seeing anybody else?” she asked suddenly.

That question definitely brought Morgan back down to reality.  He stopped kissing.  “God no,” he answered immediately, as if it was the most absurd question in the world.  He furrowed his eyebrows.  “Are you?”

“No.”

The words hung heavy in the air.  Morgan knew where this was going.  It wasn’t exactly the most opportune moment – he would rather be doing other things – but he acknowledged Bee apparently wanted to talk about this now.  “You call the shots here, Briony.  I fell for you hard and fast.  You gotta know that by now.  You gotta know that I want to be with you.”

Bee didn’t know what to say.  She had so many thoughts swirling around in her head that she didn’t know what was right and what was wrong; what was a rational thought, and what was completely irrational.  She didn’t know what was an actual cause for concern or her just projecting insecurities onto Morgan.  Her thoughts wandered back to Ashley Kadri, trying to picture a typical day for her, shrouded in secrecy.  Then she thought about the other wives and girlfriends, and whether or not they had a similar life.

Then came the most important person: herself.  She was in her last year of her studies.  If everything went to plan, she’d finish her course and its exams in December.  She’d apply to jobs in the New Year and hopefully land something.  She’d graduate in June.  She’d work her way up the corporate ladder.  

She had to think about her education.  She had to think about her job prospects.  She had to think about her career.

She was Bee.  Briony McTavish of Toronto, Canada.  A Master’s student.  A poor, starving Master’s student.  A teaching assistant at the University of Toronto.

A professional athlete’s girlfriend?

“Can we…” she began, unable to think straight.  “Can we maybe…I feel like you’re going to hate me.”

“There is nothing you could say that could make me hate you.”

She sighed.  That wasn’t true.  “I have to think about my education and my career.  I like you and I like being with you but those things are my top priority.  I’m conflicted because this was all unexpected but I love it and I’m having so much fun and I just…I just know that I can’t get too distracted.  My education and my career have to be my top priority, Morgan.”

“I know, I know,” he agreed, nodding his head.  “I support that Bee.  You know I support that.”

“Can we…can we just wait?  Not put a label on it right now?  Like, I know I’m not seeing anyone else and I don’t plan to, and you’re not seeing anyone else right now --”

“And I don’t plan to,” Morgan added.

“And you don’t plan to,” Bee nodded.  “So we can…can we just take it slow?”

“Take it slow?” Morgan repeated after her.  “Listen, Bee…I’ll do whatever you want me to do.  I just want to be around you.”

His words brought her back to what Auston said to her that night at dbar, about Morgan liking being alone, and what Fred had said that night about Morgan being alone in his room reading Ali Smith.  “I thought you liked to be alone.  Auston said you liked being alone.  So did Fred.”

“I do, Bee.  And I know you do too.  I don’t know…can’t we be alone together?”

She smiled at his choice of words.  He was definitely reading Ali Smith if he was using an oxymoron like that.  “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes it does.  We can make it make sense,” he said.  “You and me, alone…like, nobody else surrounding us.  No team, no city…whatever.  But together.  Us.”

She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.  God, he was so earnest.  Maybe the next thing she should recommend to him was The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde because Lord, the look on his face and the hope in his eyes made her want to melt into a puddle right then and there.  

She nodded her head.  She pulled him closer and continued to kiss him because for the first time that night, it was the only thing on her mind, and the only thing that made sense.

[benjaminjofaiho]

The Captain Next Door Ch.3

Summary: You’re a doctor who also just so happens to be a fan fiction writer. You love lots of fandoms but Captain America is by far your fave, so what happens when you get a new job, move to Brooklyn and realize that the brownstone you bought is right next door to Captain America? Obviously shenanigans ensue.

Warnings: Swearing. Light Mentions of NSFW material.

AN:  I’m sorry for the super late update. I am actually in London right now for vacation so I thought it would only be right for me to post an update. Hopefully this will be the last time I have to take a hiatus like this. Thank you for all your reblogs, comments and likes. Your feedback is always welcome and I love hearing from y’all. It’s worth noting that I do not care for or abide by the timeline, there are some people mentioned that haven’t technically been brought together yet [ As per Winter Soldier ] but I did it anyway.  P.S. I do not currently have a beta and the ‘f’ and ‘u’ keys on my keyboard are messed up so incase you see repeating letters anywhere they aren’t supposed to be feel free to let me know.

“It’s my genuine pleasure to be here Y/N, and please, Steven is far too formal, ma’am. Steve is just fine. Thank you for your befriending Sam-” Steve started.

           “Samuel! Samuel, yes, Sam, Samuel. Samuel Wilson. Wilson comma Samuel on government documents right Samuel?” You looked at him like a fire that needed to be put out. Grabbing the bottle from Captain America who was, literally standing in your foyer looking like all of the things that your fanfiction fantasies could hope for. However  there was a look of something on his face. It was an emotion you couldn’t place. He looked down and rubbed his strong arms over his neck and your eyes jumped to his biceps.

           “Please,” you said out of breath, and gesturing to your living room “make yourself at home, I just need Samuel’s help in my office with that thing I told you about earlier. Remember Samuel?” Grabbing his collar like a drowning child. Steve quirked a brow.

           Laughing and prying your fingers from his shirt “Aww come on Doc we’re back at Samuel? I thought we were friends Y/N-”

           “Samuel PLEASE” you screeched wringing your hands around the wine bottle.

           “Alright, alright fineeee I’m coming Doc” He rolls his eyes and juts his thumb out while sticking out his thumb at you and Steve laughs a little. You both start up the stairs and to the left into your office. Closing the door and turning swiftly and taking in a sharp breath you prepare to give Sam the haranguing of his life.

           “Samuel Wilson!  If that even is your name!” You accused, pushing his chest “How could you not tell me?! You know I’m basically in love with him right? Why did you not tell me you were roommates with Captain Fucking America?”

           “Listen Doc, I’m going to be honest with you. Getting to know you these past few weeks, we have our fun but I’ve never seen you flustered… and I’m a little bit of a prankster. Plus the added bonus that whenever you talk about how great the Avengers are you always focus on Cap really made me want to be able to have a front seat to this reveal without you being able to prepare yourself and be composed. ”

           Unable to help it your shoulders start to shake lightly and then uncontrollably and before you knew it you were open mouth laughing. “Ok, ok. You got me but I just want you to know that you’ve started a prank war. You brought this upon yourself, Samuel! And you owe me! You have to be super nice to me for the foreseeable future because that was just cruel and unusual punishment.”

           “Still with the Samuel?!” He laughed along with you “C’mon, Doc!”

           “Fine, Sam. Let’s go down stairs, I think we’ve kept him waiting long enough.”

====================Steve’s POV=======================

           Stepping out of the shower Steve was happy to be back in his own home after another strenuous mission. He was supposed to be on vacation. Matter of fact, Falcon was the one that was meant to be handling things for about 3 weeks but hey, when the your country needs you, and Nick Fury personally calls for you, what are you going to say, no?

           Usually when he comes back home from a long mission he goes to Sylvia’s in Harlem and picks up a plate and continues to make it through his to-do list. Next on the list was season 2 of Friends, which from his googles he learnt was maybe a rip off of a show called Living Single? Never the less it was added to his watchlist. He was unusually happy though because his roommate Sam told him all about their new neighbor who apparently was very blessed when it came to throwing down in the kitchen. Speaking of his loud roommate he heard him shouting over the Troubleman soundtrack that he didn’t want his food to get cold. Pulling on a plain white shirt and some khakis he put on some sneakers he jogged down the steps he quickly got a bottle of wine out of the fridge and followed Sam out of the house and locked the door behind him.

           Meanwhile Sam was skipping like a child on Christmas. He knew Sam loved his food but he felt as if this excitement was a bit over the top. He’d eaten with her several times. Was the food that wonderful? Why did he look so happy? Standing behind him on her stoop he was getting more and more confused. Raising an eyebrow at Sam who was almost bouncing out of his shoes, Sam turned around and gave him a large gap toothed grin.

           “You alright buddy?” He asked gently placing an arm on Sam’s shoulder.

           “Yeah, sure man. Just really happy about what’s about to happen” before he could respond, the door swung open and a tantalizing aroma started wafting out as he heard Sam say exactly what he was thinking. The house smelled amazing. Before he knew what was happening he was being asked if he thought you looked nice. He could have sworn that he heard his favorite song, Unforgettable by Nat King Cole playing while she spun in what seemed like slow motion and stopped to look at him. He heard his mouth saying she absolutely did look gorgeous. While they were having whatever exchange they were having the music in his mind was still playing and he couldn't stop looking at her like the magic she was. Slowing drawing his eyes over her umber skin, this dark yellow-brown that looked so warm and inviting. He looked at her eyes like onyx and was getting lost in them in the best way possible. She was tall for a woman, around 5’8 at least, and she was definitely what the internet told him was thiccc. Looking to the top of her head he wanted to run his hands through her hair and then twist it around his hand and pull back and expose her neck and pepper kisses there. His eyes were pulled to her breasts and as he watched them rise and fall he thought about palming them and taking a Hershey’s Kiss into his mouth and  all of a sudden his member started to wake after such a hibernation. He had to snap out of it. This was grossly inappropriate, this respectable woman invited him to her home being neighborly and here he is, violating her in his mind. Imagining terrible sinfully delicious things he could do with her, and to her. Imagining pulling her dress up and finding that she forgot to wear panties. He caught her looking at him crazed and to be honest he hadn’t been listening or even hearing anything said between her and Sam. His eyes shot down to the floor and he rubbed the back of his neck. He had to convince himself that she couldn't read minds. Yes he had met some special people with special abilities but he had to just pray to Christ she wasn’t one of them. Feeling guilty he continued looking at his feet. He heard her tell him to sit and she took the bottle of wine from him. Her long beautiful fingers briefly grazed his and he felt as if he was diving into that ice cap all over  and there’s the music again! That same song! What the hell was happening? Okay she was beautiful and ethereal and quite frankly looked like a painting that someone slaved over and like she was made out of love and light, but so what? He’d been with other women since Peggy, sure, but none of them made him feel this way. None of them made him hear music for Pete’s sake. While she and Sam went upstairs  he was grateful to be able to adjust himself without anyone seeing. He took a seat on her sofa.

           Looking around Steve was loving the ambiance. He looked around and then stood up to get a closer look of everything. Laughing to himself he saw the record player propped open and spinning with Nat King Cole’s smile looking up at him. At least he wasn’t completely crazy. Okay, well maybe he had to get laid? It had been a while admittedly. He let out a stressed sigh and continued to look around. He saw pictures leaning up against the wall in frames and the nosier part of him got the best of him and he started thumbing through them. He saw little girls and a teenage boy, assumedly her family. Her parents and then her. There was one of her smiling with her white coat and remembered that Sam does call her the Doc. Thinking of Sam he turned wondering what was keeping them, listening keenly he heard hearty laughter. Sam came down first and held a hand out to help her down the stairs. She clutched her imaginary pearls and in an exaggerated Southern Belle accent said

           “Oh my, thank you kindly sir! You’re just too sweet! ”

           “Of course darlin’! Anything for you!” Sam said in a likened manner. “ Plus you know our agreement and all. I’m yours until you say so”.

He caught her wink at him. What was she winking for? Why was Sam hers? He just met her for crying out loud how close could they possibly be? In an instant he felt something in the pit of his stomach. What was that? It felt heavy and uncomfortable. He actually shifted in his seat thinking his stomach started acting up when he was about to have the meal of his life. More importantly he wanted to know what the hell was going on with Sam and Y/N. All he knew was Sam needed to back the hell up. Why was he getting so angry? Why was he feeling so…so…- that train of thought was cut off immediately when he saw her smiling and her lips moving with no sound coming out. It was as if a shining light was upon him and in an instant he felt better. Like any issue he had could be solved. What was this?

           “Captain” She said in a voice as smooth as silk “Are you ready?”

He wasn’t sure what she was asking about but he knew right then he would do whatever and go wherever she wanted. He would follow her to the ends of the earth if she smiled at him like that.          

           “Yes ma’am. And please it’s Steve!” He said giving her a patented Captain America smile.

           “Well if I have to call you Steve you have to call me Y/N. Dinner’s ready and the table is set. Are you ready?” She repeated.

           “After you” He said with an out stretched arm.

           Seated at the table he was admiring her while she whizzed around the kitchen. He didn't know how long he was staring at her before he heard Sam clearing his throat. Turing his attention back to his roommate he caught him with a mischievous smile on his face.

           “What is it?” He inquired

           “Nothing man, just looking at that stupid grin on your face every time you look at the Doc. You like what you see?”      

           “Sam, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

           “Mmhmm, yeah, sure, whatever you say Cap”

           “I hope you guys brought your extra loose pants because there’s a lot of food here!”

           Turning his head to the sound of her voice he found himself getting up.

           “Can I help you with anything ma’- I mean Y/N.” He corrected

           “That's so sweet of you Steve.” She said passing him a big plate of fried chicken in one and a bowl of mashed potatoes in the other. “Sam why don’t you come get some plates as well?”          

           “I think the Cap’s got it”

           “It’s no problem, helping out is the least I can do.” They said in unison. She laughed at their harmony and agreed. After a 2 more trips to the kitchen the table was set and they were all seated around it.

           “Everything looks delicious Y/N, I can’t wait to try it” He said.

           “I’m more than happy to oblige. You both were so helpful the first day we met, Sam has been really handy around the house as well. It's the least I could do, plus he told me that you loved soul food. Although he didn’t tell me you were Captain America, it was a little bit of a surprise. Kept that little bit of information for himself.”

           He looked at her tentatively “I hope it was a good one, hope you’re not disappointed”

           “Absolutely not” She rushed out. A silence fell in the room and he was getting lost in her again.

           “Well!” Sam’s voice irrupted, shattering the moment “Now that the cat is out of the bag, lets dig in!” He snapped out of  whatever daze he was in and for the next hour they ate and laughed. He had his fill of the most amazing fried chicken that was just spicy enough, corn bread, mac and cheese,  greens, black eyed peas and things he’d never even tried before. He looked at her and realized he hadn’t stopped laughing all evening. She was a fantastic host,  just as he’d thought.

           “The chicken is amazing Y/N”

           “Thank you! You don’t think it’s too spicy? She asked.

           “Not at all” He started “ I actually added a little bit of Frank’s hot sauce on it”

           “Don’t listen to that mad man” Sam said “Mr. Boner was right, the chicken is hot.”

           “Mr. Boner…?” Steve said confused.

           She laughed“ Sam means Dr. Boner, the bone man. He’s just my work husband and lowkey a little bit of my husband, husband. We were friends back in med school and now we work together. He was the one that recommended me for the job. And I’m sure as you remember from the first day we met, I can do most things by myself, however when I really do need help and I’m completely out of my depth I call him.” For some reason Steve started to feel that thing he felt when he was watching Sam help Y/N down the stairs.            “Wow,” he breathed “So you both must be close”

           “Yeah what can I say? He’s…peculiar but he’s always there when I need him. He’s one of the people I think I depend on second to my family. In fact I would love for you all to meet officially one day.”

           “Officially?” Steve inquired.

           “Yeah Sam here has spoken to him a couple times on Facetime and they make fun of me and Boner tries to tell him some embarrassing school stories.-“

           “Yeah! The Doc here is trying to keep this calm and collected façade up and I would like to know what she was like before she turned into this statue of constant perfection” Sam said rolling his eyes.

           She kissed her teeth “Boy please, I’ve been perfect from the day I came out the womb!”

           A comfortable silence fell over them and Steve imagined to himself that there probably wasn’t a time she wasn’t perfect,

           “I hope y’all have space for desert! I’m keeping it real simple with apple pie, homemade  vanilla bean ice cream sprinkled with pralines.” She started to push her chair backward from the table but Sam told her he would do get it. Did he really know her home thatwell? After a little back and forth and a lot of  convincing she decided to stay. It was only the two of them at the table and then she turned  her full attention to him.

           “So Steve, tell me about yourself.”

======================Your POV=======================

           Try and act normal Y/N , please Y/N, please please, please I am begging you just be normal for once in your life. Try to act like you didn’t fall asleep after rubbing one out to this man last night.  Think of anything. ANYTHING else. Anything but how you want  to be devoured by him and how you want to eat him up too.

           “So Steve, tell me about yourself” Nice one Y/N! Way to fucking go! tElL mE aBoUt yOuRsElF. What the hell is this? 60 minutes?

           “That’s a really broad question…” He started. Of course it is! Here I fucking go trying to be all Fox and Friends, meanwhile there is a whole ass museum about ‘himself’ that I now have to act like I’ve never been to.                                                  

           “That's fair” you said, trying to save face “How about what do you like to do when you aren’t wearing the stars and stripes?”

           “Hmm. I enjoy the internet as whole. So much helpful information on there. I like that when I become a fan of something in real life I can meet people who also love said thing and they can give me more information about it and even new recommendations. I enjoy painting. I consider myself a little bit of a foodie. I like going to movies that are barely full so I can get that theater experience without so many people around. That’s all I can think of off the top of my head.”

           “What forums are you a part of? What do you like to paint? Are you into realism or do you kind of just do your own thing?  I love making food and eating it even more. I do that theater thing too! I want to be able to cry without anyone seeing my ugly crying face.”

           “I highly doubt anyone would ever consider you ugly”

           You looked down quickly thanking God for the melanin because chile, the blush. He probably is this nice to everyone he meets. He is, after all, THE Captain America.

           “I kind of just like random stuff,” he continued “probably nothing you’ve ever heard about. And as for my paintings I also just do whatever comes to mind. And drawing and painting things that are fandom relevant.”            

           “Fandom?” You said with the quirk of a brow “You sound like someone from Tumblr. Now I’m really curious. What do you get into online Captain Rogers?” You noticed a redness creeping up on his face. Hopefully you hadn’t upset him by getting too flirty. He was from the old school after-all. Before you could put your foot in your mouth any further, Sam came out with the desert.            

           “Now listen here!” Sam boomed “ I had to take just a sliver of this here pie to make sure it was good. In our line of work we have lots of enemies. One can never be too careful. I did this for the greater good. I did this for my country! That being said I don’t want to hear anything about this further! We’ve spoken about the missing piece long enough!”

           After a brief second passing between you all, laughter broke out and you told Sam to sit his ass down. You got up and served Sam first, since he did ‘work so hard to insure the pie was good’. Next you turned to Steve and served his up. You served yourself a plate last and sat down to wait for the verdict. You heard a deep moan coming from the Cap and turned to see him with his eyes closed. That moan was definitely going to be thought about later.

           “You like?” you asked. The only response you got was a slowly nodding captain savoring your food. You were on cloud nine at this point. He opened his eyes and looked at you. You started on your pie as well. The night continued and you brewed some coffee for the gents and a nice cup of honey ginger tea for yourself. You all eventually moved to the living room and were all laughing like old friends. It was as if even though you just met you had some type of rhythm going. A push and pull of sorts.

           “Well” Sam slapped his hands to his knees standing up “Thank you so much for dinner Doc”

           “It was great to have you as always Sam,” turning to Steve “ And it was an absolute pleasure to meet you. I hope to get to find out eventually what exactly you’re into Captain Rogers.” There goes that redness again. You had to get this shit under control and stop making him so uncomfortable in your home.

           “Trust me Y/N, the pleasure was mine.”

           “I hope we can do this again sometime soon”

           Shutting the door behind them you leaned up against it and let out a squeal. You couldn't believe it you actually had the Captain America over at your house.  For the last few hours you wined and dined him. Now all that was left was to 69 him. You laughed at your immaturity and went to clean up the kitchen.

           The next day you went into the hospital. You had unofficially started and not everyone knew you yet. The guy that had your old position’s name was still on the door. You walked into your office and greeted your assistant, Sonia. She was from the UK and had everything and everyone in the hospital on lock. She knew everything about everything, how to get what you needed, and if she couldn’t get it herself she always ‘knew a guy’ who could. Usually you had a rule about not mixing business with pleasure, but for her you were thinking about making an exception.

           “Good morning Dr. Y/L/N. How was your weekend? She said in her beautiful voice.

           “Nothing much, just had some friends over for dinner”

           “And I didn’t get an invite?” making the cutest pouty face, you had to laugh.

           “Damn” You said with a contemplating look on your face, raising a Tupperware with her name on it “Now what am I gonna do with this? I mean I thought I was going to bring this to my wonderful super ADULT assistant but all I see is a little baby. Little baby? Do you know where my assistant is?”  

           Straightening her back and stretching out her arms with grabbing motions “ Gimmie, gimmie! I’m a big girl!”

           Laughing even more you hand her the Tupperware. You lean on her desk and prepare to ask for your messages when a man walks in.

           “Sonia, my darling, do I have any messages?”

           “I didn’t know you were his assistant Sonia” You said turning to her.

           “I’m not” she remarked making a biting motion at the gentleman. Completely ignoring you he rolls his neck.

           “Christ. I had to cut my vacation short. I heard the new boss has started up. He wasn’t even supposed to start for another 2 weeks. Since I got passed over for the whole promotion to head of Cardio at least I could make a good impression with the guy and be a sturdy number two. I’ve heard his work is flawless and I’ve heard he’s developed his own technique for plaque removal and I want a front row fucking seat. What’s his name again? Dr. Y/L/N?  From the what I hear we have a new cardio god in our midst. It’s about time. I really needed that deep tissue massage too. I hope he notices my efforts, fuck.” You scoff and he rolls his eyes over to the schedule wall as he squints. “There’s an angioplasty scheduled?  I need to be in on that. Sonia, babe, you have to get me into that.”

           With your chin in your arm casually leaning on the desk and looking out the window you remarked “ I don’t think you’ll be able to Dr. Daniels. Seems like you’ve had your own procedure scheduled for the same time.” He finally turns to face you, while you continue to look out the window at the Manhattan skyline.

           “How’d you know my name?” he asks abruptly. You lazily turn to him and tap a finger to his badge. “Right you are…ma’am. Well I can understand that this is a little complicated for you.  medical schedules were difficult for me to read when I first started working here–”

           “Dr. Daniels” Sonia tried to interrupt. He put his hand up to silence her.

           “As I was saying I understand how complicated medical jargon can be for...” How did he manage to look like he was undressing you yet belittling and patronizing you at the same time? “someone like you.”

           “Dr. Daniels!” Sonia said a little louder this time.

           Cutting a look at her he continued “Even though it seems that I have a scheduled procedure I would like to move it as something more important would be taking place at that time.”          

           “More important than patient care?” You questioned “Seems like bad doctoring to me.”

           “Again ma’am, I am sure this all has gone over your head and I would be happy to get someone to explain this in layman’s terms to you-”

           “Gerald!”

           “Sonia please! I have been trying to explain to this… woman.” He looked you over again, this time with more annoyance than anything else. Starting to mumble he started “ Honestly these people watch one lifetime special and get a WebMD membership and think they’re doctors now. Honestly I didn’t go to John’s Hopkins to deal with this bullshit.”

           “That is no way to talk to a patient” You remark “that how you talk to all your patients?”

           “First of all, you aren’t my patient ma’am; I am just trying to be curious to you, and you’re making that pretty difficult by the way. Secondly you come in here acting like you know everything because what? You read my name super fast and can read a procedure board? Thirdly, you’re putting me in a foul mood when I have an important meeting any minute now. Quite frankly I am done with this conversation so good day. He’ll be here any minute” He said straining and looking past you, down the hallway while adjusting his jacket trying to look his best.  

           “Well then this is as good a time as any I suppose” You reply. Fully turning to face him you badge dangled from your neck. “ I’m ‘Him’.  Hello Dr. Gerald Daniels. My name is Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N. You can just call me Dr. Y/L/N. I’ve heard I am the resident Cardio God.”

           He looked as if he was going to shit a ton of bricks. All that could be heard was Sonia snickering and when you turned to look at her she was typing jibberish on a blank word document. You had to laugh at her antics. Flinging your coat onto the couch in her office, you called over your shoulder “Sonia my messages in 5 please. I’d like some tea as well. Surprise me.” You slammed your door closed and sat at your desk. Damn it felt good to be the boss.

           The rest of your day went by without a hitch and at 4:55 you heard a knock coming from your door.

           “Come in!”

           The door opened slowly to reveal a humbled looking Dr. Daniels with a blueberry scone in one hand and a cheesy mug in the other. You didn’t want to laugh but you did. You loved bad jokes.

           “Dr. Y/L/N, listen I am so sorry about this morning. I was really amped to meet you and I went about things the wrong way.  I would like us to start again… If that’s alright with you. Please don't let my poor behavior taint your opinion of me. I get a little high strung with a  mix of competitive and it usually doesn’t manifest in the way it did today and I cannot stress how sorry I am about it-” You put your hand up cutting him off.

           “ Look dude. You were totally an asshole and should actually be reporting to HR. I was going to report you myself but I asked around about you and apparently you aren’t usually that way with patients. In fact doctors and patients around seem to love you, I couldn't get one bad thing said about you. So I’m giving you a second chance, because I believe in those. But you’re on probation with ME.”

           “Thank you Dr. Y/L/N! This is such a relief for me!”

           “But tighten up! I don't want that kind of trash in my halls again, Daniels! I mean it!” Looking at the clock “And after hours it’s just Y/F/N. Are those for me?

           “Of course!” Handing you the scone he got a packet of heavy cream and jam and gave that to you as well. “Blueberry tea. I sort of have a thing for blueberries and I grow this myself.”

           Nodding you took a sip. It was delightful. It tasted as if you could bottle up the feeling of a country afternoon eating a picnic on some grassy hill with cows roaming over yonder.

           “Daniels this is delicious. I’m going to have to get the leaves from you sometime.”

           “If I give them to you, could you lift my probation?”

           “Don't push it!” Throwing his hands up he made a ‘no offense motion and laughed’ backing out of the office he said he would see you tomorrow.

           Officially off the clock you brought out your laptop and logged onto Tumblr. You sent your beta a message.

MSG to Jay: Jaybaby. I know this is coming late. I know, I know. Works got me swamped but on the up and up I’ve come up with some new heat and I’m sure the readers will love it.  Here are the next few chapters. Could you get them back to me within the week? Love ya big time. X

           You sent that and started with your new fic. This one was about a girl moving next door to captain America and basically falling in love with him. It’s going to be super fluff and light hearted cuteness. There’ll probably be a situation where oh no! they have to sleep in the same bed or some trope shit like that. Before signing off  you heard a ping and it was a couple jpegs from Rod. It was a picture of you this time. Well part of you anyway. You had your identity to worry about but your icon was a picture of your eyes and part of your hair  behind your glasses. He made the most beautiful rendition of it. He also sent a couple of pictures of T’challa, Aquaman for your amusement. Attached you found a note:

Doc. You were one of the first people to start reblogging my pictures and you were the first person to write a fic based off something out of my imagination. You really gave me great feedback and support and I’ll always be grateful for that. Take care for now and happy writing.

           You changed you icon to the one he painted and closed your laptop smiling. You turned off the lights to your office and started on your way home.

Tag list.

@champagnesugamama @smooth-sunflower @queenwinchester27 @hamilboots @trees-are-friends (y’all didn’t ask to be tagged explicitly but I assumed you may want to be, If not let me know and I’ll remove you from the taglist xx)

[banshee-cheekbones]

Are you still taking prompts? If so, can you write something about Standrew and the tongue pops? Or just standrew in general, because there's not enough of them. You're really cool, by the way.

this took so darn long to write and I am so sorry! anyway, here’s the one with all the tongue pops! 

features the following: friends to lovers, so much goddamn fluff, insecure Andrew, pining Steven, an absurd amount of cuddling, first kisses and literal sleeping together. 

4.4k, read under the cut or on ao3 here.

and it was me and you (this could last forever).

Steven is already halfway to Andrew’s desk, a heavy paper bag from a gourmet candy store near Pershing Square dangling from his fingertips, before he starts to think that this might be a bad idea.

The thing is, while him and Andrew aren’t exactly strangers, he wouldn’t go so far as to say that they’re friends. Colleagues, yes. Acquaintances maybe, but even that might be pushing it a bit.

(Of course, there’s also the slight thing that he has for Andrew, the thing that relates to how his arms fill out his shirts and how his rarely seen smile wholly illuminates his face, but, so far as he knows, Andrew is unaware of that thing, and Steven doesn’t plan on telling him about it anytime soon.

Or ever, ideally.)

But now that they’re officially going to be co-hosts, thanks to the helping hands of fate (and a suggestion from Adam), it had seemed imperative to Steven that, after filming their first episode together, he should get Andrew something to show his gratitude, something that said thank you for agreeing to this and saving my show. However, now that the present is actually in his hands, the problem is that Steven doesn’t actually know how Andrew feels about spontaneous gifts, particularly ones that are presented in public (although most of the other people who work in this pod are gone for lunch, so at least there’s that). Truthfully, he doesn’t know how Andrew feels about a lot of things, doesn’t even really know his favorite foods (which, considering the whole premise of Worth It, is a little bit yikes).

So even though he spent twenty minutes driving around the block looking for a parking spot, another thirty minutes trying to narrow down the perfect gift and a frankly absurd amount of money, the whole thing is definitely starting to seem like a bad idea.

However, before he can back out and go hide the present in one of his desk drawers (it might still be salvageable as an end of season gift), Andrew glances up at him, and Steven freezes with one foot half-raised, stuck in an awkward half-pivot position.

“What’s in the bag?” he asks, pulling his headphones off and draping them around his neck.

Technically, Steven could still get out of this, could say that the bag is nothing and he was just coming over to talk about the next episode. However, his intuition tells him that, somehow, Andrew will know that he’s lying, which is bound to lead to an awkward dynamic that will bleed through into their next video, and Steven didn’t lose one co-host only for things to get immediately weird with the next.

So he sets the bag down on the corner of Andrew’s desk (a little too hard, based on the sharp clink of porcelain that comes from inside).

“It’s a present!” he answers, and his voice seems too loud in the unusually quiet space. “Like an unofficial ‘welcome to the Worth It family’ kind of present.”

“A present,” Andrew says suspiciously as he hooks his fingers into the bag’s handles and tugs it closer. The top is taped shut, and as he picks it open, loose strands of clear tape sticking to his thumbnail, he continues, “This better not be a prank.”

“When have prank videos ever been my thing?” Steven asks, more than a little bewildered that Andrew’s mind would even go in that direction. After a moment, Andrew shrugs minutely.

“Never, I guess.” When he finally finishes picking at the tape and reaches into the bag, Steven’s anxiety shoots through the roof. His stomach is viciously churning, and his brain is filled with the thought that he should snatch the bag and run before it’s too late.

Before he can really debate the pros and cons of that particular decision, Andrew pulls four packages of candy corn out of the bag, followed by the small porcelain dish, which Steven is relieved to see is undamaged. Andrew cradles it in his palms for a few moments, turns it this way and that, expression impossible to decipher, before he carefully sets it down and turns to the candy.

“Gourmet candy corn,” he says with a slight uptick to the corner of his mouth, the precursor to a genuine smile. At the sight of it, Steven’s anxiety is replaced by something almost akin to triumph. “I didn’t know this existed.”

“Those aren’t even the weirdest flavors they had.” Steven had done a quick Google search before he actually went shopping, so he’d had some preparation for when he’d actually walked into the store, but he’d still been overwhelmed by the truly bizarre array of candy corn flavors that had filled an entire shelf. In the end, he’d gone with four of the more normal flavors: s’mores, pumpkin pie, toffee, and caramel apple. After a moment of careful consideration, Andrew grabs the s’mores package, slowly tears it open and fishes a single piece out.

“Did you find any truffle flavored ones?” he asks, looking appraisingly at the piece of candy caught between his thumb and forefinger. “Or gold coated? Can we do a whole episode on these?”

“Maybe in a few seasons. When we run out of other ideas.” Andrew makes a sound that might be a laugh before he casually tosses the piece of candy into his mouth. Steven hasn’t tried any of the flavors and doesn’t have any particular interest in doing so, but he’s prepared for Andrew to either be very into it or find it absolutely disgusting.

What he isn’t prepared for is the sound that comes out of Andrew’s mouth.

It’s a surprisingly loud popping sound, a little softer and rounder than a click. It’s not a sound Steven’s ever heard anyone make, and he has no idea what it’s supposed to mean, if it signifies a good or bad reaction, if what he actually heard was a poorly disguised gag.

Naturally, his curiosity is piqued.

“What was that?” he asks with a surprised laugh.

Immediately, Andrew’s face goes totally and utterly blank.

“Nothing,” he mutters. After pushing the bag of s’mores candy corn over so that a few loose pieces spill out onto his desk (and Steven almost groans in protest, because that’s exactly why he got Andrew the bowl as well), he wraps his fingers around his headphones. “I have to get back to work. Thanks for the candy.”

Before Steven can say so much as you’re welcome, Andrew jams his headphones back on, and if that isn’t a sign that the conversation is totally over, Steven doesn’t know what is.

As he trudges back across the office to his own desk, stomach roiling with anxiety, two thoughts fight for space inside his mind.

The first is that, the next time he gets the idea to give someone a surprise present, he’s going to run it past Adam first or sit on it for a few days, because unless he read the situation totally wrong, he might have to find another new co-host.

The second is that, while he’s definitely curious about the noise Andrew made, if he ever hears it again, he’s going to keep his mouth shut about it.

Thankfully, despite the certainty that grows with each subsequent day that passes, he doesn’t have to find a new co-host.

After three days of doing his best to avoid interacting with Andrew in any way, Andrew shows up at his desk and sits on the edge of it, which makes it more than a little difficult for Steven to ignore his presence. That being said, he doesn’t have it in him to look Andrew square in the face yet, so he settles for fixing his eyes on where the sleeve of Andrew’s t-shirt bisects his arm.

It’s not exactly a great decision, because his face flushes with unwelcome heat, but he can only hope that if Andrew notices, he blames it on something else.

“Are we still doing this whole thing?” Andrew asks with a frown. “Or did you find someone else?”

Steven shakes his head rapidly, tongue nearly tripping on the words spilling from his mouth as a fresh wave of anxiety and guilt hits him.

“No! I mean, yeah! Of course we’re still doing this. If you want to. Do you?”

Andrew nods. “What are we doing next?”

“I was thinking steak.” Steven grabs his laptop and slides over a few inches so that Andrew can better see the screen. Bringing up his planning documents, he continues, “If that’s cool with you.”

Andrew’s face lights up, and Steven suddenly understands why moths are so attracted to bright lamps and flames.

He only allows the thought to linger for a moment before he clears it away with a firm shake of his head and goes back to the planning documents.

They don’t talk about what happened with the candy corn, about the sound and the way Andrew utterly shut down when Steven asked about it, but by the time Andrew strolls back off to his own desk, they have some semblance of a game plan for the next episode and frankly, for the time being at least, Steven thinks that’s more important.

As time goes by and they finish season one, begin production of season two and somehow become actual friends along the way, Steven hears the sound often enough to get some idea of what it actually means.

It’s definitely not a thinly disguised gag or retch. When it slips out during filming, it’s usually after Andrew has bitten into something that he particularly likes-

(and while the three of them never discuss it, all of those moments are edited out during post)

-but it’s not exclusively contained to food. One day, a few days after they start filming for season two, they stop by Annie’s house to hang out for a few hours. Mere seconds after walking through the door, Andrew ends up with Annie’s cat bundled up in his arms, both of them looking as pleased as can be, and as Steven follows Annie and Adam into the kitchen to grab some drinks, he catches the sound. When he glances back over his shoulder Andrew is simply scratching the cat between the shoulders, but Steven knows what he heard.

So the sound seems to be related more to general happiness than culinary satisfaction. But even though he’s fairly sure that he’s identified the cause of the sound, Steven still has no idea why Andrew shuts down when it happens, like he’s ashamed of it.

On more than one occasion, he almost tells Andrew that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to hide it from them, but he always stops himself before the words can fall from his mouth. Bringing it up, even if it’s in a positive light, is bound to make Andrew even more uncomfortable, which is the exact opposite of what Steven wants to accomplish.

For the first time in his life, he thinks that he truly understands what it means to be stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The next time Steven hears the sound when it’s just the two of them, it’s after the cocktail episode.

Technically, they aren’t alone, because Matt is in the driver’s seat, but he has a podcast playing and seems wholly focused on listening along. Steven could have moved up to the passenger seat when they dropped Adam off, could have at least moved to the other side of the backseat, but that would have required him to move away from the warmth of Andrew’s side and that, frankly, is the last thing he wants to do at the moment.

He isn’t exactly drunk, but his head is pleasantly fuzzy on the inside and difficult to hold up, which is how he ended up leaning it against Andrew’s shoulder. He’s not really sure how one of Andrew’s arms ended up wedged between his lower back and the seat, but he has no intentions of complaining about it. He’s happy just to reach down for the bag of candy in his lap, which they’d grabbed from a convenience store earlier in the day. It’s nothing special, cheap and obscenely sugary and vaguely peach flavored, and it feels almost crass to be eating it so soon after the crazy expensive scotch and the fancy snacks at the last location, but it’s hitting the spot all the same.

Andrew hasn’t said a word since they dropped Adam off, but if there’s one thing Steven has learned about Andrew, it’s that he has a sweet tooth, so after popping a piece into his own mouth, he roots around for another, tilts his head up so he can sort of see what he’s doing, and holds it up to Andrew’s mouth. Andrew glances away from the rain-streaked window and pauses for a moment before he sinks his teeth into the edge of the candy and pulls it into his mouth. His lips brush against Steven’s fingertips, and a light shudder courses through Steven’s body, one that he hopes Andrew doesn’t notice.

Before he can worry too much about that, Andrew makes the sound again.

Immediately, his arm goes as rigid as a tree branch against the base of Steven’s spine, and his hand stops gently moving back and forth against Steven’s waist (which is a movement Steven didn’t even notice until it suddenly ended). Steven doesn’t want to draw any attention to it but, on the flip side, he wants Andrew to know that it’s okay, that he likes the sound, that it’s just one of many things about Andrew that make him smile. Unfortunately, with all the fuzz filling his head like so much cotton, finding the words to express all of that seems like an utterly insurmountable task so instead, he drops his cheek to Andrew’s chest, curls his fingers into the soft hem of Andrew’s shirt, and says words that he can find.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, meaning it with everything he has. “Today was amazing.”

Andrew stays stiff for a few blessedly short moments before, with an abrupt exhalation, his whole body goes lax, and he slumps back into the seat. His fingertips graze against Steven’s hip as his arm relaxes, and he turns his head and presses his face into Steven’s hair.

“You’re welcome,” Andrew mumbles. The words brush against the top of Steven’s head like a gentle kiss, and another shudder courses from the crown of Steven’s head all the way down to his toes.

They stay like that for the rest of the ride.

After that, Andrew touches him more a lot more.

His fingers trace over Steven’s knee when they’re sitting beside each other during meetings or while they’re editing, he bumps their arms together when he’s made a particularly groan worthy pun, and he makes a habit out of slinging his arm around Steven’s shoulders when they’re sitting in a booth together, whether they’re filming or out with friends. While Steven tries to tell himself that it doesn’t mean what he wants it to mean, that he shouldn’t reciprocate too heavily because that’s a road liable to end in disappointment, he does it anyway. He leans his head on Andrew’s shoulder when they’re waiting for Adam to finish setting up a shot, occasionally musses up Andrew’s hair just to be a pain, fiddles with the sleeves of Andrew’s shirts or his watchband when he’s bored.

In addition to the sudden increase in their physical contact, there’s also a noticeable increase in how often Steven hears the tongue pop.

They still edit it out of the episodes when it happens during filming, but outside of that, while Andrew still flushes when it slips out, he no longer freezes. Instead, after a momentary pause, he continues with what he was doing, whether that was working on something on his laptop or whether it was letting Steven absently run his fingers through his hair while they watch a movie in their hotel room.

But even though Andrew seems to be more comfortable with it, Steven still doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to upset the balance they’ve found with each other, doesn’t want to ruin things just as they’re starting to get good.

Mainly, he just doesn’t want to make Andrew unhappy.

He never asks, but in Australia, Andrew tells him.

They’re both lying on Andrew’s bed, tipsy on one hundred year old wine (which Steven thinks is possibly the most decadent thing he’s ever consumed, gold and truffles and caviar be damned). They’re on top of the covers, and while Andrew’s head is resting on the pillows, Steven’s is down towards the end of the bed, and his feet are brushing up against the headboard. One of Andrew’s hands is resting on Steven’s ankle, covering the strip of skin between the hem of his jeans and the top of his sock. Every so often, his thumb drags back and forth along Steven’s skin, and every time it happens, Steven has to bite back a soft sigh.

The sun went down an hour or so ago, and there’s only the soft, dim glow from the lamp between the beds illuminating the room. The window is open, and the sheer curtains are gently swaying in the breeze coming off the sea. Adam is on the balcony of the room adjoining theirs, and Steven can hear him quietly talking to someone, probably Annie, on the phone; the individual words are lost underneath the wind and the call of seabirds, but the steady murmur of his voice is nothing less than utterly soothing.

Steven thinks that, if he could save one moment in his life to return to whenever he needs a moment of peace and quiet, he would choose this one.

He’s on the verge of drifting off to sleep when Andrew clears his throat and lightly squeezes his ankle.

“The sound,” he begins. His fingers carefully slide underneath the hem of Steven’s jeans and skirt along his shin, and this time, Steven can’t bite back his sigh, even as he waits patiently for Andrew to keep talking. After a moment, Andrew pops his tongue off the roof of his mouth, and Steven automatically smiles. “It’s something my mom does when she’s really happy. She’s done it for as long as I can remember.”

“That’s really sweet,” Steven says. He hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting Andrew’s parents in person yet, but he’s talked to them over FaceTime in the past, and both of them seem like absolutely lovely people.

“Yeah. It’s one of my favorite things about her, actually.” He goes quiet again, and while Steven doesn’t know if there’s more information coming or if that’s the end of the story, he doesn’t want to push. Dropping one hand to Andrew’s leg, he busies himself with tracing his fingers along the curve of Andrew’s knee, along the seam traveling down the inside of his calf, and then back again. Eventually, Andrew continues, “I used to do it all the time, when I was younger. But people always commented on it. Some of them made fun of me for it. So I tried to stop doing it. It was easier than explaining or fighting back.”

Maybe it’s the wine floating around his brain, but a sudden flush of something like anger floods through Steven. He wants to find every person that ever made Andrew uncomfortable and make them apologize.

After a moment, he realizes that he’s one of those people.

Reluctantly, he moves his hand away from Andrew’s leg and scrambles to flip himself around. He miscalculates slightly and ends up flopping down with his face mere inches away from Andrew’s, so close that their legs are touching, but he doesn’t bother to move away.

“I’m sorry that I made you feel bad about it,” he starts. “I’m sorry anyone ever made you feel bad about it. You don’t have to hide it, not around me and not around Adam.” He knows that he hasn’t actually said that much, but it still feels like he’s been talking for too long, so he finishes with, “I love hearing it. Really.”

The silence between them seems to drag on for an eternity. Andrew barely even blinks; he just stares at Steven with wide eyes, lips parted slightly. Every second that ticks by without him saying something makes Steven antsy, makes him want to fill the silence somehow, but he tamps that urge down. This is Andrew’s moment; he isn’t going to walk all over it just because he’s impatient.

Eventually, Andrew clears his throat again.

“Thank you, Steven,” he says, voice quiet and raspy, like he hasn’t spoken in ages. His hand rises and hovers in mid-air for a moment before it carefully descends and comes to rest on the side of Steven’s face. In response, Steven shuffles forward an inch or so, until he’s close enough to see the lighter flecks in Andrew’s eyes.

There’s a part of him that thinks, maybe, he should stop things before they go any further. Maybe he shouldn’t close the gap between them. Maybe he should get up and move to his own bed. Maybe, even though he’s about ninety-eight percent sure that Andrew wants this as much as he is, he’s deluding himself.

In the end, after giving it some thought, he decides that he’s willing to take that chance.

The first brush of their mouths together is more gentle than the breath that follows it. Steven keeps his eyes open and trained on Andrew’s face the entire time, so that he can back away at the first sign of any potential trouble.

That sign never comes.

Instead, Andrew moves forward, until the space between them is non-existent, wraps his arm around Steven’s back and curls his fingers tightly into the loose fabric of his shirt. Their noses bump together, and when Andrew speaks, voice even lower than usual, like he’s trying to eliminate any chance of it traveling beyond their own little bubble, his words brush against Steven’s mouth.

“Can we do that again?”

Steven’s pretty sure that, if he tries to answer that verbally, a veritable barrage is going to spill out of his mouth, an embarrassing jumble of yesand please and wanted this for so long, so he nods instead, curls his fingers into the front of Andrew’s shirt and meets him in the middle.

This time, the kiss is considerably firmer than a breath.

Steven quickly loses himself in the feeling of Andrew’s mouth pressing against his own, in the feeling of his tongue tracing Steven’s bottom lip and his fingers tightening in the back of his shirt. They kiss until he can’t breathe, but he only pauses long enough to pull in a heaving gulp of air before he swoops back in and slots one of his legs between both of Andrew’s.

Eventually, after he’s lost count of how many quick breaks they take for breath, he needs a more substantial pause. Reluctantly, heart thudding against his ribs, lungs aching in the most pleasant way he’s ever experienced, he backs away a few inches. For a second, Andrew chases after him, instinctively it seems, before he comes to his senses and slowly flicks his eyes open. He looks wrecked; his pupils have nearly overtaken his irises, his hair has been tugged into an unruly mess, and his mouth is glistening and swollen.

Steven can’t help but feel a twinge of pride, deep down in his chest, at the thought that he did that all to Andrew.

“Steven,” Andrew says, slipping his hand underneath Steven’s shirt and splaying his fingers wide at the base of Steven’s spine. “Was that okay?”

Steven’s fairly certain that okay doesn’t come anywhere close to describing what just happened. Frankly, he’s not sure if there are enough words in any language in the world to accurately describe the airy feeling in his chest and head, to describe the sheer level of utter joy permeating every inch of his body.

So he doesn’t bother trying to describe it.

Instead, he pops his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

It doesn’t sound exactly like when Andrew does it; it’s more muted, less crisp, but Andrew’s cheeks immediately flush the loveliest shade of pink, and a grin that’s nothing less than dazzling, brighter than all the neon in the world, spreads across his face. After a moment, Andrew ducks down and presses his forehead against Steven’s sternum. When he mirrors the sound, it’s muffled against Steven’s chest, but Steven hears it all the same, and more joy flows through his body like sap in a tree.

Eventually, that’s how he falls asleep; pressed against Andrew in more spots than he can count, still on top of the covers, with one arm tucked underneath Andrew’s head and the other draped around his waist, happier than he can ever remember feeling.

And even though he wakes up just after sunrise with horrible morning breath and an arm so asleep that it’s totally numb, he regrets nothing.

The next time the sound slips out while they’re filming, Andrew doesn’t freeze. He just goes back in for another bite.

When they’re editing the raw footage afterwards, Adam pauses right after that moment. Caught in mid-tongue pop with his eyes closed and his mouth half-open, Andrew looks a little bit ridiculous. Steven, on the other hand, is a little staggered to see the look on his own face; he’s pretty sure he’s never seen anyone so vividly embody the term ‘heart eyes’, and even though he’s not ashamed of it in the least, he still flushes.

“Do you want to cut that out?” Adam asks, turning in his chair to face Andrew, who has been absently drumming his fingers against Steven’s knee since they started going through the footage. Steven’s pretty sure that he knows what Andrew’s answer is going to be; regardless of the fact that Andrew’s stopped trying to hide the sound around him, having it broadcast to all of their viewers is another thing entirely.

Then again, Andrew has always been full of surprises.

“No,” he answers. Settling back in his chair, he tilts back a little and presses a gentle, lingering kiss to the corner of Steven’s mouth, and even though his next words are directed towards Adam, his eyes don’t leave Steven’s face. “It’s okay.”

Steven grins.

Yeah. It’s definitely okay.

[writing-creativo]

The Other Amelia Littlebug

Note: This is a bit longer than ususal (2k) so idk if i should post things like this in parts or not but hEY i didn’t

“From: Océane Duval

23 Rue des Loups, Rouen

France

To: Amelia Littlebug

Berliner Straße, Frankfurt

Germany

 October 14th, 1947

 Dear Amy,

I hope this letter finds you well, wherever you are. I write it as an announcement.

I finally did as I promised the last time we spoke. I came back to Rouen.

But oh Bug, it is no longer the city we loved. It’s broken, injured by bullets and cannons and what didn’t crumble was left to burn. The right side of the cathedral was eaten by the flames, but they are now repairing it. Everyone is doing whatever they can to help, but perhaps we should help ourselves first.

But have no worries, your house still stands, as beautiful as ever, in the middle of the hills. From up here it’s as if I’m watching hell from above. I am not sure it was my wisest decision to come back here, but a promise is a promise. And Baptiste was so happy to see me! You should have seen his face, I had never seen him smile like that. I wouldn’t have known he was capable of such emotions.

I wish you were here too darling, it all feels empty without you.

Yours always,

Océane”

 Amelia Littlebug read the letter twice. And then twice again. The wrinkly paper, yellowed by time, sat on the kitchen table, side by side with a bunch of bills invoices.

How could it be that someone was writing directly to her, from the year 1947? Was it lost mail? Did someone find a letter directed to somebody with an equally amusing name, and decided to pull a prank?

They were all logical questions and equally reasonable responses to the situation, but none of them crossed Amelia’s head. It was not the type of thing that would ever cross Amelia’s head, particularly known for illogical and equally unreasonable thoughts. However, she was deeply fascinated by who this Océane was. Why she went back. What promises she made. Was she helping rebuild the city as well? Was Baptiste a family member? The gardener, perhaps? Or the housekeeper?

She didn’t recognize anything in the letter besides her own name and address. Except that it wasn’t her name, it was yet another Amelia Littlebug, blessed with the same showstopper title.

It was clearly French though. From the ocean sounding names, to the location, and references to the war. Two mysteries solved.

The letter was illogically and unreasonably put up on the wall, as if on display, so that lovely Amelia could look at it every day.

To be fair, she didn’t have many friends to text or message her. But she now had Océane sending her a whole letter. Perhaps not sent to her, she was aware, but it was sent to her address, so she was entitled to call herself Amy Bug.

“From: Océane Duval

23 Rue des Loups, Rouen

France

To: Amelia Littlebug

Berliner Straße, Frankfurt

Germany

 November 1st, 1947

 Dear Amy,

I am not sure of what to say or what to tell you. You know I’m not the greatest with words, you have always been far better than me.

All we want is some sense of normality, a piece of our old lives. But it doesn’t seem like we will have back it any time soon.

I’m working as an accountant again, but I haven’t been charging, it wouldn’t feel right to. It feels good to be busy again but going into town is far from pleasant. Coming back home at the end of the day could be a relief, but Baptiste has been having nightmares. He cries and shouts in bed, so neither of us have been getting a lot of sleep.

I’m so tired Bug. And I miss you, still. I will always miss you.

Yours always,

Océane.”

 71 years later, a second letter sat once again on Amelia Littlebug’s table. This time, it left her disturbed. But many things left Amelia Littlebug disturbed. Shadows: long nights, loud noises, the wind blowing outside... However, it was perhaps logical for her to be distressed this time around.

She spent the whole day thinking about it. Unable to read and reread it again, like she had previously done with the first correspondence. Had Amy answered the other letter? If so, why wasn’t she receiving it too?

It wouldn’t have been the first time that Amelia Littlebug googled her own name, but this time she had a reasonable motive to do so. But no results mentioning 1947, or Ruen, or Océane Duval. Nothing that resembled anything mentioned in the letters.

The letter was hanged bellow its predecessor. Amelia sat and stared at them a lot, not reading, just staring. Was it just her imagination again? Was she seeing things, hearing things? Had she started reading things now? The thought made her laugh a little. The voices had done a lot to her, but they had never kept her company. But deep down, she was enjoying receiving messages from the past. What if is she really was Amy Bug? What if the letters were properly addressed and Océane was writing to her, with seven decades of delay? Could she see and hear things too? Where was she now? was she still alive?

 “From: Océane Duval

23 Rue des Loups, Rouen

France

To: Amelia Littlebug

Berliner Straße, Frankfurt

Germany

 November 10th, 1947

 Dear Amy,

As you may know, today is my birthday. I am offended you didn’t even get me a card!

Baptiste bought me chocolate cake and a bracelet, which I know was expensive, but he won’t admit it. I don’t like it when he does these things. I know he enjoys my company, but I have been enjoying my loneliness more lately.

Things are moving slowly at work, but I already have more costumers. Some of them even remember me from before! They sometimes ask about you as well, but I don’t quite know what to tell them. What do I tell them, Amy?

Yours always,

Océane”

 Océane seemed bitter and angry. Was it because of her birthday? And what about Amy, where was she, after all? Does Océane not know it either?

It was the third letter Amelia had received. It was hanged above the first one.

She started questioning her own reason now. She promised herself she would never do that, but there she was. Were the letters even real at all? She tried clearing everything up by taking them to the post office but half way there she realised they had no stamp. They couldn’t have been delivered by regular mail.

What if it was someone mocking her? What if this was what they wanted her to think? What did they want her to do? Reasonable questions were starting to pop up in her mind. But she had never been very reasonable.

She had crossed miles and countries, so that there was no one to mock or prank her. She had left everything and ran away so she could be herself by herself. No one talking about the silly things she said or pocking fun of the things she talked about. They had ever believed her. They wouldn’t believe her now. But they weren’t here now. So who would pull a prank on a girl nobody knew?

“From: Océane Duval

23 Rue des Loups, Rouen

France

To: Amelia Littlebug

Berliner Straße, Frankfurt

Germany

 December 25th, 1947

 Dear Amy,

I write to wish you a Merry Christmas, surrounded by the best people and things.

I didn’t want to celebrate Christmas this year, I wasn’t quite sure what there was to celebrate, but Baptiste was very much against it. He put up all the lights and decorations by himself while I was at work. I barely knew which house was ours when I arrived.

I had forgotten how much Baptiste used to love this time of the year but, to be quite honest, his joy is contagious. He keeps telling stories of all the Christmases we spent together and all the pranks he used to pull on us (As if we were ever bothered!) but then he stops and cries. He just cries. I know he can’t help it, but he is such a crier now, Bug. I miss it when he was always grumpy and angry at us.

I know I haven’t written you in a while, but I think it’s better when I don’t. So don’t just sit around and wait for my letters, alright?

Yours always,

Océane”

 It was all clear now. Baptiste, Océane and Amy were family. Or perhaps family friends. He isn’t the gardener, the house is probably his too! But why did Océane stop writing? Why wont she write anymore? She seems angrier and angrier by the letter.

And now Amelia had no more space on her wall to put it up. She left it in a drawer instead, but it didn’t leave her thought.

Who would deliver mail on Christmas day? Who would be home, alone and ready to receive it? She was. But neither made sense. Nothing made sense.

So if nothing made sense anymore, Amelia Littlebug decided to do a senseless thing. She drove herself to France, Rue des Loupes in Rouen.

On that same morning she grabbed the letters, packed some food and water, and drove 6 long hours to Paris, and 2 hours more to Rouen. It was insane, of course it was. But it wouldn’t be the first time Amelia was called insane. Not even by herself.

As she arrived, she saw the towers of the churches standout in the middle of the trees. One of them was the cathedral Océane had mentioned, probably completely rebuilt by now. She had pictured a war thorn town, completely alienated from 21st century, forgetting her own reality.

Only when she realised that she was all alone in a country she didn’t know, in a city she never visited, not knowing how to say a full sentence in French, did she understand the absurdness of her insanity. It was self-sabotage, as it had always been.

She stopped, parked her car, and took a deep breath. The world wasn’t that big after all, was it? I mean, she was receiving letters from 1947 Rouen.

Amelia walked out into the street and then into a small coffee shop. She sat in the back, listening, for quite some time.

-Do you speak English? German? - She asked the cashier.

-Little bit, yes! – The old man laughed and she smiled in return, while handing him a paper.

-I’m looking for that address, do you know where it is? I didn’t bring my phone with me, or I would have… – It was a sudden realisation. Illogical. Unreasonable.

Luckily, the man did know where it was. And he carefully explained it to her, so well that it was no effort driving there. It was as if someone else had their hands on the wheel. As if a voice was telling her where to go, which turn to take.

After about 10 minutes of driving, she stopped at an old house. At an old street, to be precise. It didn’t seem like anyone was there, nobody lived there.

The number 6 looked beautiful in style and architecture. Or she imagined it would have once looked, because now the windows were broken, covered in concrete. The front door was ripped apart, barely standing.

It was not where she imagined her prankster pen pal would live. Where anyone would live. But she took the liberty to walk inside. And it didn’t take much effort to get rid of the last stripes of wood blocking the way in.

The house was empty, but Amelia had never felt so full, so whole. And she heard it so clearly now, the voice. She told her to leave, please, to walk away. And if Amelia Littlebug had ever been good at something, it was at doing what she was told.

So she walked out. Staring at the old building again. It all felt pointless. The letters, coming here… All to be told to leave. But she didn’t get in the car right away. She could hear them, the other ones.

She walked down the street, into an old rusty gate. It was a cemetery. Amelia got in, without the fear or reluctance a logical and reasonable person would feel. She felt herself being guided. She knew where she was going even though she couldn’t tell you if you asked. And then she stopped.

She sat down next to a grave, her eyes watering a bit. Her fingers touched the engraved letters on stone.

“Amelia Littlebug

1926-1945

Victime des bombardements de ‘44”

No French skills were needed to know what that meant. Amelia got up. The living Amelia.

And she walked a bit further. Now she understood. It was simpler than she had made it out to be, it always is.

“Océane Duval

1925-1947”

  “From: Amelia Littlebug

Berliner Straße, Frankfurt

Germany

To: Océane Duval

23 Rue des Loups, Rouen

France

  December 27th, 2018

 Dear Océane,

I hope this letter finds you well, wherever you are.

I write to tell you that I appreciated your letters, very much. And that I have delivered them safely. I left them to her with a couple of flowers (she mentioned she liked sunflowers) and I know she’ll find them so don’t worry about it. I know how much you loved and cared about her, she told me that too.

However, I beg you to please stop corresponding with me. I am Amelia Claire Littlebug from London, now living in Frankfurt, not your Amy Bug.

Yours Sincerely,

The Other Amelia Littlebug”

[iamvegorott]

could you—could you maybe have a darkstache fic where wilford conspires with like everyone in the house to mess with dark and dark like *knows* it's going on but he doesn't say anything because he wants to see where this is going sorry i'll shut up now

Took me longer to get to this than it should have, my bad. I believe I twisted this a little bit but I hope you enjoy it. And there’s no need to apologize and no shutting up for you, I like your idea

Big Surprise 

It all started when Dark saw Chase Brody running past his office in the Iplier manor. The Septiceyes occasionally come over but there was a rule of letting everyone know when there were guests. Bing still complains about the day he stepped out of the bathroom after a shower, wearing only a towel, and being greeted by Anti telling him to either put clothes on or join him in a different room. Bing would go out of his way to avoid Anti most days because of that. Everyone has told the search engine that Anti makes those kinds of jokes to literally everyone and rarely means it, but Bing still gets a little red-faced around the virus when he winks at him.

“Chase?” Dark called out, standing up.

“Oh, shit!” Dark heard Chase curse and when he stepped out of the room, he found Wilford standing at the end of the hall with Bing attempting to hide behind him.

“I could have sworn that I saw Chase run past my office.” Dark said with a hum.

“Chase isn’t here. You must be imagining things, dear.” Wilford had a large smile on his face.

“Yep, just imagining things, seeing things when they’re not there, hallucinating-” Bing stopped when Wilford slapped a hand over his mouth.

Dark just sighed and rolled his eyes. Bing most likely invited Chase over, since the two got along very well with their personalities being similar, forgot to inform Dark and Wilford was covering for him.

“I was thinking about having Anti over, what do you think of that, Bing?” Dark grinned when Bing yelped and ran away, heading to his room to hide.

“You tease the poor boy about that too much.” Wilford chuckled as Dark walked over to him.

“And you’re too soft on him.” Dark said.

“You’re soft on me.” Wilford fell forward a little and wrapped his arms around Dark’s neck.

“I’m not in love with Bing.” Dark stated.

“Aw, my little demon loves me?” Wilford sang.

“Could you two be gross and not block the hallway?” Bim said with a huff from behind Dark. Dark raised a questioning eyebrow and Wilford twitched his mustache with approval before Dark grabbed him and lightly shoved him against the wall, pressing his lips against the other man’s. “I just wanted a snack!” Bim yelled before going back the way he came.

When Dark began getting suspicious of what was going on was when he found Anti sitting in the middle of the Iplier living room, tied up with rope with Dr. Iplier and Marvin trying to free him while Wilford sat on the couch and laughed.

“It works, you asshole!” Anti yelled, kicking a leg in an attempt to unloop some of the rope.

“What works?” Dark asked, all four men freezing when the demon spoke.

“Some really kinky shit.” Anti quickly answered, earning a groan from Marvin and a thump to the head from Dr. Iplier.

“Do not imply that I would partake in sex with you. I like having a clean bill of health.” Dr. Iplier said.

“Did you just imply that I’m diseased!?” Anti snapped.

“You are a virus.” Dr. Iplier stated.

“Say that when these ropes are off, you medical school drop out cock!” Anti yelled.

“I did not drop out!”

“You dropped out faster than you’ll drop to your knees to suck my-”

“Why are you two here?” Dark asked, stopping Anti from finishing his comment. He knew how it was going to end and he was not in the mood for that.

“Marvin wanted to test out a new magic trick.” Wilford answered, standing up from the couch. “Anti volunteered to help and Dr. Schneepelstein was busy so they came over here to have Dr. Iplier nearby just in case something went wrong.”

“I see.” Dark did not believe a single word that came out of Wilford’s mouth but he didn’t say anything and decided to challenge himself to discover what was really going on. “I’ll leave you to it.” Dark turned around and walked away, a little excited to do some investigating.

Dark learned about everything when he about to enter the kitchen and he heard hushed talking.

“So the Jims will lead him to here and then that is when Bing will set everything off.” Jackieboy asked.

“Yep. I have everything drawn out in detail.” Google stated. “We’ll make sure that everything is set, all you and the other Septiceyes have to do is show up on time and be in position.”

“This is gonna be great.” Jackieboy chuckled.

“If everything works. Make sure that all of you look over your copies of the plan. One mistake could ruin the whole thing.” Google said. Dark smirked and walked away from the kitchen, he could wait for his chocolate ice cream.

He went to his bedroom and heard Wilford singing from the connecting bathroom, the running water telling Dark that he was showering. Dark went over to the dresser Wilford had claimed and pulled open the top drawer. Underwear, socks, bowties…

“There it is.” Dark said to himself as he pulled out a rolled-up sheet of paper. He had been tempted to tell Wilford to use a different hiding place, but he was thankful he hadn’t gotten to that yet. “Wil. Honey.” Dark sighed when he saw the title of the blueprint was ‘The ultimate prank of all pranks’. He knew that Wilford did that because it was written in bright pink and with blocky lettering. Dark took the paper and folded it up, tucking it into his back pocket and chuckling. He had some studying to do when Wilford fell asleep.

“I’m gonna be a bubblegum bitch.” Wilford’s voice echoed as he reached his favorite part of his favorite song.

“I should probably make sure my bubblegum bitch goes to bed early tonight.” Dark slipped off his blazer before going over to the bathroom door and walking in, locking it behind him when he shut it.

Dark knew every single little detail of the plan and he had to force himself not to smile when the Jim twins an into his office.

“Demon! Demon!” Reporter Jim shouted Dark’s nickname, waving his arms.

“What is it?” Dark asked calmly.

“You are needed!” Dark would normally scold Reporter Jim for grabbing his arm and pulling, but he went with it and allowed himself to be lead out of the room and down the hall. Cameraman Jim had his camera pointed at Dark the entire time, face showing that he was very nervous. “Are you okay, CJ?” Dark exaggerated the softness in his tone. Cameraman Jim stiffened and quickened his pace, walking in pace with Reporter Jim.

“Here! Here!” Reporter Jim released Dark’s arm and ran into the dining room, Cameraman Jim going in right behind him.

“What’s going on in here?” Dark stepped into the room and threw and hand up, catching the bag of flour that was flying towards his face. He yanked on the sack and smirked when he heard Bing yelp and a thud following soon after. Dark then threw the bag to the side, knocking over several small panels and laughing as he watched the elaborate set-up tumble over. Anti cursed when water got dumped on him. Jackieboy found himself covered in glue while Marvin coughed up feathers. Dr. Iplier and Dr. Schneepelstein fell to the ground and landing on multiple pies. Bim and Google were both pinned to the ground by several mattresses. Chase was now tied to King of the Squirrels. Yandere was pouting about colored powders getting all over her white shirt while Jameson tried to wipe it off of his own shirt. Wilford stood in the center of the room, a bright pink liquid dripping down his face.

“Host would like to say ‘I told you so’.” Host stated from the top of a tower of boxes, clicking on and off the flashlight he was holding.

“How did you know?” Wilford asked as Dark laughed.

“You can’t hide anything from me, I thought you knew that, dear.” Dark teased and went over to Wilford, giving him a quick kiss. “Strawberry?”

“I know you don’t like cherry.” Wilford said.

“How come the Jims didn’t get fucked with?” Anti protested.

“I could never hurt CJ and RJ.” Dark chuckled, glancing over Wilford’s shoulder and seeing that Jameson was signing very quickly at Chase with a look of annoyance on his face. “What’s this about making a video for Chase?” Dark asked.

“Are we really blaming everything on me?” Chase huffed, sticking his tongue out at Jameson when the silent man made a fist and made it nod towards Chase, saying that, yes, yes they were.

“Explain.” Dark said to Wilford.

“Well…Chase wanted more views, so I thought that a video of the Darkiplier getting pranked would be amazing.” Wilford said, gesturing wildly with his arms as he spoke.

“I guess you do have a great video, just not one that you were expecting.” Dark chuckled. “I hope you all have fun cleaning up this mess.” Dark sang before walking out of the room, glad he had let all of this happen.

[officialthiamlibrary]

Happy Friday!! We’re back at it again, with an exclusive profile of the one, the only @fandomtrashwhore​, aka Marie! You’ve seen her instagram aesthetics, from Hunger Games to Parent Thiam AU to New Years’ AU. And now, we had the opportunity to learn more about her creative process and her life well…behind the screens. Let’s get it started!

Marie! Why not start us off with a simple introduction. Who is fandomtrashwhore? Or the artist behind her? The twist: the word count should be equal or less than the # of letters of the characters in your favorite TW rarepair ship.

Theo Raeken + Mieczyslaw Stilinski = 29

My name is Marie, I’m 19 years old and from Germany. My life is dedicated to my fandoms but besides that I’m an apprentice as an technical product designer.

Ha, I see whatcha did there with ‘Mieczyslaw.’ Smart, very smart! A Technical Product Designer! What does that entail? Do you like it so far?

I don’t know if there’s a perfect translation for it and I’m bad at explaining (that’s why I’m not a writer and my answers in this interview are gonna be shit :’D). I like the 3D drawing part most and till now I’m quite good at it and even ‘job school’ is pretty good. I feel like Hermione cause I always know the answer and my grades are on point af (which definitely wasn’t like that in my previous schools. I never said anything in class).

Pst, who said you have to be a good writer to have a good time? Just do you haha. That’s what we’re all here for any. That’s super interesting though. What’s another thing our fandom would be surprised to know about you?

I have to confess that I didn’t really mind Theo or Liam before season 6? Like I knew they were there and I liked them but I was too focussed on other characters + I didn’t know they wanted to end Teen Wolf then and felt like they wanted to shove the main pack away to replace it with Liam and his gang. (Now I’m all over the puppy pack ).

AND I watched the whole show till 5B or season 6 (not so sure) in one go and that’s why it felt like Theo and Liam both joined around the same time. (Even if there was one whole season between them…wtf.) I remember that I sometimes couldn’t even tell who was Liam and who was Theo cause I thought that they ‘looked alike’…BITCH WHERE? This is more than embarrassing, but every time I watch a show in one go I have trouble learning the names (when the name is said in the show I usually know who they mean but if I talk about it to someone I sometimes can’t remember the names cause I watched 3 seasons within a week…. :’D ). I definitely need to rewatch and appreciate them more this time cause they’re such amazing characters.

*Actually Cackling* Were there any other characters you were hazy on? Like, would Garrett be the “angry, tiny blonde one” to you?

No it’s embarrassing af. :’D And I know who Garrett is and what he did and he was indeed an angry tiny blonde kid, but I don’t remember details. Sadly (I mean I think he only was there for a few episodes so I don’t think there was much detail so I’m good as long as I know his storyline). :’D

Truth. When I started watching Supernatural, until (at least) midseason 2, I called both Sam and Dean, DeanSam cause they were always together when someone addressed them. So, you’re not alone, eek. Now, THAT’S embarrassing.

So, how did you go from ‘kid, what’s your name?!’ to Thiam instagram aesthetics and our fandom? What drew you in?

I think I jumped on the train quite late (cause as I said I didn’t really mind them), but I think I shipped them before but just realized it last season. So, I think I first felt something for them during their fight in the hospital because I was ‘fun-shipping’ them (not really fun but I wasn’t deep into it cause I didn’t bother checking their ship name or anything but I was like ‘lol. They’re gay for each other) during 6B and then I completely lost it in episode 6 of that season and realized that it is a real thing and it’s love.

From that moment I was a mess and died the last few episodes cause I thought they either make it canon or kill Theo off (and maybe make it canon) but neither happened so….ok. :’D I’m sad that I only had like two weeks left with them but since then it’s been a wild ride and they brought me new internet friends ( a whole pack) and made me tumblr fame … it’s crazy how inspiring they are for edits. I just can’t stop. :’D

BUT how I found my way into the Teen Wolf fandom is a bit funnier I think…(at least for me) :’D

This has now become the moment where I ask, “Marie, can you tell us how you got into the Teen Wolf fandom? Lol”

Idk if it’s funny if you don’t know my friends and me personally. But I always had this little group to talk about series with. Mostly The Walking Dead and Game Of Thrones but sometimes other series. A friend of mine, Lucas, once mentioned that there’s a series called ‘teen wolf or something like that’ and that he knows that one character looks like one of our classmates (his name is Tobi). He was talking about Derek and even showed me a pic AND HE REALLY FUCKING LOOKS LIKE HIM (I mean in close up you know it’s not him but you know…).

He already had a beard really really soon (he looked like 20 when he was 15 or something because of it) BUT NOW he looks even more like Derek cause I met him again, like a year ago, in a club and he lost weight and is working out now and….he’s really a Derek look alike (I wish I could show you but privacy…).

After laughing about that I never heard about that series again till I watched the trailer on youtube, and I have no idea why, but it was around new years eve 2015 to 2016 cause I thought about starting it and told a friend of mine on new years eve and showed her the trailer and she also thought it was cool and we started it about a week after that and binge watched the shit out of it.

BUT I ALWAYS HAD THAT PICTURE OF MY CLASSMATE IN MIND WHEN I SAW DEREK. And I still call Derek Tobi when I talk to my best friend who doesn’t watch teen wolf about teen wolf and want to explain something to her.

Lol are you kidding me?! That’s hilarious! And, I’ll raise you. I have a friend Michael who is a spitting image of Scott–skin tone, jaw, hair and all. I wonder if your Tobi/Derek and my Michael/Scott met, would they have a Scott-Derek-esque relationship haha! Since we’ve veered towards Friends, let’s say you, 4 characters from TW, and 1 of you personal friend were living in a Friends-type sitcom. Who’d you bring into your inner circle and which antics would yall get up to?

Ok! This is exciting! So it would be Stiles, Theo, Mason, Liam and my best friend Michelle (she doesn’t watch teen wolf but the hell do I care). We would just be such a funny sassy pack. Do you know that ‘meme’: ‘My friendship comes in 3 levels: Sass, insults, inappropriate sexual humor’? That would be so us. Michelle and me are basically Stiles and that meme describes our friendship so well; we’re really soulmates so I want the whole pack to become that close too.. Theo is a sassy ass anyways and Mason is also on fire.

Liam would suffer under our jokes and always be the one who makes bad jokes only he laughs about and the rest just laughs about him, but we still love him. Michelle and me would ship the hell out of Theo and Liam (and Mason and Corey are goals af). Mason would be sceptical at first but together with Corey–I can’t have Mason without Corey…sorry?–we get him to join us.

Sometimes, Liam and Theo even go with it and flirt for fun just to piss Stiles off who somehow ended up stuck with us after Scott left for college and Stiles decided to quit the FBI and now works as a police officer at the station. Of course, Thiam gets real and no one really notice it at first cause we think it’s just another prank on Stiles until we catch them making out in my kitchen during a pack meeting. There are also a few other pranks since we’re the sassy pack. Stiles mostly uses his position as a police officer, like towing our cars or getting us a ticket. Theo’s pranks are a bit shocking at the beginning since he needs to learn how to be a decent human being. Liam and my pranks fail most of the time. Michelle and Mason are the prank master team; they always come up with the craziest ideas.

Yassss of course, Corey would be there. There’s always a significant other who’s there so often, they become part of the group lol. That sounds like my kind of party, all the chaos and sassy destruction. All the creativity, it’s the perfect segway to our next topic of the day: fandomtrashwhore, aka your creativity.

If your creativity was a person, what type would they be? What would they do? Wear? Listen to? Handle conflict?

I think it would just be a furious working single mother? Cause during the week I’m working and even if I have nothing to do after work I only seem to be able to edit at weekends and then I sacrifice my whole weekend to it like it’s my child. And furious cause once I have an idea in my head, I drown myself in pic finding which can be so exhausting and I bet I look like a stressed single mom during that cause I’m having so many tabs open and so many search phrases to throw at google in my head at the same time.

I also have specific pics in my head and I could cry if I don’t find a perfect pic to fit that image in my head. I mostly listen to the Airplanes playlist I made while editing but I also love artists like Ed Sheeran and Halsey so that would also fit quite well to keep that person calm and grounded. I also think my creative process is quite vulnerable and moody cause sometimes I can’t wait to edit and other times I feel like I never want to edit again and I need to force myself to (during editing I love it again tho). And vulnerable cause like I said I hate when I can’t find a decent pic and could cry. Same goes for if the app crashes during a long edit or if something won’t go how I want it and my patience dies.

Does that single mother furiously create outside of the Thiam fandom too?

Yes, I do social media au’s for all my fandoms (at least I want to, till now I only have a few.)  I’m not a writer but I have a started Sherlock fanfic with a trailer (I like the trailer tho and some one shots to several fandoms on wattpad. I’m ashamed of them cause I’m a bad writer but I can’t stop trying :’D So here’s my Wattpad. Don’t expect too much!!

I mentioned the trailer for my Sherlock before and right now I’m also working on a trailer ( more like ‘short movie’) for and OC (who ended up to be Marie Avgeropoulos) x Negan from The Walking Dead.Till now it’s 13 minutes long and I love the shit out of it. I never drew for a fandom before (german youtube back in the days, I had instagram fanpages. I still have them but I don’t edit for them anymore cause series took over my life. If you know german youtube and are interested contact me but they’re not that important for most of the people reading this, I think. ANYWAYS, what I wanted to say is that I want to draw something Thiam or rather Airplanes themed soon.

Oh AND I and my best friend (Michelle from before) used to write our fanfics (mostly about german youtubers) over whatsapp back in the days. It was legendary but also very unrealistic and hilarious. Sadly, we lost most of them when we got new phones which breaks my heart.

Dang, that’s tragic. Thankfully, you still have the memories. From trailers to Whatsapp/Wattpad fics, they’ve all led you to this moment: Instagram aesthetics. How’re you inspired when choosing a theme?

Most of the time I find a pic that inspires me to an edit theme. E.g., I saw the 3rd pic of The Buck’s party pic on Liam’s profile for the engagement & wedding edit coincidentally on tumblr or something and was like: “Yes, that could be Liam carried by Stiles and the boy on the right is Scott and the girl is Lydia and the pic was taken by Mason….why would something like this situation happen….A BUCK’S PARTY! I NEED TO DO A ENGAGEMENT AND WEDDING AU. Then, the other pictures and ideas just find their way.

I also accept requests (like the new year eve one) or I’m inspired by a post (like for example when I did the Thiam Mykonos one.

And when you search for photos, what’s your process for choosing the best ones?

Most of the time, the story of my au’s is formed by the pics I find. Like I have an idea and look for pics and then I see which pics make a logic story. Most of the time, I don’t know myself how I find so good pics and I bet I could never find them again (I tried once after I lost some), cause I found them so deep in the internet. Mostly, I google pretty weird sentences and I wonder what the NSA is thinking of me. :’D  For example, I googled “Throwing Tampons” for an Airplanes related edit once. I bet whoever observes me thinks I’m a killer when I look for aesthetics (especially when I did the The Walking Dead aesthetics) and googled for bloody pics. I nearly threw up a few times tho while doing so.

Finding pics is a harder job than you might think; I would say it takes more time than the editing itself, but I can’t say for sure cause once I start editing I’m lost in some sort of tunnel and suddenly it’s dark outside. When I want to google for ‘natural’ pics, I mostly add ‘snapchat’ or ‘instagram’ behind it (e.g. ‘couple eating take out food snapchat’). Also, you can find good pics on pinterest (my Pinterest name is ‘Marie Rosa’ btw), especially aesthetical and gay couple pics!

Deciding is even harder cause I often have 50 pics in my folder and can only use 12. Then, I check which one I definitely want to have in the edit and which I liked best and are the most decent ones to the images I had in mind.

When there are people on it, it’s also important that they look like the characters they should portrait. After that, I still have 20 pics left and cry because I love them all. Then I make two new folders to decide which ones are for Liam’s and which ones are for Theo’s profile and then I delete some more pics with a hurting heart (or I save them for other edits some day) and look which pics fit best together (when I edit aesthetics, similar color is a big topic). The biggest mess is when I get more ideas during editing or realize that one pic I thought I liked doesn’t fit at all and stop to look for more pics and the whole order I had is thrown away again and I need to start again. :’D

My goodness, I remember seeing you and Sammy (@glitter-cake20) talk about finding pics before on Discord, but that is…really involved. Are there times when you create your own images instead? If so, which edits/manips have been your favorite?

I would say the Hunger Games one was my best manip, but I also like the one in the Thiam parent AU  where I replaced Cody’s cat with a baby two times. And, nearly all manips I did for my Airplanes series, especially Disney Kiss (I just edited Dylan on Cody’s ex-girlfriend…lol…no regrets), the bowling pic, all the pack video calls in which I added some more heads and the ones of Derek and Stiles in NYC. I also love the one of Mason and Liam carrying watermelons in the Dirty Dancing AU and the whole Daredevil Thiam (+Morey) AU is also one of my favorites cause it’s so aesthetical. I mean in the end I nearly love them all cause I wouldn’t have posted them if not.

You’ve mentioned CaptainMintyFresh’s Airplanes a few times. What inspired the idea to make instagram posts for the guys’ journey? So far, which has been your favorite chapter to conceptualize? And why?

I don’t really know how it started but I was editing my other ones and Tagan kept mentioning certain pic scenarios. (I think it was around the waterpark chapter.) I was just like: ”She’s giving so many good patterns why don’t you try to make Insta profiles to the chapters.” It was one of my best decisions cause I loved it, even if it was a pain in the ass! I finally managed to catch up and since then I feel so empty…sounds strange but my past few months were spend with Thiam and Airplanes and suddenly, I’m free. I was looking forward to editing other things again and I did but on the other side, I feel lost and don’t even know what to edit or I’m not in the mood. I have an Airplanes hangover or something. :’D  

My favorite to conceptualize were probably the Disney chapters (it used to be the lake chapter but since editing Disney, I like that more) but every chapter was fun in it’s own way. (I’m planning on doing a commenting on the airplanes edits after Airplanes is finished).

I also think you can see how my skills improved while editing when you look at the first chapter edits and the last ones. That’s maybe the thing I’m most grateful about; it gave me the chance to experiment and grow along with the Fic and the characters.

Aww, that’s quite poetic. And, now we have Chapter  39 out, so you must feel the inkliest bit complete!

And, now I can feel the inkiest bit better about the next question to come.

CHALLENGE TIME! If you seen how BTS works, you know we love giving you the Time to Shine! For your first challenge, you can bring any of your insta posts to life in the TW Universe. Which would you choose? Set the scene for how that pic was taken.

I mean I would say the airplane series but it’s not my story so I’m gonna go with one of my single edits.

Then I would say the Parent AU cause I’m a bitch for parent Thiam. I’m gonna go with the pic of the crying baby with the title ‘Great. My son has my husband’s attitude’.

Liam sends Theo to the store with Leo after a discussion so he has some peace and can clean the house without interruptions. Leo won’t stop crying on top of his lungs in the middle of the store and Theo sighs while resting his forehead on the shopping cart (I hope that’s what it’s called).Then, he looks up again and gets his phone out to snap a picture and post it to show everyone that not only Liam is a whining little shit torturing him but now also his son. He laughs at himself for the joke which makes Leo stop crying and laugh with him instead. Theo takes that as an encouragement for his joke and carries him on his arm for the rest of the shopping trip, When they return home, he’s greeted by Liam who’s trying to look pissed but fails and just smirks at him and giving him a slight slap on the arm.

Hahahaha, yes! Dig it. And yes, it’s totally called a shopping cart (at least in my state). One final challenge before we wrap up? Since your images are always so unique to the theme, which pictures/ types of pictures would you use for these one word/phrase prompts:

Celebrity

Stuck at the Airport

Blind Date Gone Wild

Do you just want one pic or a collage of some good pics I would use? BUT I would love to do the whole edit. :’D

Heck yeah, we’d love a whole edit!!

FINALLY, done! Amen.

Wow!! I’m stunned. Over 80 pictures. 6 Days. 3 WHOLE POSTS!?! Plus Comment Posts! Honestly, how do you do it? Everyone, definitely go check these out; their linked with their respective challenges below!

[   Celebrity   |   Stuck at the Airport   |   Blind Date Gone Wild   ]

While we all marvel at that, can we expect any other Thiam instagram themes from you in the future?

Of course. I have an Thiam folder with 357 a folder for the upcoming Mockingjay AU with 37 and my airplanes folder with still 194 pics. Somehow and someday I’m gonna use them all. Planned is to finish the Hunger Games series, cause I still need to do Mockingjay and I also have so many good parenting pics left so there’s definitely going to be another parent Thiam AU and some random ones.

It depends on my mood and requests I get or if I’m suddenly inspired by a pic to edit a specific theme. I also want to make more of Thiam x other fandoms, like Maze Runner, Divergent and so on but I also want to edit for so many other fandoms and ships. Why is there so less time in my mortal life?

Who knows? If only time stopped during the Fandom spurts of our lives, then we could enjoy it as long as we wanted to. Aww, I’m sad to see us come to an end. Marie, what’s next for you?

Finish my apprenticeship in 2020 and have a job after that + moving out. The next thing I’m saving money on right now is my own car till august (I also want my first own TV and playstation and need a new laptop any maybe smartphone :’D). Other fix dates this year are german comic con in december or turning 20 on 27th June.

Of course, I’m gonna drown myself in more fandoms and editing (I mean I’ve already watched 7 new series in 2018).

Oooh, which new shows? (I know I said we were ending lol, but shows are my drug!)

I finally got myself netflix since streaming became officially illegal (it wasn’t actually legal or illegal before but they couldn’t do anything to you and it was safe) here last year and I used it to watch all the marvel netflix productions like Jessica Jones, Iron Fist, Daredevil, The Defenders, Luke Cage (which I haven’t finished cause Netflix won’t let me, every 30 seconds it crashes) and The Punisher. Jessica Jones and Daredevil are my favorites out of them. Then, I also watched How To Get Away With Murder….IT’S MY FUCKING NEW RELIGION! Coliver is giving me more than life. They’re goals.

(In case anyone is interested in what I’m watching and stuff here’s my TV TIME name: MarieRo)

OMG, Ok, Ok, let me end this before I start a rampage about all things Marvel. Thanks so much for hanging with us at the Thiam Lib and letting us get to know you! Is there anything else you’d like to add, including any life/creating wisdom?  Write until your heart’s content.

There are SO MANY intelligent things to say, but I’ll go with: Don’t give a shit about what other people think but always be open for other people’s opinions and teachings BUT don’t believe anything blindly. Just survive somehow tbh.

I have some other blogs on tumblr: @marierosaurus (random shit I like, sexual or funny af, just everything) @music-is-all-i-need-in-life (my music fandoms) @edsheeranfanblog (as you can maybe tell….a blog for Ed Sheeran?) @youtube-fan-live (blog for mostly german youtube)

(Instagram (about my traveling and just random private instagram shit): marierosarius)

I also want to thank you Minna for doing all this (bts is such a cool idea and keeping us inspired with the movie fest and stuff has to be so much work!) and especially for inviting me in the Thiam Discord pack chat 4 or 5 month ago. It’s been a wild ride and I maybe would’ve never known about that chat without you.

I love that chat and how we spend the christmas holidays together and thiam got so much more intense and it’s not even only about thiam anymore we also exchange about many other fandoms and we cried so many smut tears together (I mean that nsfw chat is on fire and I remember voice chat talks between in that christmas holidays we will burn in hell for and I love it :’D) and also fluff and angst tears but mostly smut tbh.

Just thanks for everything the Thiam community gave me, I said earlier that thiam gave me ‘tumblr fame’ and that sound stupid but it did, cause I edited before and nobody gave a single shit and reblogged or liked anything. Thiam was the best thing that could happen to me, even if I mostly edit for myself cause I like it and it’s fun, I can’t deny that it motivates you and makes you happy when other appreciate your work. Even not Teen Wolf or Thiam related posts / reblogs are noticed and it makes me so happy. Ok, sorry for bothering you with all my stupid talking. All I have left to say is: Meow

Awww, thanks so much for the love! Hahaha, our first Discord chat feels like so long ago now lol. And I also wouldn’t be here without my other Thiam Library Mods, esp Tiffany, Esme, Lizzie, Euthoxia, and Vis. They keep me inspired and grounded when life gets crazy. Just as you all, the Thiam Fandom, keep us inspired with your interactions and massive talent. We love you all!

With that, Behind the Screens presents Marie to you! If you want even more, you can read her questions that didn’t make it into the official interview here! Of course, the conversation doesn’t stop here. Not only can you chat with her on her 4 other blogs AND TV TIME, you can find her at these places too:

Main Tumblr: fandomtrashwhore

Inbox/Ask: fandomtrashwhore ask

Wattpad: Marierosarius

Instagram: marierosarius

Snapchat: marierosarius

Twitter: MarieRosarius

She’s also accepting prompts and the like, so hit her up!

We’d like to thank Marie for entertaining our many questions and challenges!! We have tons more BTS coming in the next few weeks, so stay on the look out for those <3

Have a Thiam Creator you fan over? Send us their names. Likewise, if you as the creator, would like to be a part of the Behind the Screens series, give us a shout too! We’d love to get to know you, as well.

[ellygoesnyooom]

May I ask for the RFA's + Minor Trio's reaction to an MC with superpowers? O3O

Sure! I did a similar one earlier, with an MC who can shapeshift (if you want, you can check it out here!), but for this one, I switched it up and gave MC a different power for everyone. I had a lot of fun writing this one! I’m sorry it’s so late, matchups drowned me. I hope you enjoy, though!

Yoosung*super power: invisibility*

He is fascinated with your ability to turn invisible

Sometimes you just,,, poof? Gone???

The first time you showed him was as a prank during halloween

You two had gotten back from a costume party, and you were waiting for him to finish getting changed

He came out, and you were gone

“MC? Where are you, honey?” When you didn’t respond, he started to get worried

You were following him, and would occasionally knock something over, or close a door behind him

He was actually freaking out when you finally snuck up behind him, still invisible, and wrapped your arms around him

He screamed, and you finally returned to visibility, whispering, “boo” into his ear.

“Wha-you-MC-gone?” You were dead from laughter, and he was just plain scared

After a while, he learned to love it, but sometimes didn’t like when you used it against him, lol poor yoosung

Zen*super power: healing factor*

He thought he could heal fast

That is, until he met you

You would cut your finger on a knife, and within minutes it was healed

He was surprised, to put it mildly

One morning, you fell and broke your ankle, and he tried to rush you to the hospital, but you declined, insisting on splinting it yourself

After a long argument, he finally gave in and helped you splint it

You stayed off it the rest of the day, but that night, you took off the split and just walked away like normal

Zen is just so confused. Like how????

Finally he makes you sit down and tell him, and he is shook

It’s because you have superpowers???

I could see him bragging about how fast you heal, he’s just so amazed by you

Jaehee*super power: superhuman strength*

You two were in the cafe working

It was after hours, and she was moving around furniture to make room for a new table she found

She was struggling to carry it, so you just stepped in and gripped the side of the table

“Let me take care of this, Jaehee~” and then you just carried the thing like it was made of feathers

She was just staring at you, amazed and a bit confused and scared

“How did you do that?” “I work out a lot!” “No, you don’t, I’ve never seen you nor heard you talk about working out, or seen you go to the gym. How did you do that?” “Well, I have super powers. It’s superhuman strength” “No way”

You just went over to her and gripped her around the waist with one arm and lifted her high up above your head

“I belive you I belive you put me down please!” poor baehee

From then on, she always went to you to help her lift heavy things

She was also lowkey scared to piss you off so she made sure to stay on your good side 

Jumin*super power: animal telepathy*

He was always so curious of how you could tell what elizabeth wanted so easily

You would just look at her and say exactly what was wrong with her or what she needed

“Jumin, Elizabeth is thirsty. Have you refilled her water today?” “Of course, darling, Elizabeth should be good.” “...no, dear, she is thirsty. She drank it all earlier today. I’ll go refill it for you.”

“Elizabeth wants to play with you, Jumin. She wants to play with a ribbon.” “Elizabeth is sad that you haven’t played with her much today. I’ll go play with her, since you seem busy!”

To say he was perplexed was an understatement

Finally, he sat you down with elizabeth and asked you how you could tell what she needed or wanted

“Well, I can read her mind. I have superpowers.” “Seriously? MC, I understand you like fantasy and such, but this is real life. There’s no way-” “Elizabeth is going to jump out of your arms if you don’t let her go soon.” “She wouldn’t, MC. I know...her.” Elizabeth jumped out of his arms at that moment, and you just sent him a smug grin

“...So you were saying, superpowers?”

From then on, he always asked you what Elizabeth was thinking, just so that he could tend to her needs properly

Your powers also opened his mind more to the seemingly impossible, and made him love you even more

707/Saeyoung*super power: teleportation*

He was always so confused when you would show up in places so quickly

You were on one side of the room, he would look away, and when he looked up again, there you were beside him

You were constantly teleporting around the bunker, and he was always amazed by how quick and silent you were

But, he started to really wonder, so one day he told you he was going to work in the office and shut himself in

He wasn’t doing work. No, he had the security feed up, and was watching you

You were just sitting on the couch alone, on your phone. Occasionally you would laugh at something, but other than that, everything was normal

But then, you just set your phone down and disappeared???

He was freaking out, and frantically flipped through the other cameras, only to find you in the bedroom, on the other side of the bunker.

There was only one way you could have done that

“Teleportation! That’s how you do it!” He just burst into the bedroom, where you were looking for a blanket because you were chilly

You just stared at him for a second before grinning. “You weren’t working, were you?” “Nope. Is it true?” “Yeah, you caught me. I can teleport.” Then, you just disappeared from your spot across the room, and were in front of him in an instant, covering the both of you in the blanket while laughing he also took advantage of that and kissed you lolol

You didn’t hide it from him from then on, and sometimes while hanging out with the RFA, you would teleport around to mess with them. He loved being in on it finally

V*super power: weather manipulation/atmokinesis*

The first time you did it with him, it was because he had planned a lovely date outside, but it was raining, and raining hard

V was so sad that it fell through, and it hurt you to see him so upset over this

So, you quietly changed the weather so that the rain went away, and the sun came out

He was so shocked, but didn’t complain, and the date went on

Towards the end of the date, you just couldn’t hold it in anymore, and told him you were responsible for the change

“Of course, dear. Your bright smile can clear even the darkest clouds.” “No, Jihyun, I physically changed the weather. Didn’t you see the weather report? It was solid clouds and rain for the next 24 hours.” “...That’s true… so you did it?” “Mhm.” “Interesting.”

I can see him totally asking you to make it storm at night during the summer. He loves to open the windows and listen to the rain/thunder with you while drawing, it relaxes him

Saeran*super power: omnilingualism*

You and Saeran were sitting in the bunker together, flipping through the tv

You stopped on a channel that was speaking in spanish

He seemed confused and wanted you to change the channel, but you didn’t

Instead, you started translating perfectly the words

You heard the words spoken and immediately spoke it out to him

“I didn’t know you knew spanish, MC.” “I don’t.” “Well, obviously you do, if you are reading this off to me perfectly.” “No, I’ve never spoke spanish in my life, nor heard it spoken. First time is right now. I have omnilingualism.” “Omni what?”

You took a little bit to explain what it was, and he decided to test it via the web

He would look up phrases in google translate and have you read them off after copying the words to a document, and he was blown away when you read them off fluently.

“Huh, so I guess you can understand many languages. Cool.”

He found it came in handy when trying to get into the bunker, as Saeyoung had started to switch the languages up

He’d just ask you to answer the question, and you could easily. He loved it, but wouldn’t admit it right out

Vanderwood*super power: pyrokinesis*

The power had gone out from a storm, and you two were fumbling around to find candles and matches

He usually had a lighter on him, but for some odd reason, he had set it down and now couldn’t find it in the darkness

He had found the candles in a cabinet, but neither of you could find the matches or his lighter.

Plus, it didn’t help neither of you could find your phones

He was getting mad, starting to curse and kick things in anger

“Hold on, Vanderwood, give me a candle. I got this.”

When he handed the candle over, you just looked at it for a little bit, and he was starting to worry about you, as your face was starting to scrunch up

Finally, a flame shot up from the wick, and you let out an excited cry “Yes! Knew I still had it!”

“What did you do? Did you find a match or something?” “No, silly. I have pyrokinesis, I can control fire, though I haven’t done it in a while.”

He usually had a snarky remark to shoot back at you, but he was at a loss of words, something you rarely, if ever, saw

You took advantage of the moment, to grab the other candle in his hand and light it with your own. “There, now go find the reason why our power went out, thanks Vandy!”

“Don’t call me Vandy, MC, I will tase you and you know it.”

He was low key amazed, but of course he would never ask to see it again, that would be showing too much interest

[nicknederson]

For the Sake of Content: Sara Reads the Hardy Boys Adventures Series Because She Has a Lot of Credit on Google Play and Not a Lot Going On, Admittedly

Hardy Boys Adventure #2: The Mystery of the Phantom Heist

(or) Some Girl Just Has the Worst Party Ever and It's Not Like the Hardy Brothers Help

The SWS! (Summary without Spoilers)

Brothers Frank and Joe are trying out for the role of Roman gladiators with their friend Chet and, no, it's not for any sort of production of Caesar. Instead, the boys are applying for a position as waiters at the Sweet Sixteen of local rich girl Lindsay Peyton. When Chet is rejected, Frank and Joe quickly give up that venture (and subsequently forget about the whole thing) only to stumble across a group of violent pranksters called the Scaredevils plaguing the city of Bayport. Is this just the latest viral video campaign or something far more sinister? Frank and Joe will find out... eventually.

The Review! (spoilers below the cut)

I think I should start out by saying that yes, I am not the biggest fan of the Hardy Boys. For a while now, I've seen their adventures as the try-hard, pseudo-masculine version of Nancy Drew (which is not an incorrect statement) and I just really can't wrap my head around why their aunt lives with them among other things. I hated how the first book in the new series went and I sort of hated this second installation, too. Why? Well, to put it simply- these brothers are dumb.

Is it their fault? Probably not, they're just fictional characters. Is it the author's fault? Definitely- what the hell were they thinking? For starters, you have the boys going to interview for the job of waiters at Lindsay Peyton's party. They make these really gross, derogatory comments about Lindsay while looking at her portrait and then, later, when they actually meet her, they continue making gross comments about her. It's part of this trend I've seen in the two books where the boys view girls in three ways: the hot undesirable (because of personality or some sort of flaw in her very one-dimensional character), the hot desirable (usually a nerdy girl with brown hair like Janine Kornbluth or, in this book, Sierra), and the sister. The sister is just that- the sister of one of their male classmates or friends. In the last book, we had Sharelle and in this book we had Iola. These girls tend to be more fleshed out, but only in the sense that they do traditionally 'tougher' things like saving the boys (Sharelle) or fending off attacks against them (like Iola does in this book). Now these are just the girls the boys interact with that are their own age- the others are all older women like their mother or Aunt Trudy who don't really do anything except fill in some necessary exposition or feed them. Which is another weird thing- Aunt Trudy is their housekeeper? Does their aunt live with them because their mom just doesn't like doing household things that their stay-at-home dad never seems to do? I didn't read enough of the older books to understand this.

But other than the very one-dimensional female characters the boys interact with, there are also plenty of male characters that don't get enough personality- including the boys themselves. The chapters switch between Frank and Joe's perspective and it's a quirk that almost does nothing for the book because- quite frankly- I cannot tell them apart either way. Joe is supposed to be the kooky, funny brother, but Frank always seems to make the same wry jokes. Frank is supposed to be sensible, but he's not exactly making any decisions Joe isn't making. It's really just a useless ploy the Adventures books use and a pain in the ass for readers who have to occasionally flip back to the beginning to check to see what boy they're supposed to be reading from the perspective of. All that said, these are just problems with the general format of the series and not even the problems with this book- Mystery of the Phantom Heist- in particular. Because this book has some problems. A lot of them.

As I said earlier, the boys seem impossibly dumb. And I'm not just saying this as a general statement, but in the very first few chapters, we have them leaving the Peytons' house only to discover that Lindsay's car has been keyed with the rude phrase 'Rich Witch'. Now, for some reason, the boys relate this to a prank video they had been watching some minutes earlier where a boy chucks a slushie at an unsuspecting drive-through attendant. Why? I have no idea why, but they do turn out to be related so I guess that was the book's way of telling us that right from the get-go. Keep in mind, these same types of jumped-to conclusions disappear in the latter half of the book when they would rightfully make sense. But more on that later- for now, we're still talking about the keyed car.

After leaving the Peytons' house, the boys see this keyed car in their driveway and don't do anything about it. No, in fact, Joe touches the vandalized car- several times- and the boys make comments about how it's too bad for Lindsay while implying that it's what she gets for being a bitch. They do not- in any way- put together two and two and realize that they'd just walked out on the Peytons' house after being 'rejected' from the position as waiters and that this vandalism could easily be seen as something they did to get back at the family. They don't seem to realize that at all. So they go with their friend to some generic burger place to get some generic burgers- all while commenting on how gross Lindsay is and how cute Frank found Sierra- only to get into a disagreement with some boys from Bay Academy.

Now, this is another thing that I have a problem with when it comes to the Adventures series and their attempt at world-building. It is very one-dimensional and it doesn't try to be inventive in the way it takes this small town and tries to make it something new. Instead of creative, new takes on things, we have the age old rivalry of public school vs. private school in Bayport High School and Bay Academy. The Bay Academy boys are brutish, entitled, and drive around in Mercedes Benz with vanity plates that say 'Awesome Dude' while harassing bus boys at the local burger place. Frank and Joe- mimicking this psuedo-masculine sensibility that comes from older books- decide to stand up to them for this great unjustice, but keep in mind, these are the same boys who saw someone's car vandalized and decided to just walk away without even informing the owner because they just plain didn't like them. This entire scene goes down in such a robotic, bizarre way up until the police arrive. As another testament to how dumb the brothers seem to be this entire book, they assume the police are there to arrest the trouble-making Bay Academy boys.

Which... ?????

No, actually, the police are here to arrest them because they were the idiots who had a disagreement with the Peytons' and then did nothing when they saw their car vandalized in the driveway and just carried on their merry way. "Oh, but we didn't do it!" Yeah, but it clearly looks like you did, genius. This could have been easily avoided if you'd paid attention for five whole seconds and realized you couldn't just leave after seeing Lindsay's car vandalized. But whatever! This is just a children's book, right? So whatever.

The boys get dragged into the police station and you'd think it would be no big deal because they're chummy with the police, but oh no- big plot twist, the one officer on the entire force who doesn't like them is chief now. Hm, wow, hate it when that happens. This will become a recurring problem throughout the book when Chief Olaf- who is just so poorly characterized you cannot tell if he's evil or just stupid or maybe both- constantly acts as a roadblock for the boys' progress on the case. If you could call it a case. Which I wouldn't. Because they don't seem to really know what's going on until about chapter... thirteen.

After making it clear that the boys are suspected of being the vandals, the book switches gears to just sort of divulging into a mess of Joe frequently checking YouTube videos posted by the vandals and the boys always being a second too late to stopping them. I would admit that was a cynical view of what happens, but it's actually not too far from the truth. It's only about half-way through the book that the boys do any sort of detective work and even then, it's incredibly simple. Frank recognizes someone in one of the Scaredevil videos, but can't figure out who it is. But, oh, Tony Riley from school is here and wow, he's got a really obvious scratch on his face and he's carrying around a jacket with a bandanna hanging out of his pocket JUST LIKE IN THE VIDEO.

Is it really detective work if you just spot something hanging out of someone's pocket? I don't think so- no.

Especially when the person makes it very obvious that they now have money when they shouldn't and leave their phone on the table while going to check on their car supposedly being keyed only for Joe to just go through their texts and find the ringleader. Who is it? Surprise, the only person who it could possibly be since he's been a violent and very obnoxious character from his introduction. This would be Bay Academy's Colin Sylvester. Colin Sylvester is apparently not Bayport's sweetheart but naturally, the boys can't go to the police with their suspicions because the police outright say that they won't investigate him since his parents donate to the police station. While this very apparent corruption of the legal system in Bayport feels like a problem they should look into, the boys ignore it in favor of doing some other inane things around town trying to figure out how to pin Colin with the crime.

When their garage gets burned down, the boys get video evidence of the arson with Colin's voice on the recording saying 'this will keep the police busy', but since seeing the chief is apparently inconvenient, they just skip over that bit for a few chapters until it becomes relevant again. Now, this is also one of those books where it very obviously plots the clues out in verbal cues throughout the boys' activities- we have exhibit A, exhibit B, and exhibit C all happening in succession, but of course Frank and Joe don't pay it any mind since it doesn't mean much of anything to them until much later when they finally string everything together. I understand that's a tactic used in these kinds of mysteries, but it's also so painful for the reader to have to sit through clue after clue falling into the boys' laps while they just idle around waiting for the big reveal to happen. We have everything written out for us- the least the author could do is let our protagonists agonize over it a little bit longer. The Hardy Brothers don't seem to want to spare the time to do that when they could be, say, going on dates with pretty girls.

This brings up the issue of Sierra- the party planner of Lindsay's Sweet Sixteen and Frank's crush. Sierra- from chapter one- is clearly pegged as a potential culprit, but the boys don't seem to realize this until they physically see her with Colin later in the book. It takes them an impossibly long time to realize Sierra is up to no good even when her erratic actions- like asking them out on a boat that subsequently breaks, lying about what she was doing for the five whole minutes they were on the boat, and becoming defensive when they catch her in the lie- are a clear indicator that she's up to something. Even when Joe is the first one to realize she might not be up to par, Frank is so adamant in his misplaced trust of her that he refuses to listen to his brother. So we have a clear culprit who is only ignored because Frank thinks she's pretty. I'm dead serious. These boys also don't seem to realize that going onto a boat that isn't rightfully theirs without Sierra is a clear set-up to get them into further trouble with the Peytons. And when the throttle breaks, it takes them a second to realize another way to stop the boat is to turn it off.

Frank's obliviousness concerning Sierra is also another reason the boys decide not to trail her and Colin when they see them leave the movie theater after they spent an entire night trying to stake out Colin to see what he was up to. Frank is just too sad after seeing them making-out to continue their detective work and can't believe she would do this to him. Is it really that hard to believe, Frank? No, because it's very obvious.

Other parts of the book feel as equally pointless or misplaced- the strangely high-tech device one of their dad's former co-workers give them that echos with the ridiculous tech they used in the over-wrought Undercover Brothers series, how easily the boys give up when questioning involved persons or how slow they are to piece things together, the fact that the boys still refer to girlfriends as someone's 'girl' despite it being the early 2000s, and even the very ending of the book. The mystery itself is very clever and somewhat interesting, but the execution is lazy at best- made especially apparent in the last chapter. The Scaredevils- the gang acting as the mysterious culprit- is a group of people that, as the boys learn, are being paid off by Colin Sylvester to commit various acts of vandalism and destruction around Bayport. They start fights, they graffiti things, and they leave their mark on plenty of objects all while uploading videos of their barely concealed faces to YouTube to document their reign of terror. There's also a little bit where Frank and Joe seem surprised that girls could be involved in this scheme that just made me roll my eyes. But the scheme itself is hinted at being part of a larger plot to keep the police around Bayport busy so that none can act as guards at Lindsay Peyton's Sweet Sixteen- the biggest event in Bayport this year. Sounds interesting, right?

Well, it is- until you learn that this entire scheme is just Colin getting revenge against Lindsay for never going on a date with him and not letting him be friends with her. As to why Sierra is a part of this, there's no given reason besides that she happens to be dating Colin at the time. Seriously, no reason given. And while there could have easily been a way to spin Colin's discontent at being rejected, the very ending trips over itself on its way to the point when it seems to remember it's called 'The Mystery of the Phantom Heist'. Huge spoiler alert, guys: there is no Phantom Heist.

Colin and his friends easily infiltrate the party at the end and- after using a very obvious scheme to get the guards outside- proceed to pull guns on the guests and demand their valuables. Seems pretty scary, right? Well, it probably would have been if there had been any thought to it. The guns are fake, the guards get back in easily because no one bothered to bar the doors, and the police show up in seconds after the boys go through the erroneous steps of disarming Colin and his buddies because they didn't even take the guests' phones away so it was incredibly easy to call 911. Colin, Sierra, and his friends are all arrested and Lindsay declares the party back on and the relationship between Bay Academy and Bayport High School is superficially mended. Another joke is added to this when the boys express disbelief that they fought armed Roman gladiators at the party of the year and Chet chimes in with a joke about having recorded the whole thing. End book.

Now, this isn't just lazy writing, but a problem that I have with the entire Hardy Boys franchise. In that, it feels the need to step itself up to the point where it reaches unobtainable standards that it can never deliver on. For years, the boys have tried to reflect the 'masculine' side of detective work that their counterpart Nancy Drew apparently can't cover herself. There are gun fights, dramatic heists, and danger galore while the boys fight assassins and deadly ninjas and other some such exaggerated threats. This was all well and good back in the 1920s to 60s when the most dangerous thing Nancy dealt with in her stories was a fall from one foot too high, but in the modern era, we're seeing this attempted divide between the Drew Crew and the Hardy Boys being exaggerated to the point of ridiculousness. The predecessor to the Adventures series- the Undercover Brothers- borderlined on absolutely unrealistic with the way it had the boys hangliding over Ireland to escape armed gunmen while using a pizza box as a high-tech communication device. It was like James Bond for babies, but the lacksadaisal tone it set made it so high-fantasy it was impossible to relate to on so many levels. Seeing as these are books primarily aimed at a younger audience, it's disappointing to see that this standard of 'snails and puppy dog tails' vs 'sugar, spice, everything nice' is still being stuck to in these newer books. The Hardy Brothers shouldn't be this dumb, they shouldn't be this off-puttingly trusting, they shouldn't need fancy technology that doesn't even exist to make up for where their lack of intelligence and wit causes them problems, and I- as a reader- shouldn't have to see none all of these traits in Nancy, but all of them in her 'boy version'. One of the things that bothered me the most about Frank's complete trust in Sierra is that I knew that Nancy would never do that. She would see Sierra as a suspect from the beginning- male or female- and she wouldn't make the same erroneous mistakes that the boys do. It's almost like Nancy- as someone raised as a girl- knows not to trust people easily, treats undeserving people kindly, and always has to evaluate a situation for danger before she enters it. Weird, right?

Either the publisher needs to stop treating Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys as too wildly opposite sides of the spectrum or they need to get better ghostwriters on the HBAs. Because while I'm going to read the next book- The Vanishing Game- because I have the Google Play credit, I am not... going to enjoy it.

[thesoftdumbass]

The Joys of Laser Tattoo Removal

Pietro Maximoff X Reader oneshot

Words: 1370

Summary: Pietro Maximoff has a tattoo that he got when he was drunk, and he wants it gone. What happens when he comes to you for help?

Characters: Reader, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers

Warnings: Lasers, secondhand embarrassment, not much else.

Author's Note: Hi there! This is my first attempt at a writing challenge, set forth by the lovely @sgtbxckybxrnes and I had fun! I have to tell you, I know nothing about laser tattoo removal other that what I found from quick searches on Google. This was inspired by an episode of How I Met Your Mother. This is in Pietro's POV, sort of. You'll see what I mean. I hope you like it! My prompt was This. Never. Happened.

(Gif credit to owner)

"I can't believe this is happening," groaned out Pietro in his accented voice. He was staring at his reflection in the mirror, trying to clearly see his marked skin. His friends were all laughing loudly from the living room, which was not at all helping his hangover. Pietro walked out of the bathroom to face the room of laughing idiots.

Pietro woke up this morning, and disregarding his pounding head and dry mouth, he felt good. After his break-up, Piet was finally feeling like the world was back in order. At least until he spotted the road-runner tattoo'd on his left bicep. His parents would be so disappointed.

As Pietro walked into the room, his roommate and best friend Sam made a comment.

"So why a road-runner, Wile E. Coyote?" This earned more laughs.

"Shut up, Sam."

"What? I'm just really curious."

"I ran track in college, and apparently drunk me thought it would be funny to play a prank on sober me. I really don't want this stupid tattoo." Pietro all but murmured the last part.

Pietro's sister Wanda who had been oddly silent this whole time spoke up.

"Why don't you have it taken off? My dermatology office does a laser treatment to remove tattoos."

"That's a good idea, Wanda! I'll do that," Pietro exclaimed.

"Good. When you do, make an appointment with Doctor (Y/L/N). They are the best in the business," Wanda insisted.

Pietro was on his way to the appointment he set up for laser tattoo removal. As he walked onto the elevator in the doctor's building, Piet noticed a woman in the back of the lift. She seemed intelligent, she was beautiful and Pietro decided to try to flirt with her.

"Hello. Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven," he asked with a smirk.

"No, but I scraped my knee crawling out of hell."

At that, the elevator doors opened and you walked onto the same floor that Pietro needed to be on. Piet felt a slight embarrassment at your rebuttal to his pick-up line, but shrugged it off a moment later. It's not like he would ever see you again, right?

Walking in through the right doors into the Doctor's waiting area, Pietro made his way to the reception desk at the back of the large room. His sister Wanda was there, signing people in for their appointments. After saying hello and signing in, Pietro sat in a chair in the waiting room, scrolling through some work emails.

Wanda, who is your physician's assistant, called Pietro back to an examination room. There was a figure in a lab coat standing there, she turned around when Wanda greeted her. Pietro felt chagrin as he noticed that it was the woman from the elevator.

"Hi," he sheepishly muttered.

"Piet. This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), your doctor. (Y/N), this is my brother Pietro Maximoff. He's having a tattoo removed," Wanda introduced, handing you his chart and not reacting to her twin's odd behaviour.

"Hello, Pietro. I'm glad I can help take that off of your arm," you spoke nonchalantly, not bringing up the elevator incident.

"Nice to meet you, Doctor (Y/L/N)."

"Please, call me (Y/N). And it's nice to meet you too.

Wanda excused herself to get back to work, leaving you in the examination room with her brother.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about before. I hope I did not offend you, I just think you're really beautiful, and you have this sense about you. I don't know what it is," Pietro voiced.

"You're forgiven, and I wasn't offended. It was a noble try, but I have to wonder. Do men really think those lines actually work on women?" you joked.

"I actually don't know, but I hear my roommate Sam using them all the time. I really cannot remember any of them working, ever," Pietro chuckled.

"Good. They're awful," you laughed out. "Well should we get started?'

"Of course, (Y/N)." Pietro rolled up his left sleeve and showed you the colorful tattoo. "I really thought drunk tattoos was something that only happens on TV."

"Oh no, I make my living off of drunk tattoos. There doesn't seem to be any scar tissue, which is good. It should be fairly easy to remove in ten sessions with me. Actually, we can start today," you tell Pietro as you examine his arm.

"That's great!" Pietro cried out. "I want this thing off of me as soon as possible."

"Okay, let me get the equipment set up and we'll be ready."

You prepare your tools and after a few minutes, you are able to begin.

"I have to warn you Pietro, laser tattoo removal can be an extremely painful process," you caution your patient.

"Pain? Ha, my middle name is pain tolerance," Pietro tries to assure you.

"Okay, don't forget I tried to tell you," you said and started the laser up.

Pietro felt a sudden burning in his arm, and he yelled out. You covered your ears at the high pitched screeching, trying to prevent your ear drums from bursting. You turned off the machinery when suddenly Wanda burst through the door, looking bewildered.

The screaming had long since stopped, but your ears were still ringing. Wanda looked around before speaking.

"Are you alright, (Y/N)? I heard screaming coming from back here," she asked

"Everything is fine, Wanda. Your brother just felt the joys of a laser on his skin," you assured her.

"But it sounded like someone was being murdered!" Wanda argued. Pietro then moaned from pain. "Piet, are you okay?"

"Yes, Wan. Everything's cool. It just hurts," Pietro replies.

"I'm sorry Pietro, but that was just on the first setting. That's probably the least it will hurt, until you learn to tolerate it," you tell Piet.

"It's fine, we can continue now. I need this off of my skin."

"If you're sure, Pietro."

"Do you want me to stay? I could get somebody else to cover the front," Wanda questioned her brother.

"No I am okay. Go do your job, you slacker," Pietro joked, trying to reassure his twin.

Wanda went back to work, and so did you. Though you could tell Pietro was still in pain, there were no more vocal reminders. When you finally turned off the laser again, you gave Pietro some care instructions to prevent any adverse reactions. After you walked back into the main room of your clinic, he brought you to the side, along with his sister.

"Listen, you two. I know you are both professionals and there are rules for these things. But, I also know that my friends can be nosy. So I want to make one thing clear. This. Never. Happened." You snickered and Pietro added on, "I'm serious."

"Of course I won't tell anybody about your appointment, other than for necessary medical reasons." Wanda nodded along to your statement. "Of course... you still have nine sessions left."

Pietro groaned, causing you to laugh again. He recovered enough to schedule another appointment with you before heading back to his apartment.

When he got home, Sam was waiting with Steve and Natasha on the couch. Natasha smirked and asked, "How was the doctor?"

"It was good I guess. I started the treatment."

"Oh really? I heard that hurts," Steve states.

"It sucked," Pietro declares. "But, there's an upside. I really like the doctor, (Y/N)."

"First names, huh? Sounds like someone's got the hots for Doctor Sexy!" Sam declares.

"Shut up, Wilson. She's just nice, and beautiful, and funny." When Pietro saw the expression his best friend gave him, he forced the dreamy smile from his face. "Don't say anything, Sam. I heard it."

"All I'm gonna say, man, is that you better not embarrass yourself in front of her," Sam said.

When Pietro wore a guilty expression, his friends immediately crowded around him. Nat wanted to help, Sam wanted juicy details for future blackmail, and Steve wanted a good laugh.

So, Pietro told them the story of his first treatment session with Doctor (Y/L/N). After cackling for a solid five minutes, they devised a plan for Piet to ask out the beautiful doctor. Let's just say that after your treatment sessions, you were happy to accept a date from Pietro.

[cherchezlafemme]

unusualish asks i am answering myself.

who’s your celebrity crush? i don’t know if i have one. i mean like i Always have a slight crush on shay mitchell but i’m not Obsessed w/ her. lol

Are you single or taken? single

rant. just do it UGH why does skyrim only allow for 250 plugins i have so many mods i want to use. also why do so many people’s mods require the XP32 skeleton which requires fore’s new idles like i don’t want to download those mods lol. i Just want some pretty clothes. vanilla skyrim is so boring i cannot believe i was able to play it when i was 16 sdkjbvfkshbvg 

do you think its ok to separate the artist from the art? i don’t know honestly.

how many accounts do you have? 4 on my main blog.

how many pairs of shoes do you have? 15 pairs of regular shoes + 3 pairs of slippers so like. 18.

opinion on… (specify to the person you’re asking to) opinion on water. it’s good! i’m drinking some right now.

how many accounts do you follow? 1,237

favorite brand of clothing? i don’t have one. they’re all bad.

name a dog Sarge

what unusual talent do you have? i’m very good at untying knots

what’s the most interesting schools gossip you’ve ever heard? i really can’t think of any. it’s been 5 years.

ever prank called a store? no

what’s your coffee order? a caramel frappuccino from mcdonalds.

what’s a question do you constantly get asked? either “why am i paying so much back to the IRS?” or “did you finish your homework?”

if you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get and where? i don’t want any tattoos. NO WAIT. temporary tattoo of a hear on my left bicep. 

google the top song from the year you were born Macarena (Bayside Boys Mix) by Los del Río

rant about your favorite musician blackbird raum you need to make your lyrics more through especially when you’re all singing different things at the same time and there’s only lyrics for like one person. i Want to know what everyone is saying!!!!

what’s your favorite teacher you’ve ever had? o fock i forgot her name but my 6th grade english teacher was so cool and nice. 

describe your blog in 3-5 words follow for more soft fallout

what’s a conspiracy you believe in? uhhhh none of them. i don’t like conspiracy theories

if you could see any concert tonight what would you choose? no concerts. 

if you could break one of your bad habits which would you choose? i keep coughing so i would change that.

can you dance? sing? no and i used to.

what’s something you can’t stop buying? stickers, men’s pants, purses. what’s the point?

crowds or small groups? small groups

how long before a trip do you pack? either the day of or months in advance.

what celebrity would you rate a PERFECT 10? shay mitchell..................

what quote or inspirational setting do you think is bs? you know that like, fake it till you make it. it’s never worked for me personally.

if you had to dye your hair an unnatural color right now, what would you choose? LIGHT PINK AND PURPLE

you can change one thing about your life right now. what are you changing? i want my thyroid back.

how old do you get mistaken for? 22? idk.

what do you think about a lot? fallout.

i’m not answering a question about harried potter.

what does home mean to you? my house.

what do you think you’d be arrested for? honestly i don’t know. 

have you ever been called down to the principals office? yes. no. kind of. it was the vice principal and he had to tell me to stop giving money to people who were mean to me.

post a picture of the outfit you would choose if you could have any outfit you wanted:

describe your aesthetic pink sweat.

answer with one of your ‘school memes’ (inside jokes you have with your class/grade) with no explanation NO HAIR!!!!!!!!

[joequesada]

I don’t post a lot on social media these days and I rarely if ever post anything personal. But I have two personal stories that I've never really told publicly that I feel I need to tell today.

About seven years ago there was a letter in my mailbox from the White House. To be clear, not just the White House, but from the newly elected President Of The United States. Wow, maybe this had something to do with his appearance in an issue of Amazing Spider-Man, but oddly enough it was addressed to my then 8 year old daughter. It seems that unbeknownst to her parents, my little girl mailed a letter to President Obama wishing him well and offering him advice as only an 8 year old could.

And he wrote back.

In the letter he thanked and commending her for passing along her thoughts and engaging in this wonderful thing we call Democracy. To this day I still tear up remembering the look on her face as she read that letter realizing that not only did the President Of The United States write back, but that she lived in a country in which this was possible.

Two years later I was sitting in my office at Marvel when my phone rings and a gentlemen claiming to be an assistant to the President Of The United States tells me that the POTUS would like to commission me to do a piece of art for him. Thinking it was a prank I told him I'd love to discuss it further but I was rushing off to a meeting and would gladly call him back. I took down his info, did a quick Google search and confirmed that the number on my caller I.D. was indeed coming from an office in the White House. Wait, what?!?

As it turned out a close friend of the President, Patrick Gaspard, who was the Director of the White House Office of Political Affairs, was leaving to take on his new role as the Director of the Democratic National Committee. Mr. Gaspard happened to be a HUGE Marvel Comics fan. We're talking a full on True Believer since childhood, and President Obama thought that a perfect parting gift for his service to the administration would be a custom piece of art featuring Mr. Gaspard, himself and several Marvel heroes standing in front of the White House and for some godforsaken reason he was asking me to draw it. I of course had to get approval from the highest levels of Marvel where it was met with nothing but enthusiasm and a big thumbs up.

Now as unlikely as all of this sounds, nothing was more surreal than when I was sending off rough sketches to White House for the President’s approval and getting back notes. I’d never been more thrilled to get art revisions in my life! Once the piece was finished inked and colored by Danny Miki and Richard Isanove respectfully, I received word that the President was thrilled with the results and Mr. Gaspard was over the moon with the final framed surprise gift.

Admittedly, for those close to me that knew about the assignment, I’d make it a point to boast as often as I could that I was now officially the very first United States Sequential Artist Laureate. Quite frankly, I don’t see why that shouldn’t be a thing.

A short time later I was at San Diego Comicon signing books at the Marvel booth when someone extended a hand for me to shake. I looked up and the gentlemen said, "Do you recognize me?" How could I not, I had spent a week drawing him. It was of course Mr. Gaspard and he wanted to thank me personally for the art and to express how much Marvel had meant to him growing up and still means to him today. Patrick and I have kept in touch ever since and while his current tenure as Ambassador to South Africa is coming to an end, I’m looking forward to catching up with him when he’s back in the States and making good on my promise to bring him on to the set of Defenders or taking him to a Mets game.

And yes, I was lucky enough to meet President Obama. like I said, I don't usually like to post things of a personal nature, but today I feel compelled to simply convey my own humble experience of having the great honor of meeting the most powerful man on the planet when he was in office. A man who was nothing but kind, appreciative and generous to me, who demonstrating a genuine love for the medium of comics and took more time than he ever needed to to express his appreciation for the work I created and the medium of comics itself. The same man who also took time to write a simple yet eloquent response in 2009 to a little girl who express love and hope, not for herself, but for her President and his future.

Godspeed President Obama, thank you for your service. I have no doubt and look forward to how you will continue to serve and change our world for the better.

Joe Quesada