Addressing previous reviews time:

Jerapple: Um… Ok? Jerapple? That would be more Mick. Mick and Food would be a great couple.

eyeball: Thank you for your kind opinion. I am only starting to get this started, so I really don't care, but when the oneshots roll in, I want to know what you think then. Thank you for your time.

Tammy: Cool, I always thought of them as rivals, I think that maybe he could push him to snap and boom! I envision many bromantic moments between the two

Anon: Thank you for agreeing. It is nice to know that there are people that don't fall head over heels for all canon couples

Momo: I haven't thought of Moy like that. Your reasoning makes sense. If Jabian wasn't my OTP, I would definitely go for Moy. If they do Moy, I at least hope they have a good build up from friends to best friends to girlfriend and boyfriend, because I would hate it if they were just shoved together.

BTRandHOA: You're in luck because I am writing Fabicia right now!

Lyds22: Aw, thank you! I've read your stories and they're great. I never actually reviewed the story of us because I was an idiot, and now I regret that.

ReaderGirl98: I never really considered Mick with Patricia. I have seen a story that alluded to it, but it was just friendship.

Anyway, thanks to those reviewers, and here's the first installment. I fell in love with this couple recently, and I just… They're so cute together!

Title: On and On and On…

Couple: Appy (it works because in Het Huis Anubis, Appie is Alfie's name, so it is synchronizes) and slight Joppy love/hate

Words: 3,552

Rating: M for Miranda, swearing, references to sexual situations, the lot

~thisisalinebreakyousee~

Picture them cheering, picture them cheering, she told herself. This was how she perked herself up every night and as it always worked, she wasn't going to stop now. Pursing her lips, she examined herself in the mirror once more, ironing out any wrinkles in her costume.

Tonight, in fact, it was Rockabilly night, and that reflected in her outfit. She wore a figure hugging dress with sequins and a pair of heeled-ankle boots. Her blond hair was loose except for her bangs which were pinned up and teased lightly, puffing up ever so slightly. Makeup caked her face. Eyeliner rimmed her eyes thickly, her lips were a harsh red, her overall complexion pale and similar to that of a porcelain doll. Thank God for the makeup, she mused.

The room bustled with different girls, touching up their makeup, changing into different outfits, talking to loudly for her tastes. The whole room was swathed in a layer of smoke that some of the girls found disgusting which alternatively she found comforting. Tension. Chatter. Excitement. This was her place.

It seemed like a few days ago she was in school. Really, it had been a year, but so much had happened in that time, so much had changed. For one thing, she had gotten a job. Money had been tight and this had been the only alternative. But, soon she found that working here was bearable, even fun. She would never actually tell anyone that though. To anyone else, this was just temporary money and soon she would quit and become a lawyer, or a doctor.

"Poppy," Miranda hissed," Quick, we have to go onstage, now!" Fluffing her hair once more, she followed her friend. The cluster of girls stood at the sidelines, then walked on in one straight line and took their places. The stage was dark and expectant. She stood beside Miranda, this giving her a sense of stability on stage.

When the lights came up, she couldn't help but squint a bit at their intensity, but it was better than her first time on stage. She was used to it now, which was good. The music began to play, slowly speeding up. The star of the show, Betty, started singing. Her voice was silky smooth, with unique kinks in between that made her song her own. They backups struck their poses, lights flickered, starting to strobe, and they started their routine.

The routine was simple, but doing it in front of an audience always was nerve-wracking. At least, she thought, I know no one here. How wrong she was. When their routine came to its imminent end, Betty, who usually was in a rush to leave the stage first, starting speaking. "Ladies and gentlemen, at the request of our guests, I would like to welcome our very, very special birthday boy, Mr. Clarke." Clarke? As in her brother? No, Clarke quite possibly was a common surname. There couldn't just be one Clarke.

A man walked on stage, a smug expression on his face. He, with age, had filled out. His shoulders had broadened, he looked more muscular, and his hair, that was the same, meaning, it still made up for half his height and his ego. Betty walked in a circle around him, stopping when she was right behind him. She trailed a hand up and down his torso before announcing," So, do you want this to be the best birthday you'll ever have, Mr. Clarke?" The crowd cheered at their announcement that drinks would be on him tonight.

How Typical, thought Poppy, Jerome being the attention whore he is. She stormed offstage, being ignored by most others, Miranda trailing after her. At this moment, she hated Jerome beyond compare. If she could, she would claw at his throat, and for multiple different reasons.

As soon as she slumped down at her vanity, her fingers rubbing her temples trying to ward off the migrain that she could feel swelling up, Miranda added herself to the equation. "The fuck is your problem?" Other girls would be offended at her use of language and take it as a challenge. Miranda was one of her best friends though and she knew that she was just like that in general. Poppy always told her that she could beat a sailor when it came to. Miranda merely shot her a smile, obviously taking it as a compliment.

"Miranda, I don't want to talk about it right now," Poppy warned. Sighing rather loudly, she plunked down besides Poppy. She wanted answers and wouldn't leave without them. That was just how Miranda worked.

"So? I haven't got all day." Poppy put her hands down and started fidgeting with them, not particularly knowing where to start. It was such a long story, and just the thought of describing everything seemed daunting.

"My brother and I had a fight-"

"Oh, whoop-dee-doo!" Miranda waved her hand around, trying to tell her to get on with it. She was never the one for patience.

Poppy gritted her teeth," -on his last day in highschool. Well, more like senior prom. I had gone with his friend Alfie, that's the only reason I was there. It got late and my house mother wanted me home so I left, figuring I could walk on my own. While I walked I heard rustling in the trees-"

"Werewolf?" Miranda teased, raising her eyebrows.

"Aw, shut up!" Miranda snickered softly before encouraging Poppy to finish the story. As much as she loved her, she could be a handful.

"Anyway, so I went to look and saw my brother's girlfriend and his ex getting at it-"

"Tongue?"

"What?"

"Was there any chest squeezing action, butt pinching? What, did he like, shove his dick into her super-clamping virgin vagina? You have to be more descriptive or I won't be able to picture any of this in my mind."

She was really trying Poppy's patience, "Miranda, do you want me to finish or not?"

"Fine," Miranda huffed.

"They sprung apart immediately when they saw me, but before they could explain, I was running back to Jerome. The tosser, he was drunk along with the rest of the victims of his punch spiking. I tried to tell him but the two approached and told him they did nothing. He believed them and I kept arguing. At some point I called her a cheating bitch and he slapped me, telling me to never talk about his girlfriend like that. As far as facebook knows, they're still together and he hasn't talked to me for three years."

"The nerve of the bastard!" Miranda shouted, quickly shushed by Poppy.

"I know. Why does he have to be here tonight of all nights?"

"I say you go talk to him and let him know he is a fucktard." How she wished she could. The satisfaction that it would bring her would be amazing.

"Thing is, I don't think he recognizes me. I'm really just hoping to hide out tonight and pray he doesn't notice me."

"Really? You have trouble with attracting," Miranda glanced over her," unwanted attention."

Poppy rolled her eyes.

"Come on, we need to change. Kelli's sick so your taking over her shift." Poppy groaned. She was fine with dancing onstage where she was indistinguishable between all the other pretty faces. When it came to the bar though, all you got were a couple of sleazebags who thought that by flirting with you, they would be the most original men in the universe. What does that get you? And evening with a bunch of hammered arseholes.

Not to mention the outfit. Any girl that wasn't onstage is required to wear their bar-maid outfit. More like French maid outfit it was. Dangerously short, slutty, and generally uncomfortable. All the girls dreaded bar duty. 'Screw you Kelli...' She grabbed for outfit knowing that this would be one long night.

"Fuckin' Kelli," At least with Miranda to share the work with, the work wouldn't be that bad. She hoped.

~thisisalinebreakyousee~

I was at a party and this fella said to me

"Something bad is happening, I'm sure you do agree

People care for nothing, no respect for human rights

Evil times are coming, we are in for darker nights"

I said, "Who are you to talk about impending doom?"

He got kinda wary as he looked around the room

He said, "I'm a minister, a big shot in the state"

I said, "I just can't believe it, boy I think it's great

Brother can you tell me what is right and what is wrong?"

He said, "Keep on rocking baby, 'til the night is gone"

Unfortunately, Poppy was stuck with the side of the bar that was serving Jerome. He was farely lax for what she'd known him to be, considering he would usually be throwing a riot by now. That might've just been the high school version of him. Miranda refused to switch sides, happily flirting with someone guy on her side of the bar. This was easy for her though. She had a face like a fox, completed with red hair and green eyes. That's what really drew them in. Especially on St. Pat's, she mumbled to herself.

Her hands gripped the rag in her hand as she cleaned the counter once more. Sometimes she wondered if people had any idea that the liquid inside the cups was supposed to go inside you. It was one of the few nuiansces of the job. For the most part, she ignored Jerome and did her job showing no sign of emotion.

"Another drink please," Jerome called like she was his servant. She swallowed her pride and got him another glass of scotch. Before she knew it, he started rambling. The club was crowded now, making it hard to hear him. No doubt it was due to the fact that the drinks were on him. Last time she had remembered, her Gerbil wasn't exactly rich. In fact, last she remembered, he could barely even scour up enough money for Mara's corsage.

That's was she had done to him though. Mara had turned him into such a great guy that he didn't even want to pull pranks. "You know," he said, louder this time,"Something bad is happening, I'm sure you do agree. People care for nothing, no respect for human rights. Evil times are coming, we are in for darker nights." Stopping the urge to roll her eyes proved hard. This was one of Jerome's techniques of seduction he used: the end of the world tactic.

"Who're you to talk about impending doom?" She gave him a skeptic look. He brought the drink up to his lips and drank, then looked around the room before replying to her.

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, he surveyed the room making sure no one was listening. He leaned in and whispered in her ear," I'm a minister, sort of a big shot in the state." The fact that he was leaning in and he was drunk disturbed her, so he backed away and acted like she didn't care. Besides, hadn't caring too much gotten her into trouble last time?

What surprised her most was the ministry job. Jerome hardly seemed like the type to work in the ministry. He was too secretive, but then again, she knew he was extremely smart, he just chose to hide his skills. Still, the ministry job just seemed strange for him. The thought of him, submitting to a higher authority, one of the biggest rule breakers, was somewhat endearing and laughable.

"Aw, that would be you, snatching up a ministry job. That's Jerome for you, though…" She had hardly registered her tangent until she realized he was now looking at her with wide eyes. For a minute, he fiddled with his drink on the counter.

"How did you know my name?" She could sense the anger behind it, poorly masked in his state of intoxication. The last time she had heard that tone in his voice was when... He wouldn't do that to her again, would he? Right now though, he was a drunken mess, and he was angry, and if one added that up, it did not look good for where Poppy was standing right now. It all just brought back the memories. The stinging of his palm on her face, Mara, crushed and Mick looking slightly victorious, Her empty sobs that went unnoticed.

"Jerome, just listen-" She hoped to explain the situation before he realized, but he cut her off, wanting a straight answer. He was one of those people that always wanted to get to the point without hearing all the other flowery details.

"Who are you?" He asked, his anger rising.

"Gerbil just listen to me!" She shouted now, avoiding eye contact.

"Poppy?" There was silence between them. It was so painful. She felt constricted, and it felt like she wasn't breathing properly. His eyes focused in on her, causing her to squirm. Similarly, her green orbs focused on him, as if daring him to talk again.

"What? Why? Poppy, why are you working here?" His voice was almost caring. That hurt her.

"Why would you care? I don't remember you caring at prom? I don't remember you ever trying to talk to me after that. You ignored me Jerome. I always… I just thought that maybe you would come to your senses and apologize. But then again, you are Jerome."

"You're still not over prom?" He scoffed, acting like what had happened hadn't been a big deal at all.

"No I'm not! You didn't believe me! I was telling you the truth and you believed her. You chose her over me, and now here I am, so I hope you're proud of your younger sister." People close by turned to see what the racket was, but tuned out. She simply stood there, all her rage showing. And she couldn't stand being around him, being around the person that was always supposed to be there for her. What a sham of a brother he turned out to be.

Over in the corner I could see this other guy

He was kinda flirty, he was giving me the eye

So I took advantage of the fact that I'm a star

Shook my hair and took a casual stroll up to the bar

And as sure as hell this guy was coming up to me

He said, "Who am I and who are you and who are we?

What's our situation, do we have some time for us?"

I said I was not exactly waiting for the bus

He said, "If you're going somewhere can I come along?"

I said, "Keep on rocking baby, 'til the night is gone"

She stormed away from the bar and into the crowd, not wanting to be close to him. Walking away, she felt herself cool down, her anger slowly fading away as she put distance between them. She scanned the crowd for some familiar figure, someone she could talk to. Then she saw him. The goofy smile, the lean, yet somewhat muscular body, the carefree pose, the eyes that looked like they were dancing. And he smiled at her, actually acknowledging her presence

As much as she wanted to deny it, she actually had a fleeting, childhood crush on him. Right now, he probably didn't even know it was her. She was far from the recognizable Poppy. Then again, that could be a good thing. She needed a reason to make Jerome angry, Alfie was standing there, obviously tipsy, and she was unrecognizable and, she daresay, hot.

Stay calm, collected, and move like a sex bomb. After male engages in eye contact, walk over to where he is, but do not make direct contact. Let him do that. She had learned this all from Miranda when she took it upon herself to teach Poppy how to master the art of flirting.

They already had established a brief glimpse. So far, so good. Acting as casually as she could, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and strolled over directly next to him, leaning against the bar, pushing her chest out, tilting her head back.

She found herself feeling jittery, but not from fear. The feeling felt horrible, a shock against her spine. Then she felt a tap at her shoulder. A triumphant smile splayed across her face. Her plan had worked. Trying not to look too excited, she turned ever so slightly towards him, putting on what she hoped looked like an innocent face.

"Hi," he started rather awkwardly. That was Alfie for you: rather awkward. It took all her might not to laugh out loud. A twenty year old man was getting tongue tied over a girl he had barely noticed at high school. Yes, this would be good. The only other time he had ever gotten like this with a girl was when he was ever graced by Ms. Millington's presence. This was truly an honor.

"Oh, hi there," she batted her eyes at him, assuming the identity of an American country girl. One of her only talents was to do accents, why not make us of it now? He was under her spell. Honestly, she felt a little bad for exploiting him like this, but from the corner of her eye, she could see Jerome, seething in his spot.

"So, you here alone?" She responded with a curt,' mmhmm' before giggling once more. Playing up the whole character was key. "What's your name?" Poppy asked, now biting on her index finger.

"Alfie Lewis, and yours, madame?" Shit. She hadn't thought of actually coming up with a name. Poppy Clarke. Clarke. Clarky? Clary? Clarissa. It was good enough for now.

Shyly, she started, "My name's Clarissa Smith."

"Oh well, Clarissa Smith, would you like to dance?" He extended out a hand which she gladly took. After asking him if he really knew how to dance (memories of his attempt at the chicken at senior prom came to mind), he proclaimed that maybe a lass like her could teach him. Yes, he was tipsy beyond belief.

Standing up is scary if you think you're gonna fall

Like a Humpty Dumpty, 'fraid of falling off the wall

I say if you ever want to know what's going on

Gotta keep on rockin baby till the night is gone

They started to do a sloppy waltz, dancing in time with the soft music pulsing throughout the club. Their slow dance soon turned into them just messing about, spinning her around like a little girl. The spinning mixed with her pre-show dose of alcohol were not much for her, considering she believed that at any moment, she would land butt first on the floor.

In fact, she almost did, but was held above the ground in Alfie's arms which had caged her. And here, though she wouldn't admit it, she felt surprisingly safe.

Her cheeks flushed a bright red. She knew. She could feel it. Being Poppy, she attributed this merely to the fact that she was a great actor and that she was just fitting the bill for this role so very perfectly. He seemed to take notice of this and hoisted her back onto her feet.

His hands were placed awkwardly on her waist, and she could tell they were hovering slightly. "You know, I really like you," her voice reverted to an English accent, but she hoped her whisper helped to disguise it. She noticed that he was now looking into her eyes.

His gaze was fixated on her. It was so concentrated, his eyes full of passion and fire, that she felt stuck to her spot. There was more pressure from his hands, pulling her closer. Exactly what she wanted. Such a word minstrel, she told herself, just like Jerome.

Jerome, stood at the bar, watching her with complete and utter disgust. They were rocking slower now, her head against his chest. His heart beat was lulling. She wanted to stay there. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and leaned in and kissed her.

This was all going faster than she suspected. She didn't interject, or pull away, but just stood there, smiling into the kiss. Two great things came out of this: Revenge, and the best kiss of her life.

~thisisalinebreakyousee~

The sun on her cheeks awoke her. Her body felt pleasantly numb and tired. Last night, she thought. One of the best nights of her life. Score one for Poppy. Her eyes still adjusting to the light, she surveyed her surroundings, expecting to have woken from an elaborate dream, safe and sound in her room.

The room was considerably clean, white, and beautiful. This was not her room. Her room was purple, clothes everywhere on the ground, with various stuffed animals in a corner. Turning her head, she saw him, Half-horrified and half-gleeful beyond belief. Worse, She realized she wore no clothes, only covered by the blanket, and yet he slept like an angel.

"Shit!"

On and on and on

Keep on rocking baby

'Til the night is gone

On and on and on

'Til the night is gone

On and on and on

Keep on rocking baby

'Til the night is gone

On and on and on

'Til the night is gone

~thisisalinebreakyousee~

So, that's that oneshot done. I had planned to do a whole morning after, but I wanted to finish this and get started on the other oneshots, and considering most of you guys won't read this one because it's not really a known shipping, I thought, eh. If you do read this one though, please read and review so that I can feel happy and everything. Here are some questions you can answer in your review:

Do you think they should get a new Nina or should Mara take over the role as Chosen one like in Das Haus Anubis?

Who don't you want as the new Chosen One?

Who is one character that you hate that everyone else likes?

Um, I know Amara is supposed to be next but I changed it to Jamber because I had a great idea of what to do, so all you jamber fans out there, the next one is for you!

~kels