#if anything goes wrong we will have the immaculate fanfics though

[sad-scarred-sassy]

Elucien has the power to redeem the entire series for me. Please Sarah, don’t mess it up, you got it!!

[dowagerintraining]

Fanfiction: QE does Hogwarts

I hope, I pray, that if this does come across their attention, that none of the QE Fab Five will take offence to being immortalised in my little fanfic for Harry Potter. Guys, if you do object, by all means get in touch and say so. But it really was just for the lols and written with love. 

I can’t put this on ffnet, because one of their rules about stories is not to use any ‘real’ people in your stories. So I am going to post it on tumblr instead. I hope people enjoy it. 

If you don’t, you know where the door is. 

--

The Fab Five from QE are brought to London for an extra special UK episode. They are used to having weeks where they change lives. They’re in for a week which will change theirs too. A headmaster has nominated his old friend and long time colleague for a makeover. There’s just a few problems. 1) He teaches at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and 2) he’s currently in 1995... 

“Oh my God oh my god oh my god, this place is just soooo amazing! I mean it’s so old, really old, and you know I never use looking old as a complement but this city is just owning the looking old thing…”

Karamo smiles to himself as Jonathan goes into autowitter in the background. Tan drives ahead, focusing on the road, the only member of the Fab Five permitted to drive in London traffic, as he learned to drive on what the rest of them refer to as the ‘wrong side of the road’.

He has to admit though, London sure is pretty. There are streets here which are older than anything he’s ever seen in the southern states of America. It’s like driving around a movie set, you half expect people in frock coats to come around the corner at any moment in horses and carriages.

“So who are we doing for this ultra special UK makeover?”

The cheering ripples throughout the car as Karamo pulls out the folder. This application arrived in style, written in green ink on old parchment, with an immaculate hand drawn pencil sketch of the person who had been nominated.

“OK, so, our next guest is a Professor.”

The cheers from the back of the car intensify.

“A Professor? What, like at Oxford or something?”

“No, no, not at University, he’s a school teacher. But I don’t have the name of the school here, so I can’t see what subject. He’s been in the position for more than twenty years, and has been nominated by his boss.”

“So what’s the dude’s name?”

“Professor Filius Flitwick.”

There’s a moment of silence. None of them have ever heard a name like it before.

“Ok…” Jonathan tilts his head to one side like an inquisitive bird, turning to share a glance with Bobby, who pulls a confused grimace with high eyebrows. “So … Phil, then…”

“I guess we can go with Phil, we’ll ask when we meet him.”

“So who’s his Boss?”

“Professor Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore.”

“Oh my Gaaaad,” Bobby rubs his forehead, “You just have to love how the British do their names.” 

“Well, apparently Filius, or Phil, is turning sixty five this year, he’s been working at the school for over twenty years, and he’s an amazing teacher, the students love him and he’s been very successful. It says here is a boarding school, so the school is pretty much Phil’s life’s work. He adores his job, but Albus is aware that he has had no time to spend on himself, and his appearance makes him look a lot older than he actually is.”

“Ahhhh, poor baby. We all know teachers work too hard,”  Antoni is full of sympathy.

“Have we got a photograph, Karamo.”

“We’ve got a sketch…” Karamo hands back the immaculate pencil drawing.

“Oh wow…”

“Um…”

“Yeah…”

Tan’s interest is piqued. He’s never heard the three in the back seat reduced to silence so swiftly. Spotting a parking space to the side of the road, he indicates and pulls in.

“Alright, this I have to see … hand it over…”

Like the others, he is stunned into silence. Firstly because the picture is a masterpiece. He’d almost swear it was alive, it could nearly live and breathe. But secondly, Filius doesn’t look sixty five. He looks closer to one hundred and sixty five. His face is obscured behind an enormous and wizened old beard. His mustache had grown out and merged with the beard, and his face, which was framed by hair which had to be snowy white, was so lined and wrinkled that he looked ancient. A pair of old fashioned half moon spectacles were perched on the edge of his nose. He was dressed in what looked to Tan liked a dressing gown, the sheen of which appeared to be worn velvet, the sort usually seen on the curtains in old school halls. Perched on his head was a bent pointy hat, which seemed to be the same material as his clothing.

“I … “ Tan passed a hand over his face. “I can’t tell, because it’s a drawing obviously, but … does this guy look a little, short? To any of you?”

“I was thinking that,” Bobby said seriously. “It might just be the drawing, but … he looks like he might be a dwarf. Like, he might be an actual dwarf. Like, what’s that actor? The famous one in Game Of Thrones…”

“Peter Dinklage!”

“Yes! That’s it exactly, like him.”

“So … we need to tread carefully here then.”

“But are we not going to talk about the rest?” Jonathan’s voice is shrill with confusion and something approaching outrage. “How on earth does this guy look so old? I mean, sixty is not old. Not these days. Not when you look at someone as dreamy as George Clooney.”

“Well,” Karamo struggles to be fair, “It’s like Antoni said. Teachers work hard, and if he’s teaching at a boarding school, he might not have time to take care of himself.”

“Where is the school, anyway?”

“It doesn’t say, but the headmaster, Albus, is going to meet us in London. Perhaps he lives here during the holidays.”

“Where are we meeting him?”

“The directions are a little confused, but he says to come to King’s Cross Station, and he’ll meet us between platform 8 and 9.”

“Ok, Karamo, are we sure this isn’t production playing a prank on us? We’re not going to end up being mocked on some late night show are we?”

“No, I talked to them, they absolutely swear it’s a real gig, but they are as confused as us. But you know, they’re always looking to include a more diverse range of guests on the show, and the money finally got sorted for us to do a UK special…”

Tan starts up the car and indicates, pulling out into traffic once more. “OK, well, we’re not far from King’s Cross, so we’ll stick the car in short term parking and go pick up Albus.”

“What do you think is with those clothes Tan?”

“Well, maybe it was a dress up day at school or something, the guy looks like some kind of wizard.”

The guys all chuckle, as Antoni and Bobby start exchanging stories about their favourite high school teachers, and the ones who definitely needed to have some kind of makeover. Karamo smiles to himself and listens without a quarter of his brain, as he scans through the flimsy file. There’s not a lot to go on, but maybe Albus can shed some more light on the matter. He’s heard that the British are a lot more reserved, so maybe the guy is just shy, and Albus doesn’t want to hand over too much incriminating evidence to embarrass his friend. That does happen from time to time, and it’s often lead to some of the most fun experiences they’ve had, helping people to blossom and come out of their shells.

“OK, everyone, we’re here!”

Parked up and car secured, the five friends head over to King’s Cross station. Jonathan skips, having overcome his jet lag considerably more quickly than most of the others. He causes a slight stir as the staid and conventional British commuters turn to see which tourist is causing all the commotion.

He doesn’t have the attention to himself for long however. There’s a far more eccentric personality standing on platform 8 who is drawing open mouthed stares from everyone around him.

“Oh my good lordy lord, who on earth is that?”

“Karamo, is that…”

“Do you think…”

“Oh my God…”

“Excuse me, are you … Mr Dumbledore?”

The man is tall, with long flowing clothes which could only be described as robes, of rich scarlet, which hang down to his ankles. His hair is silver white, reading down below his belt, and a tall pointed purple hat is perched on his head, similar to the one Filius was wearing in his portrait, only without the bend in the middle. Tan finds himself remembering snatches of a poem about an old woman, wearing purple, with a red hat, which doesn’t go, but all of those recollections flee from his mind when Albus turns to greet them.

His beard, as impressive as his hair, hangs down past his waist, and is tucked neatly into his belt. His eyes are so blue, they stand out from his face like chips of best bone china, and his smile dominates his face, which is impressive considering the impact of all the white hair. He stands with his arms wide open.

“My friends! My dear good friends, thank you for coming all this way to help an old man sort out his dear friend. I am indeed Albus Dumbledore.”

His voice is sonorous. Tan is reminded of a school trip to Stratford Upon Avon, to watch the RSC perform a Shakespeare play. He thought that only classically trained stage actors could ever speak so perfectly and so correctly.  He looks across at Jonathan, who he suspects has fallen head over heels in love at first sight with this imposing, impressive man who is absolutely in command of himself and comfortable in his delightful eccentric self.

Karamo, the first to recover, extends a hand for a hearty shake and begins the round of introductions. His experience of being the big, black, southern queer has given him a deep respect for those who stand out and proud in their difference, and an ability to take anyone at face value regardless of how the present themselves to the world.

“I cannot tell you what it means to me that you have all come so far, but I am afraid our journey is not over yet. We have a long way to go and in more ways than one.”

“So why are we meeting at Kings Cross, Albus? Is Filius here?”

“Oh, no no no, my good chap, he’s not here. We shall have to take a journey to go and see him. He’s up at the school, deep in preparation for the next year. The staff return a week before the students, to set everything to rights before everyone arrives.”

“Great, so where is the school?”

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you. But I can take you there.”

“Wait, what did you … I mean...?”

“Do not be perplexed Bobby. All will become clear. In the mean time, you will all need one of these.”

Albus is handing out tickets. But they don’t look anything like the train tickets that Tan remembers from when he lived in London. These aren’t small, orange and white striped cards. They are large, golden in colour, with immaculate copperplate writing. The destination is listed as ‘Hogsmeade’, and the platform is emblazoned across the front as ‘Platform 9 ¾ ‘

“Albus is this some kind of joke?”

“A Joke? Not at all Antoni. But I confess it will be a little confusing and will require some explanations as we go. But for now, we have a long journey to make. Could you all come with me please…

Albus leads them over to a wall between the platforms 8 and 9. He puts an arm around Jonathan, who is clearly delighted.

“Are you ready to go on an adventure dear boy?”

“With you Albus? Anywhere…!”

“Good, good, That’s good. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re scared.”

“Do what at a bit of a run?”

“This…”

Albus suddenly, forcefully takes Jonathan by the shoulders, turns him to face the wall, and shoves him towards the wall, hard and fast.

The others move to call out, remonstrate. Karamo has a vision flash before his eyes of Jonathan lying bleeding on the floor before them. Except he isn’t. In fact, he’s nowhere to be seen.

“What… what did you … where did he go?”

“He’s on the platform. Waiting for us.”

“On the platform. Beyond the wall.”

Karamo blinks, turns to the others, who can’t explain the very simple thing they just saw happen before their own eyes.

“Beyond the wall?” says Bobby.

Albus smiles. “Yes. Beyond the wall.”

Bobby suddenly turns. Looks at the wall. Before Antoni can reach out and stop him, he runs full tilt at the wall.

And suddenly, he vanishes. Nobody can quite explain how it happens. But now Bobby is gone too.

“Albus… is that wall real?”

“Absolutely read, my dear Tan.”

“Then how did?”

“Let me ask you this … do you believe that your friends are standing on the otherside?”

“... Yes.”

“Then you are half way to believing yourself. And therefore, half way there.”

Tan turns to Antoni and holds out a hand. He turns to Karamo, repeating the gesture.

“Yes yes, that’s good. Now. After three.”

The three men all link hands.

“All together now. One, two … three!”

Feeling like school children in a playground, all three of them, alongside Albus run full tilt at the wall …

*

Bobby just has time to pull Jonathan out of the way from his skipping and cavorting routine as Karamo, Tan and Antoni crash through the wall behind them.

“Oh my God, Oh my God… guys! GUYS! You have to see this…”

Suddenly Karamo finds himself being dragged bodily around a corner. A strange sound fills his ears, a puffing, almost like a wind blowing, before a shrieking whistle fills the air. Standing before him is a scarlet steam train, the sort that used to appear in the old wild west films, apart from its startling colour. In large golden lettering, the words ‘Hogwarts Express’ are boldly embossed across the front.

“Well gentlemen,” Albus strides ahead, throwing a gleaming smile over his shoulder as he checks and snaps shut an impressive golden pocket watch. “That’s our warning. The train is about to leave. We must make sure we are all aboard…”

[flatsuke]

are requests still open? :D I would like to request for a Keisuke Shijo fluff/nsfw (*´꒳`*) he's from Liar! Office deception(: he's such a babe but there's currently no fanfic for him yet coz.. he's pretty new? If you haven't played the game yet, then I would like to request for a eisuke/ota fluff(*´꒳`*). Thank you! You're an amazing writer(: all the best💜

Hi anon! Unfortunately, I haven’t played Liar yet, so I chose to write some Eisuke fluff instead (I hope you don’t mind). Thank you for the compliment and I hope you like this ^^!

Title: tête-à-tête

Summary: Eisuke can’t keep his eyes to himself, while she makes a mistake that’d seemingly jeopardize her. It doesn’t.

Genre:  Fluff, Romance

Pairing:  MC/Eisuke

a/n: this fic is based on this post i made a while back lmao. i’m kinda proud of turning a shitpost into an actual fic :’) also, eisuke and mc are dorks.

@maidofstars @2bedroom-baddestbidderlove @bolt8826

@ada254 (THANK YOU FOR YOUR IDEAS IN THE TAGS!!)

“This is a pain,” Luke said, moping. “I came all the wayhere only to find out MC isn’t here yet.”

“You do know that you’re required to be here for auctionmeetings, right?” Eisuke sipped his coffee, not even bothering to hide hisdispleasure at his own tasteless brew.

“There’s no point in being here if I don’t get to see hermagnificent collarbones today…”

“Aaand there he goes again,” Ota commented.

True enough, the penthouse wasn’t as lively as it ought tobe with MC absent. Eisuke could feel his mood quickly dampening at the taste ofcoffee that wasn’t hers. He had half a mind to page her just to salvage histaste buds, but he had to restrain himself. She worked herself to the boneyesterday, and was feeling a bit guilty.

“Well, collarbones aside, MC really is cute, huh?” Babaadded.

Eisuke felt a stinging pain in his mouth, only to realize hebit his tongue at Baba’s statement.

“Aw, come on, guys. Don’t look at me like that. Are yousaying you all seriously haven’tthought that at least once?”

The room grew a bit silent at the thief’s retort, and Eisukefound himself musing on it. Baba wasn’t wrong in the least. She was very easy on the eyes, what with the wayshe smiled at him and carried herself around him. She wore the maid’s uniformalmost every single day, but he wasn’t a fool not to see that she was hidingsomething special underneath all that. He’d be a blind idiot to thinkotherwise—not that he’d ever admit it out loud, though.

“I guess she has nice legs,” Mamoru said, taking anotherdrag.

The thought of MC diligently cleaning the room, clad in herfitted, work-prescribed stockings conjured not-so-innocent images in Eisuke’smind.

“Oh, so you’ve got a thing for legs now, Mamo?” Ota teasedback.

“Shut up. You see ‘em just as much as I do.”

Her bending down,looking for something underneath a couch, her rear facing me—

“Boss?”

Baba’s voice shook Eisuke from hisdefinitely-not-work-related trance, and Eisuke had to hide his irritation, lestthe others have an inkling of his definitely-not-work-related thoughts.

“You’re oddly quiet today,” Baba noted, the smile neverleaving his face.

“Unlike some people, I have better things to think about.” Says the man thinking about her bent over.

“Really, Eisuke? We all know you think she’s cute, so don’tbother hiding it,” Ota added smugly.

“Whatever.” Like hellI’m telling you that.

Not long after, they heard a soft knock from the door, andsure enough, she had arrived for the day’s cleaning. The others stared at heras if they had seen a ghost, but she could only look back at them curiously.

Talk about bad timing—

“Uh, is there something going on?” she asked tentatively.

“Nothing you should concern yourself with, MC!” Babachirped. “Don’t worry your pretty little mind about us.”

“Okay…” She didn’t look convinced, but she started cleaninganyway.

Try as he might, Eisuke couldn’t keep his eyes off her evenif he wanted to. Either Baba’s comment got to him, or he was starting to losehis wits.

Either way, he had to admit, there was one thing thatbothered him about Baba’s comment.

She’s definitely morethan just cute.

That night, Eisuke plopped down on his bed. It had been along day full of meetings that seemed to drone on and on, and he wanted nothingmore than to just sleep his troubles away. He unbuttoned the topmost buttons ofhis shirt before letting out a sigh.

This bed’s way too bigfor just one person.

Not that he wanted a smaller bed, but lately, he wasstarting to feel something every timehe saw the cold, empty side of his bed.

Without warning, the image of MC, immaculately sprawled on his bed, dressed in nothing but his shirt, appeared in his mind. Ashiver went down his spine before he begrudgingly realized that he should not be thinking those sorts of thingsabout his employee, of all people. Ugh, Baba’s rubbing off on me.

His phone buzzed next to him, and he scowled at the sound.Whoever the hell wanted to disturb him at this ungodly hour was about to get apiece of his mind. He was about to send the interloper a scathing reply when hesaw MC’s name on the screen.

Strange. He couldn’t remember the last time she texted himfor anything. Most of the time, their form of communication consisted of himpaging her, or the occasional call from him. She never initiated contact, asfar as he could recall. If he was being completely honest, it disheartened him.

Curious, he opened her message only to be met with asurprise.

“Holy shit. Holy fuckingshit.”

The “message” she had sent him wasn’t a work-related text oran innocent greeting. No, her message was the farthest thing from innocent—it was a picture of her in front ofher bathroom mirror, wearing nothing but lacy lingerie that left nothing to theimagination.

He had to refresh the message twice just to make sure itreally was her, and not some fantasy conjured by his overworked mind. No matterhow much he re-opened it, all he could see was her, clad in a lacy black bikiniset he never would’ve thought she’d dare to wear. Who knew that under her maid’suniform and her quiet countenance was a stunning body and an even bolderspirit? Mamoru may have called her a kid all the time, but the cop was a blindfool as far as Eisuke was concerned.

The real stinger was the caption that came with the photo:

[Do I look good inthis :) ?]

Good god, she’s goingto be the death of me.

Why the hell would she send him this? It feltout-of-character for someone as shy as she was, but he couldn’t find himself disappointedat the situation. In fact, if he had to say, he was almost…ecstatic, even. If this was her way coming on to him, then Eisuke wasn’tcomplaining anytime soon.

Nevertheless, he was still her boss. The rational side ofhim urged him to delete the photo and erase everything from his memory.

But, goddamn it, you’vewaited so long for an opportunity, and it looks like she made the first move.

That was also true. God knows how many lonely nights he’dspend with only his right hand as company and images of her lost in the throesof pleasure. He’d die before saying it out loud, but nothing save for her her seemed to excite him anymore. Thecompany of other women did nothing to rouse his blood, but even her mostmundane gesture sent him into a spiral of dwindling self-control.

He stared at the photo one last time. Maybe this was hisreward for months of sleeping alone. If there was a god out there, then damn,maybe he’d start praying if this was what faith got him.

Tomorrow, he’d confront her about it. For now, he desperatelyneeded a cold—no—freezing shower torelieve him of the uncomfortable tightness in his pants.

I’m seriously going tolose my mind.

Impatient as he was, Eisuke couldn’t wait for the next dayto come. He paged MC up to his office as soon as soon as he arrived thatmorning. If he was anxious or excited, he couldn’t tell at this point; all hewanted was to see MC as soon as possible. He even prepared some wine for themto hopefully get the message across.

He heard her knock on the door and beckoned her to come in. Eisukeschooled his most neutral expression while she looked adorably flustered,fiddling with the hem of her uniform.

“MC, you know why I called you in here, right?” he askedher, pouring some wine to appear casual.

She gulped before answering him.

“Is it because I accidentally sent you my nudes…?”

…What?

He froze and stopped pouring the moment he processed herwords.

“…Accidentally?” Thewords were ringing in his head as she nodded back at him. Suddenly, he wantednothing more than the ground to swallow him up and erase this memory from existence.

For a while, they both remained in painful silence. Theawkwardness was so palpable that Eisuke wondered if she wanted to hide in ahole as much as he did. Her unabashed blush seemed to indicate it.

But wait a minute, he thought. If she sent him the pictureby mistake, then that meant someone elsewas meant to receive it. As far as he could remember, she wasn’t dating anyoneat the moment.

Or was she? Shecould very well be dating one of the other auction managers right now and hewould be none the wiser.

He felt a pang of white-hot fury at the thought of one ofthem raking their eyes all over her, pressing their lips on her smooth skin,savoring the cries from her lips and—

“Mr. Ichinomiya,” she said, looking away from him. “Just…pleaseforget this ever happened. It was a complete accident, and I swear this’llnever happen again—“

“Who did you mean to send it to?”

“E—excuse me?”

“Just answer the question.” For my peace of mind.

She was still blushing, but she forced herself to speakanyway.

“…Look, I don’t know why youhave to know, but my friend gave me some lingerie as a birthday present, andshe wanted me to send her a picture to show that it fit me. Your name justhappened to be next to hers on my contact list, so…”

Eisuke inwardly let out a sigh of relief. If it had beensome cretin, god knows what he would’ve done.

“Sir, I really think you should just delete the photo andpretend this never happened.”

True, he probably should. If he were a good boss and apolite gentleman, he’d delete the photo to save them both the potential trouble(not to mention awkwardness) in the future. Then they could both resume theirlives as if nothing happened.

The only problem was he was neither of those things.

“How about this instead?” Eisuke suggested. “It’d be unfairto you if you were the only one in a compromising position. I’ll be sure toreturn the favor, then we’ll be even. Deal?”

“I really don’t understand…”

“You’ll see soon enough.” Eisuke took a long sip of his wine,easing his earlier tension.

“By the way, you didn’t look half-bad.”

If she was blushing a while ago, then she was positivelybeet red now.

“Oh, um, thank you…”

She left his office after giving a hurried bow, and Eisukecould only smirk at how his plan would come to fruition very soon.

That night, MC plopped on her own bed, dead tired from theday’s events. Today was absolutely mortifying,to say the least. She really hadn’t meant to send him the godforsaken photo,and she thought she had sealed her doom the moment she realized she sent it to Mr. Ichinomiya, of all people.

God, I really thoughtI was gonna die back there.

But the look on his face when she told him it was an accident—itwas the same look he’d always have whenever he drank someone else’s coffee. Itwas the look he had whenever he’d try to pet an animal, only to have it claw athim in retaliation.

It was, dare she say it, disappointment.

Come on. Like he’d bedisappointed by something like that.

And yet, the look on his face when she told him the picturewas meant for a friend—it was undeniably relief.

She didn’t know what to believe anymore, and there was afluttering in her stomach she couldn’t shake off. It only grew worse when sheremembered his earlier compliment.

Get it together, MC!He’s your boss, for crying out loud.

Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up only to see that Mr.Ichinomiya sent her a text.

After what happened, she could only feel apprehension atwhat was to come. Surely, he was going to fire her after today. God, now she neededto look for a new job, too. Great.

Shakily, her finger swiped the phone screen to open themessage.

“…What is this?”

The room suddenly became very warm, and all the blood rushedto her cheeks the moment the screen changed.

It wasn’t a brief text, but rather, a picture of himself. Hewas standing in front of his own bathroom mirror wearing only his blackboxer-briefs, giving her a delicious, unadulterated view of his lean, chiseledbuild. She had to gulp at the distinct V-line that ran down his hips and into…that place.

There was a caption that came along with the photo, and MChad to blink twice to make sure she wasn’t seeing things:

[Now we’re even. Belatedhappy birthday ;)]

Facing him tomorrow was going to be one hell of a task.