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nursey: face it poindexter, you’re gonna move out by august, september tops

dex: *moves out*

nursey:

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Derek Nurse’s interracial gay parents from New York are actually Captain Holt and Kevin from Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

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NurseyDex in a nutshell

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Anyway tonights tea is that Ngozi works fucking hard to bring y’all updates and some of y’all don’t appreciate that, and can honestly get fucked. She doesn’t just shit out her art, she has to work at it. She does scripts, roughs, lineart, shading, details, for y’all to just sit back and cry that the update wasn’t long enough for you. She’s been working tirelessly since March on various projects, meanwhile y’all cried about the hiatus. Stop acting so damn entitled goddamn. Ngozi is a human being, not your comic machine

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the one thing all of us writers have in common is that none of us are fucking writing

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for the fanfic trope mash-up, how about Royal AU + Poorly Timed Confession with zimbits? p.s. love your writing xx

ROYAL AU + POORLY TIMED CONFESSIONS + ZIMBITS

This is how it starts.

“Aww, bummer,” Chowder says, face buried in his phone as Bitty puts the finishing touches on a custard tart for his advisor’s birthday. “Canada’s King died.”

“Canada still has royalty?” 

“Not anymore,” Dex chirps.

“It’s not like he had any power,” Nursey wanders in and kicks out a chair beside Dex. “Just a figurehead. It’s all for show. Trudeau is still in charge.”

“It says they don’t know who the heir is — that’s kinda cool right? Someone’s walking around like a secret prince or something.”

“Well at the very least we’ll be in for some interesting media coverage,” Bitty adds. “’Hunt for the Secret Royal’ will be all we hear about for weeks.”

“Bitty,” Chowder spins in his chair and waves to get his attention. “You think Jack knows anything about this? He’s a history buff, I bet he’s all over it.”

“You know, I’ll have to ask him when he gets back from Vancouver,” Bitty offers, placing the last violet garnish and snapping a photo after he closes the push notification regarding the passing of ‘Canada’s beloved monarch, Laurent IV’.

Much later, Bitty will look back and think about how he really needs to pay more attention to current events.

The knocks come quickly, loud and forceful enough that Chowder rouses from the sofa. 

“—Whasat?”

Dex is already at the door, peering through the peephole warily.

“They look like Feds,” Nursey comments, watching from the kitchen. “They’re finally coming for you, Poindexter.”

“Fuck off, they’re Canadian Feds,” Dex corrects, face pressed against the door. “They’re wearing little maple leaf pins.”

“They invaded New England and they’re just cleaning up the ones they missed —“

“Is someone getting arrested?” Ollie comes running down the stairs behind Wicks.

“Probably if we don’t open the door.”

“Don’t open it! We don’t know what they want!”

“What are y’all hollering about, now?” Bitty calls down the stairs.

“We’re going to prison,” Dex calls back, recoiling from another round of hard knocks.

“You know we can hear you,” comes a muffled voice through the door. “We’re looking for Eric Richard Bittle? Is he here?”

“Definitely Canadian.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, shit, Bits,” Chowder laments. “Go hide they’re gonna arrest you!”

“No, we aren’t,” says the voice again. “We’re not arresting anyone.”

“Real convincing,” Dex chides.

“Look, this is not how we normally do this, okay? Please open the door, it’s a matter of national security.”

“Which nation? Show me a badge.”

The Haus falls silent while Dex apparently gets his answer.

“Well?”

Dex steps back and looks up at Bitty, who is still hovering by the stairs in his shorts and a Falconers’ championship tee.

“You might want to put on pants, Cap. Some nice Canadians with guns want to talk to you.”

Three minutes later Bitty is fully clothed when they open the door on two tall, suited men with earpieces.

“I’m Agent Harper, this is Agent Camden,” the first man introduces, then gestures to his clearly exhausted partner. “We’re here to speak with Eric Richard Bittle.”

“You’re speaking to him,” Bitty says cautiously. “What can I help you gentleman with?”

The two explain they’re agents of the Canadian government meant to bring Eric into protective custody, though they refuse to elaborate on exactly why.

“This is shady as hell, you can’t just take him to Canada,” Chowder stage whispers, and Camden sighs outright.

“We can’t say anything else because we were asked not to reveal details until you’re safely on Canadian soil. It’s a direct request from the Family.””

“The mob?” Wicks gasps.

“Oh, my god,” Harper drops his head. “Americans. No, the Royal Family.”

Bitty may not be the most intelligent person at Samwell — that title goes to the fourteen-year-old in his senior-level Calculus class — but he’s pretty darn sharp and his mama taught him to read between the lines better than anyone.

He reaches up and grips the ring hiding on a chain beneath his shirt.

“Can I call Jack real quick? I just need to grab my phone,” Bitty asks, already rising to retreat to his room when Camden holds up a hand.

“No need, we can pass along any messages.”

There it is, the confirmation Bitty was looking for.

From out of seemingly nowhere another Agent comes down the stairs with a box of Eric’s possessions, his laptop dangling several cords from the side, and he can only assume his phone is stashed in there among the mess.

“Hey! You can’t just —“

“You’ll get them back once we’ve determined there’s no evidence of tampering. We need you to surrender anything with an internet or bluetooth connection. External hard drives, etc. It’s a matter of national security.”

“Just so we’re clear,” Nursey interrupts, recording everything on his own phone, “We’re talking ‘Canadian’ national security.”

“What do you want with Bitty?” Chowder pressures.

“To keep him safe,” Camden insists again.

“Hold on!” 

A woman in a blue pantsuit comes bounding up the porch steps and in through the front door, waving at Harper to stop before running over, holding out her phone. 

“Here, he wants to talk to the Consor – oh,” she stops, seeing the rest of the people in the room. “Um, the… Bittle?”

“Right.” Bitty warily takes the phone and says, “Hello?”

“Bits!“

The relief Bitty feels is so palpable he thinks like his legs might give out.

“Oh, God, Jack? Honey! What’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry, we just landed and service is a nightmare— I’m fine, listen, trust me, I’ll explain everything once you get to Montreal. This is just complicated and we’re still trying to work out the details – You can trust the people we sent.”

“You mean the men in black stealing my stuff? Jack, they took my phone.”

“I’ll make them get you a new one. Just get here and I promise everything will be okay.”

There’s a rustling on Jack’s end and suddenly Bitty can hear Bob.

“Eric? Son, listen, some things have come up and I believe it would be, ah, safer to have you in Montreal for the announcement —”

“Bob,” Bitty interrupts, not missing the flash of panic on the blue-suited woman’s face. “Real quick question, are you the new King of Canada?”

The agents around Bitty slow to a stop and on the other end of the line Bob makes a noncommittal sound that’s the verbal equivalent of a shrug.

“Oh, good lord,” Bitty sighs. “Please put Jack back on.”

Some more shuffling and, “Bits?”

“Am I being kidnapped because your father is the secret heir to the Canadian monarchy?”

Jack is silent for a beat and Bitty fights the urge to panic.

“Bud, you’re not being kidnapped because Papa is the secret heir. You’re being kidnapped because ‘I’ am.”

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My fortune cookie wants me to write fanfic

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me: i’m going to write today!!

also me:

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Current mood.

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i think this is funny?

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tag yourself i’m euah

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This meme is funny so I decided to try it…