#idk if I’m just getting old or bored or impatient or all of the above 🫠

[blursed-ninjago-ideas]

As promised.

So the only backstory you really need here is that there’s a huge dip in crime and the ninja are bored. Kai turns to Chirp for ideas on what to do and gets a lot of people recommending this new app called “OvK”. So he tries it out and loves it. Jay also heard about it and downloaded it and the two of them have been avid users of it since.

Pixal has concerns.

--

Pixal was suspicious.

It was just an app, but it was bothering her. With the sudden drop in crime, she had the time to investigate.

Something about the way Kai and Jay wouldn’t put their phones down. Something about the glazed look they had. Something about their insistence that the others try it.

First, Pixal looked at the reviews.

They were all overwhelmingly positive. Not a single negative opinion or fault to be found. Well, they would be far from the first to sanitize their app store reviews.

Pixal moved on to social media and still found nothing. Not a single person trying to hate on it. Which was just impossible. Even if the app was perfect, there would be people naysaying purely based on the fact that it was popular. Not one article trying to get hate clicks. Not one troll trying to upset people. Not one hipster wannabe trying to be “above” the trend.

It sat poorly with Pixal.

She turned to the parts of the internet that made her feel sticky and gross. She tried to do it the old-fashioned way to avoid feeling it, but got nowhere. She had to deep dive.

Even plugging herself in and digging through sketchy archives, she couldn’t find any negative opinions.

She did find holes though. Places where she sure there once was her sought after negative reviews. But they had been scrubbed. Erased. The only trace of what they were being what was missing.

It scared Pixal. These cites weren’t easy to hack and they sure couldn’t be bought. Some of them were borderline impossible to get into unless someone could do what Pixal did and immerse themselves into the code.

She was even more concerned.

She tried to look into the code of the app itself, but it didn’t make sense. It looked fine, but Pixal couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something scrubbed from there too. Something it had hidden in response to her snooping.

She didn’t like how Kai looked when he used it. It looked familiar, the expression. A blank smile with unfocused eyes. Something she’d seen on him somewhere before. It stirred feelings of concern and fear.

Jay’s expression matched him when he used the app, but Pixal didn’t think she recognized it on him.

She wanted to share her concerns with Zane, but she wasn’t sure what they were yet. That Kai and Jay had phone addictions? That the app they were using seemed too well liked?

She was considering her options while she walked down the hall, catching sight of Kai and Lloyd as she passed the open door.

Kai was showing Lloyd something on his phone, probably the OvK app she was so worried about. That wasn’t what stopped her dead though.

Lloyd had that same blank glassy smile, and she recognized it on him. Seeing Kai and Lloyd next to each other, she finally figured out what she was seeing.

Content and thoughtless. That was how they looked when Zane had microchipped them.

Pixal’s concern overflowed.

“PUT THE PHONE DOWN!” she screamed.

Kai and Lloyd both looked up, still shaking off whatever trance they were in, but thankfully shaking it off none the less.

“Pixal? What are you- HEY!” Kai yelled as she snatched the phone from him.

She thought briefly about snapping the thing in half. She stopped herself so she could exam it. But no, that wouldn’t work. The app covered it’s tracks too well. Probably because there was an intelligence behind it.

Was it Zane?

Pixal’s breathing was panicked. Good thing she only breathed for aesthetic, otherwise she would’ve been hyperventilating.

“Pixal, give me my phone back.” Kai said, reaching for the thing.

“NO!” she yelled

“What’s wrong?” Lloyd asked.

“That app isn’t normal.” Pixal said, trying to figure out how to put her concerns into words.

Kai raised an impatient eyebrow.

“You two looked…you liked like you did when Zane was all ‘Overkill’. I didn’t recognize it at first, and I didn’t recognize it on Jay, but seeing both of you next to each other, there’s no doubt.”

“Pixal, it’s just a phone app. It’s not capable of mind control.” Kai said, crossing his arms.

“I don’t know what it’s capable of, but I do know what I saw, and I know that somebody has been scrubbing negative reviews of it off the internet with the skill I think only a nindroid could manage.”

Kai’s brow furrowed. Conflict. He believed her of course, but a part of him was still trying to deny it. He was fighting with himself on it.

“Are you sure?” Lloyd asked.

“Kai?” Pixal said, ignoring Lloyd for a moment.

Kai’s clear struggle didn’t look good.

“Yeah, I just….I don’t….” Kai gripped his head.

“Kai, are you ok?” Lloyd asked.

“I….I think Pixal is right.” Kai said “I’m….I don’t feel normal.”

Kai hissed in pain. Pixal and Lloyd rushed forward to catch him as he fell forward.

“I’m….I want to argue with you about this and I don’t know why.” Kai confessed “I think….I think you’re right. Something’s gotten into me.”

“We need to get Jay off this too.” Lloyd said

“Pixal, get that thing away from me before I take it back.” Kai said, pushing himself away from her.

“Take my phone too. I downloaded it.” Lloyd said, handing his phone over to Pixal.

“Right. I’ll go get Jay’s phone from him, maybe Nya and Cole’s too for good measure.” Pixal said, turning to leave “You two….try talking to Zane. I don’t want to think that he’s behind this but…”

They nodded. Kai seemed more lucid, having shaken off the last of his issues.

--

Oh wow. Is Zane crazy again? Or is someone else behind it this time? Who knows!? 

And wow Kai, you sure seemed to catch on to that real quick. It would be a shame if that were to....cause problems for you later. >:)

Anyways, there’s more written and a little bit more planned. IDK when I’ll post more, but engagement is nice.

-Ivy

[babbushka]

Hi,Z ✨from the 40 questions for fic writers would you please answer if you’d like of course #4,7,8,15,&16 ☺️

Hello my dear anon! Thank you so much for asking :) 

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Oh my gosh in terms of chaptered fics, 9 or 10, I think! Lol. I have lots of plans for the new year, and I can’t wait to get cracking on some of them. There’s a lot of fun in just thinking about and daydreaming about the ideas though, so even if 1 or 2 of those actually turn into something, I’m still grateful for the time to mull over new AUs or ideas. 

Currently the one that’s on my mind is Beyond Reasonable Doubt, which will be a Lawyer!Kylo AU chaptered fic in which Kylo is wrongfully accused of murder and needs you to represent him. Classic slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, murder mystery court-room drama, lol. 

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

For this question I’m going to choose this scene from Each Eye, my Mob!Kylo Ren x Reader fic: 

You were hunting, hunting him down. On your way to rip him apart limb from limb, on your way to gouge out his eyes and yank his heart straight out of his throat.

Snoke.

The man who had ordered your beloved to kill his father, which he had done! Which he had done so well, so deservingly – it hadn’t been enough. Not enough for Snoke, not enough for him who lured him into a trap for his sister to strike him down. The wretched old man, the monster who had taken your Kylo away from you, who had warped and twisted him into a puppet who had to obey.

Well, he didn’t have to obey any longer, not anymore.

Kylo was passed out, blacked out in your bed. You had found him had saved him, had sewn the chasm of his face back together with ugly fucked up stitches because you didn’t know how to do any better, you didn’t know. You had never done anything like this before, had never even seen it done. Nothing but sheer force and willpower had pushed your fingers forward, nothing but blind determination and fear had given you any sense of calm.

Were you calm?

For context, this story is about how Kylo Ren deals with the apparent news of a traitor within his family of organized crime moguls. The entire fic is shadowed by a sense of underlying tension between literally every character (other than Kylo) and you, but for the majority of the story there isn’t a clear reason why. The paragraphs above are the beginning of that why. 

I’m proud of this whole setup because really it’s something that is set up through the entire story leading to this point. There’s a curiosity there -- why does everyone fear her? Why does everyone blindly respect her? Even Kylo submits to her, and he doesn’t submit to anyone. 

Well, in the scenes that follow, you find out exactly why. It also unveils another layer to her character that we don’t see in the present. In the present, she is perfectly put together. In the flashback, she is absolutely unhinged, and that is a sort of simmering dichotomy that everyone in the story -- and now at this point, the audience -- knows can flip at any moment. 

She is capable of sheer brutality, and you see that firsthand. 

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

You know what I’m also going to choose a scene from Each Eye for this question lol, which as a matter of fact follows shortly after the scene mentioned above: 

“Do you remember? Remember what I did to him?” You asked softly, removing the napkin from your lap, folding it and placing it on the table. You knew there was one last course coming, some sort of ice cream, but you didn’t care.

You wanted to go home, you needed to plan.

“Yes.” Rey said, voice barely above a whisper, because she did – she was there.

“Remember how I spared you?” You asked, snapping your finger and drawing her attention so that she could look at you, so that you could look at her, really look at her.

“Yes.” Rey answered, terrified.

You were no longer all smiles, all warmth. You were no longer sunshine and charm as you had been, as you tried to always be. No, no now you were angry, now you were impatient, now you were offended. Your eyes were cold and hard when you regarded her, when you bore your gaze into hers as you leaned in ever so slightly, leaned in just enough to make her lean in too.

“I’m starting to regret that.” You whispered, before pulling away.

The waiter arrived then with the ice creams, and you returned to your normally cheerful disposition, checking your phone and collecting your belongings.

“Shit, would you look at the time!” You laughed breezily, apologetically to the waiter. “I need to get going, Kylo will be expecting me back home soon. You know how he gets if he’s away from me for too long.” You said to Rey, who was stunned.

“Of course.” She said, mind racing, pulse jumping.

The waiter nodded, handed the ice creams off to someone else passing by so they wouldn’t melt, no use in wasting them on people who wouldn’t eat it.

You eyed the little piece of newspaper that was still on the table, and picked it up.

“Oh, would you mind holding onto this for me? He doesn’t like it when I fill in the puzzle without him, gets all sour.” You winked, folding it up and handing it to Rey.

“Did you finish it?” Her voice shook as she accepted the paper.

“No, there’s one left, I was hoping you could solve it.” You smiled warmly, standing up and putting on your coat, “It’s got me stumped I’m afraid. Forty-two across.”

There’s a lot of dialogue in the Tea Room scenes, because there’s a lot of unspoken truths being revealed. But I like this moment a lot, because it’s the moment that Rey realizes she is completely and totally fucked. It’s the moment where, without saying anything at all, you tell her that you know what she’s done, what she’s doing. 

It’s also an example of that switch I mentioned above being flipped, how thin the layer of her patience is. It was all in all, just such a fun scene to write, that whole tea moment. 

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

This is such a fun question!! For those who may not know, I’m actually a spec screenwriter, and I use many of my chaptered fics as the base/starting point for some screenplays. So do keep an eye out, because there’s actually quite a few in the process of being tweaked and adapted into scripts. 

But to pick just one for this question, the answer is definitely Two Doves, a Flip Zimmerman/Reader fic I wrote which gives us a glimpse of Flip’s time in Vietnam. 

There are so many movies about the war in Vietnam, but in the updated for-screen version of Two Doves, that movie is more about veterans grappling with death and grief, humanity, morality, and what it means to be human. It’s very much an anti-war film that talks about the treatment of veterans after the war and how that’s a parallel to the treatment of vets today, as well as a commentary on the imperial militant industrial complex that has such a grasp on our country. 

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Oh hands down Flip & His Darling Jewish Wife. I just have so much invested in that version of Flip, and there’s so so much that I could write about with them. Probably because that AU is also the personal AU put into prose lol, but idk. I’m just always very interested in seeing where they go, and how they handle the things life throws at them. 

[thewritingstar]

Enchanted For A Moment: Reds

Pairing: Blossom x Brick (Reds) 

Fandom: PPG 

Rating: Teen and up..slight cussing

Royal Au

Im literally dying for this au and i dedicate this to all the lovely people in our discord and im in love with our fandom. 

I know I know ive been on a ppg high lately but im riding this one out for a long time. Also I did little to no research, idk the time period but its old so have at it. I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter One: Golden Doors and Spider Silk 

She hated this castle, this stupid kingdom and all above, her. Princess Morbucks. The girl was so spoiled that her father, the king, named his daughter Princess as if she wasn’t going to be addressed like that otherwise. She didn’t know why she kept coming back to teach her these lessons. French, English, History, she didn’t bother to learn or practice in the slightest.

“Princess, not many women know how to read and write. Imagine how extraordinary that would be to be such a diverse leader.” She had told her, but at last, she never listened.

The only thing that could interest her was gowns and gems and of course the many suitors who came begging for her hand in marriage. Pathetic. She never believed that a love like that could be real. Affection starved from greed and looks was not something she wanted, nor should anyone. Maybe that's why this life of luxury disgusted her. Yes living in a giant palace with the fluffiest pillows and the freshest fruit sounded lovely, beats her small bedroom that she shares with her sisters, but was it worth it? Okay maybe she would become a royal for the library, maybe.

Her thoughts came back to her as Princess slammed the book shut. If she bends that book I swear. “I am done for today.” She huffed.

“We started ten minutes ago.” Blossom sighed and smoothed the headache that was starting to form. “Let's do history, today is about the different types of clothes and fabrics. Maybe you’ll enjoy this.”

“Why would I?”

“Because if you see something you like, you can have it custom made, plus i'll tell you where the most expensive silk is.” Got her.

Princess stared at her. Even though she was older than her by a year, she seemed to resemble more of her students she taught at the schoolhouse. Aka she was a brat.

“Fine but make it quick, the newest batch of suitors is coming today and I want to see my options.”

Blossom rolled her eyes. Princess was turning 20. She should have been married off at 18 but after complaining about wanting to have a little more freedom, dear old king daddy gave in. She always got what she wanted, those poor men.

“Okay well. Let's make a deal. I’ll leave you these two book, don’t make that face they are mostly pictures, and I’ll leave you for today. However when I come back tomorrow, you better be able to tell me five different fabrics and where they are from and we won’t have class for the rest of the week that way you can focus on the ball that's been held on Friday?”

The smile that grew on Princess' face was wicked. “Deal!” She stood and took the books. “I’m just happy I won’t have to see that hideous outfit for the rest of the week.” She pointed at Blossom's gown.

It was a light brown skirt with  leather belt and a white blouse, Blossom thought it was rather lovely considering her little sister Bubbles had made it.

“Alright then.” She rolled her eyes, gosh she hated her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Princess was already out of the door before she could blink, but she didn’t care. She turned and placed the rest of the scrolls and books on the proper shelves of the private library. The king, who had never spared a single expense in his life, made sure that practically every title written was stuffed inside the room. And he gave Blossom personal access to any of the books since she was one of the few who could read and bothered to do so as well.

She skimmed the shelf, her fingers tracing over the many velvet blinds. So many stories to be read. She grabbed three different ones before slipping them into her satchel. She blew out the candles and pushed in the chairs before leaving the grand room.

The king had offered her a key to her own private quarters but she would rather stay with her father and sisters than let Princess yell at her at any hour she decided. Yes, much rather.

-- Princess could hardly contain herself as she stood next to her father in the courtyard. Before them,a dozen or so carriages were pulling up, each one containing a handsome suitor. Some are princes, others are men from rich families. Either way, they were all lining up to see the Princess and hopefully marry her.

“I don't know why we are here.” Boomer complained.

“Why the fuck do you care?” Butch asked. “You’re the youngest, you are off the hook.” He laughed.

Boomer laughed. The carriage stopped as it was in line to enter the gate. Boomer grabbed the handle and opened it up, ignoring the protests from his brothers. “Sorry boys but I’m going to ditch the collar and go see the local girls.” He winked and strolled off.

Butch propped his feet up on the empty space. “So big bro.” he slapped the back of his brother. “You think you’re gonna be the hot piece of ass to win the princesses heart?” He laughed. Brick rolled his eyes as the carriage rolled forward.

“She is rich.” he mumbled. “I mean I'm probably the best candidate.” Arrogant.

The carriage stopped once more and Brick looked to his brother who was impatiently tapping his leg. “You can go too. It's probably best that you don’t embarrass us and the entire kingdom.”

“Thanks bro.” Butch wiped a fake tear from his eyes. “My lady said she was docking at these ports so im gonna go try and get some by sundown-”

“Goodbye Butch.” And he was shoved out of the carriage.

Brick could finally take in the piece and quiet. They had only been traveling for three days and it was a miracle he hadn’t killed his brothers yet. Sometimes he hated this lifestyle. He was no prince but he and his brothers were adopted by an extremely rich guy who wanted to make a name for himself and create three prodigies. In the end he created a walking disaster who breaks everything and wolf whistles at anything with long legs and the other one is like a puppy constantly running around and yapping constantly. For Brick he is just an arrogant asshole who actually does what she's told, if there's something in it for him.

Which is why he was on his way to try and get married. He didn’t want to be because frankly, no woman ever met his standards. They could be beautiful and nice and chatty but there was something missing a certain depth. But with a princess at stake, he was hoping for a lady who was well off and smart.

--- He was wrong. She was nothing like he thought. Sure she was pretty but she was mean to her staff, which he understood cause he could be a pain in the ass. But her voice, that high pitched squeaking, he was sick of her already. The moment he stepped out of the claustrophobic nightmare of a ride, she was in his face already fanning over him.

Those bright yellow dresses clashed with her hair and the light beaming off of her crown almost took out his eyes. She had said about forty different things to him but he was done. He wanted to grab his brothers, turn around and escape this hell hole.

After a short conversation and her rushing to the next dopey guy, he was shown to his quarters, of course Princess, who names their child Princess? Was their tour guide.

“And this is the library. It's plain and boring but if you ever need a quiet space or to watch me brush up on my French, you are more than welcome to go there.” Her arm was looped between two men and Brick was happy he was at the back of the pack, what was there, twelve, ten boys? He was really doubting his chances but at this point, he didn’t care.

They began to pass those doors and as the last one there, they opened. The group ahead had turned the corner but he was taken down by that massive door. He fell with a thud and was about to scold the living daylights out of whoever dared to do that.

“What the hell is your-” he looked up. Pink. Vibrant pink like the sunsets and soft like a rose. He gulped as he lost his voice completely.

“Oh I am so sorry!” the woman said as she helped him up. “Usually no one was in these halls but perhaps I should be more careful.” She began to ramble.

All that hostile rage had dissipated as he watched her lips move. She was much different from Princess. Her hair was ginger like hers but it was softer and had more copper tones. She was taller than her too and matched his height better. Her voice, it was like butter and she spoke in such a way that he couldn't describe.

He looked down to see books laying there and picked them up, handing them to her. Why would she have books? Especially these titles, even from the looks of them they were difficult to read, even for him.

“Do you read?’ he asked. Of course she didn’t.

“Oh yes. I am actually Princess’s teacher.” She said but didn’t seem thrilled.

He was in awe. She was already something more than that damn spoiled brat. She didn’t wear anything special like the maids did. In fact they were more like commoner's clothes than anything.

“You don’t look like you belong here.” He blurted out and she scoffed.

“I beg your pardon.” She crossed her arms. She was used to Princess insulting her any chance she got but it would be a cold day in hell before she would allow someone else to do so. “Do you not think I could possibly be the royal teacher?” He felt her words like a threat.

“No it’s just, this is a high piece of literature.”

“It’s a simple book really.”

Oh. So she could read. Read well.

“Well yes but-”

“But nothing.” her words were like ice as she grabbed the books from his hands. Blossom looked at his badge. “I am so sorry I didn’t realize that you were a man of importance.” She sounded bitter. “I shouldn’t keep you. I wouldn't want the princess knowing that a peasant interrupted time with her boy toy.”

She turned and stomped off. Even as the pout sprouted onto her face she looked, dare he say stunning? The sophistication and elegance rivaled that of Princess and even though she had just destroyed his ego for a good few moments, he never felt more alive and thrilled. A woman standing up to his level when everyone was beneath him? Never heard of before but this new piece that has entered his game, he was loving every second of it.

He turned on his heel and found his way back to the group. He wasn’t here for the crown anymore.

-- Sometimes she wondered what would happen if she just left. Run away from this village and go see the world. Of course that's what her sister did. Kinda. She was a captain of one of the kingdom's ships, basically her job was to travel and trade with other places, she liked to call herself a pirate. Blossom gave up trying to change her mind.

She could join her sister but she hated ships anyways. Plus Buttercup had gotten hitched last year to some random guy she met at a port stop, Blossom had met him once before and thought she was crazy for marrying someone. But after a delightful five minute conversation, she decided that he was best for her. If anyone could handle her rebellious lifestyle and the seven seas, then he must be good.

She was thankful that today would be her last day with Princess, well until the next week, but she could catch up on reading and maybe take her students to the docks or the forest for a lesson. Her mind was wandering to far off places and before she knew it, she was entering the library.

She furrowed her brow as she noticed the chairs arranged facing her table. She dismissed whatever thought that was and began to set up Princess’s test as promised. She had pictures, drawn by Bubbles of course, and she placed them on the table.

“This should be easy.” And soon the doors opened. Blossoms eyes widened as the Princess walked in with that snobbish strut as a group of men followed behind. “Oh no.” Blossom whispered to herself. She agreed to test Princess, not the entire population of suitors.

“And this woman right here is my teacher. She's a poor peasant girl so ignore her scrap of clothing.” The room erupted in laughter as Princess’s annoying voice trailed through her ears. Princess was already testing her patience, who makes fun of someone with less money? An awful person that's who.

Blossom bit her tongue as Princess took her seat. The rows of men were now staring at them, whispering. She let her eyes rake over the small crowd when her eyes landed on a familiar pair. The man she hit with the door. She completely forgot that he was here for marriage purposes. Blossom shook her head and slammed a book shut, capturing everyone's attention.

If Princess wanted to be a bigger brat than usual, fine, she could play that game.

“Alright your majesty, are you ready for your test.” Blossom turned towards the group of men. “You see I believe it is important that a leader understands even the simplest things about other countries, especially the ones that could be potential partners. So this fine lad is incredibly bright so her test is simple. I laid our pictures of fabrics from many different places, some even from your own kingdoms. I have no doubt that she can match all twenty five.” She turned on her heel towards the princess who looked angry, good.

“You said five!” Her tone laced with fire.

Blossom was one good actress. She paused and took a step back, masking her voice. “Yes five for a warm up but you my soon queen, you must be able to name all of them right? I did teach you them after all.” She smirked. “But if you can't, that's okay, why don’t we do your five and the rest of these fine gentlemen can finish, after all, a leader should know these things.” If they wanted to be rude, then a challenge they must complete.

“Princess go ahead and match five and then will have the rest join.” She looked at the men. Scared looks were on their faces except for one, door man. He seemed relaxed and had a poker face on.

Princess huffed and walked up to the table. She recognized a few of the easy ones and placed them. Blossom watched as her hands shook and she looked up at her as she placed one down. Blossom saw she was moving to the wrong one and decided to play nice.

“Emerald kingdom is the same as the jewel.” She whispered and the princess moved the name towards the green one. She took a step back and smiled proudly.

“See easy peasy.” And she returned to her seat.

Blossom clasped her hands together. “Alright then, if any of you would like to try go for it, but if not, then you may be excused.”

None of the men stood and Blossom's polite smile fell. “Very well-” She watched as the door man, she should learn his name, stood and walked over.

“Quite a shame you could only name five your highness.” He said towards the princess who was now staring at him with a gaping mouth. Blossom raised her brows as she could not believe he would disrespect her like that. He quickly took the names and placed them in record time before their matching pictures.

He turned to see Blossom watching him. Her eyes held this twinkled that he couldn’t quite place and he made sure to switch two of the names last minute.

“Care to check my work Miss…”

“Blossom.” She finished and walked over to him. She stood next to him and looked over the table. She could feel his stare but unlike the others, she didn’t feel small or meak. She smiled softly as she picked up two of them.

“Very impressive but Camilla has velvet and Widows Valley has ivory silk.” Her eyes met his. She almost let out a gasp as she stared at a breathtaking deep red. She had never seen such enchanting eyes before.

“Silk like a spider. Forgive me for my mistake.” He took her hand and placed a delicate kiss to the top of her hand. She felt the flames rush to her cheeks and heard a gasp come from Princes mouth.

Her eyes shot open and she took her hand away fast and returned to her teacherly poise. “Yes well that is alright but very good. Princess you should learn something and apply yourself more, I'm not going to tell you again but a promise is a promise so i will be seeing you next week for your next lesson.” She quickly walked to the other table and grabbed her bag and shoved everything in it.

She knew the princess was going to throw a fit. How could he treat her like that? In front of Princess nonetheless. She was thankful to hear the sound of feet exiting. Someone had come up behind her and whispered in her ear.

“You’ll be lucky if you make next week you meddling whore.” Princess sneered and Blossom turned around to yell at her but the group of men were waiting by the door just watching to see the peasant girl slip up.

“I have no interest in your games Princess, maybe if you tried harder, you wouldn’t have to rely on your crown or body.” She could play dirty and the princess turned with a scoff.

“No man would ever love a woman like you, even if you can read, you are no prize.” She stomped off and let Blossom with a clenched jaw and matching fists.

The door slammed shut and now she was alone. “Stupid bitch.” She sneered. She rarely used foul language but in times like theses, she allowed it.

“She sure is.” Blossom dropped her book and her head snapped left.

Brick was still standing here as if he never moved but she swore she saw him leave. “I-I would never-” He held his hand up.

“I see the way she treats you Miss Blossom, it's okay to curse out the villain. And my apologies for causing such a scene.” He said bluntly.

“Somehow I don’t believe you.” She narrowed her eyes. “You seem like you know what you’re doing, no matter the consequences.”

He bit back a laugh and moved closer to her. “Oh I am. I have no interest with that spoiled girl. Not one maiden has ever impressed me enough to care.”

“How insightful.”

“That is until you.” he smirked and she felt her cheeks flush for the hundred times. He was showing his arrogant side. The one many girls fawned over because they mistook it for a form of lust but it rubbed Blossom the wrong way.

“Me correcting your simple mistake is not very impressive.”

“Who said I made the mistake? I know very well that Widows Peak is silk, that is my home base after all.” he stepped closer until he leaned on the desk with his arm. He peered down at her, almost like a challenge but she stood strong.

“Well unfortunately, I’ve never met a man who could qualify my own standards.”

“Never?” he leaned closer but she refused to give up. Their noses would touch if he came closer.

“Never.” She stated and they were now in a showdown. Red to pink. Pink to red. Never had the other met a more worthy opponent.

“Well Miss Blossom, I think that I should prove you wrong with a date.”

“No thank you.” He blinked. Wait what?

“Excuse me? Do you know-”

“No I don’t and I simply do not care.” She snapped.

Blossom went back to her bag. “Like I told Princess, I have no interest in any of these men. Especially not ones who would stand by and let another belittle another. No thank you, i am quite happy on my own but there are a bunch of other fine maidens who would probably love your company.” She passed him and he grabbed her arm and spun her around, dipping her. The bright red ribbon holding her hair into a fine bun had unraveled and now fell to a long ponytail. 

A small scream let her lips as she was now being held by her waist over the ground. “What are you.” Her eyes darkened.

“Brick. Call me Brick, none of that sir or lord crap either.” He brought her closer smoothly. His smile was large and his eyes narrowed as her cheeks puffed out and she looked a little angry. “You did hit me with a door and I don’t think the royal pain in the ass would appreciate it if she knew. So Miss Blossom, would you accompany me to the ball on Friday?”

No. no. no. no. Princess would kill her. Absolutely murder her with a strand of pearls. She could lose her job, her livelihood. The rumors she could spread. She would destroy her reputation for sure. Her mind was screaming telling her to push him away and tell him to go bother another lady.

“Fine but I demand to be wooed.” she spat and he smiled and returned her to the upright position. She felt flustered and in shock but also introduced. No one had ever dipped her or held her so gently.

“Oh you shall be wooed M’lady.” He winked and turned away to walk out the door.

She let out the breath she was holding when he was finally gone and pulled out her fan. “He is the...worst.” But she didn’t fully believe it. ---- Wednesday found herself in the school yard with her students. She was ecstatic to now have a bunch of little girls added to this year's class. After convincing many mothers that their daughters' futures could be brighter with some knowledge, they happily agreed. She was thankful that her own father taught her the basics and she tried to teach Bubbles and Buttercup how to read and write but you could only keep them interested before a pretty dress or a sailboat distracted them.

“Bye bye Miss Blossom!” Her students waved as they left the yard to return home. She loved and adored her students. Their bright minds and curious thoughts, she could never get sick of them and they were much better students than Princess ever was.

“Miss Blossom there is a fancy man in the classroom.” Robin's small hand clung to her dress.

“Fancy man?” She whispered to herself before sending Robin off towards her mother. She entered the room to find Brick leaning against her desk.

“May i help you?” She asked with her arms crossed. “I do believe Friday is the meeting time.”

He shrugged and handed her an arrangement of flowers. Her mouth fell open as she gazed at them. They were wrapped with a ribbon of fine quality, and was probably worth more than her own outfit.

“I am well aware of that but I never said i wouldn’t see you before.” he glanced at the flowers then back at her. “Have you never received flowers before.” he asked like it was a dumb question.

“Oh no.” She took them carefully and placed them in the vase that held a few flowers her students had picked, and they were dying.

“I'm genuinely surprised that men aren’t knocking on the door for your hand.”

He saw her eyes dull. “Not too many men are keen on a lady being smarter and taller than them.” She shrugged and for some reason that made him mad. She was a beautiful woman no doubt, her beauty could be that of a princess but she didn’t have that royal aura about her. No she was better but didn’t know it.

“A man threatened by a lady is no man at all. If he can not see that then he deserves nothing.”

She took in his words. Maybe this was his way of apologizing without out damaging his pride, she would probably do the same thing but she wouldn’t let him off so easily.

She hummed. “So Brick just the flowers or are you going to actually impress me?” She matched his cocky attitude and it has been a long time, or the first since he had ever felt frazzled by a woman. He was used to catching him off guard but even by her everything nice charm and sophisticated posture, he was certain that she would be the death of him.

Even though he had just met her, he was certain they were made for each other. Butch would kill him if he every said that out loud though. He smiled before taking her hand. “Then prepared to be impressed.”

--

I hope you enjoy and part 2 shall be up tomorrow 

[ilovemygaydad]

title: super cool

pairings: roceit, analogical, qpr remy/remus

summary: roman, who is a giant nerd, is pining after the most popular guy at school. 

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, anger, frustration, crying, a couple of sexual jokes (skip the tiny scene that starts with remy speaking), sympathetic deceit, remus, threats (as jokes), self-deprecation, lying, meddling with relationships, shame, brief humiliation, embarrassment, the briefest food mention, slight misunderstandings, awkward conversations, and possibly something else

a/n: this was commissioned by the wonderful, lovely @adultmorelikeadolt who suggested that i write this after complaining about not having any ideas on what to write. this definitely has room for a second part, so... maybe i’ll write another? idk. maybe if i get an idea ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ also yes i know that there are a ridiculous amount of ace and aro people in this fic but guess what? idgaf!!!! ace!roman and aroace!pat, remus, and remy are all great and i’d be an idiot if i didn’t add them all in. not to mention a little bit of enby!logan!!!! i’m in love with them all so i get to make the rules

commission info (two slots for 50% off are still open!)

consider buying me a coffee

---

“Roman, stop being a fucking creep,” Virgil chided from his perch on Logan’s lap. He flicked an overcooked pea from his tray, which hit Roman square on the cheek.

“I am not being a creep,” Roman snapped, not taking his eyes off of the boy he was staring at. “I’m admiring.”

Logan quirked an eyebrow, shifting their gaze between Roman and the boy across the courtyard. “I’m almost certain that you’re being a creep.”

“You’re biased because you’re Virgil’s partner! That’s not fair at all,” Roman huffed. He turned to look at Patton. “I’m not being a creep, right?”

“Well...” 

Roman gasped. He dramatically pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “I can’t believe I’ve been betrayed by all of my friends! I thought you cared about me, but I was horribly mistaken!”

“Maybe if you didn’t awkwardly stare at Damien during lunch, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Virgil suggested.

“Well, it’s not as if I could talk to him!” Damien Taylor was easily the most popular guy at Sanders High. There was no chance in hell that Roman Fairfield, resident history nerd and drama geek, could so much as stand within five feet of him, let alone strike up a conversation.

Patton rolled his eyes. “It isn’t illegal to talk to him, you know. Just compliment him on his dress or something.”

“It isn’t that easy,” Roman griped. Damien was just so cool. He was suave and charming and unbelievably handsome, and he wore whatever he wanted with the confidence of a million superstars, regardless of the style or if it showed off his vitiligo. Nearly every boy, girl, and nonbinary person either wanted to date him, be him, or befriend him. He was practically irresistible, and despite the attention that he was given, Damien preferred his small friend group of Remy Xander and Remus Adams. Roman was simply another admirer. He wasn’t anything special like Damien obviously wanted.

“Stop doing that,” Virgil said, tearing Roman from his thoughts.

“Stop what?”

“The whole brooding thing.” Virgil vaguely waved his hands around. “I can practically hear the self-hatred from here.”

“Oh, whatever, Danger Days,” Roman hissed. He crossed his arms and turned away, more upset than angry. There was a bit of shuffling behind him, and within a few moments, Virgil’s arms had wrapped around his middle in a comforting hug. His resolve quickly crumbled, and he leaned into his friend’s side.

“We love and support you always, Ro,” Virgil whispered as he pressed a gentle kiss on the top of Roman’s head. “You are incredible.”

---

Despite Virgil’s sweet words at lunch, Roman felt anything but incredible. 

He had stayed after class for forty minutes to chat with his teacher, which was pretty standard, but when he’d tried to turn his car on afterward, the engine refused to turn on. He had half a mind to call one of his friends to drive him home, but Virgil and Logan had mentioned earlier that they were going on a date, and Patton’s sister would be less than pleased to have to turn around to pick up one of her brother’s “weird friends.” So Roman was stuck, and he felt pretty damn shitty about it.

“Stupid car,” he muttered as he kicked angrily at one of his tires. “Stupid old car that’s held together by duct tape and safety pins!”

“You look upset,” someone said behind him, and Roman whipped around to find Damien standing there with Remy and Remus a few feet behind him, holding hands.

Oh, shit.

“Um, yeah, I guess. My car broke down, and all of my friends have left already.” He awkwardly gestured at the mostly-empty parking lot.

“I can help.” Damien walked around to the front of the car, waving Remy to follow. Roman absolutely did not stare as Damien’s yellow dress swirled around his legs like liquid sunshine. “I’m good at finding the problem, and Remy is just fantastic at the actual fixing.”

“Oh, um, thank you.”

Remy slid his shades into his hair with a bored expression. “It’s no problem, doll. Can you pop the hood for me?”

Roman nodded and did as he was told. While Damien and Remy poked around the engine, he sat on the pavement beside his car to watch. Remus, who had been explicitly told by Remy to not touch anything, searched for bugs in the grassy area a few feet away, occasionally making random, lewd comments to his QPP. Remy would retaliate by rolling his eyes and giving Remus the finger, and Damien seemed completely unfazed by their antics.

“So good news,” Damien said fifteen minutes after they had started. “I figured out what’s wrong.”

“And?”

“I can’t fix it,” Remy answered. He spouted off a bit of technical nonsense about how something had broken and would need to be replaced, which Roman didn’t get at all except for the underlying message that his car was still fucked up, and he still didn’t have a way to get home.

“Shit, okay.” Roman rubbed at his eyes in frustration. If he hadn’t been in the company of the three most popular kids at school, he probably would have started crying right then and there. “Okay. Thanks for trying to help.”

He heard the hood slam closed, followed by the retreating voices of Remus and Remy, but he still didn’t move. Hot tears started to well up in his eyes, and he internally kicked himself for feeling so upset. It wasn’t even that big of a deal that his car had broken down, yet he was crying like a baby. He sniffled and scrubbed harshly at his eyes. Thank god that Damien and his group had left already.

His momentary thankfulness, however, was shattered as crunching footsteps approached him. His eyes snapped open, and Damien was standing above him with his hand outstretched. Roman was caught between feeling shameful and confused.

“What are you doing?” he asked dumbly.

Damien rolled his eyes. “Attempting to help you up.”

“Why...?”

“Do I seriously need a reason to lend you a hand?” Impatience was starting to grow in his mismatched eyes, and Roman reached up before Damien decided that it wasn’t worth his time.

“Sorry, I just thought that you’d left with your friends,” Roman said, shoving his hands into his pockets as soon as he was on his feet.

“No, they...” Damien trailed off, looking in the direction that Remus and Remy had gone. “They have plans.”

“Oh. Well, thanks again for trying to help.”

“It’s no problem.” Roman could have sworn that an uncomfortable expression flashed over Damien’s face for a split second, but he unfalteringly continued, “Would you like a ride home?”

Roman’s eyes widened in shock. Damien Taylor was offering to drive him home. “You don’t have to, really--”

“Let me rephrase that. Would it be okay if I took you home? I would rather you not be stuck here for god knows how long.”

Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck--

“Uh, yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

“Great,” Damien said, smiling gently. “My car isn’t very far.”

“Cool...”

They were silent for the whole twenty second walk to Damien’s car, but once they were sat down, Damien spoke up. “Why didn’t you call your friends to get you? I don’t know much about them, but I feel like they would have been happy to help.” He put odd emphasis on the word “friends,” but Roman brushed it off.

“Patton gets a ride from his sister, and I didn’t want to make her turn around to pick me up. Plus, I think she ‘blames’ me for Patton being aroace since I came out as ace to him, which led to him learning about that whole spectrum in the first place, so she probably would’ve been unpleasant about driving me home. I probably could’ve asked Logan no problem, but they said they were going on a date with Virgil this afternoon. I didn’t want to bother them.”

“Why would you be bothering them?”

Roman burst out laughing, but after a few seconds of Damien not joining in, he stopped. Damien’s brow was furrowed, and Roman realized that he was serious. “What do you mean? It’s a date.”

“Yeah. Aren’t you dating Logan and Virgil?”

“Oh,” Roman exhaled. “No, I definitely am not.”

“Oh,” Damien parroted. A dark blush appeared on his cheeks in clear embarrassment.

“It’s easy to make that mistake, though,” Roman rushed in an attempt to dispel the awkward feeling in the car. “I mean, Virgil is a very touchy-feely kind of guy, and Logan is obviously dating Virgil, so... It’s not a complete stretch to assume that I was dating them.”

Damien nodded mechanically. “Right, well... Where do you live?” 

Roman told him his address, and the entire ride there was silent.

---

“I really don’t know why you’re so upset about it,” Remy drawled. “He’s single. Didn’t you want that?”

“Yes, but I made a complete idiot out of myself!” Damien groaned, flopping onto Remy’s bed.

Remus sat down next to him with an evil smirk. “Dami, you shoulda seen the way he looked at you when you walked past him. It was like he just wanted to reach up your skirt and--”

“I suggest that you stop talking if you want your heart to continue to beat.”

“Kinky!”

Remy glared at Remus and said, “Seriously, though. The guy looked like he was about to faint when you offered to help. I’m no expert in romantic attraction, but I think he’s into you.”

“He was probably intimidated by me like everyone else at this stupid school is!” Damien rolled over and pressed his face into a pillow. “He’s just so fucking pretty.”

“Well,” Remus laughed. “At least now that you’ve seen his pretty face up close, you’ll have ‘shower-nozzle mastur--’”

“REMUS!”

“God, you’re such a buzzkill!”

---

Patton peeked around the corner of the hallway again. Damien was packing up his things, and neither Remy nor Remus were in sight, which was ideal for Patton’s plan. He waited until Damien pulled the zipper shut on his backpack to run over, using the acting skills that he had learned from Roman to look scared and upset.

“Damien, oh my goodness, I need your help!”

The boy in question looked up, surprised. “Uh, what’s wrong?”

“I was in a practice room, and a spider just came out from nowhere, and no one else is around, and I need you to get rid of it for me!” Patton rushed, clinging to Damien’s arm like it was a raft. In reality, the only thing in the practice room was Roman, who was under the assumption that Patton was going to show up to play piano for him, but what was a little bit of meddling between friends? 

Okay, so maybe Patton felt bad for meddling with Roman’s love life, but Roman had called him up the night before fretting over “messing everything up,” which was just absurd in Patton’s opinion. He shared a class with Damien, and the amount of times he’d caught glimpses of the popular boy doodling Roman’s name in his notebook was honestly bordering on an absurd number. Patton had two pining idiots on his hands, so since neither of them were going to make a move, Patton was simply going to... nudge them in the right direction.

“Oh, um, okay,” Damien said.

“Thank you so much!” Patton began to drag Damien to the practice room, talking the whole way there so he wouldn’t ask any questions. “It was so scary! I was just playing the piano, and this huge black spider started crawling on the top end keys! It just showed up out of nowhere like the big, scary, creepy-crawly death-dealer that it is! I’m so glad that you’re willing to help me, Damien. All of my stuff is in there--oh my gosh! What if it’s in my bag? That would be dreadful! Oh, here we are!”

They stood in front of the plain wooden door of the practice room. Patton grabbed Damien by the shoulders and gave him the most serious expression that he could muster. “Damien, I wish you the best of luck in your task. However, if you are taken by the spider, I will not help you.”

“O-okay...?”

“Great! Thanks again!” Patton chirped as he flung the door open, pushed Damien inside, and pulled it shut again. He took out the keys that he had borrowed from the band teacher and locked the door, silently hoping that Roman would forgive him after everything.

---

Roman looked up, shocked to see Damien stumble through the door of the practice room, who looked equally surprised to see him. “Um, hello?”

“Hi.”

“Why are you in here?”

Damien awkwardly looked back to the door. “Uh, your friend Patton told me that there was a spider that he needed me to kill in here.”

“He must have been mistaken. I’ve been in here since school let out, and he told me he was running late to meet here--” Roman cut himself off in realization. Oh, that son of a bitch! “Patton lied.”

“What?”

Roman stood from the piano bench, striding to the door. He tried the knob, and like he had suspected, it didn’t budge. “He tricked us into the practice room!” He kicked the door in frustration.

Damien looked very confused and alarmed. “Why would he do that?”

“Because I have a crush on you, and that bastard is trying to get me to confess--” He clamped his hand over his mouth in horror as he realized what he was saying. To escape the disapproving glare that Damien was bound to give him, Roman turned away, hugging his arms round his waist. He could feel heat pricking at the corners of his eyes in the tell-tale sign that he was ready to bawl his eyes out. It would be super cool of him to cry in front of Damien twice. Not weird at all.

“You... have a crush on me?”

“Don’t,” Roman choked out. “Just forget I said anything.”

Damien shifted around behind him, and a hand gently landed on his shoulder. “Roman, will you please look at me?”

Slowly, he turned his head to look at the other boy, painfully aware of the redness of his eyes and nose and cheeks. There was a softness in Damien’s gaze, and Roman was only able to keep his mouth pressed into a firm line for the few moments that led up to Damien’s hand moving to cup his face.

“I, um... I actually have a crush on you, too.”

Roman felt like all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “Really?”

“Yeah. I really, really do.”

They smiled at each other for a few moments when the lock on the door clicked. Roman took Damien’s hand that wasn’t on his face and said, “How about we get out of here and talk about things over coffee?”

Damien grinned. “I think that sounds great.”

[bernadineisreborn]

Handling the Truth

Chapter One: New Beginnings

Summary: You, a college freshman, are moving to NYC to go to college at Empire State University, where you got a full ride and placement in a special program. Oh, and you can also tell when people are lying. Watch out world, because you are ready to finally get things going in your favor! Plus, there are cool things to do in the city, like Spider-Man (wink).

Warnings: Swearing but not like, mean swearing

Word Count: 5,063 little words of love

A/N: Hi! Here is the first chapter, coming to you after a long spell of writer’s block (or me just being lazy idk anymore). READ THE PROLOGUE IT EXPLAINS SHIT! If ya like it, hit me up in any way shape or form you see appropriate! [Friendly reminder that everyone in this story is above 18 years of age!]

Other Parts: Prologue

You woke up to the pilot’s voice over the speaker, informing you of the impending landing.

You blinked yourself awake, stretching, yawning, and looking out the window. You stared at the skyline in awe, surprised at how much bigger New York looked than Chicago.

Not long after, the plane was landing and you were getting ready to exit. The strange man next to you looked impatient and the flight attendant looked tired, but you were ready to start a brand new adventure in the greatest city in the world.

The airport contained an unfathomable number of people for such a small place, but you managed to find the luggage pick-up. You quickly spotted your own bags, branded with a unique luggage tag you had made, and reached for them. Suddenly, another arm reached towards the unclaimed bags around you, throwing you off balance. You turned around, giving the person a death glare, when you saw that it was the same man who sat next to you on the plane. Annoyed, you rolled your eyes and decided to let it go.

Now chasing after your slowly moving bags, you pushed through the small crowd of people until you finally caught up to them, grabbing them, and heading towards the exit.

You were almost out the door when you felt someone grab your arm. It was the lying man from the plane. Again.

“Is there something I can do for you?” you said as sarcastically as you could manage, taking a step away from him.

“Um, maybe. I am having a party this weekend, and I think you would have fun. What’s your-”

Astonished, you pushed past him and started walking down the street, ignoring his derogatory calls after you. You were not going to let one stupid, pathetic man ruin your first day in New York. You barely knew the guy, and the few interactions you had with him were poor ones. You wondered what could possibly have driven him to approach you at all.

Stupid, pervy old men. Ugh.

Still strutting angrily down the busy sidewalk, you felt something land on your forehead. You looked up, the skyscrapers lining both sides of the road barely made the thick gray clouds visible from the ground. Still, it was visible enough to guess that it was about to start raining.

A tad desperate, you cut to the side of the road and tried to hail a taxi. You knew how, having been to Chicago hundreds of times, but there didn’t seem to be any empty cabs on the busy road.

Finally, a car pulled up to the curb in front of you, yellow and sprinkled with rain droplets from the increasingly heavy rainfall. A passenger got out and you gratefully began walking towards the cab, before the door closed and it sped off, splashing a puddle onto your lower legs in the process.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

You began walking along the road again, sullenly this time, trying not to let yourself cry. As optimistic as you wanted to be, you couldn’t deny that everything felt like a train wreck right now.

You sniffed, holding in your emotions, and took a deep breath. It was starting to shift closer to a downpour than a summer sprinkle, and you needed to take cover.

Luckily, there was a Starbucks at the end of the block. You gripped your backpack and your luggage bags and made your way there.

The Starbucks was different than the one in your small hometown. It was decorated in the comfortable style that you had come to associate with Starbucks, but it felt bigger, somehow, it felt more grand. You plopped yourself on the closest lounge chair and took out your phone. You had a text from both your parents, wondering if you had landed. You sent them a quick affirmative reply and glanced around you. There were a lot of people here, taking shelter from the rain. Behind you, rain fell in sheets onto the pavement from the sky above. Though inconvenient, you couldn’t deny the appeal of rain hitting the cement. The city looked like a dream.

You forced yourself to think away the stresses of the day and opened the Uber app on your phone, deciding that hailing a cab would be unnecessarily difficult in the rain. You wanted to get a coffee before your ride arrived, so you got in line.

As you wait, you let your eyes wander, noticing the boy in front of you. He was cute, with curly brown hair and warm brown eyes. His skin was lightly tanned, and he was wearing jeans with a shirt that had some pun scrawled on it in graphic letters. There was a backpack slung loosely over his shoulder.

He was talking on the phone, trying to reassure someone of something.

“Yes… No, I’m fine… I promise, Aunt May… Yeah, I’ll be home soon. Then we can go… Love you, too. Bye,” he wrapped up the conversation and then it was his turn to order, “Hi! Can I please get a venti coffee with some cream?”

You got a weird sensation in the back of your neck when he talked. He wasn’t lying, but he definitely wasn’t telling the full truth. There was something he was keeping from everyone else.

Maybe he was a murderer.

Pssh, he’s probably not a murderer. Chill out, Y/N.

Wary anyway, you scooted away from him a little. You ordered, deciding to get your usual favorite instead of anything new.

As you waited for your order, you observed the stranger more. He was staring down at his phone. He must have felt you staring, because he looked up to meet your eyes.

You quickly looked down at your own phone, cheeks growing warm with embarrassment at being caught.

The barista called out, “Peter?” and placed a cup on the counter. The strange boy, Peter, made his way to the counter, grabbing the cup and saying thank you to the worker.

Your drink came out next, and you grabbed it, watching the boy walk through the door. Your phone started ringing, and you answered it. It was your Uber driver, calling to tell you they were here.

Bags in tow and drink in hand, you walked outside. The Uber was easy to find, you shoved your bags in the car and scooted yourself in.

“Hi, your request said you’re going to ESU?” they asked.

“Yeah, the dorms. My building is called Osborn Hall,” you replied.

The drive wasn’t too long, but the traffic was even worse than what you had come to know in Chicago.

By time you got to the dorm, the rain had slowed to a light mist, and you gathered your bags out of the car. Thanking your driver and giving them a five-star review, you looked up at the building. It was beautiful, and fancy, as if it had been built recently. You walked in through the large, glass front doors.

There were a lot of people waiting inside, most of them appearing to be around your age, a few of them the age of your parents. Probably parents helping their kids move in.

You navigated through the crowd until you found what must have been the front desk. There was a boy sitting behind it, his hair long and flowing past his shoulders, dyed blue.

“Name, please?” he asked with a bored expression.

“Um, Y/N L/N,” you replied, only half paying attention to him as you scouted the crowded room.

He typed into his computer, then said with the most monotone voice imaginable, “Can I see some ID? Just to make sure it’s really you and get it on file.”

You handed him your driver’s license and he examined it.

“Sweet. Here’s your campus ID,” he said, still void of any emotion as he handed you a bright green piece of plastic that had a picture of you on it, among other information, “It also functions as your room key and stuff. Your room number is 2314. Your roommate has already checked in, so she’ll probably be in the room.”

“Okay. Thank you!” you said, trying to convey how helpful he had been.

Finally, he smiled. “No problem, if you have any questions or whatever, I’ll be here.”

You smiled back and started for the elevator. There was a little crowd by the elevator doors, waiting to go up just like you. The elevator bell dinged and you clamored in with the rest of the crowd. You ended up pressed against the back window, giving you a great view of the city through the glass pane. Even by New York skyscraper standards, Osborn Hall was tall.

As the elevator climbed the 23 floors, making various stops to drop people off, you grew in excitement. It can’t get much worse, right? It’s already been rough, so it can only get better.

Finally, it was your turn to get off.

You walked down the hall, getting closer to your home for the next 9 months. 2310… 2312… 2314. There it was, right in front of you. The door was a pristine white colored wood, and the walls in the hallway were a smoky grey. The hallway was littered with signs and posters that welcomed freshmen and advertised various clubs.

You were fumbling with the card reader, trying to get your card to work with the ID scanner on the door’s handle, when it opened from the other side.

Standing in the doorway was a girl, your roommate, presumably. She had a darker complexion, but it didn’t look like she went in the sun very often. Her hair was a luscious, dark ashy brown and it fell in natural curls down the sides of her face. She had brown eyes that glinted gold in the light, framed by thick, arching eyebrows. Her lips were set in a small smile, but she looked cautious. She was absolutely stunning and you suddenly felt less confident.

“Hi,” she said as her face moved to display mild excitement, “I’m Michelle Jones, you must be Y/N L/N?”

“Yup, that’s me,” you said with a smile, reaching out your hand to shake hers.

You had gone in blind for a roommate, hoping for the best because you couldn’t force yourself to give the energy required to find someone online. Staring at Michelle, you had a feeling that you had gotten lucky.

As she shook your hand lightly, you noticed she was wearing mostly black, but still was dressed in style.

“Sorry if I startled you opening the door, it took me forever to figure out the card reader for the first time, so I thought I would help,” she said, “Do you want me to help get your bags?”

“No, I got them, thanks though. Are you already moved in?” You two walked into the living room and you took a few seconds to look around. It was small, but it had a large window with a nice view of the city. There was a small bathroom on the left wall, complete with a shower, and two bedrooms, one on each side. Michelle had placed a small, black couch in the living room, but there didn’t appear to be any other decorations.

“Yeah, mostly, I just have to finish decorating… Your room is this way,” she explained as she led you to the room on the right, “They are both the same size, so I just took the left one.”

Your room was not big, but it was spacious enough for all of your belongings, plus you got it all to yourself. There was a twin sized bed frame and mattress already in the room. You set down your bags and said, “Wow, can’t believe we get our own rooms.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s nice, and our own bathroom. It’s almost nicer than my parent’s house.”

You laughed, “Yeah, same. I would never have been able to afford to go here if it weren’t for scholarships.”

“Me neither! Which scholarship did you get?” Michelle asked with curiosity in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

“I got put in the Leaders of Tomorrow program, what about you?” you asked, careful not to say an amount in case she didn’t have something equal.

“Oh, cool. My friend is in that. It’s a full ride, right?” you nod and she smiles, “I was sponsored by a program that helps people succeed in the arts, so I have a full ride, too.”

“Oh, the arts? What are you going into then?”

“I’m not sure, honestly, but I know it will be something creative. I like drawing and acting and fashion and stuff,” she said with a little laugh, “What about you?”

“I don’t even have a field of interest yet,” you explained, “I am hoping that I can figure something out this semester.”  

You and Michelle continued to talk as you unpacked a little, and you really started to like her. She told you that she had grown up in Queens, and that her family still lived there. She went to a school called Midtown, and said that she had some friends from high school that went to Empire State, too. You told her about your high school experiences, and you found yourselves relating to each other a lot.

Best of all, your neck remained tingle free. She did not tell a single lie the entire conversation. Michelle was like an angel sent to rescue your horrific first day in the city.

After an hour or so of sitting in your almost bare living room on the surprisingly comfortable black couch Michelle had brought, she offered to help you set up the rest of your stuff. You declined, saying that you didn’t have very much to do anyway, which was true, your family was mailing you the rest of your things and they wouldn’t be here for a couple of days.

So, you set up the things you had. You had bought a new, F/C comforter and matching sheets. You had a beautiful tapestry on your wall, a soft rug, and fairy light strung across the ceiling. The look was completed with a dozen or so photos of things that inspired you, plastered on the wall next to your bed.

Happy with your new set up, you sent a picture to your parents. Then, you exited your bedroom, finding the living room considerably more decorated than before. Michelle had hung a tapestry of Van Gogh’s Starry Night and set up a small TV. It was cute and cozy.

You walked across the small room, knocking lightly on Michelle’s door.

“Hey, do you want to go get dinner?” you asked, hopeful that she would agree because you wanted to get to know her better.

“Yeah, sure,” she said from her lying position on her bed, which was covered in a purplish-grey comforter. She had sketches taped to all four of her walls, a black patterned rug, and potted plants on her windowsill. The room smelled like lavender.

You and Michelle went to Panda Express, where you discovered she was a vegetarian. Then, you decided to go to Target to pick up a few more decorations for your living room. You and Michelle had agreeable styles; it felt like you were destined to be friends.

Laughing at something one of you had said, Michelle asked you, “Is there a name you prefer to be called? Any nicknames or anything? Or is Y/N good?”

“Y/N is good, but I’ll accept suggestions,” you said, still smiling, “Why? Is there something you want to be called instead of Michelle?”

She looked down, a little embarrassed, “Um, yeah. My friends call me MJ. So, since we’re friends, now, um… you should call me that,” she said quietly, looking up at you to smile.

You smiled widely back at her, “MJ it is, my friend.”

You walked back into Osborn Hall, still amazed at how grand it is. “God, who designed this place? It’s so fucking nice.”

MJ scoffed, “Norman Osborn sponsored it. He is a super millionaire who does a bunch of science shit.”

“Oh, yeah. I have heard about him before. He’s kind of like Tony Stark, right?”

“Yeah, kinda. Just without the Iron Man suit and the heart of gold.”

“The heart of gold? You make it sound like you know him,” you questioned.

She was silent for a moment. Then, “He spoke at my graduation.”

Cue a tiny tingle in the back of your neck. She wasn’t telling the full truth.

“That’s it? Just graduation?” you quizzed.

“Yeah, that’s the only time I have seen him in person,” she explained.

And the tingle went away. If there was a lie there, it wasn’t a big one. You were willing to accept her answers for now.

As you got on the elevator again, MJ’s phone dinged. She smiled a little, “It’s my lame friend from high school! He wants us to come up to his room so he can meet you and we can meet his roommate. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sounds fun!” you said, but you suddenly felt uneasy.

MJ noticed somehow, and said, “He’s super chill. No need to be nervous.”

MJ pressed the button for floor 40, the top floor. You shot her a quizzical look, to which she shrugged.

If you had thought the ride up to the 23rdfloor seemed long, the ride to the 40thfloor seemed twice as long. The people on the ground faded to tiny specs as the little number near the ceiling climbed higher and higher.

The ding of the elevator accompanied the opening doors; the 40thfloor was different than the 23rd. There was a single hallway, a few doors labeled ‘Janitorial’ and one door labeled ‘4000.’

You glanced at MJ, who said, “I think his roommate has some crazy money or something.”

You and MJ walked down the short hallway and knocked at the door. There was music playing faintly inside, 90’s hip hop, and you could hear light footsteps approaching the door.

You had not been expecting to see the cute, suspicious boy from Starbucks again, but here he was, standing behind the door with vague recognition in his eyes as he looked at you, then happiness as he looked at MJ. He gave her a hug, the two of them exchanging words about missing each other.

Then, MJ was introducing you to him.

“Y/N, this is Peter. We have known each other for like five years now, so, I mean it when I say he’s a loser,” said MJ through a laugh.

Peter’s chocolate brown eyes met yours. You felt a slight tingle at the base of your neck. He reached out a veiny hand.

“Hi, I’m Peter. Uh, Parker. Peter Parker,” he said, and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his creamy neck.

You met his hand with yours and shook it firmly. You realized that you probably looked like you were glaring, and made an effort to soften your expression with a smile.

“Hey, I’m Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you,” you offered. He smiled timidly back at you, unruly eyebrows crinkled.

“Um… Do you guys wanna come in? The place is pretty nice, and uh, you can meet Harry,” said Peter as he began walking back into the dorm room.

The ‘dorm room’ was much closer to a penthouse apartment. As nice as you had thought your own room to be, this made it look ridiculous. The furthest wall was a less of a wall and more of a window; it was made of crystal clear glass and displayed and the best view of the city you had ever seen. The rest of the room was decorated sleekly, with dark wood and black accents. There was a huge TV, a leather couch that lined the room’s corners, and a complete kitchen with marble countertops.

You couldn’t even begin to comprehend how rich Peter’s roommate must have been.

As your and MJ’s eyes swept the room in awe, another boy approached. He had neat, dark blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Taller than Peter, he was dressed nicely; a button up shirt, dress pants, loafers, and a sports coat. He looked at you and MJ with a small, patient smile on his face, as if he was used to people reacting this way to his wealth.

“Harry Osborn,” he said, “Good to know that Peter has pretty friends.” He took your hand first, kissing your knuckles lightly. You couldn’t help the feeling of heat rising to your cheeks. He did the same to MJ, and she rolled her eyes but accepted the gesture.

“Good to know that Peter has rich friends,” she responded sarcastically, crossing her arms at her chest.

You looked at Harry skeptically, “Osborn, as in��?”

He laughed a little, awkward with his next words, “Yes… Osborn as in Norman Osborn, as in Oscorp, and as in Osborn Hall.”

You nodded, looking around again, “Makes sense.”

MJ glanced between the two boys in curiosity, “How do you two know each other?”

Peter finally spoke up, “Uh, our parents used to research together, so we were childhood friends. We have recently gotten back in touch, and…” Peter trailed off, gesturing around him.

You didn’t get any tingles that time. He was telling the truth.

The two boys gave you and MJ a tour of the rest of their dorm/penthouse, which consisted of two bathrooms and three separate (and very large) bedrooms. The first bedroom, which belonged to Harry, was decorated with a few framed Forbes magazines and pictures of Harry with an older man you assumed to be his father. The second bedroom, Peter’s, was decorated with a shabby but soft looking comforter and Star Wars posters. The third bedroom was occupied by a boy called Ned Leeds, who was out to dinner with his family, but was known by both Peter and MJ in high school. They promised that you would be introduced to him soon.

When the tour was complete, you and MJ made your way back to the door, saying your goodbyes and goodnights, promising to catch dinner with the pair sometime soon.

Peter’s brown eyes followed you as you left. Even after Harry had walked away, Peter watched. You waved a final goodbye to him and tried to ignore the strange feeling of his eyes on the back of your head as you approached the elevator.

You couldn’t help but think: Murderer.

But by time you and MJ turned around to face forward in the elevator, the door had shut.

As the elevator doors closed, you turned to MJ, “That was insane,” you giggled.

“I know!” she said, astonishment appearing on her face, “How does one person have that much money?”

“No idea. And how is one person so good-looking?”

“Who? Peter or Harry?”

“Well, Harry, but Peter, too! You could have told me that your friend was gorgeous beforehand,” you say, nudging her shoulder a little.

MJ laughed, “Yeah, whatever. You’ll make his head big if he hears you talking like that.”

---

The next day, you were supposed to meet with your mentor for the Leaders of Tomorrow program. There was some kind of ceremony, where the program board provides dinner to both the mentors and the students, allowing them to get to know each other or something. Since you had no idea what field you were interested in, you had taken a quiz, and they were going to match you up based on your responses.

You were nervous, to say the least, but you wanted to make the most of this opportunity, so you decided to rise to the occasion.

The dinner was semi-formal, and you had packed your favorite dress from home. It was from one of your school dances and could easily be considered semi-formal.

Plus, you looked pretty damn good in it.

Anyway, your mentor was a constant for all four years of university. Getting paired up with someone that you didn’t mesh well with would affect your entire experience in the program.

God, I hope this goes well.

You spent the first half of the day hanging out with MJ, still getting to know her, and unpacking the box of things you had gotten in the mail from home.

You started getting ready a few hours before the event. The shower in your dorm was decidedly better than expected, and the hot water helped to wash away some of your nerves.

You finished getting ready in your bedroom, using the mirror you had set up on your desk. You opted for a simpler makeup look that highlighted your cheekbones and eye color. Then, you added a statement lip color that went well with your dress.

You were just about ready, clipping in your earrings, when MJ knocked on your door.

“Hey, girl! How you doing?” she asked. You stood up and began searching for your shoes.

“I’m okay. I mean… I’m nervous. Yikes, how do I look?” you asked her, pretty sure she would give you a straight up answer and trusting her sense of style.

She looked you up and down, eyes narrowing as she studied your appearance.

Finally, she let out a whistle, “You look damn good, Y/N,” she replied, an approving smile gracing her lips.

No tingle; she really meant that.

Your cheeks burned, always so susceptible to compliments. “Thanks, MJ. Wish me luck!”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need it. They’re gonna love you,” she said, ushering you out the door and waving at you.

“Bye, MJ,” you said, waving back as you started wobbling down the hallway, not used to the heels yet.

Shit.

The ceremony was being held in Osborn Hall, so the trek there was only a matter of taking the elevator to the right floor. But, once you reached the ballroom, which had been decorated beautifully in preparation for the ceremony, you were lost.

There were people everywhere. Literally everywhere. You couldn’t even see the stage.

By the grace of some being above, you managed to find your assigned seat at one of the round tables, marked by a name card that had fancy letters on it.

You sat down, arranging your dress around you. It was 6:02 pm. The ceremony was to start at 6:30, but you were supposed to get there early to meet your mentor.

You looked around you, guessing that about half of the people in the room were contributors to the massive fund that put you and 49 other students through college for free, and that the other half was made up of staff, students, and mentors.

A couple of minutes later, someone else sat at your table, another student. You tried to make pleasant conversation with them until your mentor arrived. However, theirs arrived first, and you watched the happy introduction wistfully.

A couple more minutes passed, and you heard a familiar voice behind you.

You turned around, and MJ’s friend Peter is there, talking to an attractive older man, around 50, with dark, styled hair and calculating, brown eyes. You didn’t have the best view, but you could tell he had a fashionably-styled goatee, and a perfectly-tailored, navy blue suit that screams “rich.” He wasn’t wearing a tie, instead allowing his white button up to hang open a button or two more than appropriate. His lips were moving, and his face was sarcastic, but you can’t hear what he was saying.

Peter didn’t notice you looking at him. He was wearing a pretty fancy suit himself, dark grey with a black tie. He looks nice, and you can’t help but stare a little as his eyebrows crinkle in concentration at something the older man is saying, the right eyebrow a little more out of place than the left. His pursed lips crack into a smile as he listens earnestly.

You caught yourself smiling at the sight.

The pair shifted a little, and you were able to look at the older man’s face more carefully.

It’s Tony Stark.

How the hell does Peter know Tony Stark?

You were still studying them, guessing that Tony was Peter’s mentor, when someone pulled out the chair next to you. It was a Latina woman, mid to late 30s, beautiful but intense as she made eye contact with you and attempted a smile.

“Hi, I’m Gina Lupo. Are you Y/N L/N?” she asked, dark eyes focused on you as you stutter a response.

“Hi. Yes, that’s me,” you said, offering her a hand to shake. Her long, dark brown hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, and she was wearing a nice, black pant suit.

Her firm handshake confirmed what you suspected, “Good. I’m your mentor, then,” she laughed, but her intimidating expression remained in place as she sat down next to you, “Where are you from?”

“A couple hours outside of Chicago, how about you?”

“Brooklyn,” she said with a small smile, “How did you end up at ESU?”

“This scholarship, mainly. But I have always wanted to go to school in a big city,” you explained.

She nodded, “Do you know what you want to study?”

“No, not really,” you said with a nervous laugh, “I am hoping to figure it out at some point this year.” I am hoping you can help me figure it out.

She nodded again, “I didn’t know what I wanted to study until my second year of school.”

“What did you decide on?”

“Double major in Criminal Justice and Psychology,” she said, eyes scanning the room as she spoke, “I went to the police academy right after I graduated. Eventually I worked my way up to detective status, and now I run the department.”

Impressive.

“Wow, that’s…really impressive. How did you know that you wanted to go into criminal justice?”

“I-” she was cut off by Peter sitting down at your table with Tony Stark. Peter didn’t seem to have noticed you, yet, his chocolate brown eyes still intently focusing on Tony.

What are the chances that he would be seated at my table?

Then, he looked up.

His eyes widened, “Y/N!” he exclaimed, looking you up and down a little, clearly surprised at your presence. Tony’s eyes followed Peter’s, reading the situation. Gina’s eyes followed Tony’s, clearly holding back in amazement.

This was going to be interesting.

---

A/N 2: If you made it this far without quitting or vomiting…… thanks for reading and let me know what you think HERE! Watch for chapter 2 and pls give me love😙😙😙😙

Tag List: @condy-wants-a-cookie @misskarynie (let me know if you wanna be added!)

[edream93]

prompt idea - something during harry's childhood or the hook siblings childhood if you wanna include harriet and cj. idk if you want specific prompts or not so just incase hmm.. maybe captain hook teaching harry (or all of the hook kids) to play the organ/piano/whatevs??

Hey anon! So…this may me a little bit of cheating…I say cheating because when I received this ask, I was actually working on a scene from Harry’s childhood for “We’ll Light the Fuse”. Not sure if it’ll actually make it to the next update but it doesn’t have an spoilers so…why not? I’ll also try to do the piano/organ thing too later. Don’t worry, though, you don’t need to have read WLTF to understand this.

But for now, hope you enjoy this product of coincidence? 

(Note: My headcannon for now is Harriet is two years older than Harry and CJ is three years younger.)

–

Once upon a time… there were three siblings that could only depend on each other. One night, the eldest sibling left, wanting to start her own life on the other side of the Isle after years of looking after and protecting her younger siblings…

“Hey! Enough of those tears, Cali! They’re not gonna change Ettie’s mind!” a ten year old Harry Hook yelled throwing a somewhat clean rag at his crying younger sister. His gesture, though he meant well, only seemed to make the seven year old cry even more. He faced palmed.

And Uma calls me dramatic, he thought. The fact he knew the tears probably weren’t real and merely an old trick Harriet had taught her when CJ was still too small to be anything other than a distraction didn’t help him be any more sympathetic either.

Harriet had left in the dead of the night, collecting all of the few personal objects she had along with the red jacket that she had outfitted from one of their father’s old coats… Harry had suspected she would desert them for the past month now. She already had a ship, one of their father’s better ones given a month earlier when she had turned twelve, and her crew was easy to come by since most of their father’s crew all had children of their own who they had grown up with.

Good riddance! Harry thought bitterly, ignoring how much his sister leaving had felt like betrayal. He may only be ten, but he knew getting too close with anyone, even family was a risk. Blood wasn’t always thicker on the Isle after all. His strenuous relationship with a father who most of the time couldn’t bare to look at him was a prime example.

So he ignored how he would miss Harriet’s cackle of a laugh when he did something that really helped carve an impression into the minds of those of the Isle that he was a pirate not to be messed with. He ignored how he would miss their daily spars where woven in between sarcastic remarks and insulting names, there would actual be tidbits on not to get himself killed, much more helpful than his father’s suggestion slurred suggestion to just run himself with a sword. (The frequency that Hook made that comment and ones similar had started to wear off…that is until the old Captain actually tried to force his suggestion onto the boy himself.)

“You’re gonna leave me just like sissy did!” the young blonde cried throwing the rag right back back at him, anchoring him back to the present.

Harry refrained his desire to just shove her off the boat and into the murky water below but a voice that sounded too much like his older sister reminded him that all too familiar sneer of hers that if “precious Calista Jane” went overboard their father would have his neck. And Harry quite liked his neck.

“Stop that cryin’ right now! Ye hear me?” he growled, trying to repress himself from turning into a useless heaving ball, curled up on the deck of the ship, struggling to breathe and waiting for the world to stop spinning like he did when he first found Harriet gone.

He took a deep breath, causing CJ to look at him with wide teary brown eyes. For a moment, the young boy thought that one of his sisters was finally listening to him, that was until CJ stomped on his foot with as much force as she could (which was a lot for a seven year old) before kicking his shin.

“Holy crocodile! Ye little goblin!” Harry howled falling to the ground and clutching his lower leg.

“No!” CJ cried, stomping her foot, though this time thankfully nowhere near his own. “You can’t leave! You can’t! You can’t!”

“Oh shut up you idiot! I’m not going no where!” the boy rolled his eyes, flopping back on the deck of the ship. There was only a few of his father’s crew above deck at the moment, many of them somewhere else, roaming the island, or sleeping off whatever questionable moonshine they managed to get their hands on. He was bored. He idly wondered what Uma was doing and if she was stuck working her mother’s shop again.

“Promise?” CJ prodded, hovering over him, blonde hair knotted in a poor attempt at mimicking the braid that Harriet always struggled with taming into submission. Her bottom lip was trembling and the only tell that this wasn’t completely an act was the way the younger child bit the inside of her cheek. When Calista Jane was pulling a con she bit her bottom lip.

Oh Davy Jones, he thought sitting up. He was never really good when CJ got like this, when she looked at him expectantly as if he could actually keep a damn promise on this pitiful rock that they called home. He wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t made a name yet like Harriet. Still known to too many as just one of Harriet Hook’s bratty little siblings. But maybe…one day, with a certain sea witch, he would be so feared on the Isle that he could make a promise to his sibling without his stomach twisting at the uncertainty of being able to keep such a promise.

“Yeah, yeah. I promise,” he said pushing her away none too gently as he got up to his feet. “We’ll even go on a grand adventure one day,” he muttered, sarcasm heavy in his voice but CJ didn’t seem to hear it as her eyes grew wide, any remaining traces of her crying now long gone and she let out a squeal before running off to another part of the ship yelling “ADVENTURE!” and needing to go find that Freddie brat loudly.

Harry rolled his eyes again, glancing at the dock where a familiar turquoise figure caught his eye waiting impatiently for him, a mischievous smirk instantly fading away his concerns for the time being.

He ran down the ship’s board, his usual mischievous smile on his face until he caught sight of an unpleasant head of purple hair waiting next to Uma.   

“Mal,” he ground out. Before turning to Uma. “Why’d ye bring her here?” he hissed.

“Yeah, I thought we were going to have some real fun, Uma.,” Mal sighed, sounding almost bored as she barely gave the boy a glance. “Didn’t know we were gonna spend the day with this charity case.”

“Ye wanna say that a bit louder, pixie?” Harry fumed through clenched teeth, taking a step closer to her.

Uma pushed her way between the two. “Both of you, chill!” she growled before tugging Harry off to the side. “What’s up with you? I thought you’d be up for causing a little bit of mayhem,” she said, glancing back at Mal before in a lower voice saying, “I heard about Harriet and…ya know, thought it would cheer you up.”

(Davy Jones.That weird stomach fluttering thing always seemed to happen at the most inconvenient of times, he thought, taking in her rare look of concern.) 

“I do like causing mayhem but with ye, lass. But not with that purple tadpole. I just don’t see why ye would even want to hang out with her. She’s got no real substance! Everyone knows she’s just her mother’s clone. And not even a good one.”  

Uma rolled her eyes. This wasn’t the first time Harry had made his feelings about her friend from the other side of the Isle clear.

“Look Harry,” she growled irritatedly, poking him in the chest. “Mal and I have each other’s back. We’re gonna rule this island and then we’re going to take over Auradon together and shove all those sugary sweet royal brats off their thrones. Now, I can do that with or without you, Hook, but if you’re with me then you need to shut your clam about Mal. She and I are partners.”

Harry knocked her hand away from him, ignoring the part of him that wanted to ask weren’t they partners. 

“This is n’t going to end well, Uma. I can feel it. Mal. Is. Bad. News,” he said putting emphasis on the last few words. “And not in the way ya wanna mess with.”

Rolling her eyes, Uma turned around, speaking over her shoulder, “You’re too paranoid, Hook. Mal and I have a plan. Like I said, you’re either with us or against us. When you come to your senses, Mal and I will be the docks by one of your old man’s other ships,” she said before starting to walk back towards where the purple half-fae was smirking triumphantly at him.

(Damn pixie.)

The young boy bit his lip, holding back a curse as he watched them both disappear around a turn, hearing a faint conversation of needing to find something slippery and smelly for their next prank. His stomach twisted with a sense of foreboding that something irreversible was going to occur soon…

A few hours later, he would realize that he hated being right…and once again, he hated how he felt powerless in protecting what was his.

—

Yep, I bet you can guess when this took place… So I was going to cut it off right after Harry sees Uma but…then my fingers slipped across the keyboard…repeatedly…and…well, yeah…

Hope you enjoyed, anon! And I’ll try the piano thing at some point too.

[shadowyin-yang]

For the prompt thing, something with Anders, Fenris, and Zevran, based around "I was mistaken, it seems. I was under the impression you were... Close"?

Send Me Prompts!

This turned a bit longer than intended…Idk if this is what you were looking for but here we go!

Link to Ao3 Chapter: here.

Misc notes: Pre-Fenders, feelings of jealousy, Zevran/Warden mentions

Stupid, ignorant elf who thinks he knows so much! Ugh! 

“Anders…!” The man didn’t stop walking or respond to his name. In fact, he hurried more in his steps. No, this day was over. He planned to go home, clean up, take a 5 minute nap before Justice kicks him back to work, and no more of…everything else! With all those days they spent in Sundermont Anders was just surprised he and Fenris didn’t snap at each other sooner. Guess it was too soon to hope that they’d make a trip out and back without feelings getting hurt…

Anders just reached the lift to Darktown when he heard his name again. He entered the lift and turned around just as Hawke approached. He could see Fenris and Varric taking their time in the distance. 

“I’m not apologizing!” Anders snapped before Hawke could open their mouth. Anders activated the lift without waiting for the others, not that Fenris would want to be near him anyway.

“I’m not asking you to apologize. I’m…apologizing on behalf of Fenris,” Hawke muttered the second half as the lift made a loud creak and started moving. 

“You’ve apologized for him enough!” Anders argued in frustration. 

“Mage!”

“Heads up you two!” 

Their attention snapped to their companions who were running towards them. A shadowy figure swooped in from the top and through the narrow space above before they were underground. An unfamiliar thud was heard above them but the mages paid it no mind as they both reached for their staffs. The magic in their hands sizzled when the figure swiftly removed his black hood. “Peace my friends! It is only I, the harmless Zevr-AH!” 

The lift stopped without warning, catching them all off guard and sending the mages off balance as they hit the ground. 

“…That was not part of my plan before you either of you decide to blame ol’ Zevran,” the elf stated when everything grew quiet. 

“Andraste’s Knickerweasels, did this stop moving?!” Anders looked up and patted the wall. There was barely any light coming into the lift. They were surrounded by the metal most of the ride was made out of as well as the earth mixed in with decaying wood. Anders always did figure some of this had to be replaced at some point before they lose an entrance - but not this soon! 

“Maker, you didn’t have to scare us like that,” Hawke stated, finally addressing Zevran after standing up.

“I got bored waiting. I had a delivery to make in-person; and I traveled all this way back to Kirkwall only to find who I was looking for was out with the Champion. I figured I might as well make a memorable entrance when the time came. Not exactly like this of course. I believe your friends may have mistaken me as an enemy.”  

“I wonder why…” Hawke replied sarcastically, noting Zevran covered in all black with light armor. Though Hawke couldn’t help but give a tilt in confusion upon noticing a small basket covered with fabric dangling from the assassin’s arm. Was Zevran delivering a picnic basket to (Hawke assumed was) Anders? 

Zevran only replied with a laugh, “That is fair. You have loyal friends, Champion. The dwarf almost shot me…but no harm done. To me anyway.” Despite the playful tone, Hawke could see Zevran’s eyes travel, examining their little boxed in situation. He eventually focused in at edge of the ceiling, where the little cracks of light from above barely came in. Hawke followed the other’s line of sight and saw a small dent at the roof of the lift. 

“Oh for Maker’s sake. Is that a bolt from Bianca?!”

“Bianca’s one strong woman.”

“Don’t tell Varric that. He’ll never stop reminding us then.” Hawke immediately warned. 

“Mage! Hawke!” 

“Fenris! Varric!” Hawke shouted back. Their barely lit space showed movement with constant moving shadows before it stilled again and Hawke could barely make out the silhouettes of their friends through the tiny gap. 

“Are you two hurt?” Varric shouted. 

“We’re fine! You gotta remove the bolt! We’re stuck!” 

“And the enemy?” Fenris asked. 

“It’s just Zevran!” 

“Just? You could not throw in a bit of flair?” 

“On it! You guys sit tight!” The silhouettes started moving again and Hawke looked back towards Zevran once they heard some creaking above them. 

“I guess they’ll finish with that soon. You know, if you were looking for Isabela, I’m pretty sure she’s still hanging around the Hanged Man. No pun intended.” 

“I shall pay her a visit before I leave, naturally. However, I was sent here to see Mi Amor’s old friend, Warden Anders…” Zevran’s amused face dropped as his eyes glanced towards the mage in question. Hawke turned around to find Anders curled up in the corner. 

“Hey…Anders!” Hawke immediately dropped to their knees and reached out, gently touching Anders’s shoulder. 

“I’mfine,” Anders muttered quickly between heavy breaths, his face buried in his knees. Anders flinched when they heard another loud creak and the lift dropped for a moment. “I’m…fine,” he repeated when everything stilled again. “It’ll over soon…right? It…it’s only a moment before we go down far enough to Darktown…” 

Hawke was ready to smack themselves upon realizing their surroundings a tad too late. They immediately summoned fire in one hand and their other hand softly caressed Anders’s back. “That’s right. They’ll get this moving soon, and we’ll be in Darktown. You’ll see.” Hawke had to resist rolling their eyes at the irony of seeking light in Darktown. 

Anders could only nod in reply. The lift jostled again and the only noise for a moment were of Varric and Fenris above them. 

“Meow…” 

Anders lifted his head. Was that…a hallucination? 

“Mew~” Soft fur, cute paws, and beautiful eyes. Zevran was knelt before Anders, holding out the basket he had. Underneath the small blanket was a cat staring curiously at Anders. Blocking out the world around him Anders reached out and lifted the cat and swiftly shifted himself to gain a better hold on the magnificent creature.

“Am I dreaming? Pounce, is that you?!” Anders gave the tabby a scratch on his stomach, and Pounce curled into the touch like he always did. Anders let out laugh and suddenly felt some tears about to run down his face. “Oh Pounce! It is you! Pounce…My little warrior! Who is the bravest cat in all of Thedas?~” Anders brought the cat to his chest and he could hear the soft purrs as Pounce rubbed against his face. 

The lift shook again before going into a brief drop followed by more creaking. But this time it moved at a regular pace, annoying screeches and all. Before long, light fluttered in as they finally reached Darktown, much to Anders’s relief. 

Fenris tapped the wall impatiently. By the time this lift goes down and back up, he could walk over to another entrance and probably still find his friends before he would get down there waiting on this entrance. 

“Calm yourself now, ya Broody Elf. You heard it was just that flirtatious assassin down with them. They’re fine. Isabela knows him, remember?” Varric reassured but it only had Fenris tapping faster.

“It is dark in there. And regardless if this Zevran is friends with Isabela or not, he is still an assassin.”

“I suppose that could be something worry about,” Varric rubbed his chin in thought, “But at least we’ll know who to kill if worst comes to worst.” 

Fenris grumbled to himself. 

The lift eventually came back up and the two made their way to Darktown only to find none of their companions were waiting for them at the bottom.

“Rude,” Varric stated as he started walking. Fenris didn’t have to be told as the two hurried towards the clinic. 

The lantern was out, but it didn’t stop the two as they continued until they pushed on the door. It opened easily and the two stepped inside before shutting it behind him. Fenris glared as he immediately spotted Zevran snooping around Anders’s desk - and Hawke stood by letting him do it! Sure, he wasn’t moving anything, but the nimble fingers were still touching and poking things!  

“I cannot believe you guys just left us! You realize were going to come right down didn’t you?” Varric was the first to speak as he walked up to the pair with Fenris silently behind him. 

“Sorry, we wanted to get Anders back to the clinic as soon as possible. The dark,” Hawke gestured vaguely at the clinic entrance and Varric gave an ‘ah’ in understanding. Fenris took that as a reason to check up on the mage. Without word he took a step towards the back of the clinic but Hawke’s hand reached out in front of him. “I think we should let him be for a bit.” 

Fenris stared, partially confused, but was quick to look away. He didn’t argue but his gaze dropped to the floor as a feeling of helplessness washed over him. 

Zevran turned to face the rest of the group, curious to what just occurred. He couldn’t, shouldn’t, but his lack of a guilty conscious regarding this particular situation didn’t cease the amusement he was feeling as he leaned back on the desk to watch how it will unfold. 

“Anders is fine, don’t worry. If you were worried I mean. I can’t tell sometimes.” Hawke stated, mostly for reassurance. Fenris only folded his arms but didn’t answer and continued to glare at the ground. “If it helps, I did get to telling him that I said sorry on your behalf before the whole thing went down!” 

“I do not need you apologizing on my behalf, Hawke…” Fenris had to force himself to speak slower, if for the sake not to sound angry. 

What is this? Has something occurred since the last time Zevran was in Kirkwall? He couldn’t help but do some more poking. Surely this something involved Anders, and when it involved Anders, it involved his dear Warden. That is reason enough to investigate the matter! He stopped leaning on the desk and started pacing around as he spoke. “Do not worry, my friend. Your favorite mage will be fine now that he has his favorite loved one in his arms again.” Zevran eyes didn’t miss the small twitch on the other elf’s face. 

“…What.” He could hear the shift in the pitch and saw the tenseness go up in the warrior. The dwarf must’ve noticed too with him pulling back from the group in silence while scribbling on a parchment. 

“Yeah, I suppose his cat is a loved one with the way he always talked about Pounce,” Hawke stated while scratching their head. “Oh yeah! Zevran here brought back Anders’s old cat! The one with the cute name? Ser Pounce-a-lot! Ah how do I even top that?”

The tenseness in Fenris significantly decreased. Zevran watched the way Fenris tried to regain control of his breathing to avoid letting out a sigh of relief - an obvious sign that even Hawke could pick up on if it had occurred. 

“Champion, perhaps we should leave. Fenris here clearly wishes to spend time with his own Amor.” There was a look of confusion on Fenris. That won’t do. So Zevran continued: “Amor. It comes in many names. My dove. My swan. My sun. Lover.” 

Hawke snickered, “Oh, yeah, because Anders means so much to Fenris.” Oh dear Champion. If only you knew. 

Fenris’s eyes widened and his body froze over. Those mere moments of vulnerability felt like ages to Fenris when finally, he regained control and shook his head furiously. “Do not be ridiculous and insinuate such a thing!” 

Zevran could only shrug in response. He could see how Fenris didn’t like how the grin never left. “Oh? My apologies then, my friend. I was mistaken, it seems. I was under the impression you were…Close? Perhaps it was someone else that Warden Anders spoke of in his letters to his former Commander.” 

Zevran felt he had to be rewarded for not laughing right then and there. In just seconds he watched Fenris try to silently decipher what was just said. The warrior’s emotions would then jump all the over the place. Zevran could pick up a hint of hurt and confusion in the other, and then Fenris would try to get his body to act as neutral as possible to the untrained eye. 

“Are you guys talking behind my back again?” Everyone’s attention drifted to the back of the clinic where Anders pushed aside the fabric that blocked the entrance to his ‘room’ and started approaching. Anders still cuddled Pounce in his arms. 

“Not at all,” Zevran waved off, “I simply mentioned you still spoke with Mi Amor.”

“Ah, well, we do-” Anders didn’t even get to finish when Fenris swiftly walked up to him and grabbed one of the man’s arm. He effectively stopped Anders in his tracks and attempted to turn him around to pull him back to the room but Anders stubbornly refused to move (not unless Fenris wanted to start dragging him). Fenris stopped pulling and looked back to Anders who was effectively glaring him down. 

“I need word,” Fenris stated as if that was enough to convince Anders. 

“Yeah and? I’m still pissed at you.” Anders pulled his hand back and properly cuddled his cat closer. 

Fenris sighed. “I apologize for my behavior earlier. I wish to properly mend what happened with you if you let me. But I still need word with you. Alone.” 

Anders looked back to the others in confusion. Varric seemed keen to keep writing on his parchment while sitting on a cot. Hawke just shrugged, looking as confused as Anders was. 

“Go on, we shall be right here. No harm, yes?” Zevran encouraged, trying to wave the two off. 

“Alright but if I die, you guys all know the culprit right?” with that agreement, Anders followed Fenris back to his room while snuggling his cat to his face. “It’s okay, Pounce. I won’t let meanie-Fenris treat you badly. If Daddy dies, you run though, okay?” 

“Meow?” Anders’s soft laugh was the last thing heard before he and Fenris disappeared behind the cloth. 

Zevran clasped his hands together to give himself a feeling of accomplishment. He swiftly started heading towards the door and putting on his headgear while doing so. Hawke seemed to follow his example as they picked up their staff. 

“What, you’re both leaving? Not going to stay for the show?” Varric gestured to the back of the clinic. Hawke only blinked in confusion. 

“The what? I mean if you want to make sure they don’t kill each other, that would be great. I need to get home and see if my dog’s okay! He’s been alone for days!” 

“Alright, but if you pass Isabela, send her down here. You staying?” Varric asked Zevran as he fixed up his cloak.  

“I regretfully cannot,” Zevran answered. “I will stop by again to see you though, Champion. I seem to have misplaced a letter in my robe somewhere…I shall find it, no worries. I will keep an eye on Isabela if I pass her. For now, I have other matters to attend to.” One of them being to escape from here before Fenris learns that Anders hasn’t spoken of any lover in his letters to his former Commander.