#and uh. yeah it's probably obvious who it is by the tag i chose lmao.

[nis-si-hellhole]

...what if i had another re f/o. not just a hypothetical question.

[treasure-exo]

11 question tag

I wasn’t tagged by @oh-beyond and @e-xing(to my main @susie2110) for the 11 questions so here’s comes the trouble lol..

Rules: Answer 11 questions from the person who tagged you and make another 11 questions for the people you tag.

Oh-beyond’s questions

Scenario: You find yourself with your bias in an elevator that breaks down…

Ok lol I was once trapped in an elevator alone, not with someone and I was dumbfounded and didn’t even screamed for help and panicked but thank god some passerby saw the elevator wasn’t working properly and called for help.. so probably let’s see if I can survive or not...

1. He is a whiny baby… what do you do? How do you act around him?

I would first try to calm myself and then help him calm down if I calmed down in the first place which I probably would take time. (But as I’ll see Baekhyun’s fantastic smile after I would melt and forget every possible thing on this planet so I will probably help him and make it happen.)

2. Do you act around him like you know him or like you don’t?

I would try to pretend but I can’t control my feelings for so long so he would probably notice and than I would tell him I already know. So boring I know.

3. There is an obvious language barrier… do you try talk to him in his language (google translate, etc…) ? Or do you go for English and he can figure it out himself?

I somewhat know Korean yeah so I’ll try if he can understand my broken Korean otherwise I’ll use google translate because probably he would not get my English and accent lmao.

4. He starts crying… do you decide unstanning him? Or do you lend your shoulder to cry on?

I WOULD NOT UNSTAN HIM... ok lol but instead I’ll get to know what is wrong and try to solve the matter amd make him stop crying. So obviously lend my shoulder to cry on and listen to him rant.

5. He finally faints in your lap… do you take advantage? You stare? You touch his eyelashes to make sure they are real? His cheeks? Anything else?

Uh... I would not take any advantage. I would probably stare at him and adore him and his beauty because I know he’s beautiful lmao and probably ruffle or just touch his hair (I totally have a hair kink here) because they are so soft and touch his skin so pure. But other than this I would seriously try to make him wake up because fainting is scary.

6. He regains consciousness and he asks you if you’ve touched him… would you be honest?

Yes.. I would honestly tell him I touched his hair and skin to check if it’s not a dream and it’s really happening with some hesitation surely.

7. Do you try making him laugh? Or you act all uninterested to create a mysterious aura so he gets curious? What is your tactic?

I will probably like to create a mysterious aura because I love mysteries and creating or writing them is my hobby. So I’ll show some of my tricks to show I’m interested but by face remain neutral to confuse him(if it would work which I probably thinks not) and finally make an atmosphere where he’s frustrated and ask me anything anyway.

8. If you decide on telling you stan him. What would be your questions to him? Would you admit he’s your bias or make him jealous telling him you like a different member?

I’ll try make him jealous by telling him I stan some other person by appreciating the other and to the point where he’s completely jealous and frustrated but I’ll eventually laugh and tells him that I joked and he’s the person who I stan and appreciate more.

9. If you act like you don’t know him, would you still try to impress him?

Yes for sure. Definitely.

10. You are taken… if he asks you if you have a significant other… would you lie?

Hmmm...taken? By Byun Baekhyun? Yes I’ll tell him I’m taken by you and would not at all lie about the matter ;)

11. The lights of the elevator go off and he’s scared and gets too close and his hands are too handsy… would you stop him? Or…?

Well I’ll be the first one to hold his hand to make sure someone is still there with me. So lmao other than that I’ll stop him.

E-xing’s questions

1. If you could ask your bias for just one thing, what would you request?

Marry me!!!

2. It’s been a hard day for you. All you can think about is all the hardships you have going on. You’re going home in a rush, looking forward to chill for a while. There’s someone on the street hurrying somewhere, just like you are.Suddenly you bump your shoulder into a stranger. It turns out to be your bias. What will happen next? How do you react? Do you say something? 

I would die at that moment but after recovered my fangirling mode will never put on. But as we both are in a hurry I’ll not waste his time further than just ask for a photo or autograph.

3. Would you rather go to an EXO concert or spend 2 hours with your bias? Why?

Spend 2 hours with my bias beacuse l will get to know him in general and if possible he might remember me and considers me a faifthful(pervert) fan of his. lmao.

4. You have the opportunity to go to Seoul, SK. Would you try to fit in with the civilians or would you visit tourist attractions solely? 

I would love to see tourist attractions with getting to know their culture and people and if possible try to make friends there too.

5. While you’re there, you’re on your way to a restaurant. You’re dressed all nice, ready to feel alive for the night. Your friends texted you the address but you get lost. You stop a random person on the street asking for directions, but it’s your bias! Do you stutter? Do you flirt? Do you ask for a selca? Do you invite him along, as he helps you nicely and seems like a genuinely nice person? Do you pretend, do all this without revealing that he’s your bias?

I’m a libra and I can’t help but whatever i try to say always comes out in a way as if i’m flirting lol so yeah. Yep I’ll ask him for a selfie and also invite him if he’s free beacuse he’s Byun Baekhyun the irresistible. who would not I doubt...

6. You’re a journalist and your boss tells you that your next interview for the magazine is with EXO. Do you still take the task even though you stan the group or do you pass it for someone else who wouldn’t get biased while asking some questions? What do you do? Are you professional or do you let the fangirl inside take over?

I’ll still do that interview and while asking questions despite me being professional my inner fangirling will definitely comes out evetually and after the interview i might ask a question or two of mine. lol.

7. You’re talking to a guy online for weeks. Eventually you meet up in a public space but you see that he is your bias! Are you upset he lied about who he was or do you get over it and enjoy the rest of the date? 

Totally not. I would be infact happy and surprized that the guy turned out to be my bias. so the date would probably go on as expected and I’ll enjoy.

8. What song do you associate with your bias? Why?

His own song - Beautiful(Baekhyun) because have you ever seen the lyrics? I mean it perfectly defines how I fell for him. Yes, his smile melts me and my heart flutters while he sings. Just listen to that song and his angelic voice. I’m sure you’ll fall for him too.

9. If it were to chose between your bias and your bias wrecker for a relationship, who would you end up with? Or would you go for another member?

Obviously my bias.

10. If you could live with a member for a month while in Seoul, who would you chose? Like in a flat. You’d have to share a flat.

flat? Is it an apartment? I’m sorry I didn’t get it and had to search. I would pick Baekhyun. I’m sorry but I love him with every atom of my body.

11. What makes your bias so special to you? How did he touched your heart and why did you chose him?

Good question. I mean I dont remember but his smile, his voice, his playfulness, his eyes, his genuine gestures. I mean i hated someone being goofy but he makes it seem cute, his dorky nature. but yet sometimes him being serious I love seeing his that side too. I can’t explain but for the very first time I chose him because of his voice in what is love.

Now, my questions:

They will probably be silly and idk what i should ask.

1. What do your bias do(any particular act, aegyo etc.) that makes you extremely happy?

2. Decribe your bias in three words.

3. You are in a relationship with your bias and that he forgets the date when both of you first met? also, your birthday.. what will you do? let it go? scold him?

4. If a genie appears and grants you three wishes of what you want from/for/with your bias. what would it will be?

5. If you got to spend a day as any disney princess with your bias as the prince of the particular tale. who would you be and what will you do?

6. You and your bias are on a date and suddenly he makes some clumsy mistake (spilling his drink on your dress etc.) what will be your reaction? will you leave or stay?

7. You wakes up suddenly and realizes that the group your bias is in was just a group in your dream and no such group exists in real life. but when you were out a day and suddenly sees a person who looks exactly like your bias. Would you approach him? let him go? your reaction?

8. You have millions of dollars in your bank account and you want to buy your bias a single thing. what will it be?

9. A song you like the most which your bias sang?

10. Do you like when your bias apply their significant makeup? or like them without makeup? A photo of best makeup look your bias ever had.

11. The last photo of your bias you saved in your phone.

Idk who to tag... lol because I’m scared. I may have a considerable number of mutuals but I don’t talk with most of them so I’ll tag those to whom I for even once talked or I know them at least. I’ll tag @heehunhan17 @technicallymilkshakes @fluffyyeollie @byunparks

[thenarcolepticone]

Would You Like Fries With That?

by TheNarcolepticOne

(AO3) (FF.net)

Summary: Without any other alternative for a lunch break, Arthur decides to settle for McDonald's; his least favourite establishment in proximity to work. But along the way, a rather odd foreigner decides to take some part of the stage too. Fate seems to always have it that way.

A/N: I’m going to try and transfer some of these fics to Tumblr. Maybe people can tell me later about some prompts they want me to try lol. Let me know! Warnings: Rated T, language, and sexual concepts. Nothing outta the ordinary gay fluff lmao

Arthur was late. He hated being late, and he hated leaving bad impressions on people. The concept of not knowing when he might arrive at a specific location at a specific time just bothered him enough to make his chest ache, and thus, his dislike for tardiness. But it couldn’t be helped. From the time that he had started on his paperwork last night, to the early morning memory of seeing the digital clock read 3:39AM before he dozed off; it made it an understandable mental mistake. But a mistake like that usually bargained his job, and his paycheck by extension. He might not be able to afford pressing down on the gas pedal to an almost horizontal position if he lost it today. Though, he believed it best not worry about it now.

The radio was off; it was a distraction to his focused driving. He honked a man for being unbelievably slow in accelerating after the light had turned green. He barely saw the hand of the man he passed (probably giving him the middle-finger) out his window before he overtook him. And a string of curses left his lips as he continued to tailgate another car, and promptly turning left so hard that his Alfasud nearly tilted on its side.

Arthur practically sped down the straight path leading to his building; able to maneuver the traffic with practiced skill (though it was more likely from experiencing lateness more than he’d like to admit). His car had barely fit between the two lines of space provided. Arthur wasted no energy wanting to fix it as he stumbled into the building with only four minutes to spare.

The next round of orders began to start up as Alfred adjusted the black hat with the famous M on his head, along with the headset for listening to the drive-in orders from outside. He sighed, getting to his station as he started to clean it up a bit. Another six hours of standing in one place and taking the same orders every time. Not that he really found it bothersome, however. He did get paid, and generously too. The manager seemed to have an interest in his rather peppy personality, to which he took as both a compliment and another reason why he was always asked to take longer shifts than his co-workers.

Days like this usually stacked on him, though. Homework and housework had to be put on hold for those six hours, and it usually didn’t mean any good news for him later when his mother came home with a tired look, but fuming rage. At least he was doing something productive, or else his (new) phone would get confiscated.

Alfred, despite being here for 2 months now, had just barely moved to England and was currently waiting for the start of the academic year to begin at the University of London. Getting into a foreign institution was difficult; what with the sudden separation of his parents and his mother’s hasty decision to return to where she was raised. But he was able to make it just fine, albeit being technically alone and friendless until then. It didn’t really let it get to him, and instead chose to think positive by smiling every day like the happy meals he was meant to advertise.

He was a little later than normal to come to work. The busy traffic and the rush of people trying to get to their offices by their strict time quota was a familiar battle he had to fight every day. The only difference was that by the time they got to work, the entire memory of the ordeal would go away instantly until the next rush hour for lunch and the third one on the way home.

Conversely for Alfred; it was an unending cycle of less than happy customers demanding specific orders from the menu all day every day. From the morning people who want to buy a quick breakfast at Mickey D’s, to the asswipes who yell at him because his co-worker forgot the mustard.

It was jumble for everyone on board.

The shift thankfully didn’t start until fifteen minutes later. His lunch break was only so short. Alfred propped his elbow on the counter, staring out through the small window with a strong sense of irritation.

Some shitty excuse for a driver wanted to ruin his morning by not even giving him a chance to move forward even an inch before the light switched. The American didn’t feel the need to dwell on those thoughts for long, but he often wanted to vent his stresses privately some of the time. His happy-go-lucky façade couldn’t always keep itself up.

Alfred knew afternoons weren’t always his favorite type of the day. But he would get off soon enough. The stench of burgers seemed to always fill his nose and he was, lord forbid it, actually getting tired of the stench.

Ugh. He probably needed to purge himself later by buying another Big Mac on the go.

“Are you doing okay, Alfred?”

The blonde’s head turned. Before him stood a kind man, gentle with the way he spoke but with a certain independence that was admirable even to Alfred. He didn’t speak much, but only if he was concerned for a friend.

“Yeah, Toris,” he sighed. “Just a bit tired. And a little bit of road rage left in me. Nothing bad, I swear.”

The other shifted in his step.

“Well…I suppose. You’re still getting used to it here, anyway. You mentioned you lived in rural area before coming here. It’s a big change. I thought m-maybe I might relate a little, being a foreigner too…”

Alfred rose his eyebrows. His smile went back to full blast as he pat Toris on the back. It was rough enough to make him stumble.

“Thanks for worrying about me, man. I feel fine. Don’t sweat it.”

With a final glance over in his station, he stood there, ready to take the orders. The monitor revealed a familiar looking car in the line, and Alfred turned the headset on.

Arthur yawned, staring ahead as he waited for the next car to finish their order. McDonald’s wasn’t a place that he would rather prefer to eat. His preferences usually consisted of sit in, full course dining restaurants with a little bit of class and some variation with the foods; not really some branch-extended business that was only there for the sake of profit. But alas, the other cafés were particularly full and this was the only option near enough to his workplace without much concern with the distance.

The car ahead finally moved forward, and he pushed down his parking brake and accelerated slightly to align himself with the large walkie. He rolled down his window with some effort before he leaned out enough for the man to hear him.

“Hi! Welcome to McDonald’s! What can I get started for you?”

Arthur took a moment to ponder the voice. American. He blinked, uneasy at the fact that he almost assumed that he was in the States for a few seconds.

“Uh, hello,” he greeted rather offhandedly. “I’d like a cheeseburger, please. No pickles or condiments. And a drink as well. Sweet iced tea, if you have it.”

There was a moment of silence as the order began to go through. But before the actual price was announced, a different response came out instead.

“Are you sure that’s it, sir?”

“I’m positive I know what I want, yes.”

“No…lettuce? Or tomatoes?”

“I probably would have mentioned that in my order, sir,” he said, getting slightly annoyed with the questions. Was this business really just bent on getting his money on basic vegetables? “Now may I please proceed?”

“Uh, sure,” he said awkwardly before stating the price. “I’ll be at the window.”

Without so much as a hasty ‘thank you’, he put his upper frame back inside his car and left his window open as he drove to the window.

By the time he got halfway there, he heard the same voice, asking the car behind him about his order. A fast worker, no doubt. He began to feel the weight of his exasperation lift by a fraction. Despite the man’s obvious rookie-like style of work, at least it was something. Arthur briefly wished he could go back on his years before attending London University and work like the cashier was doing instead of the relaxing he did back then.

He was a first-year graduate student now. There really wasn’t any need to dwindle on the past.

The windows realigned again, and Arthur yanked up the parking brake before looking to the employee.

And his heart thumped.

The individual in question wasn’t quite ready to talk to Arthur but was instead typing the orders onto a monitor. Arthur noticed the way his black polo seemed to hug his body in the right places, revealing to be what looked like a well-preserved athlete’s physique. It was hard to find those types in the autumn. Even his face appeared more foreign than he expected. Sure, the man was blonde like him. Except hearing his voice alongside actually looking at the physical body made it all the more different.

It screamed American.

And he swallowed.

What a bloke.

Eventually, the other got off of the headset and walked to the window, smiling as he leaned down (almost casually) to Arthur’s height.

His car wasn’t elevated, so it made some sense why he was doing it. Although he actually believed that his Alfasud was a piece of junk, perhaps it had some use after all.

He had a good view of his cashier.

“Hi,” the American greeted again. “Cash, credit or debit?”

Arthur cleared his throat, looking back to his empty seat and grabbing his wallet.

“Cash.”

For a moment, the stare of the attractive man was rather embarrassing as he sifted through his wallet. He pulled out two, five-pound notes and handed it to him. From this action, he was able to get a name from the name tag he wore.

Alfred F. Jones.

He couldn’t have gotten any more American than he already was.

Alfred took the money, putting it in the register before handing back the change.

“Alright. Excuse me a moment. I’ll be back with your order.”

Arthur put the extra change back in his wallet before sighing.

Christ. He thought his hormones were at a standstill after Francis. And it just resurfaced as quick as a rabbit’s birth.

Alfred returned soon enough, and with the paper bag. Arthur retrieved it, putting it into his lap and checking the food to make sure it was right. It was.

“Thank you,” said Arthur without looking at him. He feared if he did, he would be blushing a lot more obviously than he was now. Arthur set the food right next to his wallet on the empty seat. He was about to release the parking brake, but not before Alfred spoke up again.

“Would you like fries with that?”

The Englishman glanced up.

“…since you’re asking…but make it quick.”

Alfred looked as the man drove off while he waited for the next in line. Sometimes, people didn’t appreciate this establishment like they should. And Alfred wanted to get it a point to get as many snobby Englishmen to try and taste the burgers first before saying it stinks. He was glad he was able to convince the last customer otherwise.

Before he could even try and turn back to the monitor, he just caught the sight of the recent car driving away.

On its bumper was the coat of arms for the University of London. It made itself familiar in two ways. The first with its obvious relevance to him. The second being that it was the same asshole who decided to honk him.

The cutest asshole he had ever laid eyes on.

And he had just gotten him extra fries for being such an asshole.

It made him feel like an asshole.

…but fuck that.

He hoped he’d stick around longer tomorrow.

[they-thember]

In Which Mr. Krupp’s Secret Superpowers Aren’t Quite So Secret

( @guiltyhipster and @thatanimationgirl because we’re writing and tagging friends!!) hey y’all remember when I said I wrote CU fanfiction like five months ago. uh. here it is!! I mostly wrote it as a self-indulgent thing because I had no clue there would actually like…be a fandom!! So it’s not my best work lol I just wanted to get my ideas out on paper. 

In this, our favorite terrible principal comes down with a cold, and it turns out that Captain Underpants’ powers begin to leak through while he’s in this miserable state…I am a sad writer’s soul and I would totally love comments if you wanted to give them but totally don’t feel obligated yo!! (ALSO I wrote this when I knew that Miss Anthrope would be Mr. Krupp’s love interest, but I DIDN’T know that she was the lunch lady now so like…she’s the secretary in this lmao)

George and Harold were terribly bright children who just happened to also be terribly, terribly naughty. They never caused any harm, of course, unless one would think that placing ketchup packets beneath toilet seats, replacing the American flag in their classroom with a pair of XXL underwear, and rearranging the letters on the lunchroom bulletin board so it would read “FRIDAY’S LUNCH WILL BE: SWEATY BRAS”, was harmful.

And Principal Krupp definitely considered all those things harmful….

And thus, George and Harold found themselves in detention quite frequently. You would think that he would show a little bit of gratitude to George and Harold for keeping his miserable life interesting. And also, of course, for continuously assisting Mr. Krupp in saving the world.

Though, they couldn’t exactly expect his thanks for that last bit. Mainly because Mr. Krupp didn’t know about it.

“Do you ever think that things might go a bit easier for us if we told Mr. Krupp that he’s Captain Underpants?” Harold asked one cloudy afternoon in after-school detention as he doodled in his sketch book, completely ignoring the pages of math homework in the corner of his desk.

George rose an eyebrow, not even looking up from the story ideas he was jotting down on the page where his English essay ought to be. “So he can expel us for hypnotizing him into believing he’s a superhero?”

“…Okay, yeah, not the best idea.”

“Not the best idea,” George agreed with a teasing grin, giving his best friend’s shoulder a harmless shove. “Besides, he’d use his powers to fly up to our treehouse and make sure we’re doing our homework.”

Harold couldn’t help a snort of laughter. “And he’d use his super strength to sit on us!”

“And use his super vision to peek into Miss Anthrope’s bedroom window!” George added, and the boys were soon giggling madly, hands clamped over their mouths.

“And he would use his authority as the principal to give you brats another two days of detention!”

Harold and George paled and slowly turned to find Mr. Krupp glowering at them from the detention room doorway, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl etched into his face (which was usually just as unpleasant to begin with). The boys shared a horrified look, wondering exactly how much of the conversation their principal had overheard. He couldn’t have heard them mentioning his status as Piqua, Ohio’s local superhero?

Clearly not. He would be far angrier than this. This here was Mr. Krupp’s usual ‘angry’ setting—perhaps the most overused emotion he had, but nevertheless, it was better than the blind rage that the boys knew would come about if he had overheard the beginning of that conversation.

Mr. Krupp stormed into the room, snatching up Harold’s sketch book before the fourth-grader could protect it. He grumbled to himself as he ripped out the newest page, and Harold clutched at the metaphorical rip in his own heart. “I suppose you boys are making your ridiculous comics rather than doing your homework?”

“Th-This is our homework!” George lied quickly before Mr. Krupp could reach for his own notebook of story ideas.

“Is it, now?” their principal snorted in disbelief. “For which class, then?”

“Art!” Harold exclaimed at the same time that George said “English!”

“Ha!” Mr. Krupp snickered, jabbing a finger in Harold’s horrified face. “Art! As if we would offer that here! You miserable little hobgoblins are creative enough as it is! Now, I’m going to take this sketch book of yours and lock it up in my desk until—”

“Benny?” came the nasally voice of the school secretary over the PA system in the classroom. “You’re still in Room 201, aren’t you?”

Mr. Krupp flushed and cleared his throat. “Yes, Miss Anthrope, and the brats in detention are, too!” he called up to the receiver.

“Oh! Well, excuse me, sir—” The way his obvious love interest called him ‘sir’ had George and Harold shuddering, their faces scrunched in disgust. “–But there’s a…bit of a situation.”

“Can’t it wait?” Mr. Krupp growled, still glaring daggers to George and Harold. 

“Well….you see, there’s a flaming giant robot from space heading for the school! It just ate the gym teacher!”

Mr. Krupp’s toupee nearly tumbled off his head as he scrambled out the classroom door. “WHAT!? His family will sue us for sure! We’ll never get those holiday bonuses!” And with that, he was gone, footsteps thundering down the hall as he rushed to avoid this lawsuit.

George and Harold exchanged a wary look before pouncing out of their chairs. “Oh no!” Harold cried, running faster than he ever had in gym class. The boys bolted down the hallway in search of their principal, knowing that the school–and perhaps the world–needed Captain Underpants far more than it did Mr. Krupp.  

“Here we go again!” George’s voice echoed down the hall, followed by an exclamation from their principal (“Hey! Just because the school is under attack doesn’t mean you get to leave detention, bubs!”) and a loud snap of Harold’s fingers.

~~

As far as adventures went….this one was a bit dull.

Captain Underpants was more than ready to take on the flaming robot from outer space, of course. Once Harold snapped his fingers, the sound turned Mr. Krupp into his cheery alter ego, as per usual, and the hero was flying out the door in seconds. Fortunately, the dark clouds rumbling overhead chose that time to unleash a downpour. The flaming robot, clearly, was not expecting rain in Earth’s forecast so soon after arriving to wreak havoc. It promptly collapsed, the flames extinguishing in seconds. Captain Underpants grinned victoriously, hands placed on his hips in triumph. This only lasted momentarily before the rain had the hero’s head completely soaked. Only a minor setback for most heroes, perhaps, but Captain Underpants was much like the damaged robot from space in that water was his only weakness. In seconds, Captain Underpants was Mr. Krupp once more. The school principal barely had time to blink in surprise at being up so high before he was, unfortunately, plummeting back to earth, screaming in horror all the while.

Even more unfortunate was the gym teacher hurrying out of the robot’s broken chest plate, obviously unharmed. George and Harold would have expressed more disappointment if they weren’t screaming and scrambling with their arms outstretched, more than prepared to try to save their principal. Despite their small size and naughty tendencies, George and Harold really were very warm-hearted children, if not a bit slow to realize that trying to catch the plummeting man would only result in massive injury for them.

Thankfully, Mr. Krupp landed in the massive oak tree outside of the school. George and Harold skid to a stop and sighed in relief while their principal screamed and swore from the branches of the tree that had him tangled. They could have just left– after all, he was still alive, wasn’t he?— but the fourth graders couldn’t bring themselves to do so.

“You alright, Mr. Krupp?” George called, hands cupped around his mouth.

“What would POSSIBLY make you think that I’m ALRIGHT!?” he growled from the tangle of tree branches. The principal was still in nothing but his underwear and cape, shivering irritably as the leaves did little in protecting him from the rain. “Now get back to detention, like I ORDERED YOU TO!”

“Fine…” Harold frowned, fists balled at his sides as he started back into the school with George. “You know, if he was nicer, I would probably tell him that he can just fly down. But he can figure out how to get down on his own…Maybe Miss Anthrope will have to call the fire department to get him down like a cat.”

“I sure feel bad for the firemen…” George shuddered. “Let’s just go home, since Mr. Krupp’s not here to make sure we stay in detention….”

Harold grinned and hurried down the hallway to their locker. “Yeah! My mom’s making grilled cheese. We can take them up to the treehouse and watch a movie!”

“But, wait!” George frowned. “Shouldn’t we do our homework first?”

The boys stared at each other before bursting into laughter. They grabbed their backpacks and umbrella before starting out the door. And with that, they forgot about their angry principal screaming from the top of the oak, and they forgot about the (unfortunately) alive gym teacher, and they forgot about the robot rusting in the rain. In fact, they didn’t think twice about their nearly-exciting adventure until the next day when they were walking to school.

“That’s….weird,” George noted with a cocked eyebrow as they walked past Mr. Krupp’s house. The irritable man had a strangely pleasant garden, and at the edge of the yard was his mailbox, bent awkwardly to one side.

“So, someone hit it with a bat. I’d probably do that, too, if he wouldn’t suspect us right away,” Harold shrugged, before quirking his head when he got a good look at Mr. Krupp’s front door. It was shut, but angled a bit oddly at the doorknob. Like somebody had yanked on the door to a dollhouse and it bent. “Maybe this was all…the storm?”

“There was only just a bit of rain yesterday….” George frowned. They reached the school, noting dozens of children playing on the massive empty corpse of the robot. Of course the school wouldn’t remove it. That cost money that could have been going to terrible field trips and massages for the teachers. 

The boys turned the corner, approaching the parking lot of their school. Thoughts of bent mailboxes and crooked doors fled their minds with ease as they hurried for the playground, only slowing when they saw Mr. Krupp emerge from his car. “Well, I guess he got down from that tree at some point….” Harold murmured to George.

“He looks kind of…awful,” George decided on after a moment, his brow knit with concern.

“Uh, yeah, and you say that as if he’s not awful every day of our lives.”

Mr. Krupp grumbled to himself as he rose from the driver’s seat of the car, stalling as he held onto the top of the door. His irritated expression softened, only for his brows to knit together a moment later. He rose a curled knuckle to his nose while the other hand began to close the car door. “GhiihhHHH–! ShHEEUUHH!!”

George and Harold were barely able to choke back twin screams when the car door seemed to be sucked into the side of the vehicle with the force of Mr. Krupp’s slam. It looked like another car had crashed into it, for how battered it was now. Meanwhile, the window of the neighboring car promptly cracked with a spiderweb break with Mr. Krupp’s fierce expulsion.

The principal blinked dazedly, not noticing the damage around him as his sights locked on George and Harold. His pudgy nose crinkled with a sniffle before he scowled. “And what do you think you two are staring at!?” he snarled, turning to storm into the school without a second glance.

“….George,” Harold croaked after a moment, staring at the aftermath before them. “Did you just see—”

“Yeah. Yeah, man, I saw it…” George murmured, swallowing as panic raced through his mind.

“Mr. Krupp–”

“Yeah.”

“He must have caught a—”

“Uh-huh.”

“And his powers–?”

“I know!”

“The door and the mailbox–?”

“Probably!”

“What can we–?”

“I don’t know!” George exclaimed, clutching his best friend by the shoulders. “I didn’t think he could use his powers when he’s not Captain Underpants! H-He doesn’t KNOW he has powers!”

“Well, I-I guess sneezing isn’t exactly something he can control….” Harold shrugged, running a hand nervously through his mess of blonde hair. “So his powers must not be controllable when he’s Mr. Krupp, either…”

George groaned and hurried for the school along with Harold. “So are we just going to be chasing him around like we were before he got powers? Make sure he doesn’t kill himself?”

“HihhHHH–!” they heard from down the empty hallway.

“Or anyone else,” Harold swallowed, skidding to a stop outside of the admissions office.

“IGGHSEEUUUHH!!”

Not hearing any alarming sounds following that sneeze, George and Harold peeked into the office. Miss Anthrope sat at her desk, fanning her face as Mr. Krupp trudged into his office. Her glasses were gone, and her hair resembled a mess of wind-blown leaves. “Gesundheit, Benny…” she said dazedly, blinking in surprise. “Wh-Why don’t I get you some tissues?”

“I’m fine…” Mr. Krupp grumbled as he thoroughly scrubbed the underside of his itching, reddening nose. His nostrils flared ticklishly, and George and Harold tensed in preparation. They watched cautiously as Mr. Krupp’s breath snagged unevenly, but the need to sneeze soon evaded him, and he released a shaky sigh. “Ughh…” he grumbled as he rubbed his nose once more, clearly not making the connection that the movement would just tickle him further. 

“It sounds like you have a cold! Maybe I ought to warm you up after school…”

George and Harold shuddered and slipped back out fully into the hallway. “I mean, at least it’s not earth-shattering every time…” George tried to lighten the situation.

“Uh, yeah, but it could also be WORSE than earth-shattering…” Harold noted.

George nodded as the first bell of the day rang. They boys hurried off to class, backpacks clutched in their hands. “We just have to keep an eye on him! That’ll be easy enough!”

It was far from easy, really.

~~

“Hey! Pay attention!” Melvin Sneedly hissed to George and Harold, giving the both of them a poke with his pencil.

“Melvin! Shut up!” Harold huffed, snatching the pencil from Melvin as he and George continued to peer into the hallway, eyes trained on the admissions office.

“This will be on a test!”

“Then you better pay attention!” George said with a roll of his eyes, and he and Harold immediately jumped when a booming sneeze from Mr. Krupp echoed down the hallway. The two boys tensed and listened. They waited a moment before sighing with relief. Maybe nothing happened?

An instant later, shouts were heard from the hall as the water fountain in the office had, mysteriously, been dislocated from the wall.

“You’re up to something…” their nerdy nemesis growled, adjusting his glasses in a menacing way that only Melvin could achieve.

“Melvin!” Miss Ribble hummed pleasantly, giving his desk a tap with her ruler. “Pay attention, dear, or you won’t get cookies after class!”

“But– they were–!” Melvin hurried to explain, jabbing his finger at George and Harold.

“He’s distracting us, Miss Ribble!” George said, blinking innocently up to their teacher.

“We’re just trying to concentrate,” Harold added, though he couldn’t exactly say what they were supposed to be concentrating on.

“They’re lying!” Melvin exclaimed shrilly, face going red with frustration as he clenched his tiny fists. “They weren’t paying attention. THEY were distracting ME!”

“Well! We can’t have George and Harold being a distraction, again, now can we?”

The best friends stiffened nervously while Melvin grinned ear to ear. The three of them turned to find Mr. Krupp glowering in the doorway, just as he had found George and Harold the day before. Their principal had dark rings beneath his eyes, and his reddened, cold-ridden nose just looked ready to wreak further havoc. “You two! In my office, now!” he barked hoarsely. 

George and Harold exchanged a fearful look. Normally they would be defending their stance in regards to Melvin being the jerk out of all of them, but the two friends seemed to have the same idea as they rose, following after Mr. Krupp. They ignored Melvin’s snickering, simply following silently behind their principal.

“Can’t seem to go a day without misbehaving, hmm?” Mr. Krupp grunted hoarsely before stopping in his tracks.

George and Harold bumped into his back, stumbling once they realized he wasn’t moving. Mr. Krupp brought his nose into the crook of his elbow, taking in a shuddering gasp of breath. “HIhh–!! HIhh–HIhhHHH….”

“Oh, no!” Harold squeaked, clutching George’s arm.

“Oh, no!” George gasped as well, though his eyes were trained on the ground.  Mr. Krupp slowly began to rise from the floor, unaware of his added height as he struggled with the impending sneeze. He floated steadily upward, chest shuddering with more and more hitching breaths as he went, hovering just as Captain Underpants might.

To make matters worse, the bell rang to dismiss the students to their next class.

At once, George and Harold grabbed the legs of Mr. Krupp’s pants and pulled. The man’s powers clearly were no match for the kids, as nothing happened other than Mr. Krupp’s trousers coming down with George and Harold’s pulling. The boys gasped and gave one more yank, this time to Mr. Krupp’s ankles.With that pull, they brought him back to the floor, sending him sprawling down and resulting in a slight tremor beneath their feet. As the students filtered out of their classrooms, they stopped to stare at their principal tumbling to the floor with his pants around his ankles, though thankfully, they didn’t seem to notice his previous floating.

And, as children do, they laughed.

“HuuRRGGSHEOOOHH!!” Mr. Krupp sneezed fiercely down towards his chest, hardly concerned with using his elbow again. His brow knit immediately after, upper lip pulling into a snarl with the need to sneeze again.  “HiiiHHH–!! GHIIsHhhhEEOOOHH!!”

George and Harold looked frantically around at their laughing classmates, trying to determine if anything super-powered and destructive had resulted from those two sneezes. Perhaps the floating itself had been the dose of energy allocated to those releases, as everything else around them seemed fine.

Then they saw Melvin. The genius had his eyes narrowed as he watched Harold and George. He had been the only one not laughing at Mr. Krupp’s pantless tumble. He looked suspicious with an eager tilt to his scowl, knowing that there was something afoot that he could expose.

George and Harold couldn’t think about Melvin right now. There were more important things at hand. 

Mr. Krupp rose slowly from the floor, however, his eyes filled to the brim with unbridled rage. He stared coldly at George and Harold as he silently pulled his trousers up, adjusting the belt. “My. Office,” he growled, sending the children in the hallway quiet with the eerie, tight fury in his voice. “Now.”

George and Harold forgot about watching him to be sure that he didn’t have to sneeze. They scrambled into the admissions office, and into Mr. Krupp’s from there, feeling like bugs being chased by a starved bird. They took their usual seats, eyes locked nervously on the “KNEEL HERE” sign on the front of the desk.

“We’re dead,” Harold croaked, seeing his tiny life flashing before his eyes. “He didn’t even yell! George, he’s REALLY mad! He’ll murder us!”

“I don’t think he feels well enough to murder us…” George tried to reason, but he was definitely terrified as well.

“Ohhh, you don’t look well, Benny….” Miss Anthrope said in a cooing voice once Mr. Krupp came back into the admissions office. “You should go home…”

While George and Harold gagged silently at the affection that the two nasty adults had for each other, they couldn’t help but silently beg Mr. Krupp to listen to the secretary. That would make their jobs so much easier if Mr. Krupp just wound up destroying his own house, where nobody could witness his super-powered sickness. Unless Miss Anthrope paid him a visit later. The boys both shuddered as they had this thought at the same time.

“I can’t go home, Edith….” Mr. Krupp murmured, rubbing irritably beneath his nose. His angry expression softened only slightly when she placed her hand on his forearm. “We have that damn assembly at 10…”

George and Harold didn’t even blink at hearing their principal swear. They both clutched their faces and stared at each other in horror, thinking about the entire school filing into the gym for the assembly. Everyone in the school staring at Mr. Krupp and his sickly, super-powered self.

“George,” Harold gasped, face drained of all color. “What are we supposed to do!?”

“I-I don’t know–But we have to do…something!” George shook his head, refusing to think of what would happen if the whole school paid witness to something similar to what happened in the hallway. Who wouldn’t be completely horrified at seeing their principal start to float, or break something with the force of his sneeze?

“How, though!?” Harold groaned, struggling to keep his voice low. “We can’t keep this up!”

“This is what we get for hypnotizing him! And now we’re the only ones who….” George trailed off before sighing deeply, placing a thoughtful hand on his chin. “…I was going to say, we’re the only ones who know about….his powers…but….”

Harold gulped and shook his head. “No.”

“Harold—”

“No! We’re not doing that!”

“We have to!” George said in a tight, shushing voice. “We need someone who knows how to…deal with this sort of thing.”

“But–! He’ll tell!”

“Not if we offer him something that he can’t refuse….” George said before sighing again, looking far more exhausted than a fourth-grader should. “….We have to ask Melvin for help.”