#ayyyy!!!

[littlebookreader]

*The Amelia gang on a rare trip to Disneyland, the cup ride*

Ant and Savannah: *spinning calmly, talking*

The Interviewer, Alvina, Amelia, Julio, Perez, Miguel, Guillamo, Mateo, Oleg, Boris, Mikhail : *flying past them, spinning as fast as they can, screaming*

Savannah: I told you not to bring them.

Ant: The real question is how did all ten of them get into one cup, querida?!?!?

Savannah: Who is that?

Kozlowski: *sitting in their cup as they jump back* Hello.

[cringeyvanillamilk]

Charlotte for the six fanarts please? I need more drawings of my supreme waifu 🥺💕

!!!!! AYYY okay!! Charlotte is a queen, it's what she deserves!! 😤👏👏

That should be the last one~!! 👀

[official-michael-afton]

Hello I... I finally got the nerve up to show myself... I was that one shy anon which appeared here randomly then promptly switched around and interacted with your main for a bit on accident. I Uh... used to interact with your posts a lot more... uhhh... hi. I’m Alpha. I hope to interact more ^.^

!!! Hullo Alpha!! *waves!*

[kayledoescomics]

HIRED  PAGE 13 

Cover | Page 12 | Actual page 13  THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT AND FOR THE KIND MESSAGES!! Life however isn’t a kind mistress, so rip. I can apologize a million times if I want to, but I’d rather give you the next page instead x’P

I didn’t have my tablet handy, but I wanted to get this out, so I sketched it on my sketchbook and the scanned and edited it with my limited knowledge, so forgive the unclean aspect. Also, there’s no shading whatsoever. A touchpad isn’t gread for using a cursor x’D Original fanfiction belongs to @paperhats-and-evil-schemes​

Happy April Fool’s day ;DDD

[littlebookreader]

Where do the Frogs Lie

Some information first:

Summary: Jeff the Doorman sees someone in the IHoP who doesn’t quite belong there. 

Fandoms: The Amelia Project(Podcast), The Good Place (TV) 

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Gen

Word count: 422 words

Relationships: Intern Ameliapod and Jeff the Doorman

Characters: Intern Ameliapod(The Amelia Project), Jeff the Doorman(The Good Place), Judge Gen(The Good Place), The Interviewer (The Amelia Project, mentioned)

Additional Tags: Crossovers, why am I doing this, I dunno, Intern fic!, Ayyyyyy!, not many tags, except sheer chaos, oh my goodness, what in the fork, really, will add more tags as this grows, but for now this is all I have author regrets everything, author regrets nothing, no beta we confuse like Intern, here you go

Part 2 of The Good Amelia. 

Fic: 

Ever since he’d become Doorman to the Afterlife, a title which was grossly overstated, thank you very much, Jeff didn’t see quite as many people as he’d like. Or frogs. His job simply included checking the permits and letting celestials cross over to Earth to carry out….what it was that they did.

Naturally the young, non-descript person showing up at his desk looking thoroughly confused alarmed him.

“Where the fork am I?” they blurted. “Fork. Fork. Fork. Why can’t I say ‘fork’?”

Jeff shrugged. The filter had been turned on a long time ago in the Interdimensional Hole of Pancakes, seeing how people were actually sensitive about that kind of thing, so naturally, the young person not being able to swear didn’t exactly surprise him.

“You’re in the IHoP, of course you can’t say ‘fork’.” Unlike the stranger, he’d deliberately said the word fork, knowing fully well that the filter didn’t work as well on him as it did the others.

They looked puzzled. “The IHoP? Like the pancake place?”

He shrugged again. “I suppose you could say that. Look, aren’t you supposed to be in the Bad Place? It’s where most humans go anyway.”

They looked horrified. “The Bad Place!”

“Yes, the Bad Place! Though, weirdly enough, I can’t see your point total…”

“My-my-my what?”

“What people get after they die? Did HR explain NOTHING to you?”

The horrified look grew even more intense as they added: “I’m not dead!”

Now it was Jeff’s turn to look confused. “How are you here then?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know! One moment I’m fetching cocoa for the Interviewer, the next, I’m here!”

There wasn’t much he could say to that, really. What could he say to THAT? That the system was flawed, that he was actually terrible at his job? WHAT?

He sighed. “Look, I don’t understand how you got here, but you’re dead, and this is the afterlife.”

“No, no, no, no, no, this-this isn’t possible. The Project…they said I wouldn’t die. Not if I worked there.”

Jeff grew increasingly confused by the minute. “If you aren’t dead, then WHY are you here?”

“Again, for the millionth time, I. Don’t. Know!”

“Oh, Jeff,” he heard Gen’s voice call. “There’s something I need to ask to, you know, afterlife stuff, that the living can’t hear?” She gestured pointedly at the stranger, who was, evidently, too bewildered to care.

“The living? Then what’s he doing here?”

“They,” she corrected. “And that, good Doorman, is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

[littlebookreader]

When You Get The Choice To Sit It Out Or Dance(Part 2/2)

For more information on the fic, look here. For the rest, it’s all under the cut.

@cocoa-collabs for Locked in the Office, as well as Crossovers.

@aaronsciencia here goes! (PS: Oh boy, this turned out to be a lot longer than I’d anticipated, and I’m pretty sure this is terrible, so sorry.)

This is inspired by their incredible drawing for the Crossovers prompt, so I’d suggest you to go and check that out! Link here. 

“We stayed there for longer than I could possibly tell, dancing the night away, quite literally.”

Alvina laughed. “And then your feet hurt like a whopper.”

The Interviewer joined in. “The irony of the whole thing was that I spent the night dancing with an angel, and yet my feet hurt like the devil. It was a lot of fun though, exchanging partners, and chattering about all sorts of nonsense.”

Alvina hopped off again, fumbling around among his stock of vinyl.

“Erm, Alvina, what have I said about-?” She cut him off, raising a finger of one hand, while rummaging around with the other.

“Oh, all right,” he mumbled, slightly cowed at this.

“Now I know I saw it around here somewhere…” she muttered as she searched, destroying his meticulously arranged(the ONE bit of organisation he had) collection, gathered since the time he could. Records of swing, jazz and all the various instruments flew through the air. The Interviewer was by no means an athlete, but given the context and the fact that he did not(despite popular opinion) wish to have his head blown off by vinyl, dodged and collected them as they went.

If it wasn’t happening to him, he might have even called it comical.

“Alvina, will you PLEASE stop throwing my records around!”

“Almost…”

He caught her latest discard, a record of Benny Goodman’s best hits.

“I understand that you like swing, but will you please?!”

“AHA!” She exclaimed triumphantly, then considered the mess and the fuming Interviewer, face red with anger and exhaustion, and mumbled, embarrassed, “Sorry, I will clean it up, I promise.”

He was too tired to argue. “I’ll help.” Then seeing the record which had excited her so much in the first place he added, “You- what were you looking for exactly?”

“This one, see? It’s even titled Gavotte and everything!”

“Alvina, that’s a Samuel Siegel composition TITLED ‘Gavotte’! Granted, it has a similar tone and tempo, but it’s not the real thing.” He stood up and walked toward the remnants of his collection, paused for a while and quickly pulled it out.

“This…this is more appropriate.” It was Fred Werner’s Gavotte, one of his absolute favourites, even to this day.

Alvina’s eyes widened at the sight of the thing. “Oh.”

He didn’t exactly blame her, it was an old rickety thing, and even he had to wonder how it lasted nearly as long as it did.

“Well, it doesn’t quite look like we’re leaving anytime soon, so…” He trailed off, waiting for her to catch the hint.

“Doesn’t it require a lot of people, or something? According to what you told me; I mean.”

“Not necessarily. Ozzy- Aziraphale, I mean, told me that. According to the club rules, we needed a minimum of five exchanges with the people present. Come to think of it, Ozzy and I were the only ones who dearly flouted that rule!”

She considered this. “That’s good news then! How do we do this?”

He smiled. “ I appreciate the enthusiasm, but your shoes are all wrong.”

“My….shoes?” She glanced down at her shoes, a simple pair of black pumps, and then looked over at the Interviewer’s feet, only to see that he had on a pair of black dancing shoes, instead of his standard oxfords.

“Yes, you would be incredibly uncomfortable in heels, if you tried to dance the gavotte.”

“Can I go barefoot then?”

“Good Lord, no! It’s a good thing that I keep a pair of extra shoes in the cupboard, then. We can make something of our forced isolation yet.”

Alvina smiled at this, and quickly changed out of her heels. He could tell that the shoes were slightly big for her, as could be expected.

“Well, first off, you find a partner.”

She simply raised an eyebrow at this. “There’s only the both of us here.”

“I have a process, Alvina. Let me use my process.”

After a long, but entertaining three hours, the Interviewer sank back into his chair, while Alvina occupied that of the clients.  

“That….that was fun! I wonder why it went out of style?”

“Well, I suppose it could have been the music as well, after all, not everybody has taste.”

“Hey! I will have you know; synth pop is iconic!”

The Interviewer laughed, and switched out the vinyl for a new one. “I wouldn’t exactly say iconic, but it is catchy.”

Alvina paused to appreciate the music he’d just begun to play. “Mmm, which song is this?”

“It’s the one that Ozzy and I danced to all those years ago.”

“Oh, that’s lovely. I can see why it means a lot to you, actually.”

He nodded. “Mhm. I wonder where he is now, what whacky wonders he must be up to.”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Somewhere off in the distance, not too far from the Project, an angel and a demon dined at the Ritz, celebrating their latest victory, and a world being saved.

“To the World,” they toasted, a million thoughts racing through their minds as they did- the uncertainty of the future, the trials of the past and the promise of hope, in a world that wasn’t even aware of all that had transpired.

As they did, a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square, telling all these stories to those willing to listen.

[novabun-ships]

KYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDENKYDEN

I'm gonna go out on a limb and correct me if I'm wrong but I think your favourite ship of mine is Kyden. /silly

[hestiasroom]

Senate confirms Ketanji Brown Jackson to Supreme Court in historic vote

Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson became the first Black woman to be elevated to the Supreme Court when the Democratic-controlled Senate on Thursday confirmed Preside