#the last one was supposed to be a fun Rapunzel AU

[loosingmoreletters]

It’s like I have 3 mdzs long fics in my head, one is a finished 50k first draft love letter to sibling relationships, the other has a 100 word crack snippet modern AU and the last one is a terribly angsty examination of being raised codependent and in isolation/imprisonment that only exists in my head so far.

None of these fics share a thing except A-Yuan being the best boy so there’s that I guess

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

Bowsario Rapunzel AU

Okay so I saw @istadris' post about figuring out what fairytale would fit Bowsario best and then I spent all day yesterday thinking way too hard about Rapunzel. This was supposed to be a little pithy ‘oh it's Tangled but Bowser’s Flynn’ thing, but then I started thinking about how being locked in a tower by himself would fuck with Mario’s psyche A Lot and then I had a 2.5k word outline oopsies.

So regarding Bowsario fairytales I would like to formally submit Rapunzel with Mario stuck in the tower for Magical Curse Reasons I haven't figured out yet.

Bowser hears about this and visits regularly to taunt him about it because he thinks it's hilarious the best and bravest knight of the Mushroom Kingdom who was always a personal pain in Bowser’s side when he'd go terrorize it got himself cursed.

(And then Bowser goes to terrorize said kingdom in Mario’s absence and severely underestimates Luigi, who kicks his ass so thoroughly that Bowser goes back to Mario's tower to complain about it. Music to Mario's ears, that is.)

(The insults directed to Luigi himself, on the other hand...much less so. And since Mario’s stuck up in the tower all he really could do to defend his brother was insult Bowser right back, instead of jumping down and wringing his neck like he sorely wanted to, with overcharged barbs that not only channeled Mario's overprotective big brother energy but also the genuine frustration and fear about being stuck in one place, isolated from his brother and his friends and the world as it spun on and on without him for maybe the rest of his life)

Eventually Bowser figures out that if he climbs the tower then he can get a better look at Mario's angry face as he insults him and thus derive even more joy from making this goody-two-shoes knight lose his composure.

But then he gets up there and Mario's anger turns out to obviously just be a way to cope with being sad and lonely and scared Bowser realizes that insulting Mario isn't really that fun anymore (Have the last couple of times been fun either? Especially as rumors started circulating, and Bowser pieces more things together about Mario's situation? And as he starts to wonder what it would be like if it was him, separated from his Koopalings against his will in a similar way — would his eyes have that same defeated and despondent look Mario’s do right now, a look that doesn't suit Mario at all?)

Bowser finds himself starting to feel low-key bad about making fun of Mario all this time, and about Mario's current lot in life. It eats away at him until Bowser begrudgingly starts acting nicer, and then he and Mario start having proper conversations that aren't angry screaming matches.

And then maybe Bowser starts visiting longer and more often, bringing card games to pass the time, or food Mario hasn't been able to have in a while, or some new books and recent newspapers to read, or a kidnapped Luigi or Peach to hug for the first time in ages...

Maybe even a different kingdom tries to capitalize on Mario's absence, wanting to attack the Mushroom Kingdom for one reason or another, and Bowser realizes that if he lets them win Mario will be sad (and probably lose the will to live while he's at it). And the spark in Mario’s eyes had literally just come back more often than not these days...Bowser sighs. He has Kamek pen a letter to Luigi and Peach offering aid. He goes to the Mushroom Kingdom personally to prove he's not kidding, and maybe Luigi and Peach catch on to Bowser's true feelings about Mario even before Bowser himself has.

When the dust from the invasion settles, Bowser and Peach hash out a fledgling alliance/peace treaty in the wake of it. Mario is ecstatic when Bowser tells him, and it takes most of the journey back home for Bowser to figure out why he's still flustered about the way Mario had looked at him for the rest of the visit.

Meanwhile, Mario is kind of baffled about the concept of Bowser being nice now. The insults from before were awful, sure, but it was a routine. It was something to focus on that wasn't the walls slowly caving in on him despite them not moving an inch, the yawning jaws of apathy lurking in his blind spot getting ready to swallow him whole, how he was already starting to forget what his family's voices sounded like —

(Luigi and Peach do visit, don't get me wrong. But Peach has a kingdom to run almost single-handedly, and Luigi is practically running himself ragged trying to fill in the void that Mario had been forced to leave behind because the big brother he was supposed to rely on had gone and poked something he shouldn't have like an absolutely stupid idiot. The tower is a multiple days' journey from the heart of the Mushroom Kingdom, just barely on the outskirts in a forgotten corner of it, and neither of them really have a way of getting up the tower, with it being so tall and the doors being locked. So. Less frequent visits than they would like.)

(They send as many letters as they can, though. Mario reads them at least five times and reverently puts each in a special box in a hiding spot to keep them safe, to bring out on particularly hopeless days. Luigi and Peach do the same with Mario's replies back home.)

(They're delivered by Toad, who's the only one willing to go all the way to the outskirts of the Kingdom to begin with — none of the other mailmen are especially willing, despite Peach’s pleas. He goes with a bundle of letters to the tower, gets them to Mario via some sort of cable system or something, and then camps there for a few days as Mario writes his replies. It's him that first informs Luigi and Peach of Bowser’s visits, having witnessed one of them — thankfully it was one of the...lesser charged ones.)

So. The weekly interruptions were welcomed by Mario. Even if they were annoying.

And then Bowser had the bright idea to come up here, which...wasn't ideal. He didn't need Bowser to see the mess he lived in, for starters, and once Bowser was face to face with him who knew what fodder he would be getting to insult him further? Especially with how vulnerable Mario had been lately?

But for all of Mario's imagined fears, the poorly-masked pity he got from Bowser of all people, King of the Darklands and the number one enemy of the Mushroom Kingdom, was a thousand times worse.

Bowser had continued to act off for the next few visits. He hadn't come back up to Mario's room, staying on the ground and shouting up at him about random things like weird inter-kingdom gossip he'd heard from his advisors or some of the other kingdoms he was sending his troops to and why or 'your brother’s a real piece of work I tried to kidnap the Princess last week and he went and talked down my Chain Chomps I literally trained them to bite everything they see with no hesitation when the fuck did that loser stop being a wimp' followed by the most concerningly detailed reportback on the Mushroom Kingdom's current defenses Mario had ever heard, considering Bowser wasn't supposed to have any way of getting half the information he was telling Mario due to both being banned from stepping foot where most of those defenses were located and the ironclad loyalty of the Kingdom’s citizens. He even started to include an upsettingly long list of inferred weaknesses, at which point Mario hurried to invite him into the tower proper so he wasn't just shouting them for anyone to hear.

From there Bowser’s visits officially got less annoying; instead of the distraction Bowser provided being a chance for Mario to yell and be mean until he tired himself out it was instead Bowser awkwardly telling him that Peach and Luigi were looking more or less healthy, he thought, based on how hard they fought against him the other day. Or it was Bowser sharing stories about his kids, whom Mario hadn't known existed until now, and Mario telling childhood stories about Luigi in return. Or it was getting to eat pizza for the first time in weeks, and almost bursting into tears before practically eating himself sick.

Or it was that one time the night of the Mushroom Kingdom's Star Festival when they figured out that Mario could access the roof, so they sat up there and watched the countless shooting stars for most of the night, teasing each other about the wishes they were making on them, until Mario fell asleep up there leaning against Bowser, the celebratory lights and fireworks from the capital visible from even way out here. Bowser had even brought a few fireworks of his own, based on secondhand knowledge about how this festival was celebrated, and they had lit them in a manner that was definitely and decidedly unsafe. Yet the fireworks at the castle had seemed to burn brighter and burst louder upon them doing so.

Or it was that other time when they figured out that Mario couldn't go down the tower like he could climb up to the roof — he would hit some sort of invisible floor and would seemingly be standing there in midair scaring passersby like Toad half to death. And then a few weeks later during a summer storm Mario had the bright idea to stand outside on said invisible floor to get soaked to the bone, and a few hours after Bowser called him crazy and pulled him back inside and pretended that Mario was just wiping rain from his face and nothing else Mario started sneezing, and Bowser had to stay with him a few extra days. Just to make sure Mario didn't keel over and die and waste the sweets Bowser had bought at the market before he came over here, that was all. Mario knew he didn't like this flavor of candy, Bowser had said, and he sure as hell wasn't letting his kids eat all of it and dealing with their sugar rushes. Besides, he could hardly get back home right now anyway, with the roads so muddy.

Or it was Bowser telling him about how Peach had held a ball for the first time since Mario had “disappeared” and it had gotten completely derailed because someone loudly and conspicuously talked shit about Mario within earshot of Peach.  Luigi was across the room and Bowser couldn't let a Princess get her hands dirty so he had to obviously not let that shit go unanswered and haul that idiot out by his gaudy lapels and throw him into the moat himself to teach him a lesson and — why are you looking at me like that. What did I — she had better things to do then — stop laughing — they were all just standing there, what else was I — argh, shut up! I’ll show you funny, come here, you —!

It was a far cry from the abrasive hostility that Bowser wore like a cloak whenever he'd attack their kingdom in the past and Mario...liked it. It was nice. He looks forward to Bowser's visits, as regular as they were.

But...Bowser keeps talking in the future tense, about places in his kingdom he’s going to take Mario that’ll pale in comparison to any sights in the Mushroom Kingdom and people he’s going to bring Mario to meet because they can't make the trek here and all sorts of experiences that he’s decided they’re gonna have, all of which were very much impossible to have in the tower. And while the optimism was certainly appreciated, it...was never going to lead anywhere, Mario knew. He'd tried it, at the beginning of all this. It hadn't worked out.

And yet Bowser keeps at it, even if Mario would roll his eyes and shake his head every time he brought it up, that stubborn brash confidence that he could get Mario out of here slowly but surely reigniting that spark in Mario's soul that had dimmed but not quite died, holding a mirror to that hero’s spirit that persevered against all odds, no matter how small or nonexistent. And somehow, Mario starts to believe that Bowser would get him out of here, actually.

Which, of course, is when Bowser stops visiting all of a sudden.

Almost immediately after Bowser had realized he was Attached he’d tasked Kamek and Kammy with researching how to get Mario out of the tower, and finally, finally, they found something that would actually work. But in order to get it ready — or, perhaps, by consequence of getting it ready — they had to drop off the map with no warning, so Mario gets to sit in his room and spiral for a week or two or three. Within this spiral Mario thinks about what Bowser means to him, realizes that it's more than just a distraction from his situation and that there was a nonzero amount of hope and affection attached, and spirals harder. He doesn't quite spiral to the point of things getting as bad as those first few weeks, but it gets pretty dang close. For example, for the first time in weeks and months he tries to do everything he can to escape the tower again, short of throwing himself out the window (because he already knew that wouldn't work).

It's another couple of days after those futile efforts that Mario wakes up from a nap. It was arguably one of the best naps he’d had in years, he thought as he sat up and stretched, to have him feeling so much lighter than when he'd fallen asleep. It takes him a second to register an unfamiliar noise in the tower, and another three to realize it's the door, specifically the door handle, and Mario squints at it. He's not sure why it's moving, but it's not like it could be opened; Mario had locked it ages ago, shortly after discovering he couldn't leave the tower that way, and then the door had sealed itself shut, and Mario couldn't open it again even if he'd wanted to. And the door at the bottom of the tower was similarly closed off, so the stairwell itself was supposed to be inaccessible.

Mario creeps closer to the door and hears muttering. It...sounds like Bowser, almost. The muttering turns frustrated, and then there's banging on the door. That doesn't work either, Mario already knew; he’d almost broken bones in his hands trying that.

Except...the hinges are starting to bend, and the stone is starting to crack. Mario has a second to rub his eyes to see if he’s still dreaming before, with an almighty crash, the entire door and most of its frame falls forward, dust and fragments of stone raining down from where it once was.

Bowser glares at the door, smoke coming from his nose in an angry huff, and then he looks up and sees Mario. They stare at each other. 

Bowser quickly dons a boastful smirk. How about that, he brags, I told you I could get you out of here! No need to thank me or anything —

Mario punches him in the face.

Bowser recoils in pain, and he's offended for about two seconds before he starts laughing, loud and delighted. And here I was wondering if you were gonna wither away while I was gone, he cackles, and Mario can't help the twitch of his lips at that.

(He does kick Bowser in the shins, though. As a warning to never fucking do that again he thought he been abandoned up here —)

(Abandoned? As if! Bowser grins and scoffs. I like you, so you're stuck with me, pipsqueak, and there's fuck-all you can do about it!)

(Mario contemplates pushing him down the stairs. He settles for a hug instead, which was just as well because doing so seemed to throw Bowser off his game more than otherwise. His cheeks were bright red when Mario pulled away, and Mario smirked at him, despite his own face being pink to match.)

Mario packs up his stuff (i.e. grabs his boxes of mail and stuffs them in a bag, and then also puts the various gifts he's received from Peach and Luigi and Toad and Bowser into it) and with one last look around at this shoddily-gilded cage Bowser and Mario start descending the staircase.

They approach the point where the curse would usually stop Mario from progressing any further and Mario hesitates. Bowser pulls him over the invisible threshold with a casual ease, and Mario has to take a minute to stave off the incoming onslaught of tears about the fact that the curse was truly broken. Bowser awkwardly tries to comfort him, and Mario pulls himself together with a watery laugh at the attempt before marching the rest of the way down the stairs, Bowser right behind him.

(And it was a good thing that Bowser was so close, because it turns out being cooped up in one room for several months meant your stamina rested at an all-time low. Bowser had to carry Mario at the halfway mark down the rest of the way, to the embarrassment and secret delight of both of them.)

The two of them step outside. Mario squints, the sun bright in the sky. Luigi and Peach are there waiting for him, and he stumbles over to crush them both in as tight a hug he can manage; the three of them cry a lot and are generally glad that they don't have to be separated anymore and maybe poke a little fun about how pale Mario is now.

Bowser watches them from a slight distance, nearer to Kamek and Kammy, letting them have their Moment(tm). Yeah, he'd meant it when he said he wasn't going to leave Mario ever, but also he's feeling like the world's biggest fourth wheel of a tricycle right now and the uncertainty about what’s going to happen now that Mario had his family back and didn't have to rely on him for socialization anymore is starting to fuck him up a little. Kammy tells him not to worry about it while giving him a Mushroom for the bruise on his face. Bowser is having a hard time not worrying about it.

The Mushroom Kingdom trio finally part — well, Luigi and Mario are still draped over each other and Luigi’s still crying, but that's neither here nor there — and Peach goes over to Bowser to thank him profusely, to the point where Bowser starts squirming both because of the genuine uninhibited positive emotions being expressed and also if he’d been in this exact scenario a year ago he’d be milking it for all it was worth but now it’s just something to sit through as he steals glances at Mario throughout. He’s not exactly subtle, with those glances, and Peach starts teasing him about it. Bowser scowls, face red. 

Peach mentions that they’re going to have to plan something for Mario’s formal return, including letting the Mushroom Kingdom citizens know about it. Bowser, of course, is more than welcome to join the inevitable festivities.

I can handle things back home, Kamek says, I was already basically doing that anyway, with how often you were gallivanting over here instead. He shoots a pointed look at Bowser, who rolls his eyes.

As long as it's not one of your ridiculous parties, Bowser grumbles to Peach, Red hasn't talked to anyone besides us in ages you can't just parade him around for your people.

Red? Aw, is that your nickname for him? A color? Peach laughs.

...What did he ever see in her, honestly.

The last thing they do before they leave is destroy the tower. Bowser’s brought some explosives with him, for some godforsaken reason, and Mario and Luigi and Peach take great delight in spending the rest of the day rending the entire structure to rubble with him. Kamek and Kammy pull out all the decor from the tower’s main room and Mario gets the honor of lighting the whole thing up in flames. It's very cathartic. 

In the morning, they’re all going to go back to the Mushroom Kingdom to celebrate Mario’s return in a more semi-private setting, and then work out how to do so plus thank Bowser and his advisors for their efforts in a more formal and public way later.

But for now, Mario watches the light from the makeshift bonfire somehow cast Bowser’s fond grin warmer than it already was, and Bowser watches Mario’s eyes sparkle brighter than any fire or star could barely dream of managing. New freedoms meant new beginnings, and as they reached for each other’s hands they knew that this beginning was already off to a great start.

[3rdarc]

What's the plot ?

"Seortel's long awaited spring. The kingdom's secret, who'd been buried to oblivion, is blossoming as the legend's profecy warned."

•◇•

"No one expected the return lost prince be tied to the Golden Sun tale, nor for it to happen ever.

And neither did we.

Well, thanks to Prince Issahn's prison-break plan, we're on the run from our kingdom's entire army force. We're making our way to my brother and the remaining Choi crew members since Leenho must have found his way back to them, surly. At least that's what we're betting this suicidal escape on.

The crown prince isn't one to put his friends, or anyone, in such a reckless situation, but many of our lives are at risk by staying cature in the castle. Then again, Issahn's not losing sight of his brother again, not this time."

‐------------------------

So, what is this last arc all about ?

I think their fun quiet-comfy-found-family days are coming to an end. Its the start of them facing their looming destiny.

From this point on, they all now know leenho's real identity, as the lost prince, and are hyper aware about the king's seemingly irrational goal of getting rid of him. It does take a little more piecing together, but they start to understand that that legend about the golden heir might be the reason behind it.

Their recent confrontation with the king just highlighted how unatural leenho's abilities are. Leenho has some kind of magic, that's for sure.

So that's what the 3rd arc is about : Leenho's fated tale

•◇•

I won't hold back for spoilers since... who cares, but that's just the start of it all. Ur supposed to feel like this fight with the king is their conclusion, all this story was leading up to and what leenho's tale warned about. That's because that's how the characters feel.

Idk yet how they defeat the king, nor what happens to his associates, because that's not the big challenge the legend spoke of. That fight will scar lino and feel like his whole life was leading up to this, but it will feel underwhelming.

He's greatly affected by it and he did finally founds his way home, safe and surrounded by love. But... it's feels... unfinished. He feels odd, out of place.

The life of Prince isn't really what Leenho thought his life's purpose was tied to. He never strived to lead or manage the political matters of a kingdom like both his brothers. Well, he wasn't really trained for it either.

Is becoming a knight really what his life led up to? Looking back on it now, maybe it wasn't the profession Leenho longued for, but his destiny as the golden heir. So what now...

It is pretty human for our goals and dreams to change as we learn more about ourselves. But it does feel scary and empty.

•◇•

Leenho's not the only one experiencing a self-worth/identity crisis. I'd say, appart from seo and jeong, none of them (skz) are ok hh and that's just cuse idk yet what's up with those two at this point of the story.

But the 2 most notable kids loosing their sense of self are his 2 youngest siblings : Jin & Lix

‐------------------------

Well, at least, thats what i think it's gonna look like for now. I never planned to write that part, im not good at imagining adventure and action plots.

This story was supposed to end at the 1st arc. The last scene of that arc is literally the only reason i started this whole obsession in the first place. I just wanted to rewrite a rapunzel minsung fic that was unfinished, and that didn't do it exactly as i wanted it to.

Then i guess i drifted from rapunzel to wtv this complicated mess is. Even after deciding it's not just a rapunzel AU anymore, i still was just planning to write up until the actual action. It's just a prelude, a prequel to the story it leads up to.

But here i am. Not because im bored and want to continue to story, not because i have time to add even more, and neither because i completed the prequel. I didn't. I didn't finish a single arc, and here i am already talking about the final one.

Honestly, nothing about this arc is set in stone yet. It's all very experimental, but i feel like to be able to write the previous 2 arcs, i need to kinda know where im going with the characters, so this story feels more interlinked and satisfying.

-------------------

[wheeier]

no taking back

summary: it was only fun and games. but steve had other plans.

warnings: modern au, tooth-rotting fluff i guess, little but of swearing

+ olivia rodrigo’s sour album (stream besties), the movie tangled at the end because it just radiates as a comfort movie

yes a modern au !!! i just saw this on tiktok (the sour part, but the rest was my idea!) and thought it was so cute so it gave me an idea to make it as a fic, enjoy !!!

steve harrington x fem!reader

olivia rodrigo’s new album just released and you were thrilled to listen to it and stream it the whole day.

when you finally got to listen to it, you asked your friends—robin, nancy, and the party, if they listened to it and which ones were their favorites.

robin told you that her top three were hope ur ok, jealousy, jealousy, and brutal.

nancy said she really loved favorite crime.

max said hers was also brutal.

el told you that she played good 4 u and traitor on repeat that hopper had to go into her room to turn it down.

when mike comes over to the cabin he can assure that el does indeed play them on repeat and get pissy about it (but he secretly loves the album, but he wouldn’t let her or anyone know that).

and lastly lucas and dustin are fans of deja vu and 1 step forward 3 steps back. max even told you that they would sing the bridge of deja vu on the top of their lungs.

you slightly laughed at the memory of them telling you about it.

however, there’s one more person that you haven’t talked to about it yet.

steve.

your smile faltered and faded when he came across in your mind.

your feelings for him had deepened over the time and listening to the sour album made it feel like you two had broken up, which in fact, is not true because you were never together in the first place.

suddenly, an idea popped in your head. instead of being sad about steve, you thought about texting him, although it’s almost 1AM, you knew he’d still be up.

Sailor Man

You: hey

You: u up?

Sailor Man: duh

Sailor Man: this has been our nightly routine u always bother me when i’m about to go to sleep

You: fuck off

You: don’t pretend that you’re not binge watching outer banks until 4am

Sailor Man: i’m not?!?

You: yeah right

You: anyways

You: can u do me a favor

Sailor Man: will i get free pizza afterwards

You: no

Sailor Man: k

You: what the fuck

You: fine

Sailor Man: hehe

Sailor Man: what’s the favor ;)

You: dont get me started with that winky face i swear ure so dead when i see you at the wheeler’s house tomorrow

You: have you listened to olivia rodrigo’s new album

Sailor Man: ohh the bitter album?

You: ITS SOUR DUMBASS

Sailor Man: I DONT KNOW?!?

You: I CANT DO THIS HJAGSK

Sailor Man: shut up

Sailor Man: i’ve heard some of the songs but i haven’t fully listened to them

Sailor Man: why

You: can you like

You: ask me to be ur girlfriend then break up with me right after so i can experience and actually feel the whole sour album

Sailor Man: what

You: just do it !!

Sailor Man: you’re so funny (y/n/n)

Sailor Man: okay

Sailor Man: will you be my girlfriend?

You: yes !!!

You: ...

You: hello

You: dont tell me u fell asleep

Sailor Man: i’m not doing the last part you might as well forget about it

You: wjat

Sailor Man: :D

You: wtf

You: okay steve cut it out i’m not doing this anymore u’re not funny

Sailor Man: nope

Sailor Man: go to sleep we’re dating now that’s how this works

Sailor Man: okay i dont know if you’re still reading this now and i am terrified to say this to you in person like TERRIFIED. might piss my pants if i did. so (y/n/n), my favorite dumbass, my favorite person to talk to at night even if it interrupts my binge watching marathon, you make me so happy to the point that even when i sleep you’re still in my dreams. i like you. i have like the biggest fattest crush on you. and thank you for doing that sour album thing or whatever, because of that i get to finally ask you out

you rolled on your back after you read the message, facing the ceiling as your mind processed what just happened. was he playing with you? was he actually serious about asking you out?

Incoming video call...

Sailor Man

you took a deep breath before tapping the green button and placing it back down on the bed.

“hey,” you can tell that he was tired based on his voice. “can you show your face, please? i miss you.”

ignoring the butterflies in your stomach, you hesitantly lifted the phone and shifted your position to lay on your side. “hey.”

“hey yourself.” steve grins. that stupid grin that makes your stomach turn, that grin you always want to see everyday.

“what’s..up?” you avoided looking at him and started to admire your surroundings and the posters placed on your wall. this was the only time you were glad you weren’t with him in person.

“i just wanted to see if you’re okay.” of course he will ask that. he's steve. he cares about other more than himself.

“i am, thanks.” you showed a smile that doesn't reach your ears and steve knew something was bothering you. “hey, look. i'm sorry about my confession- if it made you uncomfortable i'm sorry-”

“no,” you cut him off, looking back at his face on the screen. “i’m fine, really. you don't have to apologize. i was just, surprised.”

there was silence between the two of you for a few seconds, before you spoke again. “did you mean it?” you voice was only above whisper but steve managed to hear them. “of course,” he answered almost too quick, without any hesitation. “i've been trying to find the perfect opportunity and had been asking god for signs because i can't make a move myself-”

“asking god?” you chuckled and steve smiled hearing them, glad that he somehow lightened the mood. “well, more like begging.” he continues and you giggled.

once your laughter died you both fell into silence again. you still couldn’t believe that out of a fun joke, it would turn into a whole another situation. “so, um.. just so you know, i’m not mad, or upset, or anything. i really was just surprised. it felt like a dream because i didn’t know that you like me back and all i did was just supposed to be a fun joke but—”

“hold on, back?”

“what?”

“like you back. you said i like you back.” steve sat up on his bed and fixed his hair as his eyes widened. “i did...” you said slowly, not catching up.

“does that mean you..”

then it hit you. “oh, right. yeah. i- i like you..too.” you waited for his reaction and once you saw him smile you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same.

“i knew it. and well, i guess that confirms it. we’re dating now. no taking back.” he smirks then laughs when your rolled your eyes. “don’t flatter yourself, harrington. i did not say shit.” you pointed your index finger on the screen, barely containing your giggles.

“based on your beautiful smile i think you don’t need to say it. i like you, and you like me. we’re dating.” steve gives you a teasing smile. you tried keeping your serious face but it won’t last longer so you finally smiled again. “alright, fine. no taking backs. we’re dating.” you said then laughed as he whisper-yelled ‘yes!’ while fist pumping the air.

he soon joined your laughter and you stayed like that until your jaw was pretty much in pain because of your smiles. when it was all quiet again, you both just admired each other’s presence through the screens of your phones. “i wish i was there with you.” he mumbles. “yeah, me too.” you hugged your cold pillow beside you, closing your eyes for a moment and imagining it as steve.

“are your parents home?”

you snorted at his random question. “i’m actually alone right now, they’re out because dad got promoted at his work so he and mom and i think a few friends went out to celebrate. they should be home by an hour or two. why?”

“nothing.” was all he said before hanging up. you were left confused but then he’s your best friend after all, so you knew right then and there that he’ll do something stupid. after you turned your phone off you suddenly felt watching a movie so you went to the kitchen to make some popcorn.

when it was finished and had been put in a bowl, that’s when you heard your doorbell rang—in a pattern which you recognize, and only one person does that.

you let out a quiet laugh when you realized who it was and set the bowl on the counter before opening the door.

“hi!” steve greeted you with a smile. “uh, hi?” you laughed nervously and stepped aside for him to go in. “i smell popcorn, are we having a movie night?” he says as he steps inside and shrugged off his jacket. “actually yeah, i’m planning on watching—”

“tangled.” he finishes off, you subconsciously smiled upon hearing your favorite movie. “how’d you know?”

steve snatches a few popcorns from the bowl as you both arrived in the kitchen. “(y/n), you have watched that movie 7 times this week and always gush to me about it.”

“well, you’re the only one that is around my age that i can talk to with that movie. robin and nancy aren’t that into it.” you replied, grabbing the bowl and making your way back to your bedroom, steve following your heels. “and you think i’m the best option to talk to about that?” he asks, plopping down on your bed and resting his back on the headboard.

“you’re not complaining.” you shrugged as you grabbed your laptop and sat beside steve.

“yeah, probably because i like you.” it came out of his mouth casually. you froze in place and felt your cheeks heat up, finally nodding your head slowly, “..probably.” as you typed in the movie in your laptop you felt steve scoot closer, making your breath hitch.

you were both in a comfortable silence while watching the movie, except for a few jokes and comments that steve makes and him explaining how similar he was to flynn rider.

“you know, since i’m eugene, you could be rapunzel.” he suddenly says. you eyes were still on the screen but your eyebrows furrowed. “why? i’m nothing like her.”

finally looking at steve, you almost screamed how he was already looking at you. “oh, you are so rapunzel. you may not have the longest hair in the world, but you are pretty much similar.” he replies, smiling and not taking his eyes off of you.

you paused the movie and shifted your body towards him, intrigued by his explaination. “how so?”

“well, first off,” steve starts, resting his hands on the soft mattress. “you’re both sweet, you’re both a huge ray of sunshine, have gorgeous eyes and smile, and eugene is head over heels over you — and since he doesn’t exist in real life, i’d like to be the substitute.” he finished with a confident smile.

after about three seconds, you burst out of laughter. you laughed. as much as he loves the sound of your laugh, he can’t help but pout. “(y/n), i’m trying to be sweet here!”

“i’m sorry!- it’s just- i can’t help but laugh at your flirting.” you managed to say between your laughs. you know he’s kidding but he looked at you like he was offended.

your laughter died down and held steve’s face. “it’s cute, sorry.” you mumble with a little laugh. when he finally smiled you turned to your laptop and continued the movie.

steve gazes at you for a few more seconds before watching the movie with you again. “thank you.” you whisper, glancing at him.

“you’re very much welcome, my rapunzel.” he says smiling before he slides a bit down on the bed so his head could reach your shoulder and rests it there.

you giggled as you heard him whisper,

“thank you, olivia rodrigo.”

[frogmentarii]

QUESTIONS FOR OC CREATORS

Haaaa ok so I am doing this cause i saw @fallout-lou-begas steal it from @tarberrymentats and they both looked like they were havin hella fun so i am commandeering this for my own purposes. So lucky for yall its Emi time (art by the dearest @yesjejunus because yall need to see more of her work)

A) Why are you excited about this character?

Because she's an older woman (57) that breaks a lot of moulds and I love to see it. Aside from just enjoying older characters, Emi isn't a sweet old lady and she isn't here to try and mother anyone. Her drives are entirely her own and while she prioratizes herself and her sister before anyone else, its not always due to complete selfishness and just due to growing up in the wastes (I try to keep her character true to a fend for yourself setting as possible). I think Ill go into detail in another question with this, but I went through a lot of concepts and personalities for Emi before settling on someone who was seasoned and very much a product of the wastes. I think after seeing a lot of other couriers I finally figured out what I wanted to do differently, and that sort of helped guide her to become what she is today.

B) What inspired you to create them?

I think my last line there sort of short answers this. I wanted someone different from the other couriers I saw, and wanted to make one that was distinct or even juxtaposed against some tropes. She's a woman in her late 50s that doesnt try and play mom/granny to the companions, she very much has no stake in what happens to the Mojave, she doesnt care about Benny or that he shot her in the head (such is life in the Mojave, but she did have a job to complete so ripperoni him), and a lot of her motivations are selfish or exist to benefit her sister. She doesnt act 'old' in the fact that she isn't a wise caring soul or a grumpy old man, but rather her age is shown through her experience, and this also shapes her personality. She's never had to formally 'grow up' so she can come off as immature and irritating for her own entertainment, but she doesn't have youthful ignorance for how the world works. She knows how to be responsible but she doesnt have to act like it outwardly, even with her Tragic Caregiver Backstory.

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

To a large degree in the beginning, yes, and to specific degrees now, also yes. Writing in general isnt my strong point though I did know what I wanted for her. The main image is there but the details are funky, and Ive been slowly hammering those out as I work along with her and Camila's stories. There's been some huge changes along the way that help push both of them towards an ending I like and that fits them, and even if it takes forever and I never actually write a fic, I'll be happy when she finally feels completed in New Vegas.

Aside from that, she kind of fits in anywhere in regards to AUs. My friend @yesjejunus and I have probably like 40000 fucking aus for our OCs and all of them feel just as organic and their canon stories.

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

So I know I have an 'original concept Emilia' art on here where she looked like Laura Croft and had aviators but that wasnt even her first concept. I had originally wanted to make a petite southern belle type from Louisiana who used a shot gun and had a mean streak, but as I kept playing with concepts Emi really started to lean other places. Another huge change was her personality. Even when her concept got settled as a sniper from Mexico, she was suppose to be an early 30s caravan guard who was way too sure of herself. While there are reminents of that concept still in her, she has a lot more experience in the wastes and in think-on-your-feet situations to back up her attitude. Another thing she required was dropping her "take me seriously" personality with more goofy "i do what i want cause why not" traits.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Emi can get along with anyone at a surface level, for a small while, if it will benefit her or she wants to pass time. She really doesn't have interest in folks who arent interesting or beneficial in some way. Since I don't really offer her much, and am a bit of a wet bag, she might yank my chain for her own funsies or she'd have no interest.

And while I did indeed give Emi my go with the flow attitude, I think I wouldn't be able to keep up with her. Emi is very fast paced and doesnt necessarily have regard for those she decides to pick up as drinking buddies for the night. Def dont trust her with my life, and knowing the shit she gets into I'd def want to steer clear of it....like a trainwreck its much better to watch her from a safe distance, lol.

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

A lot of affection from a meta standpoint? I've worked with Emi and Cam a lot since creating them, and they've def come a long way since their original concepts. I wouldn't say their story is quite where I want it yet, but I am quite happy with it overall.

That, and Ive met so many awesome writers along the way with Emi. Not all of my friends have posted fic but the amount of world building and having our characters interact and talking OCs ive done with them has placed both Emi and their OCs in a special place for me. Sure her having her own story is fun but I much more prefer the bonds Ive created with people over OCs and I think thats a bit more of a cherished component to character creation for me.

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

Literally? That she likes to be irritating if she feels she can get away with it (or even if she cant). Actually? That she has a very "I shelter you and feed you therefore I make the rules, period." stance on how she takes care of her charge. She lets a lot of shit slide with Camila but things get very Rapunzel-esque at times.

H) What trait do you admire most?

How sure of herself she is. Even if its to a fault, she trusts herself and her judgements. That sort of confidence is something I strive to have haha.

To a lesser degree, and more of a meta point I wanted to make with her, just...her appearance I suppose? To me she's attractive, but she also has a lot of traits that aren't conventionally attractive and that's played a lot into how Ive wanted her to be. Again she's 57 years old. She has age to her body, her skin wrinkles and droops, her tits sag, she has the body of someone who uses chems, and yet despite her age and breaking of beauty standards ive made it a point to show that she is desired or thought of as attractive in non fetish specific circumstances. She herself, while aro, also still has an active sex drive and I really wanted this to be a backseat part of her character, as I feel like fandom in general shafts older women in this department (this also goes for a lot of her non 'old lady' traits I give her too). She still has sexual needs and is still very much sexually active, and she is still found to be a regular sort of attractive and is desired by those she gets involved with.

J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

Yes? Ish, to a degree. I didnt have to but I wanted to. I also did a lot of headcanoning with post Mexico for her early life which, afaik is free real estate for lore/nothing super detailed has been given in canon.

Given that she and Camila both shape their stories as individuals, I did have to split up some canon elements to follow two seperate characters, but other than that I really just had to make sure Emilia's story wasnt "boring" in the fact that she again, has no real stake in what happens to Vegas/the Mojave.

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

Cackles in 'which au will I obsess with today'

For the most part yes, however I love placing her in new things or different stories. She may be 'my courier' but really shes just the frog granny that goes into whatever au I am feeling at the time.

[minyoongiest]

Positions || KNJ (M)

• pairing: Namjoon x reader

• rating: MA/18+

• type/genre: smut, fluff, multichapter, idol!au, established relationship, nurse!reader/single mom!reader/stylist!reader

• word count: 5.7k

• summary: After a long day working at the hospital in Seoul, you’re ready to spend some alone time with your man, and since your daughter is staying with her aunt for the night, Namjoon has some ideas for how to work off the stress of your day.

• contains: explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral (both receiving, not simultaneously), vaginal sex, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, creampie

�� note: a commission for K. Thank you so much! I loved doing this, and I hope you like it!

(translations are at the end)

|| ao3 ||

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As soon as I shut the door to my car, I let out a sigh of relief. I like my job. (I like more that it pays my bills.) But no matter how much I like it, being on my feet all day and trying to do a million things at once so patients are taken care of and the doctors and my supervisors are happy is exhausting. I am so glad to be off and that I don’t have another shift for forty-eight hours because I need a break.

Checking my face in the sun visor mirror, I’m pleased to find my eye makeup is still intact. I was pretty sure by this time I’d look like as haggard as I feel, but my eyeliner is still perfectly winged, and my mascara isn’t even smudged. Tilting the mirror, I turn my neck to check my hair. It’s in a tied back for function, but practicality doesn’t trump style. Not for me, which is why it’s sleek and straight rather than just haphazardly thrown into a ponytail.

“Time to go home and get out of these scrubs,” I murmur, starting my car.

My phone rings as I’m pulling out of the parking garage, and my heart flutters when I see his name on my car screen. I use the button on the steering wheel to answer.

“Hey, I’m just leaving the hospital.”

“Oh, good. Are you on your way to pick up my angel?”

“Actually, I have two days off, so my sister is picking her up and keeping her for the night.”

His angel is my daughter from a previous relationship. Her dad split before she was born, so it was just me and her until Namjoon and I randomly matched on Tinder. At first, I wasn’t actually sure it was really, truly him because Namjoon being Namjoon it seemed like it was definitely a hoax, but I agreed to meet up with him just to see, and what was supposed to be a hookup turned into a fancy dinner date followed by a casual lunch date and then drinks at his apartment after work which turned into a naked sleepover…

That sort of went on for a few months, in which I introduced him to my daughter through pictures and stories, and then they met in person, which was exciting and nerve-wracking for me, but she adores him, and he adores her. So on the night of our sixth month anniversary when he asked how I felt about us moving in with him, there wasn’t much for me to think about.

“Oh,” he says softly. “So, we’re alone for the night?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t have to be up for work?”

“No.” I bite my lip as I stop at a red light and flip on my turn signal. “I do have to go get her before noon though, so I can’t be in bed all day.”

“That’s okay,” he answers quickly. “I have a schedule before that, so I’ll be up.”

“Are you still at the studio?”

“Yeah. I want to get a few more things recorded before I head home. Do you want me to pick up takeout on my way?”

“That would be great. I have some stuff to do around the house, and I had an email about a styling job I want to look into, so that works for me.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at home. Later, baby.”

“Bye.”

He hangs up, and my phone switches to a Spotify playlist. As I drive the last few miles, I do a mental rundown of the things I need to get done before he gets home. In addition to looking into the styling contract, I want to get the dishes in the sink washed first and then cut up the fresh fruit in the fridge for my girl’s lunches next week, and if I have time go ahead and fold some of the clean laundry sitting in the basket in the laundry room.

The actual first thing I do when I walk into the apartment is take off my scrubs and hop into she shower to wash off my day, literally, since I work in healthcare. When I get out, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top before I go to the kitchen to start loading the dishwasher. While it’s running, I do the fruit which isn’t my favorite thing to do since it gets boring, but it’s so much easier to pack lunches when the fruit is done and ready to grab from the fridge.

Finally, I settle down on the couch with a glass of champagne and my computer to go over the details of the styling job. Since I already knew it would require the most of my time I have before Namjoon gets home, I saved it for last. After I skim the entire email, I take another sip of my drink before setting my glass aside and scrolling back up to the details that pique my interest—what designers their looking for, what the concept of the style is, and how soon they need it done. If those things work for me, the next thing I’ll look at is compensation, but I have to be interested enough to want the job first.

“Gucci…Balenciaga…Dior…” I mutter to myself as I make notes in a separate window on my computer.

As I look slowly through the email again, I’m thinking of what connections I have with which designers and if I can put something together. Before I had my kid and went back to school to be a nurse to support her, this is what I did. During that time, I met a lot of people in the industry, so I know someone pretty much everywhere.

“Oh, if that’s the concept…” I close my eyes for a second to picture different pieces from different collections.

“Dior.”

As soon as I say it, my phone starts to ring, making me jump. I see my daughter’s face on the screen and realize how late it is. She must be going to bed.

“Hey babe,” I answer, closing my laptop and setting it aside.

“Hi, Mommy.”

“Are you having fun at your sleepover?”

“Yes, Mommy. We made cookies and then we went outside and then we had pizza and played games and then we watched Rapunzel and had ice cream.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of things.”

And a lot of sugar. I’m not mad at my sister. She can spoil her if she wants. I’m just surprised she’d do that to herself knowing my kid is going to be bouncing off the walls until she crashes.

“Mommy, when are you coming to get me?”

I sigh and ignore the way my heart gets all soft. “Tomorrow at lunch time.”

“Okay, Mommy…” I can hear her frown, and I hate it.

“Do you have your pillow?” I stand and start to check her bedroom. If she doesn’t have it, she won’t sleep, and as much as I want a night to myself, I also need my kid to sleep.

“Yes, Mommy, and my pajamas.”

“Oh good.”

I start to ask her another question when I hear the door open, and I turn to look as Namjoon comes in holding a paper sack with our takeout order.

“Hey, baby,” he says quietly, his stupidly pretty face splitting into a grin.

Fuck. Those damn dimples. I can’t.

I see his eyes go to the phone in my hand before he asks, “Who are you talking to?”

“JOONIE!”

I jerk the phone away from my ear as my daughter shrieks into it.

“Oh, let me talk to her,” he says as he rushes to put the food down on the bar top and hurries over to me.

I hand him the phone and watch as he lifts it to his ear.

“How’s my angel tonight?” he asks gently, sitting down on the arm of the couch. “Oh really? … Well that’s good. Did you have fun at school?”

I press my lips together as I wander over to the food and start pulling things out of the bag.

“Well, maybe Monday it’ll be easier,” he says quietly. “Okay?”

He laughs softly, and I can’t help but look over at him. God, he really loves my baby.

“Goodnight, angel,” he whispers. “Do you want to tell your mom goodnight? … Okay, I’ll tell her.”

He hangs up, and I pretend I wasn’t spying as I set out the rest of the food.

“She said she misses you,” his low voice rumbles into my ear as he comes up behind me, his arm sliding around my waist.

“She’ll be okay.”

“She also told me to kiss you goodnight for her,” he says softer.

“Oh yeah?” I tilt my head back to look at him.

“Mmhmm.” He leans down a few inches and his lips brush mine, a pleasant shiver running down my spine.

Damn those soft lips. Why do they feel so good?

“I don’t think that’s the goodnight kiss she meant,” I whisper.

“Oh, you want another one?”

He smirks and leans down to kiss my cheek, his arms squeezing tight around my stomach.

“Quit. Quit!” I pull away. “We need to eat still.”

“Hmm. Okay, but I’m coming back to this later.”

“Sounds good to me,” I mumble as he walks around the counter to the fridge where he grabs a beer.

“What do you want to drink?” He glances over his shoulder at me.

I sort of finished the champagne already, so I shrug and say, “I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Cool. Do you want your own or some of mine?”

“Some of yours is fine.”

He nods, and I wait for him to grab his food and head to the couch before I follow him, setting mine on the coffee table while I get comfortable before I reach for it again.

Namjoon talks to me while he eats. About anything. About everything. He tells me about work (at least vaguely), about what memes the members are talking about in the group chat, about changing his hair color… Aside from the occasional comment, I eat and listen to him. I could say more, but just listening to him talk makes me happy.

When we’re finished, he gathers up our trash and then decides to take the bag out because it’s too full to close the trash can. While he’s gone, I go to empty the dishwasher. I mean, normally, I would leave it especially since we’re alone for the night which is rare and usually means something very naughty and very fun is going to happen, but the cabinet has literally no plates or cups in it, and I don’t want to forget and have to rush to do them later. Plus, I have a bunch of nervous energy, and I need to do something until he gets back.

The top rack is empty and I’m halfway through the bottom rack when Joon comes into the kitchen.

“I figured you’d be in the bedroom,” he says in a low tone.

“I was killing time.” I shrug. “And now that I started I might as well finish.”

“Let me help you.”

He reaches down and grabs the rest of the plates and moves behind me, reaching over my head toward the cabinet, so close his chest touches my back.

Which is when I feel it.

Feel him.

Thick and hard and pressed against my ass.

I suck in a breath and bite my lip.

“Baby, you okay?”

“Fuck the dishes,” I whisper.

“What?”

Turning around carefully, still pinned between him and the counter, I look up at him, while at the same time sliding my hand down between us, cupping his firm bulge.

He winces, and I see his eyes flash.

“I want this,” I murmur as I give it the faintest squeeze.

He grits his teeth and grabs onto the counter next to my hip.

“Shit,” he mutters.

I start to ask what that means when suddenly he grabs my waist and lifts me onto the counter.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“You started this,” he says roughly as his eyes darken with arousal and he steps between my thighs, reaching for the waistband of my pants.

“Wait, right now?” My voice gets higher, and I bite my lip.

“I’m starting right now.”

I don’t get to ask what that means because his hands start pulling on my sweats and I almost slide off the counter before I reach back and push up on my wrists so they’ll slide off.

My panties go with them.

Oh God. My bare ass is on my kitchen counter. And Namjoon is between my knees. Cool air glides over my exposed pussy and I bite my lip, fighting a whimper.

“Mmm.” Namjoon’s eyes travel over me, landing on the now-pulsing place between my thighs.

Instinctively, I try to close my legs, but his hips are in the way.

“Don’t hide from me,” he says softly, his fingers trailing over my skin, from my knee toward my hip, along my inner thigh. I stop breathing as the edge of his fingertip traces the outside of my lower lips.

He leans closer, bending so his face is right there. My hands grip the edge of the counter tightly as a rush of wet saturates between my legs.

“I think I want dessert now,” Namjoon says softly as he straightens.

“What?” I blink.

I—He just—I thought we were going to—

All of the sudden he drops to his knees, and my spine goes rigid. He moves closer to the counter, his large hands on my legs, his eyes on my pussy. He pauses, and my eyelids flutter closed. I try not to moan as he exhales, a warm stream of air hitting directly against wet slit.

“Joon…” I swallow. “What are you–”

“Eating,” he rumbles, his mouth brushing against me as he says it.

My back arches instantly as his tongue dips in between my lips and runs the length of me.

“Namjoon,” I gasp as his large hands slide under my thighs, lifting them, pulling them apart as he tilts his head and plants a gentle kiss right there.

He kisses again. Harder.

And then he starts sucking.

First on one side. Then the other. And slowly from the front to the back. My back arches, forcing me further into his mouth, and I moan loudly. Without missing a beat, he tilts his head and sucks deep, his tongue darting out again, teasing me. I swear under my breath and one of my hands slides down into his hair.

His eyes lift to mine, and I feel the heat of them where his thumbs are slowly pulling me open. He smirks, and I feel it in my nipples, which tighten painfully right before he lowers his head again, his soft lips rubbing over my throbbing ones before the flat of his tongue laps them, the tip flicking across my clit.

“Son of a bitch,” I whisper.

He laughs against me, and I swear I almost come. Except he stops.

“Namjoon, what are you waiting–”

I choke on my question when he suddenly sucks hard, his teeth grazing my lips before his fingers pull me open and he tongue drives inside.

I swallow a scream as my head flies back as he fucks me with his mouth. Sucking and licking and his tongue moving in and out of me. He quickly adds two of his long ass fingers, which only makes me crazier. My hand on the edge of the counter is holding on so tight it might be cutting into my palm. The other is fisting his hair, my thighs clamped around his face as he devours me.

He grunts against me, and I whimper at the sensation. I’m so close I could cry.

“Joon,” I plead softly. “I want… I want to–”

One of his thumbs rolls over my swollen clit at the same time his tongue and fingers thrust deep. I come instantly, exploding in his mouth as I fall back on my elbows, moaning his name. His hands move to my ass, pulling it off the edge of the counter and against his face as he continues to suck and lick my wildly spasming pussy. When I come down, his tongue runs along my slit one last time before he puts my bare ass back on the counter and climbs to his feet.

“I can’t feel my legs,” I whisper as he rests his hand by my hip, leaning in to kiss me.

“Mmm.” He smirks against my mouth, and I realize I can taste myself on his lips.

I get wet instantly at the thought, and reach up to put my hands on his shoulders.

“I guess that means you’ll have to carry me to the bedroom,” I murmur.

He makes a low growling sound as his large hands yank my hips against his, my trembling legs instantly locking around his ass, as he lifts me off the counter and starts down the hall. My lips land on his neck (because how can I resist?), and I suck gently as my hands slide over his massive pecs down over his abs, toward his—

“Ah!” I gasp as my back hits the wall.

“You just came in my mouth,” he grunts into my ear as my hands pull at his belt. “And you’re still this horny?”

I can’t answer because his lips land on mine, pushing my head back against the wall, distracting me completely from unbuttoning his pants. I nip at his plump lower lip, and he grunts, taking control of the kiss. My lips part in surprise, and I whimper as his tongue slides over mine. My arm curls around the side of his neck, one of my hands driving into his messy hair. His fingers dig into my ass as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss even more.

He presses forward, pinning me completely to the wall, before his hands let me go. I let out a small scream, tearing my mouth from his, my hands going to his shoulders to keep from falling.

“Namjoon, what are you doing now?”

“Clothes,” he curses.

His fingers curl into the hem of my top, and I jerk as he yanks it over my head, leaving me completely naked.

“Better,” he whispers, his eyes traveling over my exposed skin with awe.

“The bedroom is so close,” I remind him, looping my arms around his neck and teasing the curve of his ear with my tongue.

He grunts and his hands return to my ass, lifting me higher, causing my boobs to bounce. I moan softly when my nipple grazes his lips.

“Bedroom,” he says softly.

“Yeah,” I tilt my head down and kiss the side of his jaw. “The faster the better.”

His soft lips press against my neck, and I quit breathing for a second as he moves us out of the living area. My eyes flutter closed as he begins sucking on my skin. Gently at first and then harder. My hand moves down again, over his chest and abs, zeroing in on his fly. I’m already naked, so my first priority is to even the playing field.

I get his zipper down and his teeth sink into my neck in surprise when my fingers brush against the feverish lump behind it.

“Shit,” he groans. “Let me get to the bed first,” he grunts. “If you keep that up, I’ll drop you.”

“Don’t you dare.”

I try to sound threatening, but it’s hard when his fingers are clenching at my bare ass, holding me tight to his hips, the bulge of his erection grazing against me. Instead it sounds weak and desperate. Which is exactly how I feel right now.

“Mm.”

He moves faster, his lips abandoning my neck as he pushes into the bedroom and throws me on the bed. A small cry leaves my throat, and I whirl around on all fours to look at him.

“What the hell, Namjoon?”

“’Bouta come in my pants,” he swears softly, reaching over his head to pull his shirt off with one hand.

“What?” I blink.

“Nothing,” he says as he swallows, tossing the shirt aside. “Come here.”

He stalks toward the bed, and I scrambled backward.

“Hey, whoa, slow down.”

“Slow down?” He stops at the edge of the mattress and raises a single eyebrow.

A jolt goes through my pussy, and I feel hot all over.

“You were all about going fast two seconds ago,” he says in a low tone.

“Well, yes, but you’re being really…”

“Horny?”

“Aggressive,” I whisper.

Fuck. It’s so hot.

Both his eyebrows rise, and I bite my lip.

“You want me to stop?”

“N-no…” I slide off my side of the bed and walk around the foot.

His eyes follow me, and then his body as he turns to face me when I stop in front of him.

“What are you doing?” He frowns in confusion.

“I just was thinking…” I reach down and unto the button of his pants. “You got dessert on the kitchen counter…”

A throb hits between my legs as I say it, and I clench my thighs together.

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, what about me?” I look up at him as I edge my fingers into the waistband of his pants. “I don’t get some?”

He opens his mouth and I slide my hands into his underwear, my fingertips instantly finding burning, turgid skin.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hands reaching out to grab my wrists. “Hold on.”

“I want to blow you,” I whisper.

“I guessed that.”

His face twists in pain, and for a second, I almost feel guilty.

“Let me sit down first.”

I pull my hands out and wait while he shoves his pants down and off and reaches for his underwear.

“I want to do that,” I pipe up, putting my hand on his shoulder.

“Oh?” His eyes flick up to mine, and I gently push his torso, urging him to sit.

His fine ass lowers to the mattress, and I slide my hands down his chest and abs and over his thighs as I get on my knees in front of him.

I reach for the band of his underwear and tug, squirming as his mammoth cock springs free. He hisses and his hand on the bed fists the sheets.

The longer I look at it the wetter I get. It’s not just big, it’s angry. Red with veins everywhere, the thickest one running up the underside. I swear I can see it throbbing. The head is visibly swollen with precum glistening at the slit. I’m a little surprised his zipper didn’t bust open trying to contain it.

I reach out to touch it, and he tenses.

“I’m not going to bite it,” I mumble.

He makes a low sound, and I put one hand on his thigh as I reach out with my other one and run my fingers from top to bottom.

God, it’s on fire.

The heat of it shoots straight from my fingertips to the aching spot between my legs.

“Ppalli-ga,” he grunts, and I know I have to move faster.

From  how hard he is, I can tell he’s already close. It won’t take much for him to blow.

Moving closer, I bend my head and lick up one side. One of his hands lands on my head, and I immediately repeat the motion. His grip tightens, and I begin licking everywhere. It doesn’t take long before he’s ready. (Not to mention he’s leaking precum like crazy.) When I’m done licking him, I sit back to catch my breath.

Fuck, it’s thick. I always forget how sore my jaw is after I blow him. Probably because I enjoy it so much that I don’t care.

“Goddammit, baby, suck me,” he groans, and I look up to see his head thrown back and the veins in his neck popping.

Wetness floods between my legs, and I gasp, gripping his thigh tighter.

His hips come off the bed, and I jerk back to avoid being smacked in the face with his dick.

“Okay,” I murmur. “I’m starting.”

He nods, or rather, jerks his chin forward, and I lower head, the bulbous tip sliding between my lips.

“Oh my God,” he groans.

I suck slowly at first and then harder as I move up and down. I use my fingers to toy with his balls and to tease the base until I’m ready to take all of it.

I hold my breath as I tilt my head and open my mouth as wide as I can, forcing his massive length between my lips. My jaw pops, and I wince.

His fingers slide into my hair and grip tight as I start to slide up and all the way down again.

“What are you doing?” he grunts suddenly. “Stop. Stop.”

I do but only because he sounds worried.

“I want to do this,” I tell him instantly. “Don’t make me stop now.”

“I’m hurting you. I can feel it,” he murmurs, letting me go.

“Well stop feeling it.” I frown at him, straightening my spine. “All you should feel is orgasmic.”

“Baby–”

“Let me deep throat you, Namjoon. I want to make you feel good.”

He sighs, and I lick the tip of his cock again.

“It does feel good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he mutters. “It feels fucking amazing.”

“Then don’t stop me, okay?”

“Fine.” He leans back, presenting his big dick to me again. “Go ahead.”

Before he even has the whole word out, I have him in my mouth again. I have to figure out my breathing as I go, making sure to suck deep and not graze him with my teeth. I move faster and suck harder with every entrance, ignoring the way his tip feels ramming into the back of my throat.

He starts swearing softly. And then louder. And then all at once in a mixture of Korean and English. His hand goes back to my hair and holds tight as his hips start bucking into me.

He’s going to come soon. I’m certain of it. Bracing for his load, I continue to suck and lick at his thrusting cock.

Suddenly he pulls out, practically standing as he fists my hair and holds my head still where I can’t get my mouth on him.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasps, his raspy voice sending small vibrations through my whole body.

“Okay, so?” I ask hoarsely. “Let me swallow it.”

“Don’t wanna wait to get hard again,” he explains gruffly. “I want to come inside you but not in your mouth.”

“You have a long refractory period,” I remind him. “You could still fuck me even after I suck you dry.”

“Not this time,” he shakes his head, the veins in his neck still popping. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I have things I want to do before I come.”

“Can you last that long?” I ask softly, my eyebrows rising as I glance back at his swollen, wet cock.

I’ve gotten him off enough to know he’s at his absolute limit right now.

“I just need a minute to come down a little,” he says breathlessly. “Then I can keep going.”

“Mmm…okay.”

“Get up on the bed.”

I climb off of my knees slowly, ignoring the tiny bursts of pain in my knees as I crawl onto the mattress. He stands next to the bed, and I watch him inhale and exhale slowly as he regains control over his urge to come.

“Namjoon, if you need to finish, I can–”

“I got it,” he interrupts gruffly. “Lie down on you back for me.”

I blink as he starts to climb on the bed.

“Now, baby. Spread your legs.”

He’s still close, I realize, but he wants to do this anyway, that’s why he’s in such a hurry.

Quickly moving up the bed, I turn onto my back with my head in the pillows like he said. Before I can breathe, he’s on top of me, his giant pecs in my face, his fucking huge biceps on either side of my head.

“You ready for me?” he grunts softly, his fingers dragging through the wet between my legs even as he asks it.

I gasp instead of answering.

“Mm.” He nods, biting his lip. “That’s a yes.”

“Joon…”

“This is going to be rough,” he says quietly. “Can you handle that?”

“Yeah. I can handle—ah!”

My words dissolve into a sharp cry as he suddenly drives into me. My legs lock tight around his hips as I feel it—the fat tip, the thick shaft, his balls against my lips. All of it hot and pulsing and stretching me wide. My pussy squeezes around it, and I hiss his name like a swear word as my back bows off the bed.

“Fuck, your pussy is a miracle,” he groans.

“You’re so thick,” I moan at him. “A little warning next–”

He moves again. Pulling out and thrusting back in. I choke on my sentence and grab onto his broad shoulders. He keeps going, fast, rough just like he said, pounding into me.  One of his hands slides around my thigh under my ass to hold me steady. His other slides inside to the front of my slit, his large thumb zeroing in on my clit which he begins rubbing furiously.

“Namjoon!”

I don’t even feel it building before I’m coming as he continues to growl and jerk against me. I’m not done when he pulls out.

“Wha-what are you–”

“Next position,” he gasps as he grabs my legs and flips me onto my belly.

“I’m still coming, Joon. Wait–”

He doesn’t. Instead, he hooks an arm under my hips and pulls them up, forcing my knees open with his own before he puts a hand on my back and gently pushes my cheek into the pillows.

“Oh God,” I whisper.

His other hand rests on my ass squeezing lightly before I feel him pushing into me again.

“Oh God!”

He slams back into my still-coming pussy, and I whimper into the pillow. It feels so good and so deep—even deeper than before.

“You okay?” he leans over me, his hand coming up to cup my breast. “Too much?”

“Don’t stop,” I murmur. “It’s too good.”

I hear him laugh in surprise, and I feel it in my nipples, which he’s doing a fabulous job toying with. Suddenly, he grabs my whole boob in his hand and starts rutting into me. My knees spread wider on their own and I grab onto the pillow with both hands, my mouth parted in a silent moan.

“Baby?”

“I’m coming,” I hiss. “Again. Harder this time.”

I squeal when he sits up suddenly taking me with him. I’m still full of him, straddling his thighs, which are resting on his heels as he continues to jerk into me, his hands on my chest holding me to him. I grab his wrists with both my hands without thinking. My head falls back on his shoulder, and I press my lips to his neck. My body feels exhausted and overstimulated and like I’ll never stop orgasming.

He grunts sharply, and I feel his hips tense.

“Come with me,” he whispers, his lips landing on my shoulder.

“I can’t,” I choke.

Or I am. I can’t even tell now.

“Just one more,” he bites out. “Now. Now!”

He drives up into me as he comes. My walls spasm at the hot fluid spurting inside me, and I gasp as I another orgasm hits below my belly, racing up my  spine, down my aching legs and up into my nipples. He buries his face in my shoulder, and I struggle to catch my breath as I finally come down. He’s still coming even after I’m finished, probably because he kept bringing himself so close to an orgasm only to delay it again and again. When he finally relaxes, he lifts me off of him slowly, and I lie down on my stomach in the bed next to him.

“I need to clean up,” he says gruffly. “Clean you up too.”

I nod because I’m so exhausted I’m not sure I can speak. When he comes back with a rag, I roll onto my side and wince at the ache in my legs.

“What?” He frowns instantly. “Did I hurt you? I was too rough, wasn’t I? Fuck.”

“No.” I shake my head at him. “I really liked that.”

“Oh…” He blinks. “You did?”

“I came like four times or something,” I remind him. “I definitely liked it.”

“Well…good.”

He runs the rag between my legs and over my thighs, and when he walks away, I grab his pillow and pull it under my cheek.

“Are you going to sleep now?” he asks softly when he comes back.

“Mmm. I don’t know,” I whisper. “I could. You wore me out.”

“I was hoping to watch a little TV first.”

“Okay,” I mumble, “but body is a puddle, so, if we’re going to cuddle, you’re going to have to pick me up.”

He yanks on some sweat pants and climbs in bed beside me.

“I can read if you want to just go to sleep now,” he says quietly.

“Mm.”

“You have to sit up though while I put this shirt on you.”

“Why?” I yawn. “I can sleep naked.”

He clears his throat, and I watch his eyes skim over my body.

“Trust me,” he says hoarsely, “you need to put on this shirt.”

I bite my lip as he reaches over to help me into the oversized FG shirt. I collapse into his pillow again as soon as it’s on, the warm, soft fabric that smells like him making me even sleepier.

“Goodnight, baby,” he murmurs as he reaches over me to grab his book off the nightstand.

“Goodnight, Namjoon.”

My eyes flutter closed as I feel his soft lips press against my temple, and then I fall into a blissful, post-orgasmic sleep.

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Translations:

Ppalli-ga - go fast

[varian-and-the-seven-skies]

Cor Meum | Chapter One: City of the Sun

Synopsis: In a world of floating cities and steamships, Captain Rapunzel runs the fastest ship in all the skies. But this rowdy crew is not without its secrets—or its treasures— and Hugo, newly-hired, is ready to discover them all. Now if only Varian, the whip-smart lead engineer, would get out of his way.

A TTS & 7k AU of epic proportions, featuring cool fight scenes, steampunk machinery, and an inevitable romance. Written by @littlemisslol-fic and @izaswritings.

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AO3 Link is here!

Fic Playlist can be found here!

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Chapter One: City of the Sun

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“Need a hand there, goggles?”

The voice, barely audible over the sound of welding and banging metal of the mechanic’s shop, draws Varian’s attention away from the chaos of the engine above him. With a beleaguered sigh he stares mournfully up at the greasy gears and other assorted guts of the machine. His eyes flick down to see a pair of black, perfectly polished leather boots waiting patiently near the edge of the suspended machine, and it takes more than a little willpower not to groan.

Varian grits his teeth. He does not have time for this. He only has until tomorrow to fix this stupid thing before the ship’s due to take off; he’s already been working on it for three days, and if he can’t get it running the Captain is going to flip.

The leather boots that Varian can see past the edge of the engine shift slightly, and Varian can feel more than see the light kick of someone else’s shoe against his own. The large silver buckles on the boots flash just enough to be annoying, and Varian makes a face. The voice drifts back down to where Varian has hidden himself under the engine, and it takes everything in him not to groan.

“Hey, can you hear me under there?” it says impatiently.

Varian plants his back a little more firmly on the rolling mechanic’s bed he’s lying on and pulls on the outer casing of the engine, rolling himself out from under the machine with a small grunt.

He slams his eyes shut against the sudden change in light, blinding even behind the protective lens of his goggles. When he opens them again he can see a tall figure leaning over him, blocking out most of the sunlight coming in from the skylights embedded in the iron ceiling of the shop. Varian cricks his neck, looking around in a last desperate attempt to ignore the person hovering over him.

The mechanic’s shop is certainly distracting enough, stuffed full of people just as grease-covered and irritated as Varian, all of them suffering together in the heat caused by welding and hard work. Made of thick stone and wrought iron, the large space offers room to spread out that you just didn’t get in airships, making it the best place for Varian to do his work with big projects like engine twelve’s sad, hollowed out corpse. Large windows dot the ceiling like stars, offering light and just the smallest hint of the blue skies above. The shop is, if anything, supposed to be a safe haven for the mechanically minded. People aren’t supposed to try and talk to each other, which is something Varian cherishes. Nothing worse than trying to piece together penny-sized cogs or a delicate engine part only to be interrupted by a nosey crewmate.

Which is why blondie being here is certainly quite the insubordination. Society has rules, damn it.  

Varian wipes his gloves clean off his apron before pushing his goggles up onto the top of his head, linking his fingers and stretching his arms out towards the ceiling. He lets his arms flop back down with a sigh, and finally locks eyes with the person above him.

Varian arches a brow, and the blond’s smile splits just a little wider.

“I’m sorry?” Varian asks, not exactly friendly. By the Maker, he really doesn’t have time for this.

“I asked if you needed a hand,” the blond replies, a glint in his green eyes. He’s tall, is Varian’s first impression, tall enough that he’s likely got at least a head of height on Varian if they were to stand shoulder to shoulder. Varian would say he’s muscular, but there’s the sneaking suspicion that it’s really more the black leather coat that makes the teen in front of him look that way. Varian has employed similar tactics in the past; he knows the tricks. Get a big coat with a large, pointed collar and massive cuffs and boom, suddenly you’re twice as intimidating as you were before. It's a good coat, though, if a bit heavy for Corona weather. Shining silver buttons line the length of the jacket, and it has deep pockets that Varian can only assume are full of fun little tricks from experience. The silver continues on the blond’s vest as well, a trim piece of green fabric with polished silver buttons and a faint embroidery.

Blond hair, chopped in a rough undercut, frames the other teen’s thin face in an annoyingly aesthetic kind of way, held back from his face by the wire frames of the other teen’s circular glasses. Green eyes meet Varian’s own, and the blond smirks at Varian’s blatant staring.

In all honesty, he almost looks out of place, dressed up just a little too much to be skulking around with the grease-monkeys Varian calls his contemporaries. If anything, the quick flash of a silver rapier on the blond’s belt cinches it. Whoever this teenager is, he’s either from money, or pretending to be from money, both of which are irritating in their own way.

Varian bites the inside of his cheek, trying to find a way to reply politely.

“No, thank you,” is what he spits out instead, grabbing at the engine and starting to pull himself back under it. The blond’s heavy boot slams down on top, the mechanic’s bed jerking to a halt, and Varian’s teeth click uncomfortably together at the force of it. The engine swings a little dangerously from where it’s suspended between two large chains, holding it high so the underside of it is easily accessible. Varian stops mid-yank and glares.

The boy just smiles, annoyingly unphased.

“Aw, c’mon, goggles,” the blond says with that same irritating smile, green eyes bright behind his round glasses. “Isn’t that a little heavy for a tiny thing like you? Don’t you want the extra help?”

Varian huffs in offense, already done with this conversation. The shop’s agonizingly hot, even with the windows thrown open. It’s loud, dirty, generally rather unpleasant with the stink of grease and sweat, and though it’s the best place to work in the dockyard it’s still chaotic at best. Varian only has another eighteen hours to figure out what the problem with this engine is before they’re due to take off from Corona again, and Varian knows it’s his ass on the line if the work doesn’t get done. He doesn’t have time for some uppity asshole to think he knows more than Varian and try to upstage everything.

“I have a name, you know,” Varian says, coldly, looking the guy dead in the eye.

“Can I know it?” The blond winks at him. He seems to think he’s making headway.

“Nope,” Varian replies with a peppy smile. There’s a moment of shock, and that’s all he needs to yank his mechanic’s bed out from under the blond’s black boot, disappearing back under the engine.

Finally. Back where he belongs, the annoyance avoided. Varian scratches at his face idly, bringing his googles back down over his eyes, setting his mind back onto his work. He peers up into the open panel at the bottom of the engine, noting the interweaving cogs that should in theory be working by now. After the bloody pirate attack a week ago, engine twelve, or specifically this part of it, had taken a hell of a beating. The Captain had pushed her too far again, causing something inside to rupture and spew parts across the engine room floor like a geyser, and in turn Varian has spent the last three days desperately trying to piece it back together. Something is still wrong with it, though, and it’s driving Varian insane trying to figure it out.

“Come on, darling,” Varian mutters to himself, taking a wrench to one of the bolts. “Talk to me.”  

He gets no answer. Instead a small plume of dust and grease spurts out of the machine onto Varian’s face, only just splattering onto his goggles instead of his skin. Lovely. He grits his teeth, reaching in to really give it a piece of his mind—

“It’s the bolt on the timing belt,” the blond pipes up from beyond the engine. “If you leave it as-is, it’s going to fall apart the minute you try to take off.”

…Oh. Varian looks up to the timing belt, tucked away neatly near the upper left side of the engine, and lo and behold, one of the bolts holding it in place is missing. Damnit. Varian peeks up through the engine, up to where the top panel’s been removed as well, and just catches a glint of green eyes peering down at him through the guts of the machine. There’s a minute of debate in him, how much does he value his pride? Enough to admit he was wrong to this irritating little—?

“Look, pipsqueak,” the blond says, his voice filtering through the cogs and gears. “I know machines. Just trust that I know what I’m talking about?”

Varian clenches his hand around the wrench, wondering how long he can go without committing murder. Maybe if he made it look like an accident…?

He rolls back out from under the engine again. The wheels make a protesting noise against the cobblestone floor. This time when he comes to a stop, he sits up properly, shoving his goggles back up to rest haphazardly on his forehead.

“Can I help you?” Varian finally spits. His ire only seems to encourage the blond, who grins.

“I mean, it seems like I’m helping you,” Green-eyes says, idly pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. How he’s dealing with the heat of the day in that giant coat Varian would never guess, but that’s besides the point. Varian rocks his weight a bit, thinking, the mechanic’s bed under him shifting with the movement. Decided, he finally pushes himself up to his feet, noting with irritation that the blond is, in fact, at least a foot taller. Scowl setting deep on his face, Varian turns away and kicks at the mechanic’s bed roughly, sending it rolling back under the engine for safekeeping.

There’s a chattering noise of gears and steam, and Varian feels a weight land on his shoulder. He only just adapts to the heavy weight of copper, steel, and brass, before he feels his first creation  clambering for his attention. Varian absently reaches up to pat at the metal body of his pet, scratching at a place between the exposed gears of Ruddiger’s ears that he knows the little automaton likes best. Ruddiger coos out a puff of steam, settling his weight onto Varian’s shoulders fully, the automaton having jumped from on top of the engine. Aperture eyes snap open and close with content, breaking the glowing green light of Ruddiger’s eyes for just a second as the raccoon-shaped automaton purrs.  

The blond lets out a little huff of a laugh when he sees Varian and Ruddiger together, green eyes flicking between them. He gestures to his eyes, biting his lip. “Look at that,” he says, grinning. “You’re twins!”

Sure enough, when Varian peers into the polished brass sides of the engine, he can see that his eyes are ringed with grime and soot, giving him a distinctly raccoon look. Varian scowls at his reflection, turning back around with an angry gesture of the wrench in his hand.

“If you weren’t right about the engine—” Varian begins to threaten, but the blond cuts him off.

“But I was,” he says with a smarmy smile. “Right, I mean.”

Varian can feel his eye twitch.

“You’re rightly annoying,” he grumps, crossing his arms. Ruddiger makes an offended puff of steam at the movement, digging mechanical hands into the shoulder of Varian’s shirt a little tighter. Varian grits his teeth a little as tiny claws dig into his skin through the thin fabric.  

The other boy holds his hands up in an innocent gesture, head cocking to the side. “I know what I’m doing, all right? Let me help fix the engine.” Green eyes glow with mirth as the boy looks down at the engine again. “Because, clearly, you seem to need it.”

Varian scowls, his hands clenching into fists, fingers digging into the leather of his gloves. The wrench in his hand is temptingly heavy, but Varian simply grits his teeth and ignores the plots for murder, taking a deep breath. Instead he reaches up and over the engine, using the wrench to try and tighten the bolt on the timing belt one last time. It creaks a little dangerously, but Varian knows it’ll hold. He designed it himself, after all.

Ruddiger keeps an eye on the blond behind Varian, making curious noises, a soft clicking sound that mixes well with the quiet ticking of his clockwork heart. Varian has to use two hands on the wrench to get the bolt tight, giving it a few violent tugs. The blond is watching him—Varian can feel eyes on the back of his neck—but Varian steadfastly ignores him, either out of focus or spite… or maybe both.

Work done, he finally turns back around to the blond, stepping forward with a threatening gesture of the wrench.

“Look,” Varian says, pointing the wrench an inch away from green eyes. “I don’t particularly care for your tone, so—”

“Varian!” a third voice calls, and Varian stills mid-rant. Both Varian and the irritating boy next to him turn, locking eyes with a young woman—a familiar woman. Her grin is a mile wide, bright as the sun and twice as warm. Her purple dress swirls around her ankles, cinched tight at the waist by a black corset, with billowing sleeves of white fabric. Her green eyes crinkle when she sees the two of them turn to her, scrunching up the spattering of freckles on her face and wrinkling her button nose. She’d look a proper lady, she certainly holds herself with the decorum expected of one, if not for the pixie cut she’d chopped her hair into. It’s stylish, with shorter sides and a longer top, nearly defying gravity in the way it fluffs up from her head into a windblown wave.

Varian notes, with quite a bit of amusement, that she’s holding onto a pair of flats in one hand. Barefoot again, then. Classic.

“Rapunzel,” Varian sighs, dropping the arm holding the wrench back down to his side. He can feel the embarrassment of being caught picking fights seizing him. He’s eighteen now, he really should know better, and Rapunzel is nothing if not determined to keep him on the straight and narrow.

“Who’s this?” Rapunzel says with interest, her eyes flicking between Varian and the other teenager. The taller boy seems to stiffen under her gaze, which is unsurprising. Rapunzel is notorious in these parts, and in the dockyard especially. Varian rubs at the back of his neck in the presence of his Captain, and can feel his cheeks burn red.

“He was just leaving—” Varian starts to say, turning away from her to glare at the blond, but Rapunzel cuts him off.

“Oh, did you make a friend?” she asks, coming closer and leaning on Varian’s shoulder. It’s infuriating the way she’s taller than he is, even after his growth spurt.

“Sure,” Varian says through grit teeth. “A friend. We’ll call him that.”

Rapunzel brightens at that, and Varian can already sense the trouble on the horizon. “And you are?”

The boy shrugs. “New.”

There’s a pause, but Rapunzel pushes forward. “Oh! How are you liking Corona, then?” she asks the blond, her grin a mile wide at the thought of Varian having friends. Varian’s not sure if he’s offended or not, really.

“Loving it,” the blond says. “The City of the Sun could never disappoint.”

Varian wants to roll his eyes, but Rapunzel leans further onto him, putting more of her weight onto his shoulder in a silent bid for him to behave himself. He goes along with it—she’s typically right in these sorts of situations.

“Glad to hear it,” Rapunzel grins. “What brings you to our fair city, anyways?”  

“I’m here looking for work, actually,” the blond says quickly. “Just got back from a contracted expedition to Vardaros, so now I’m on the hunt for another engineering job.”

Rapunzel’s face brightens, and Varian grows concerned. He knows that she’s been contemplating hiring extra hands for their next expedition, seeing how important it is, but there’s no way she would actually—

“Well, you’re in luck!” Her face splits into a wide smile. “We’re actually looking for a junior engineer, and any friend of Varian’s is a friend of ours. We’d be glad to have you aboard, if you’re willing.”

Varian’s face must do something funny, since Rapunzel’s full weight is near crushing him now. He tries to catch her eye, but she’s ignoring him with a grin. Rapunzel knows exactly what she’s doing and Varian can’t help but feel the slight pulse of irritation sink into his gut. She’s planning something, he thinks, glaring at her as she steadfastly ignores his gaze. Only the Maker knows what goes on in that woman’s head, honestly.

“Well, can’t say no to that,” Varian’s new most-hated-person says.

By the Maker, what did Varian do to deserve this? Has he really been such a terrible person to deserve this kind of treatment from the universe? Honestly, you’d think he was a horrible murderer in a past life for the kind of penance he’s paying in this one.

“Perfect!” Rapunzel crows with a clap of her hands. “Varian can show you how to get back to the Aphelion—right, Varian?”

“Yes, Captain.” Varian grunts, idly wondering if he could brain himself with the wrench in his hand in such a way that would guarantee he wouldn’t survive. Rapunzel doesn’t seem to mind, finally letting up on Varian and gently pushing away from him with one last squeeze of his shoulder.

“Alright, you two,” she says, winking to Varian as she leaves. “Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing— I’ll see you both back at the ship! Play nice!”

Varian can’t help but feel like he’s been played.  

If Varian had his way, he’d turn around and fire the blond here and now. Varian’s the head of the engineering section of the Aphelion— that’s got to count for something, right? In theory it should, but Varian knows that Rapunzel, as Captain, had final say in everything. If she wants to be a busy-body and force Varian to try and make friends, then by the Maker, it’s happening whether Varian likes it or not.

In this case? It is decidedly in the not category.

He turns to the blond, who looks back with a smug smile. Varian can feel his face scrunch up in distaste at it, and knows that the twitch in his eye is probably back with a vengeance. Ruddiger chirps with contentment on his shoulder, idly pawing at his hair in an attempt to calm his human down. It doesn’t work. Varian sighs, and finally sets the wrench down on a nearby table, jabbing a finger at the other teenager.

“I don’t like you,” is all he says. “But if Rapunzel says you’re in, then you’re in, I guess.”

That stupid fucking grin gets wider, and Varian wants to punch it.

“Who are you, then?” Varian asks, trying for more neutral territory. If they’re going to be stuck together for the next six months once the Aphelion takes flight, then he wants to at least try to work towards something non-hostile.

“Your new crewmate, obviously,” the blond shoots back, and Varian loses all sense of decorum at that point. There’s a beat of silence as Varian tries to reel his temper in, and another as he tries to relax his jaw enough to say something that won’t get him arrested.

“In that case, you should know that you’re speaking to your boss… mister junior engineer.”

The blond splutters, and Varian can’t help but give a little smirk of his own. Nothing better than reminding people of his position, the one he’d clawed for for years before Rapunzel finally gave in.

“Wait, what?” Varian’s new underling asks, going a shade paler.

“My name is Varian,” he says, the smirk growing larger and larger. He brings a hand up to the center of his chest, fingers splayed slightly. “Lead Engineer of the Aphelion, and your new boss. So, tell me, glasses.” Oh, this was so much fun. “Who are you?”

Green-eyes seems to know when he’s dug himself a hole he can’t climb out of, and for the first time there’s something other than an irritating smirk on his face. If anything, Varian would say he looks annoyed. The thought of finally managing to wipe that smirk off the blond’s face is delicious, and it does wonders for Varian’s mood. Varian sticks a hand out, much like Rapunzel had, and while the blond glares at it, he still takes Varian’s smaller hand in his own.

“Hugo,” the blond grits out, holding Varian’s hand maybe just a little too tight. It’s still worth it to see this boy squirmthough.

Varian waits, but the older boy—Hugo—says nothing else, and after a moment Varian draws his hand away. “Good talk.” That’s that, he supposes.

A pause, and then Varian shrugs and moves away, looking back to the engine. Screws in place, broken pipe replaced, timing belt bolted... it’s about as fixed as it can get. Varian reaches up and slams the top back down with a loud clang. Hugo jumps. Varian grins, and kneels down to lock the top back into place.

Ruddiger chitters in his ear, scolding; Varian shakes him off and straightens back to his feet, peeling off his gloves and shoving one hand back through his hair. Ugh, city sweat and oil. He can taste it. “Well,” Varian says, resigned. “Might as well make yourself useful, I guess. Help me push this back to the dockyard.” Hugo opens his mouth but Varian cuts him off. “And if I hear one more comment about my physical prowess—!” He pats the wrench twice with a sweet smile, the threat more than obvious.

Hugo closes his mouth. He’s grinning. By the Maker, even when he’s quiet, Varian can practically hear what Hugo wants to say anyway. This is already a disaster; what the hell is Rapunzel thinking?

He has a sudden and vivid flashback to her winking at him, and shudders without knowing why.

Ruddiger coos at him with a puff of steam. Varian tugs at Ruddiger’s ear in return, annoyed with the chiding—he knows how to play nice, thanks, why does no one have any faith in him?—and then walks to the shopkeeper, thus far ignored in the back of the workroom. “How much for the parts?”

He pays for the replacements and manages to haggle for a cart, and in a few minutes’ time he and Hugo have winched the engine down and rigged it up for transport. Varian braces himself against the cart handle and sighs. “Westside dock,” he tells Hugo, squinting sadly at the streets through the large double doors of the shop. It’s market day. The crowds are crazy. This is going to suck. “Pier 48.”

“You sure you know the way, goggles?”

“It’s ‘boss,’ actually,” Varian replies sweetly, and grins with all his teeth at the way Hugo winces. Hah. Varian could get used to this.

They exit the repair shop to a faceful of steam, and Varian coughs hard, waving the smoke from his face as he and Hugo shove their way into the crowd, the cart rattling loudly on the uneven cobble. Corona at midday is as bustling as ever, the city life in full swing. Whole families wander the streets as merchant carts and stores push out their wares; steam-powered bikes rocket past, their riders laughing high and bright. In the distance, Varian can hear the ever-present screech of the train whistles, the trails of steam drifting up from the stations. Above them, the sunlight warps and twists, broken apart by the furious rattle of passing trains and the railroad looping high above their heads in arches and spindly bridges.

Varian squints against the light and shades his face, elbowing Hugo hard to get his attention. The other boy looks almost lost in thought, staring up—his eyes tracking the trains as they pass, looking almost blinded by the sheer gleam of the city in motion. “We’re heading right,” Varian explains, raising his voice above the din, and waves his pocket watch at Hugo’s face, tapping the compass in the upper corner. “Come on.”

Hugo pulls his gaze away and follows, and together they push the cart through the streets, slowly but surely carving a path for the dockyard. When they finally break through the main crowd, Varian pushes them toward the side-streets, shadowy and empty and safe from wandering feet. If they hurry, he thinks, they might make it to the dockyard before the heat really sets in. He gives Ruddiger one last absent pat and starts to pick up the pace.

Hugo is slowing, though, trailing behind, and then for a brief moment he stops completely, hand slipping away from the cart. Varian yanks the cart to a stop, glancing back, ready to give the other a piece of his mind—but then he sees Hugo’s face. Varian follows his gaze, and closes his mouth. He understands now: in the break between the buildings he can see the whole upper half of Corona, the spires of the Sun’s temple and the curving arches of the bridges rising high over the city, shining bright and glossy in the sunlight. It’s designed to look like the sun crest, if seen from directly above—a tourist favorite.

“First time in the city?” Varian wonders, and when Hugo eyes him, just shrugs, Ruddiger chattering loudly on his shoulder. “You’re staring.”

“It’s bright,” Hugo says, dryly.

“And that would be why it’s called the city of the Sun.” Varian blows out a hard breath, trying to get sweat-soaked bangs out of his face. He plants his hands on the cart rail and starts pushing again. A moment’s pause, and then Hugo joins him. “But no, seriously, who are you? You’re already hired or whatever—” Damn Rapunzel for that, now Varian has to deal with this jerk for six months, “—but why are you even here?”

“Luck,” Hugo says, which is such an obvious lie Varian outright rolls his eyes at him. “Money. Look, goggles, I came here for a fresh start, so—” He gestures. “Let’s just not do the whole interrogation thing and say we did, okay?”

Varian presses his lips together, but lets it drop. As irritating as Hugo is—well. Varian understands fresh starts. And the money issue. If it was someone prying into his reasons, then…

“Fine, fine.” Varian says, and turns his head away, only just catching the way Hugo startles from the corner of his eye. He almost looks surprised, Varian thinks, but when he glances back again Hugo just looks as smug as ever, not even out of breath from pushing the cart. His hair is even still slicked perfectly back.  

Maybe his imagination? Well, whatever; Varian hates it either way.

It’s not far to the docks, and Varian knows the path like the back of his hand; by the time the midday heat really starts sinking in (and Hugo, in that stupid leather coat, is noticeably starting to sweat—hah, serves him right), they’ve reached the edge of the city. It’s quieter here, the rumble of the crowd replaced with distant whistles and rhythmic banging, the symphony of a dockyard hard at work.

Varian heaves the cart to a rolling stop by the stairs, waving at Hugo to step back, and cups a hand around his mouth. “Xavier!” he shouts down at the shipyard, pitching his voice high. Ruddiger props up on his head and yawns, puffing steam like a smoke signal. “Send Cass up here, would you? I’ve got that engine part fixed!”

“Oh, wonderful!” Xavier waves back. “I’ll send her up— we’ll get it reinstalled right away! Grab Yong for me?”

“Where is he?”

“On the ship!”

“Got it!” Ruddiger crawls from his shoulder down into his arms; Varian cradles the racoon close—ouch, hot metal—and finally looks back to Hugo, humming. “Well, come on then.”

“Yong?” Hugo wonders aloud, as Varian makes his way for the ship. It’s in Pier 48 now, the main dock for repair work, which makes this a longer walk than usual. Damn pirates, punching holes in their ship— who did this Donella think she was? For someone with such a fearsome reputation, they’d gotten away pretty light…

“Xavier’s assistant,” Varian explains, clutching Ruddiger to his chest and hopping down the stairs two at a time. He hears a snicker, and whips around to glare. Hugo looks away, one hand covering his mouth. Varian narrows his eyes. “Xavier was that man down there, he runs the engines, and— would you stop laughing?”

“Sorry,” Hugo says, with a grin that says he isn’t sorry at all. “You were saying?”

“Okay, I’m not doing this.” Varian spins on his heel, ignoring him. “Come on, it’s just around the corner. She’s a little... battered right now, some hull damage, but we’re set to leave tomorrow— and I mean tomorrow— time is money with this next shipment, understand?”

Hugo smiles, leaning closer to Varian. “What’s so special about it?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. “Is it expensive?”

Expensive, one of a kind, irreplaceable—there’s a lot of words Varian could use for it. If the Aphelion’s last cargo had been valuable, this next shipment is near-priceless. “That’s on a need-to-know basis—” Varian says tartly, “—and until we’re in the air, you don’t need to know. Now, will you be ready?”

Hugo shrugs. “I’m ready to go now.”

Varian blinks at that, looking Hugo up and down. Even Ruddiger lifts his head from his nap to sniff a disbelieving puff of steam. No luggage, just the clothes on his back and the sword on his hip. “Um… you sure?”

Hugo’s smirk widens. “Aw. Worried for me, goggles?”

Ha-ha, nevermind. Varian pivots back around. “Nope.” He is not allowed to punch his new assistant. He is not allowed to punch his assistant. Rapunzel would be disappointed. There would be lectures. She would make charts. Not worth it. “Now, where is that ship—”

He ducks around the corner, stepping out of the way of horse and cart, and then, like the sun splitting the clouds: there she is.

Varian trails to a stop, annoyance already forgotten. He turns, for once wanting to see Hugo’s full reaction. If Hugo had blinked twice at the city, then… “Here we are,” Varian says, grinning now, pride bubbling warm in his chest.  “The Aphelion!”

Hugo looks, mouth opening, and Varian can just see the rude comment he’s about to make—and then Varian really doesgrin, wide and bright and smug smug smug, because he can also see the moment Hugo loses all his words entirely.

Varian has always loved Corona, despite everything—the spiny skyline, the arching bridges, the whistling steam and winding roads curling up to the temple like a conch shell. Varian has lived in this air and breathed this city for all his life, and he loves it with all he is— but of all the places in the city, the dockyards, and the ships they harbor, are where his heart truly lies.

If the city is bright, then the dockyards are blinding. They sit on the very edge of the city limits, the cliff-face drop of the flying city. The copper paneling that makes up the dockyard decks has turned near solid-gold in the sunlight, and beyond that edge the whole world falls at their feet. Miles upon miles of dotted green farmland, blocks of gleaming metal towns, curving roads like man-made rivers. The horizon burns gold and blue, the distant silhouette of other flying cities dotting the landscape, poking out from distant clouds. None of the cities fly as high as Corona, of course—the cities of the Sun and Moon are meant to float above all the rest—but it still makes for quite the view. With other airships hanging in the sky, colorful backdrops against the full white clouds, the dockyards are most certainly a sight to behold.  

But the jewel, Varian thinks with a smile, is his ship—Rapunzel’s ship—their home.

The Aphelion.  

She’s a work of art, Varian knows, and she looks it, too. Aphelion is a whole three hundred feet of dark wood and solid brass, long and sleek and sharp as any blade. Her half-moon windows are stained glass and shining; decorative copper and silver wires wind down her front and all across her sides like trailing vines, or maybe wings, or maybe the unfurling edges of the sun. She’s got four sails and an envelope made of the best weave, the cloth of the balloon so thick it’s near impossible to cut, set to hold them afloat for nearly two decades even if the engines and the fires both die. A heavy copper turbine sits at her back; the sails, flapping loose in the breeze, are decorated in off-hand embroidery. She’s golden and shining in the sunlight—and it’s right, that Hugo goes dead silent at the sight of her, and Varian can’t help but grin. Because anyone who stops and stares at the Aphelion, anyone who goes breathless at their first glance… well, as annoying as Hugo is, he can’t be too bad, then. Not if he sees the Aphelion for the treasure she is.

She hadn’t always been this way, of course; she’d been a broken thing once, before Rapunzel found the shattered shell of a ship and coaxed life back into her. It’s Rapunzel’s way, after all, to find broken and trapped and hiding things, and bring them out to the light—but Rapunzel had asked Lance to do the tarp weave, and Varian had built the metalwork, and in the end, it was all of them, together, that brought the Aphelion to the skies, blinding and beautiful and larger than life.

Varian steps away and sets Ruddiger down on the cobble, still grinning wide and pleased at Hugo’s shock, and waves up to the small figures settled around on the Aphelion’s balcony. Rapunzel—standing at the helm with Eugene, Nuru, and Yong—looks over, and she leans over the railing to wave back. Her eyes draw to Hugo next, and even from this distance, Varian can see her smile.

Varian turns back to Hugo, radiating smugness. “Well?”

Hugo blinks fast and shakes his head. “Well,” he echoes. He shakes his head again, and then he gives a little laugh. “Well.”

“What do you think?” Varian presses, intent. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” And maybe Hugo catches something in that, maybe he can tell Varian really and truly wants an answer, because he looks at Varian, eye to eye, and then— he smiles.

Months later, this memory will stand out to Varian. Years later, Varian will look back on this day in the sun and finally recognize the moment for what it was. A beginning. And an end.

Their only warning.

It’s bright, the smile Hugo gives him. It’s blinding. But for some reason, something about it makes Varian falter. A chill runs down his spine. His mouth goes dry. Because there is something in that smile—in the curve of it, the sharpness of teeth—something about the way it creases at Hugo’s eyes. It unnerves him. It unsettles him. There is something about it that doesn’t sit quite right, and if Varian had known better, then, perhaps he could have read the smile for what it was.

But instead Varian looks away, feeling cold and not sure why, telling himself it is just the wind—and beside him, Hugo, his eyes fixed back on the ship—

Hugo smiles.

“Yes,” he says. “She’s perfect.”

[jimlingss]

The Colour of Our Voices [15]

Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16

➜ Words: 4k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

cr.

Every relationship has its own set of difficulties, its ups and downs.   It’s just painful that you can’t be together when you want to. You never knew there’d come a point where your goals, dreams, and ambitions would contend with your relationship. It seems like it’s either one or the other and you don’t know if you can pick — if he would choose what you would.   You hope that with time, it’ll pass.    You try not to show how hurt you are over the missed date night incident even though it makes you overwhelmingly sad. But you can laugh at it a little when you’re faced with a different kind of reaction instead of sadness — rage.   “He fucking forgot?!” Yeonjeon is hysterical and her disgust is practically tangible. “Oh my god. I’m going to kill him.”   She gets up, but you pull her arm down with a laugh. Jimin’s at work. She probably wouldn’t know where to look for him even if she tried. “Hey, don’t kill him, I still love him.”   “Yeah, and it’s a mistake,” the actress says right out and rolls her eyes. “God, I can’t believe I had a crush on that motherfucker. All men are pigs, aren’t they? What an asshole!”   “It was an accident.” You shrug.   “Uh-huh. Pathetic is what it is.”   “He’s been really tired lately.”   “Umm, don’t defend him in my house.” She’s personally offended and is still fuming. “He can’t even remember a date. Does he have one brain cell?”   “No. He has at least two,” you giggle.   Yeonjeon shakes her head, but softens. Suddenly, she puts her hands on your shoulders, making you look at her. “Listen, Y/N. Just dump Jimin.”   Immediately, you burst out laughing. “I love him too much to dump him.”   “Well, fame changes people,” she states coldly. “He probably thinks he’s some kind of big shot now because he’s has some stupid role in a movie.”   You smile at her sheepishly.   It doesn’t seem like fame changed him. More like fame changed his life. It changed yours too — if you could even call it fame.   “Anyways, enough about that jerk—”   “Yeonjeon,” you warn her with a pout. He’s your boyfriend after all so you’ll defend him till the end.   “—how’s your own projects going so far?”   “They’re going fine. Rapunzel doesn’t have that many lines and she doesn’t actually sing any lyrics, but in the scenes that she is in, they’re pretty important. I’m having fun. Plus the people there are really nice to work with too.”   “You know what?” She snaps her fingers. “Now that I think about it. Rapunzel fits you perfectly.” You laugh at her and she eyes you. “What? It just does.”   Someone else had told you that — a boy that you miss dearly. 

Jimin’s been having a recurring nightmare recently — one where he’s a four year old again and he’s stacking blocks as high as he can.    It doesn’t sound so bad, but always when he has the last block in his hand and goes to top off the tower, he can see it teeter. He knows what’s about to happen, He can see it right in front of him. But no matter what he does, how carefully he deals with the blocks, he can’t stop it from tumbling down.   The worst part is knowing the inevitable, but being unable to stop it. To see the collapse before it happens.   “Going home already, Park?”   The corner of Jungkook’s mouth curls, eyes flickering down to how Jimin’s gathering his belongings. His bag and coat are slung over his arms as if he’s being chased by debt collectors and needs to run out as soon as possible.   “Why so soon?” Chanyeol throws his arm around the younger’s shoulder, pulling him in. “I thought we were gonna go out for drinks again tonight.”   “I’m good.” Jimin slyly and discreetly moves the actor’s arm off of him. “I think I’m gonna head home early. I’m pretty tired.”   “Oh come on. Don’t be a downer. We even have our day off tomorrow. We should celebrate, don’t you think?” Chanyeol grins and looks across the set. “Hey, Director! You want to come with us again?”   Yoongi, the camera director looks up from what he’s doing and shrugs. “Sure.”   “See? Even Min’s coming. What are you waiting for?”   It’s not rare to drink with the other cast members after a long day of filming. Usually outings can range from three to four people to every person on the set. They’re a good bunch but he wishes there weren't so many eyes on him right now.   “What else would you be doing at home?”   “He’s whipped for some girl at home, that’s why,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “Let him go if he really doesn’t want to come.”   “That so?” Chanyeol raises his brows. “You can invite her.”   “No, she works fairly early. She’s probably asleep right now.”   “Then what are you going home for? Come on,” he insists, and Jimin succumbs to the pressure.   //   They’re huddled in a private room at the back of the fancy nightclub. It’s exclusive, sofas softer than expected, the back light of the walls creating a sensual ambiance and everything he drinks feels expensive. Jimin guesses this is what fame and fortune buys you.   One of the girls working at the nightclub comes over with a tray of drinks, gorgeous with her dress that’s too small and too short, and her cleavage practically spilling out. Chanyeol whistles, tipping her with a pretty bill which she smiles to, and the actor notices the way Jimin diverts his eyes.   “This girl of yours must be one hell of a woman,” he comments out of the blue and has Jimin’s eyes widening.   “Me?”   “Yeah, you, Park. Who else would I be talking about?” The handsome actor laughs boisterously, perhaps having taken one too many drinks.   “Apparently they’re neighbours,” Jungkook pipes up, remembering the story Jimin told a few weeks ago.   “Oof, brutal.” Chanyeol shakes his head. “If you guys break up, you’re gonna have to definitely move.”   “We’re not going to break up,” Jimin instinctively states. It’s almost defensive in a way and he hopes they don’t notice the nervous tick in his fingers.   There’s an exchange of expressions around the table. “You’re going to get married to her then?”   “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.”   “Ooh, he is whipped,” Chanyeol sing-songs, but it also sounds sharp.   Jungkook frowns. “You really want to tie yourself down so soon? I mean, it’s not a bad thing.”   “It is a bad thing,” the other actor corrects, “Jimin’s young and good looking. You shouldn’t tie yourself down so early. You haven’t even begun to experience what kind of girls are out there….”   Jimin doesn’t say anything. He takes the shot that’s in front of him. It’s bitter in his mouth, disgusting, but he ignores the actual taste to chase after the free feeling it gives him instead.   “You’re cute — girls like that sort of thing. Trust me, you’ll be missing out if you tie yourself down now, Park. You have the rest of your life to be serious,” Chanyeol continues before his eyes flicker to the person across from him. “Right, Min?”   Yoongi sighs and Chanyeol laughs, explaining, “He’s divorced. His ex-wife’s some critic who runs her own blog. They had to reach a huge settlement and it took two years in court, but get this, she didn’t change her last name back. She kept Min just to fuck with him.”   “That’s enough,” Yoongi pipes up, cat-like eyes narrowed in on his drink. He throws it back and exhales afterwards. “I don’t want to talk about it.”   The actor smiles, gripping his glass. “I got married to my high school sweetheart, and it’s an absolute nightmare.” Chanyeol grins and shakes his head, lighthearted in the way he talks and it makes Jimin’s own mouth quirk. “She’s bat shit insane.”   Jungkook grins. “Didn’t she key your car?”   “Broke my windshield too with a fucking brick.”   Jimin blinks hard, unable to believe it. “Christ.”   “They’re not crazy at the start, trust me. Everything’s always nice at the beginning — everyone’s in love, doesn’t matter that they like to call up their ex, that they want to forgo condoms and skip their birth control….”   Jungkook snickers at Chanyeol’s woes and even Yoongi is amused. “I was an idiot, to say the least,” he sighs. “Not that I didn’t have my own problems, but I rushed into it way too quickly. What can you do, right? It would be bearable if not for the nagging.”   “This is why I don’t do relationships,” Jungkook comments with his lips tightly drawn in a line.   “Smart man.” He lifts his glass and they clink their drinks together. Jimin’s persuaded to take another shot. “Don’t you ever feel held down by her?” Chanyeol asks, smacking his lips. “Doesn’t she nag or anything?”   “I wouldn’t say that….” Jimin considers it and his intoxication makes the words slip out recklessly. “She asks where I’m going. She texts me to ask when I’m coming home. She complains when I’m out late...sometimes.” The brunette shrugs. “She just worries about me.”   “Sounds like a burden to me,” Chanyeol remarks.   Suddenly Yoongi’s silence is broken. His eyes perceive more than they let on. “Does she ever make you feel bad for doing what you want?”   “That’s a good point.” Jungkook nods and leans over to look at the brunette, propping his elbow on the table, chin in his hand. “You shouldn’t feel bad about doing what you want.”   Jimin remains quiet. He drinks.   It’s silent for a while, unsettlingly so and as each person waits for him to answer, Jimin never speaks. He never lifts his eyes away from the table. Chanyeol ends up clearing his throat.    “What’s with this somber mood? Let’s change the subject! Come on, I’m getting too sober to be around you ugly motherfuckers. Shots, people!” They clink glasses together, laughing and moving on from the heavy topic of conversation.   But they’re unknowing to just how it resonates with Jimin more than it should.   He wants to be here — but you make him feel like he should be at home instead. He wants to perform, on screen or on Broadway — but you make him feel bad for being so busy. He loves you, but he feels guilty for your conflicting schedules, for not seeing you enough, even though this is all he’s been dreaming of, this is what he wanted…   Jimin drinks and swallows past the thick lump forming in his throat.   //   The slamming door shakes you from your slumber. You turn around in your sheets, listening to the oncoming stomping footsteps, an irregular pattern instead of a consistent beat as if someone’s stumbling. The bedroom door creaks open and then Jimin dives into the sheets.   He opens his arms and falls to his front, his arm hitting your shoulder.   “What are you doing?” You rub your eyes and with a sigh, you sit up. You reach over to flicker the bedside lamp on. “Did you drink?”   You can smell the alcohol radiating off of him, and it’s stronger than ever before. It’s surprising considering he’s usually a responsible drinker who always knows how to pace himself.   One side of Jimin’s face is squished into the sheets, the other facing you. One of his eyes open. The pair of you stare at each other.    “I love you.” The words slur and he exhales. “But goddamn ‘s hard sometimes.”   You sigh again, getting up to take off his shoes as he lays there. You peel off his socks too, throwing them onto the ground for him to deal with it himself in the morning. “You didn’t even take off your jacket.”   At least it’s his day off tomorrow, so he can get plenty of rest and recover — it doesn’t look like he’ll have a pleasant time in the morning. Unfortunately, the case is not the same for you. You have to wake up in three hours, so you’re not impressed to say the least.   You climb over top of him, taking off his coat. Jimin’s arms are limp like noodles and he turns his head to stare straight at you. “‘Hy do you make me feel bad…’bout doing what I want, huh?”   “What are you talking about, Jimin?”   You go to unbutton his stained dress shirt reeking of spilled alcohol, but he abruptly shoves his hands off of him. “‘Could get so many girls….”   “You could get so many girls?” Your eyebrow cocks. “Do you want to get girls?”   “Dunno.”   “Alright, Casanova.” You smile. “Let’s get you changed and to bed, ‘kay?”   As you’re unbuttoning his shirt, peaceful silence settles around. Jimin savours the warmth of your hands on his skin, gazing at how your eyes are concentrated but still sleepy, how messy your hair is from twisting in the bed sheets and turning against the pillow. Your edges are soft in the yellow, dim light of the lamp. You’re practically glowing.   “’re gonna break up, aren’t we?”   The reaction is immediate. Your hands halt. Your lips fall. Your blood runs cold.   “What?”    “We’re gonna break up,” Jimin says it like he’s announcing it, like he’s decided himself.   Your bottom lips tremble, hands quivering, and you quickly get off of him to collect yourself. You want to brush it off that he’s intoxicated, that doesn’t know what he’s saying. But drunk words are sober thoughts.   “What are you saying?”   “Do you know who I am?” His tongue slurs heavily, syllables melted together, and the man sits up slowly, swaying from side to side.   “Who are you?” Your voice cracks against your will, eyes glossy and looking into his.   “Cute — ‘Andsome — young — Park J-Jimin…..” He giggles with a finger in the air and he points at you. “‘M missing out by being with you, did ya know that? ‘Nd why do you make me feel guilty for doing what I want, huh? I wanna to go out and party and drink and meet girls and perform, but I gotta go home to you….sucks, man.”   “It sucks, huh?” You swallow hard, fist curling tight into the sheets. “So you want to break up with me?”   “’Ts gonna end anyways. Look at us.” Jimin falls onto his back again, cozying up in the sheets. “Don’t even see each other anymore.”   “So this is it?” You ask again and again, not knowing where this is coming from, unable to believe that it’s happening.   “Where else it gonna go?”   You’re silent. You remove yourself from him, bringing your shaking hands into your lap. He lays there like a dead body, but he doesn’t fall asleep just yet despite the temptation being so strong.   “What happened to the Jimin I first met?” you ask quietly, a mere whisper leaving your parted lips. You don’t know who this arrogant asshole is — a stranger has entered your home.   “’S not here no more,” he mumbles, “Fame changed me. ’M not some sad dude pinning after you anymore.”   “Go to bed, Jimin,” you spit out the command harsher than you thought was possible. It goes silent and you watch him sprawl in your bed, limbs spread freely and his chest rising and falling as he snores. You reach over to turn off the lamp and grab your pillow, shoving his head off of it.    You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and try to sleep out on the couch for the remaining hours. But it’s hard when you’re so restless.   //   The sunlight pierces through the window and into his eyes. He groans, shaken awake and brought to consciousness and to his head throbbing. His head aches and he feels sickly, the world swirling around him.    Jimin gets up and stumbles to the bathroom to relieve his bladder. He tries to wash his face afterwards and brush his teeth. When he leaves, he holds onto the door frame to brace himself and he hears noisy clanging in the kitchen that makes him wince.   He staggers out, shocked to see you. “What are you doing here?”   Jimin’s voice cracks and he moves to get water to quench his painful thirst. Your back stays turned to him.    “It’s one in the afternoon,” you state rather coldly, mumbling from the corner of your mouth. “I asked to come home early. I remembered I’m allowed to do that.”   He raises a brow and finishes drinking an entire bottle. “Are you still mad at me for forgetting our date night?”   It goes quiet. You don’t spare him a glance, simply putting the dishes away. The loud clanging has him flinching.   “I already said I’m sorry,” he reasons, “I got you flowers!”   You don’t know what he’s talking about and you don’t care to learn.   “Y/N.”   You came home to talk to him but now that he’s here, you know that you’ll regret what wants to come out. “Y/N.”   “Y/N,” Jimin repeats for the third time. He approaches and secures his hands on your shoulders, forcibly turning you around to face him. “Are you ignoring me?”   “Don’t touch me.” You shove his hands off of you, stepping back. His eyes frantically search your hurt expression and he’s utterly confused. “Please. Just don’t.”   “W-What’s wrong?”   “You don’t remember anything about last night?” you ask him, loudly, enough to strain your own voice.   Jimin winces again. “Can you not shout at me? I have a headache.”   “You said….you wanted to break up with me,” you whisper, unable to believe it yourself. When you say it with your own mouth, it stings and you want to burst out crying. Jimin watches the way your expression crumples and he pales.    It slowly comes back to him in waves, vague but he begins to remember bits and pieces, enough to know what he’s done.   “Hey.” Jimin reaches out, stepping closer. But he retracts his hand. “I’m sorry.”   “You always are.”   Maybe it shouldn’t be a big deal. He was drunk, inebriated, not in full control of his words — but to know he was even thinking about it, to know that he’s lined up the reasons for his dissatisfaction with your relationship, to hear it be said aloud, hurts.    “I’m sorry. I really am.” He searches the floor and musters the courage to lift his eyes. “You don’t believe me?”   “It’s not that I don’t believe you aren’t sorry,” you murmur, “I just think you’re sorry that I know what you think now.”   “Oh come on, babe. Y/N.” Jimin follows you to the living room. “I didn’t mean it.”   “Really?” You stop on your heel. You hate this — hate being upset and angry, hate feeling at a loss, hate spiraling out of control. “Not the part where you think I’m basically a huge burden to you now? Not the part where you want to get girls and go to parties and how I make you feel bad about doing the things you want? Not the part where you’re no longer pathetic enough to love me? Or what was it that you said, oh yeah, you’re not some sad guy pinning after me anymore.”   “I was drunk.”   “Were you? Or were they your sober thoughts?”   He sighs in frustration. Your loud voice is worsening his headache. And this isn’t what he wanted to do first thing he woke up — he doesn’t want to argue with you. But he doesn’t know how to make it stop.   “I think that it’s unfair you’re using this against me when I was wasted.”   “You told me that we should break up because we don’t even see each other anymore. Because what else was supposed to happen to us,” you softly whisper, crossing your arms, holding yourself. Now that he can answer clearly, now he’s not drunk anymore, there are no excuses. “So what is that you want from us, Jimin? Do I really make you feel guilty for doing the things you want to do? Is that how you feel about me now?”   “No, that’s not it. I’m...I’m sorry.”   “You’re selfish,” you say, spitefully. “That’s what you are. Always have been.”   Jimin scoffs outright. “Selfish?”   “All you think about is yourself. What you want. What you don’t have. What you’re missing out on. You’re supposed to think about the other person in a relationship. We’re supposed to sacrifice, compromise — and you’re not willing to do that. You don’t think about me for a second, Jimin.”   “Are you kidding me? I am trying my best! Everything I do is for us and our future together—”   “Really? I thought we didn’t have a future in your plans.”   He ignores your low jab. “I took care of you when you hated me. How’s that sacrifice for you?”   “Well nobody asked! Did they?”   “I love you!” Jimin shouts at the top of his lungs, making his throat dry again. “I’ve loved you longer than you loved me. Even when you were jealous of me, when you hated me, I loved you. And I still love you!”   “Then why did you tell me that I make you feel bad for doing what you want?!” you’re sobbing as the last word comes out, holding your face in your hands. Guilt swallows him whole.   “Because it does. I feel bad that I don’t get enough to spend enough time with you. I feel bad that we’re always waiting for the other person to come home. I feel bad about going out with the cast when I should be having fun and for taking on roles when I know it’ll be time consuming even though that’s been my dream.”   You’re sobbing, shaking your head. “W-What do you want me to do?”   “I don’t know.”    He can’t find a solution, and he’s most certainly not going to make you give up your dream. Jimin’s not going to ask or make you do anything.    Everything caused by ill timing. Caused by stress.    What’s the point of being in a relationship when you can’t even see each other?   It always seems like you have to choose each other or choose your ambitions.   Jimin wants to say boldly that he’ll figure it out with you — that he’ll find a way to do both. He wants to hug you, to embrace you, let you cry into his shoulder as he makes more meaningless apologies. He wants to say that with time, it’ll pass, that your schedules will clear up, that the pair of you will overcome this obstacle.   But he can’t bring himself to say it or to step forward.   “Maybe we should take a break.”   You’re taken aback.   A break? So he can do whatever he wants and thinks he can still have you?   “What’s that supposed to mean?”   “I don’t know,” Jimin admits. “I think we just need some time away from each other to figure this out.”   Without the obligation of having to see you, of having to maintain this relationship, the guilt would disappear. Maybe neither of you would have to feel so bad about yourselves.   But you persist in your questions. “Figure what out? Us?”   Jimin’s frustrated at why you don’t understand. “Well if you don’t like it, then maybe we should just cleanly break it off with one another. If that makes more sense to you.”   “Fine,” you hiss out of unadulterated spite.   His eyes widening, mouth dropping open. He’s shocked at your quick answer.   Jimin’s rendered speechless, breathless. “F-Fine then…”   “Get out of my apartment, Jimin.” You sniffle with your chest heaving.   He can’t believe it’s happening. Everything in his mind screams for him to stop, but his body moves on its own. Then the door slams shut.

[apenapaperandadoofus]

What Disney character would the RFA members be?

Yessss! I actually love this so much, I adoreeee Disney 🥺 I’ll add V and Saeran too! Btw this is just my opinion!

Also I for some reason did way to much research on this? Like?? I dunno lmao I got super into it pfttt

And if you want to add some other characters and stuff, feel free to do so!

RFA+ V and Saeran as Disney characters:

Zen:

Ya boi it’s Flynn Rider! First of all, they’re both super flirty lmao, and it’s just, you cannot tell me that Zen isn’t Flynn like holy shit! They’re both ambitious, and when they care for someone they will do whatever they can to protect them. Both Flynn and Zen have sad pasts who make them who they are now, aaandddd! They also have different names! Just wanted to point that out lmao.

If he were to be another one I’d say Pirince Naveen, from Princess and the Frog. They’re both super playful, and want to have fun, and they also really care deeply for people close to them!

And to add another one: Aurora! Both of them are elegant and hopeless romantics!

Yoosung:

Our sweet child Yoosung is Anna from Frozen!

Both of them are sweethearts, and they really want to find someone they can spend the rest of their lives with! At the same time, even though they may be a bit naïve, they’re both pretty brave! I mean (spoiler for Yoosung’s Route) the poor boi literally got his eye hurt for MC, and no matter what he insisted on going to Mint Eye with Seven. Both of them also really care about family, and they’re super loyal to them and everyone around them.

Another thing, it’s that both Yoosung and Anna are super playful, and bubbly! So I honestly think Yoosung would just be Anna. Imagine him singing love is an open door tho, that’d be fucking adorableeeeee

Jaehee:

Tiana, from Princess and the Frog!

First of all, they’re both so similar with the work a little harder theme, like honestly that’s all they ever do! They’re both super workaholic, which may sometimes get in the way for spending time with family and friends. Both Tiana and Jaehee are super intelligent and strong women! And they’re always there to help their friends. Honestly Jaehee and Tiana are queens 👑

And they both are passionate with something to do with food! Jaehee with her coffee shop and Tiana with her restaurant, so I think they’re just super similar.

Jumin:

Alright listen! So when I was doing this I mostly do it on similarities on personality and such, and for Jumin both Belle and Jasmine seem the most similar

First of all, Jasmine! Both Jumin and Jasmine are in a role where they have to be the perfect heir. While Jasmine rebels against it in various ways, Jumin is more subtle about it. Whenever his father tries a new business idea because of a woman he met, Jumin firmly tells his father no. Even when Sarah Choi or whatever her name is (fuck herrrr lmao) is supposed to get married to him, Jumin yeets her and goes nope. They both care deeply about what they’re supposed to be ruling (?) over, Jumin with his company and Jasmine with her kingdom. And lastly, they both care deeply for their friends and family, and would do anything for them!

Now with Belle, Jumin loves reading. That’s a thing they have in common, and the both of them are super smart, and love learning about new things. Like Belle, he doesn’t have many friends, and is pretty confident, Iike our boy Jumin ;)

Saeyoung:

Peter Pan

But not the animated one, it’s the one we all had a crush on when it was like 2003, this Peter Pan:

It’s absolutely perfect. Both him and Peter are super playful, they like joking around and just you know, living the high life.

But at the same time they’re both scared of their feelings. At one point, when Peter Pan and Wendy are dancing (best scene ever btw) Wendy asks Peter about his feelings, and Peter yells that no, he doesn’t care about anyone’s feelings and that he has none. He tells her that in the end everything was pretend and he doesn’t want to grow up, or admit his feelings for Wendy.

It’s like when Saeyoung was pushing away the MC, so they wouldn’t catch feelings for him. He wants to ignore his emotions and he feels they are useless. Also the gif above it’s perfect for my sweet child it’s adorable lmao.

There’s also Aladdin, because they’re both playful but they can be serious at times!

V:

Now for our boy V! I choose Tarzan and Elsa! Now you may be wondering, Amanda, what the hell?

Well let me explain!

First of all Elsa! (Ignoring the whole Let It Go part of course lmao) Both Elsa and Jihyun have had super traumatic experiences. V with Rika, and Elsa with literally almost killing her sister. Due to that, they both isolate from their friends and loved ones, to protect them. Elsa to protect them from her power, and V does it to protect them from Rika and Mint Eye. They both only want the best for their loved ones, and they don’t care if they have to sacrifice themselves. Jihyun and Elsa are scared of hurting those around them, Jihyun doesn’t want anyone in the RFA to be involved with Rika, to get hurt. That’s why I think Elsa and V are just super similar. They both repress how much they’re suffering on the inside, and they are always the ones acting as a shield for the rest. (Also it’s part of perfect because Yoosung is Anna holy crap Frozen/Mystic Messenger au????)

Now for Tarzan, of course it’s not everything that’s similar, but one thing they have in common is that they care deeply for family, no matter what. Even when Tarzan is being shunned by gorilla dad (or Yoosung -oh damn-) because he says that he’s not part of the family, Tarzan still does whatever he can to protect them.

Saeran:

Now, since our boy is actually like 6 boys (Unknown, Ray, Suit, Saeran GE, Saeran SE, and Saran Judge and Forgive)

So I did the ones in another story and Saeran post SE!

Ray: So! Our boy Ray reminds me so much of Rapunzel from Tangled! Both Ray and Rapunzel are both being kept in a tower (Ray’s tower being Mint Eye.) They’re both smart and creative, and well, they’re loyal (except to Saeyoung lmao.) I feel like Ray is also pretty artistic (he made the cute little emojis for himself and everything, just adorableeeee.) I honestly totally forgot about a Disney character that doesn’t want to be abandoned (maybe Jessie?) because Ray is scared of other people leaving him.

Now Suit! He was my favorite to do :P

He is The Beast! First of all, they’re both hot headed and they’re mad all the time, but beneath all that, they’re both hurting and lonely. Honestly I need a freaking AU of Suit Saeran as the beast, they’re just so similar! Even though they may seem distant and grumpy, they care about the MC in the same way. When the beast saw that Belle was actually pretty sad and everything, he got her a room (I mean he did feel pretty sad you could see it in his little face :( ) and Saeran actually tries to postpone the MC’s Mint Eye ceremony because he actually cares a lot about them (awww)

And for GE Saeran: I just see him as Pocahontas. They’re both mature, kind and loving, but they still have a playful side to them. Also they both love nature, and they are pretty smart. Good Ending Saeran just reminds me so much of Pocahontas honestly, because Saeran can be serious when he needs to, but he is also pretty mischievous and playful (I love the call where he’s like “HA got you to say what I wanted lmao”)

And now, SE Saeran: He reminds me of Kristoff.

At the beginning of the film, Kristoff is actually pretty selfish, and is uninterested on Anna’s stuff lmao. He’s a loner, and pretty cold (you know that’s what ice does to you pft) but he actually cares deeply about his family and friends, and he does have an actual fun side to him! Saeran in the SE is a loner too, he mostly shuts himself off and doesn’t really like to socialize (me thoooo) but even though he acts distant and like he doesn’t give a fuck, Saeran actually does give a fuck. He secretly cares about MC, his brother and maybe even the RFA members, even if he doesn’t show it. He is also pretty cold, and fiesty.

Bonus:

Since Hamilton is on Disney+ now, technically they’re all Disney characters so here are the RFA members as Hamilton characters, like imagine if they were to do the musical this would be the roles they’d get (also I won’t elaborate on my choices pft) oh and for the MC’s here’s a little guide just in case lmao

MC 1: Brown hair, no eyes the one and only lmao

Mc 2: Blonde hair, (I feel like she’s a Karen but don’t tell her I said that)

MC 3: red curly hair, she’s actually pretty hot like wtffff

MC 4: short hair, she’s the one that would be done with everyone’s bs lmao

MC 5: the beautiful unicorn pony thing lmao

Now, Hamilton:

Hamilton: Zen

Aaron Burr: Jumin

John Laurens/ Phillip: Saeran

LAFAYETTE/Thomas Jefferson: Saeyoung, yes Saeyoung

HercULES MULLIGAN: I dunno, MC 5 probably pft

Angelica: Saeyoung once again (he FOUGHT for the role alright?)

Eliza: Yoosung

And Peggy: MC 1

George Washington: Jaehee (hell yeah)

Charles Lee (I’m a general WHEEE): Rika fuck her pft

James Maddison: MC 2

Mariah Reynolds: Saeyoung once again, it was supposed to be MC 3 but Saeyoung pulled some strings and became Mariah Reynolds at the last minute and when Zen finds out after the whole ‘Say No to This’ he is triggered and is about to kill him

James Reynolds: MC 4

And that’s all I remember for now lmao, hope you enjoyed it :D

[glacecakes]

Alchemy Lullaby (7/?)

Of all the changes that came with living in the castle, becoming a father was not one he anticipated. When Eugene encounters a small child suffering like he did, he gives them the opportunity to grow up the way he never did... helping them both heal. (AU where Varian is 4 and gets adopted by Eugene)

Part 7: Varian spends his first Christmas with his family. There is no actual plot it's just fluff

Read the rest on AO3 

Part of an art trade for the lovely @finnoky once again! Finn is my partner in crime on this au so major shout out to him <3 Yes we are aware it is Halloween season but a) the timeline dictates Christmas and b) JUST LET ME HAVE MY CHRISTMAS SEROTONIN

Also a massive shoutout to the Scar Varian discord, who's support has cured my depression. And all of you! Seriously, the love for this fic is insane I don't know how to handle it lol. If you want more baby Varian content dm me! The Scar Varian server is where we brainstorm baby ideas like, daily. And it's a riot. If you have any ideas you wanna see for this AU send me an ask!  Also the next chapter is gonna be a world of pain enjoy this while it lasts

The castle was abuzz with joy. The maids flitted around the halls, some even humming as they strung up lights and garlands. The frosted windows shone light through their wreaths, basking everything in a wintery-white glow. Even Old Lady Crowley seemed less angry than normal, barking out orders at only half volume. 

Spinning around, Rapunzel hums an old Christmas song. She’s always loved this time of year! Christmas was watching snow, and cuddling up by the fire with chocolate, and cooking gingerbread…! There was so much to be excited about! Even if she never had an official Christmas with her family yet, her steps were light as a feather, confident in this year’s success. Her previous Christmases had been quiet, just her and sometimes Gothel. Now, she had a mother, a father, a boyfriend, and his son! To think, exactly one year ago she never would have thought this could be possible.

The princess twirled to a stop in the throne room. The place was decked to the nines, ribbons and garland and all sorts of red decorated every inch. And in the corner sat a perfect pine, already decorated head to toe. The candles shone down on a confused, pudgy face.

Varian tugged at one of the ornaments. Not hard enough for it to fall, but enough for it to jingle.

Oh, that’s right! She’s not the only one celebrating a first Christmas with family!

The little boy fiddled with the pine needles, marvelling at the bristles and poking soft fingers into needles. He stuck his tongue out and stood on his tiptoes, reaching for a candy cane tied to a higher branch. If only he was a little taller…!

Strong, warm hands wrapped around his stomach and lifted him skyward. 

“Need a hand?” 

Varian looked up at the princess and beamed. “Hi Punzel!”

“Hello, Varian. Did you want the candy cane?”

Varian blinked, confused. “No, I wanted the red hook.” He grabbed the candy cane off the tree and held up his prize. “See?” 

“That’s a candy cane, but it’s just for decoration. If you want actual candy canes, you can head down to the kitchens.” the princess gently took the decor from his hands. 

He frowned, trying to commit the term to memory. “What’s it for?”

“The candy canes?”

“No, the tree!” He yelled right into her ear. 

“Woah, inside voice.” Varian zipped his lip. “It’s for Christmas.”

“Ooooh. What’s that?” he asked.

Rapunzel’s smile fell off her face near instantly. How do you explain a holiday to a toddler…?

“Well, um,” she started. “It’s a day where we all get together and celebrate being a family. We exchange gifts under the tree, and eat snacks, and sing songs… there’s a lot of stuff to do! It’s very fun, you’ll like it a lot, I promise.” 

Thankfully, that seemed to satisfy him. “Celebrate family… like momma?”

“More like you, and me, and Eugene,” Well, and Cass and Lance and her parents, but no overwhelming the baby. Little at a time. 

Baby blue eyes glanced down at the floor. “But… momma is family.” 

There was no denying the wasps in her heart, stinging at the mention of Varian’s mother. How they burrowed deep, whispering how the boy saw Eugene as his father, but not Rapunzel as his mother. It was selfish, she knew it. Varian was much closer to Eugene, he was practically the man’s shadow. But as Eugene’s girlfriend (and hopefully future wife), there was no denying the wish for Varian to see her in a similar light.

Varian still saw that woman as family? That’s ok, he still needed time. Or maybe he’d always see her as family. That was ok too. But hopefully, they could assure Varian that his real family, his loving family, was there for him this Christmas.  

“Varian,” she whispered, gently lifting his chin to face him. “Family loves you, protects you. It’s ok if you still love your momma, but you weren’t safe with her. That’s why you have us now! We’re your family too, and we’ll celebrate Christmas with you, ok?” 

Varian nodded weakly, wrapping short arms around her waist. Outstretched arms squeezed him tight. Then, he broke off, skittering out of the throne room and likely towards the kitchen for those treats.

Rapunzel sighed as she watched him go. He was a smart little thing, learning faster than anyone could teach. On more than one occasion she spotted the precocious kid trying to heave a too heavy book around the library. One thing he was particularly fond of were the sciences. From Astronomy to Zoology, Varian ate it all up, greedily grabbing any book that even looked like it was informational. He was also a big fan of the Flynn Rider series, but that may be more because Eugene was so eager to share it with him. Ever since Lance told him Eugene used to be Flynn Rider, Varian assumed he’d meant the book Flynn, and his love for his dad became near fervent in nature. 

But while Varian adored learning about the world around him, there were certain things he struggled to pick up. Social cues were a big one. He was dreadfully shy around strangers, and a little hellion to those he knew. On one memorable occasion, Varian had insisted on dressing himself, resulting in a day of backwards shirts and missing pants. Anytime Eugene tried to fix it, he’d screamed like the man was stabbing him. 

Poor Eugene had needed a drink after that. 

The point is, Varian loved to learn, but he still struggled with sociability, not unlike Rapunzel when she first came home. It sounded like he grew up in the same way, isolated from other people, relying only on a controlling mother. Thankfully, Varian was saved at a much younger age. Rapunzel could only pray that meant he’d flourish now.

-

Varian struggled to understand the world around him sometimes. 

There were some things he understood perfectly well, like how Ruddiger was his friend. There were some things he knew were true but didn’t really get why, like how his family hated his momma. And there were some things he was completely lost on, which in this case, was Christmas. 

Everyone around him was so cheery, so lively, even more so than usual. Whenever he asked why, he got the same answer: It’s almost Christmas! Christmas is tomorrow! But when he asked what Christmas was, what Rapunzel meant by singing and eating and gifts, everyone had a different answer! How was he supposed to figure it out if everyone had a different idea of what Christmas was? 

Everyone was busy preparing for… something. Varian wasn’t sure what. A party, maybe? So soon after the last one? That party sucked, but at least he got to introduce Ruddiger to everyone.

After that debacle, Eugene hadn’t been so keen on letting Varian keep the baby raccoon. The boy wasn’t even 5 yet, how was he supposed to care for his own pet? Rapunzel mentioned she’d been about his age when she met Pascal, but apparently a chameleon and raccoon are two very different things. Bummer.

Eventually, they settled on a compromise: Ruddiger was an outdoor animal who belonged outdoors, but during the winter and night he was allowed to be inside. And once Varian got older, he might be allowed to keep Ruddiger full time! 

Since it was snowing today, Ruddiger got to happily trail the child, keeping close to his feet as they traversed the castle. He said hi to the maids and guards as he walked by, but right now, Varian was trying to find his family. He technically wasn’t allowed to wander the castle alone, but King Frederick was really the only stickler about that rule. Varian had survived 6 months on the street, he could survive the short walk to and fro. 

Just as he passed the kitchens, a sweet smell tickled his nose, followed by a deep, familiar voice singing. His pet noticed it too, already waddling into the kitchen. Varian followed, and sure, enough, Eugene’s best friend was there.

“Hi Lance!” Varian squeaked. He latched onto the burly man’s legs. 

Lance leaned down from his place by the stove. He’d just finished taking the gingerbread out of the oven, the golden brown sizzling on the sheet. Carefully, so as not to drop the sheet on the child, Lance set the cookies down with one hand and ruffled black hair with another. 

“Hey there, kiddo! I thought I told you to call me Uncle Lance,” he grinned at how Varian squirmed under his palm.

Varian giggled. “Eugene said you’re not really my uncle.” Those giggles doubled at Lance’s mock offended face. 

“After everything we’ve been through, after all I’ve done for him, and he won’t call me a brother!” He gripped his chest, and his knees sunk to the floor. “It hurts… my heart…” with an overdramatic wail, Lance fell back and squished Varian to the floor. His weight wasn’t entirely on this child, he didn’t want to crush him, but it was enough to send Varian sprawling. 

Honestly, Varian didn’t get why Eugene was so against him calling Lance his uncle. He didn’t even know what an Uncle was! Shrieking laughter emanated from the toddler. “Lance!! Get off!” He said.

“Sorry, can’t, Lance is dead.”

“Nooooo!”

“Yesssss, the only cure,” the thief sighed, “Is for a brave, smart kid to call him… uncle…”

“Uncle Lance!” Varian shrieked. “Uncle Lance get off!” Almost instantly he sat upright, freeing his prisoner. 

“I live!” He cried, scooping Varian up and standing. “Thank you, sweet child!” He smushed their cheeks together in joy, only letting go when he had to bat Ruddiger away from his creation. 

“No bud! Gingerbread is bad for raccoons… probably,” 

Varian hadn’t heard that word before. “Gingerbread?” It smelled so good, surely Lance wouldn’t mind if he stole one, right? The guy adored him.

“Ah-ah!” Lance spun away from the stove, cookies now out of reach. He ignored the whines. “Gingerbread cookies can only be eaten if they’re decorated.” Setting Varian on a nearby counter, the man grabbed a few icing pipettes and candy pieces. “Gingerbread men need gingerbread clothes!” 

The next hour was filled with messy cookies and sprawling icing. White sugar covered nearly every surface, as Varian couldn’t figure out the right pressure to use a pipette. Eventually he gave up, letting Lance do the drawing while he added buttons and eyes in the form of candies. Every so often, Varian would hand a small treat to Ruddiger, enjoying fuzzy whiskers that tickled his hand. It was a comfortable silence, both of them invested in their individual activity. By the time Lance finally spoke again, the sun had tracked across the room and shone through the window. 

“So,” he said, tongue sticking out as he drew a face onto his cookie. “Why Eugene?” His companion stuck his head up, confused. He licked the sugar off his fingers. “What about him made you want to stay with him?”

Varian glanced down, deep in thought. “He’s nice,” he started. “He gives me lots of hugs, and makes me laugh.”

“Yea? What else?”

“Eugene is… super cool! He’s pretty, and he let me keep Ruddiger, and he loves me…” his small voice trailed off. The heat from sunlight warmed his bones, layering him in laziness. A yawn escaped him. 

He was just about to doze off, mind still trying to think of compliments, when soft knocking shook him awake. Cassandra nodded at him, bundled up in her winter coat. 

“It’s high time someone got fresh air,” She said in her monotone voice, so Varian slid off the counter to join her. He waved to Lance on the way out, and off they went. 

No sooner than they left, Rapunzel peeked her head in. “Hey Lance! I have an idea…”

-

Ruddiger zoomed ahead, happily digging up snow and dirt to catch a meal. The winter sun was bright yet also weak, sparkling off snow mounds. Varian’s small boots kicked up powder as he walked, each step more exaggerated than need be. He gripped Cassandra’s hand tightly. Out of everyone Varian frequently interacted with, she scared him the most… except maybe for the King. But he trusted her not to let him get hurt, not after saving him from the Stabbingtons. 

Sure enough, she whispered “Careful, it’s slippery.” And lifted him up and over the patch of ice with just her hands. 

“Wow, you’re really strong,” She raised her eyebrow at him. 

“I have to be, it’s my job to keep Rapunzel safe.”

Just Rapunzel? Not him, not Eugene? What about the king? Didn’t they need protecting? Thankfully, Cassandra saw his confused face and smiled faintly. “And you, someone’s gotta clean up after you.”

“Eugene said it’s rude to leave things for the maids to clean up.” 

A look akin to shock overtook her face. She stopped walking, temporarily startled, forcing Varian to stop with her. “He said that?” A nod. “Huh. Guess he’s not a terrible father after all.”

That caught the child’s attention. Rage simmered in his gut, bubbling and twisting his insides around. He glared up at her with a look he hoped was intimidating, but judging by her veiled laughter, he’d failed. A booted foot stomped the snow, and by his side small black spikes sprouted. It wasn’t noticeable, only as tall as his shoelaces, but it was there regardless. Just as fast as it appeared, the rage fell down his body and leaked out into the earth.

“Don’t call Eugene bad,” Varian pouted, cheeks puffing up and lip jutting out. “He’s the best!”

“Oh yea? Why’s that?” Cassandra teased, resuming their walk. 

“He’s a reallllllly good reader. Like, really good. And he’s smart,” That got a laugh. “And he saved me!” 

“So did I,” she reminded him, but that just got her frustrated boot shuffles. At last the handmaiden took pity on him. “Ok, ok. I’m sorry I called Eugene a bad dad. He loves you very much, and you love him.” He preened. 

He went to speak, but soft crunches interrupted his train of thought. From around the bend, two familiar and burly men step into view. 

“...no word from either of them, but Hector never answers my letters anyway-” Quirin was speaking, with Frederick hanging onto his every word. Their faces were both solemn, stoic and businesslike. Whatever they were talking about, it was likely serious. But the seriousness evaporates when Quirin catches sight of the young child. “Hello there!” Frederick’s face remains impassive, but he seems to let the subject drop. At least for now. 

Something about Quirin just screams welcoming to Varian. It’s strange. His time on the streets as well as his encounter with the Stabbingtons should have made Varian terrified of men like him, but Quirin’s autumn scent and warm smile relaxed Varian. He grinned his toothy smile and waved. 

“Your majesty,” Cassandra bowed. The King nodded, and she stood back up. He gave Varian a nod as well, but he had no idea to react. Bow? Smile? Hide? All of those options sounded like a bad idea, so he just stood still for now. 

“Hello, Cassandra, Varian.” The latter name was said with a hint of apprehension. “Enjoying the weather?”

“Yes sir,” The lady-in-waiting responded, and she gently nudged Varian. He nodded frantically, so fast his head might as well have flown off. Quirin seemed amused, at least. 

“Don’t stay out too long, we don’t want this young man to catch a cold,” Quirin ruffled Varian’s hair, and the child blushed. 

“We won’t, sir.” Cassandra bowed to him as well. Satisfied, they moved on, leaving Varian and Cassandra to finish their walk around the castle ground. “Cassie? Who is Quirin?” 

She seemed surprised by the question. “Who is he? I think he’s an advisor, or something.”

“A what?”

“He helps the king.”

Varian’s mouth dropped open in an “o” shape. Who knew Kings needed help? Not him, that’s for sure! 

“Come on, let’s go inside, it’s getting cold.” She led him away, until Varian couldn’t see either man when he turned around. 

“As I was saying, Adira is hard to track down, but-” Quirin’s words halted as he stumbled over something. “What the…” A small cluster of black rocks, innocent and unflinching. The men shared a nervous glance. 

When Cassandra dropped Varian off inside, she watched as Varian toddled off to find Eugene, turned around, and came face to face with a Rapunzel grinning like a maniac. 

The princess covered her friend’s mouth before she could scream. “Come on! I need your help. We only have a few more hours!” Without any explanation, Cass found herself being dragged off to god knows where. 

-

Waking up on the early side was not new to Varian. Ever since he’d come to the castle, Eugene would drag him out of bed no later than 9:30 am. And he’d learned to adapt, even if Varian preferred to get up when the sun’s rays were directly overhead. But 7 was really pushing it. 

“Noooo!” He whined, clutching his sheets like a lifeline. “I don’t wanna get up!” 

Eugene grunted from where he was holding his legs. For a 4 year old Varian had a hell of a grip. “Come on, kid, you can go back to sleep when we’re done if you want! Don’t have to change out of your pjs either. But you gotta get up now or you’re gonna miss your surprise.” 

“Nooooo!” Varian wailed, burying his head into the duvet. 

“Yesssss.” 

With one final tug, Eugene managed to dislodge his child from his bed, sending them both sprawling on the floor. They laid there for a moment. Eugene questioned his life choices as Ruddiger rounded the bed and licked his face. 

He carried Varian down the corridor to the throne room. At this early hour, the only people about were night shift guards preparing to turn in. A strange quiet filled the castle, a sense of peace lingered. It would be a nice experience if Varian wasn’t bone-tired. Honestly who decided that 7 am was a normal time to get up? It was understandable during the summer, but not at Christmas!

Grand doors swung upon, revealing the same setup as yesterday, only several people sat under the tree. Familiar blonde hair swung around to reveal Rapunzel’s exuberant face. By her side stood her family plus Lance and Cass, all looking tired but content. Presents sat scattered, surrounded by pine needles that had fallen. 

“Merry Christmas!” She cried as she stood up and ran over. Both boys found themselves in a trademark bear hug. “It’s our first Christmas as a family, how exciting!” 

“Sunshine, you’re squishing meeee!” Eugene wheezed, face turning red. The princess paid him no heed, leading him (and by extension, Varian) over to the pile. Several gifts with multiple names in fun colors and patterns awaited them. It was at this time Varian realized he knew how to read most things, but his name was not one of them. Thankfully, Rapunzel was eager to hand out everyone’s gifts. Slowly Varian’s pile grew larger and larger.

Cassandra winced. “I think you went a little overboard, Raps,” 

“Nonsense! What makes you say that?” Cassandra pointed to where Varian sat by a pile larger than himself. He leaned against Eugene, eyes drooping. 

The man rustled his shoulder. “Wake up, kiddo, open your presents.”

“My what?”

“All those boxes, they’re for you! They have fun stuff inside them.”

“Like what?”

The gathering broke into chuckles. “Why don’t you find out?” asked Arianna. 

Curious eyes grabbed the largest box and fingers ran across its paper. Happy snowmen decorated the outside, and he was loathe to destroy it. But Rapunzel gave him a thumbs up, and that was all the invitation needed. With a war cry, Varian ripped off smiling snowmen with claw and fang. Even Ruddiger joined in on the mayhem, happily shaking his head as he held a piece of wrapping paper. The box gave way to…. Another box? But this one was on wheels.

A cart! A painted cart! It was light blue, just like his hair, and painted on the side was a name. Varian ran his fingers over it in confusion. 

“Ruddiger,” Eugene whispered. “It says Ruddiger. So he can stay with you.” Varian’s eyes lit up in understanding. Without any pomp, he scooped up the raccoon and plopped him straight into the cart, much to Ruddiger’s confusion. Then, like a shot out of a canon, they were off. Varian screeched with delight as he zoomed around the throne room, wheels clacking against the marble floor as Ruddiger chittered in similar joy. 

“So, I think he likes it!” Rapunzel chimed. 

“He better,” Cassandra muttered. She was not a fan of staying up till midnight to help Rapunzel wrap her last-minute Christmas gifts. Lance got to do the easy part, too. All he had to do was sign! Meanwhile Cassandra nearly broke her nail for that one gift. 

“Varian, you can play with that some more after the rest of your gifts! Come say thank you!” Eugene called. The child skidded to a stop, happily launching himself at Rapunzel for a hug. 

“Thank you Punzel! Love you!” He pressed a wet kiss to her cheek. It should’ve been gross, but to her, it was perfect.

Eugene smiled from his seat on the floor. It was pretty damn perfect to him too.

[sonicgetsrawed]

Raindrops Keep Falling, You Slip Through My Fingers Every Time

Played a bit with reincarnation themes! So have varigo fun times through different au’s and settings! Enjoy!

The rain fell lightly on the sidewalk. Hugo watched as Varian stood out in it, hands outstretched as he attempted to catch the droplets, face turned to the sky. Lightning split the sky, thunder following closely behind. Varian didn’t acknowledge it, his soaked clothes weighing heavily on his small form. Hugo watched as a droplet landed on the boy’s nose, traced it as it made its way down, over his lips, over the curvature of his chin, to the lovely slope of his neck, finally to join its brothers and sisters in the fabric of his shirt. He brought his eyes back up to his face, water gathered around Varian’s eyes. Were they tears? Were they from the rain? He’d never know, it wasn’t his place to ask. He only knew the boy through the glass of his window. He glanced back to the book on his lap, tapping his pencil to his lips as he worked to solve the problem within, when he looked back up Varian was gone. He always was elusive like the flow of time, one moment there, the next gone, always slipping through his fingers, never his to keep.

********************

The muddy water splashed Hugo’s face as Varian jumped in another puddle. He wiped it off his glasses, not that it did much good, Varian was already jumping again. “Will you stop being so childish?”

Varian briefly glanced over his shoulder at Yong and Nuru as they spun each other around in the rain, a small smirk gracing his lips. “Childish, am I?”

Hugo’s eyes went wide, taking a small step back as Varian reached down to grab a handful of mud. “Varian, don’t you dare.” Despite his words a smile forced its way onto his face. He didn’t bother dodging as the mud hit him squarely in the chest, instead he bent down picking up his own handful. “You’re going to pay for that.”

Varian laughed, running as Hugo gave chase. Their battle didn’t last long, Varian somehow convincing Yong and Nuru to help him. He was on his back now as the three loomed over him, Varian menacingly holding the last of their mud ammunition. “Surrender now, and we might spare your life.”

Hugo couldn’t help but laugh as he gave his answer. “Never!”

The three exchanged a look, Varian giving a small nod as they came to a silent decision. “So be it.” Varian took a step forward, arm poised to strike, before slipping on the wet ground. He fell right on top of Hugo, blinking owlishly from the disorientation the fall caused. Hugo brought his hand up to cup his face, the mud smearing along his cheek. He still looked heavenly, his wet hair dripping around them, mud caked to every inch of him. Hugo pulled him down into a kiss, relishing in the way Varian melted against him.

“Truce?” He asked, breaking the kiss briefly.

Varian nodded. “Yeah, truce.” He captured Hugo’s lips again, not caring about the mud that was being spread in his hair as Hugo tangled his fingers in it. Hugo closed his eyes, melting just as much as Varian. When he opened them Varian had his back to him, shoulders shaking with sobs as he locked himself inside the eternal library. It had rained that day too, and he’d let Varian slip away.

*******************

Hugo let the rain mix with the salty air of the sea, the feeling intoxicating against his skin. They had just raided Corona and had come back with more bounty than he could be bothered to count. It was wonderful, or at least it should be if their hostage wasn’t so annoying.

“Hey, jackass! I know you can hear me! Let me go right this fucking minute!” Hugo rolled his eyes, handing the wheel over to Nuru before approaching the pole that their captive was tied to. He was a pretty thing, if it weren’t for that mouth he had on him, still he knew he’d fetch them a pretty penny at the auctions.

“I don’t think you're in the position to make demands.” Hugo placed his dagger under his chin, bending down so they were face to face. His breath caught in his throat, he hadn’t seen him this close before. The blue of his eyes was absolutely breathtaking, the fire that burned behind them, the way his freckles accentuated them, the way his front teeth stuck out ever so slightly, and that wonderfully unique blue streak in his hair. Yes, he’d definitely fetch them a nice amount of gold, but then again he just might keep him for himself. “My, you are pretty aren’t you?”

“And your pretty fucking annoying.” He snapped back, eyes narrowing in a way that made them sharper than the dagger at his throat.

Hugo tilted his head, a laugh bubbling up from between his lips. “You’re pretty feisty for nobility. You got a name, sweet cheeks?”

“Fuck you.” He spat in Hugo’s face, the other clicking his tongue as he wiped it from his face. Oh, he’d definitely be keeping him.

Hugo pushed himself to his feet, dragging the dagger up forcing him to follow his movements. “Have fun sleeping in the rain, dear. Maybe you’ll be more cooperative in the morning.”

“You can’t leave me out here!” Hugo smirked as he made his way to the warmth of the captain’s chambers. “Hey!” He ignored his screams and slew of curses as he twirled a gold coin between his fingers. If he knew how hard he’d fall for the other in just a few weeks he’d have ran back out and scooped him into his arms, kept him safe from all the horrors of the world. But he didn’t, so he let him sit out in the rain, oblivious to fate’s cruel game.

*********************

He didn’t ask for this, frankly he figured he’d spend the rest of his days trapped in this awful curse. He had expected to, no one could ever love him, he had accepted that fate even. And then Varian came, noble in his quest to stay in captivity in his father’s place. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him, but the other made it near impossible. He was smart, talented, he wore his heart on his sleeve, he was so caring, everything he wasn’t, everything he didn’t deserve. It was impossible to stop himself from falling.

Varian held the mirror close to his chest, fingers brushing the metal around its frame. “He’s sick.” His blue eyes met his green, a silent plea in them. Hugo wanted to be selfish, he really truly did, but Varian’s eyes watered with the fear that he might not be able to see his father before he passed, and Hugo may look like a monster, he had been changed now.

He cupped Varian’s face, cherishing the way he leaned into his hand. “Go to him.”

“But-“

“It’s okay. You’re free now.” Hugo blinked away his own tears as Varian’s slid down his cheeks.

“Thank you.” Varian flung his arms around Hugo, holding him tightly before breaking away and running out the door. Hugo turned to the window, finally letting his own tears go. The patter of the rain was soothing, although he hated how it blurred his vision when all he wanted to do was watch Varian disappear into the rainy night. He brought his hand to the window, a stupid attempt at stopping Varian, he needed to be free. Try as he might, he couldn’t catch the rain.

********************

“Varian, you don’t have to do this!” He was desperate now. Varian couldn’t leave him, he couldn’t, he didn’t want to be alone. “I can change.” It was spoken so small, he didn’t know if Varian heard it over the pounding of the rain, a last plea to get him to stay.

Varian turned harshly, the water spinning around him. “You can change?! You said that last time, Hugo!”

“Var, please-“

“No, Hugo! I- I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be with you anymore.” Varian’s shoulders shook, the rain getting harsher as his emotions spiraled. The rain moved around him, never touching him. Hugo reached out, lightning cracking in the sky. Varian’s breath hitched, shuddering from the impact, while each droplet burned Hugo’s skin. Water and electricity never mixed, and still they insisted they’d make it work. “We can’t change what we are.”

Varian turned to walk away, gasping when Hugo grabbed his arm, his face scrunching up in pain. Hugo tightened his grip. “Please, I need you. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Varian sobbed. In a desperate move Hugo pulled him closer, slamming their lips together. They had never kissed before, they couldn’t when every touch hurt the other, he shouldn’t have done it, but he had been certain their love would be enough to contradict their very being, it had worked before for other couples. He was hoping it would be the same for them. It wasn’t.

Varian slumped against him, eyes dull as the electricity ran through his veins, tearing him apart from the inside, the rain now soaking his clothes. He felt nothing as he lowered him to the ground, no light in his eyes as he cupped Varian’s cheek. He held his body close, not caring about the burning sensation that filled him with each drop. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I thought it would work. Please, come back. I’m sorry.” He looked to the sky as he rocked back and forth, silently pleading with whatever cruel god was up there to bring Varian back. The rain would never stop now that he was gone. The rain would always remind him of what he had done.

*********************

“Have you found your soulmate yet?” Varian rolled his eyes as Rapunzel leaned over the counter, eyes glistening in anticipation for him to answer the question.

“No. I don’t think I have one.” He avoided her eyes, instead focusing on his book.

“Nonsense! Everyone has one.” Before he could protest she grabbed his right wrist, forcing the sleeve of his sweater up. Everyone had an inscription on the inside of their right wrist, whether it be a name or a phrase. Everyone except him.

“Rapunzel!” He hissed, pulling his arm back hoping she didn’t see. Her wide eyes told him she did.

“Var, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, he knew he wasn’t the easiest to love, but he had hoped someone out there was destined for him. Instead he had no mark, no love, nothing to look forward to. He stuffed his belongings in his bag, wanting nothing more than to snuggle into bed with Ruddiger and a nice cup of hot cocoa. He hesitated, their highlighters were so close together, he couldn’t tell which was Rapunzel’s pink and which was his whatever color he got. He had never been able to see color, another thing that made him different. He was too frustrated to care in the moment grabbing one at random and stuffing it in his bag. “See you tomorrow.”

He headed out the door before Rapunzel could protest, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head, letting out a small huff of annoyance. Normally he didn’t mind the rain but he already wasn’t in the greatest mood, this was just another inconvenience to add to the list. He turned starting his walk home, when someone came barreling into him. His world exploded in color, the new ability sending his head spinning, or perhaps it was from him hitting the pavement.

“Shit. Are you okay?” Varian stared up at the outstretched hand, and into the most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen.

“I’m-“

“It’s okay, take your time. We can go somewhere and talk.” Varian nodded numbly, taking the man’s hand, he didn’t let it go, scared that if he did the world would go back to black and white. “I’m Hugo, by the way.”

“Varian.” He responded, letting what he was certain was his soulmate lead him down the street.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a mark either?” Hugo asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

“No.” He hated how little he was able to say, normally once he got going it was hard to stop, so of course he’d be tongue tied in front of the one person he wanted to impress.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you.” Varian glanced up at Hugo, a soft smile on his face as he looked ahead. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

Varian traced the lines of Hugo’s face with his eyes, the scar on his eyebrow, the softness of his hand, the way he was just perfectly taller than him. He felt comfortable here, he felt like he’d known him forever. “Yeah, I think I do.” He looked to the sky, the rain slowing considerably as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, giving him hope for their future. For once he looked forward to it, whatever twists and turns there may be, he had Hugo for eternity.

[fitzherbertssmolder]

Make Me A Masterpiece 6/13

In her final year of college, Rapunzel is struggling to create her final art project. That is until she runs into the beautiful stranger who’s hiding out in the library.

or the one where art student Rapunzel asks literature nerd Eugene to be her model (modern-day au)

Eugene twirls his pen in between his fingers, purses his lips and then proceeds to write down a thought in his bright yellow notebook.

 “Question” he says, his hand moving back and forth across his page frantically. “If you could have any pet, what would it be?”

 Rapunzel laughs as she watches him work, each new little quirk of his bringing her more joy than the last. It had started off with him wrinkling his nose when he first opened his book, settling down to start reading. He had relaxed a little more in his chair and kicked his feet up onto the empty one next to him, his finger following along with his eyes as he moved from line to line. Now, she observes him as he’s twirling his pen and pursing his lips as he thinks of an idea and rushes to write to it.

 If she’s being honest, she’s enjoying this a little too much. It shouldn’t be very interesting watching someone quite literally sit and read, but she can’t seem to help it, even when she has her own work on the table in front of her. This morning she woke up feeling inspired and had made it all of five seconds before she was texting Eugene and asking if he was free for a study session. Every time after he had offered to help her, she began to feel guilty, Eugene was spending so much time on her studies that she wanted to offer up something to help in return. After her suggestion, he had agreed easily giving her the term that she would take him anywhere outside of the apartment - apparently Lance isn’t the best study partner.

 So, that’s how it had been over the last two weeks, one of them asking for a place to study and the other asking for a distraction. It worked perfectly. Currently, they’re sat in the Cafe at a table way in the back corner, Rapunzel attempting to draw and Eugene writing an essay on the book he is reading for class.

 Rapunzel hums quietly and eventually draws another line on her page. “A chameleon.”

 He lifts his eyes to hers from over his book, one eyebrow raised. “A chameleon?”

 “They’re cute.”

 “They’re just overgrown frogs.”

 They’ve been keeping up the question game as well. It had worked so well the first time that Eugene suggested they just keep doing it.

 “Okay animal expert, what about you?” she asks him, pointing her pencil in his direction and swirling it in a circle as she waits.

 “Easy, a grasshopper.”

 “Ah!” she says, her pencil flying in the air as she leans back in her chair. “Perfect food for my chameleon.”

 Eugene drops his book, lowers it down to his lap and throws her an offended look. It’s annoying how cute he looks like this. One of his hands slams down on the table as he leans that little bit closer over to her. “Excuse me. Grasshoppers are wise and independent; they would not end up as food!”

 Her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “You started it.”

 “I was simply stating a fact.”

 “So was I.”

 “Okay” he says nodding his head slowly, retreating away until he’s sat up straight again, staring her down. “I’ll let you have your chameleon. But when you lose it to a game of hide and seek don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 She can’t help but laugh and she’s not sure if she’s laughing at Eugene sulking or the imagery of losing hide and seek to a chameleon. It’s probably both. She pauses drawing in favour of sipping at her coffee, some latte concoction Eugene had recommended, and lets her eyes wonder back over to him. Across the table, he has gone back to his book, but she can hear him laugh too, it’s not as loud as hers though as he tries to keep up his annoyed act and his smile hidden between his pages. 

 “That any good?” she asks, nodding towards the book in question. 

 She hasn’t asked him what it was that he was reading, wanted to save herself the embarrassment of never having heard of it before, but he hasn’t said much about it since they sat down and it has her curious.

 “What?”

 “The book? You enjoying it?”

 “Of course.”

 She lets out a hum. “The look on your face says otherwise.”

 He swaps his book to one hand and pulls his mug closer with the other deciding to play with the handle instead of drinking anything. “It’s fine. It’s just-” he sighs “-tragedies are not my thing.”

 “Question then” she states, and he smiles at her copying his announcement from before. “What is your thing?”

 It goes quiet for a moment around them as Eugene thinks it over, lifting his mug and actually taking a sip from it this time. After Eugene’s recommendation she had offered up one of her own going for her traditional sugar filled cappuccino. The look he had given her was one that had her howling on the inside. He places his drink back on the table, fingers still tapping on the porcelain.

 “I like adventures and romance and happy endings. I just don’t see why someone has to die to make it epic.”

 “You don’t think you can have a death and it still be a happy ending?”

 “You can if they come back to life.”

 Rapunzel rolls her eyes playfully and steals the last sugar cube from the pot provided, popping it into her drink. She doesn’t miss Eugene’s flinch at her extraordinary sweet tastes.

 “What, you don’t believe in resurrection?” he questions sending her a soft smirk.

 “It’s not really realistic.”

 “It’s fiction, it’s not supposed to be realistic.”

 Okay, so he has a point, but she won’t give him the satisfaction of being right. Instead she’s stays quiet and nods, waving her hand at him in the only gesture of surrender she’s willing to give. His smile widens on cue and he leans back into his chair, the perfect picture of smug. “Besides, I think it would be cool to come back to life.” Of course, he would. “Maybe I would even come back with supernatural abilities. Maybe super strength or magical healing powers.”

 “That’s what you want in life, superpowers?”

 He shrugs slightly, picking up his pen, beginning to doodle something in the corner of his page. “I just think it would be cool to help people. To have the ability to heal those who can’t heal themselves.”

 The way Eugene says it is way too casual for the way her heart leaps in her chest. He says it like it’s nothing, like saving the world is no big deal to him and here she is melting. It’s just one of the things that she’s learnt about him during their time together - how much he cares about things. He sees the world as something he needs to take care of but doesn’t think he has enough impact to actually do it. It’s clear in the way he shrugs off every one of her thank you’s or how he never thinks that dropping everything for Lance when he calls is a big deal.

 “You don’t need superpowers to help people Eugene.” Taking his lead, she shuffles forward in her seat and picks up where she left off on her drawing. “I think you’re doing a great job without them.”

 He doesn’t answer her, but she can see him smiling and she thinks she might be a little bit in love with that smile. It’s really a miracle that she hasn’t drawn it today, it’s always the first thing she goes for. But she wasn’t lying when she said she was inspired. It’s been her first breakthrough since the assignment was set and this time, she thinks she might have an actual plan. All this time she’s been focused on the emotion she’s supposed to convey that she failed to focus on how emotions are told. One mention of this to Eugene and he was more than happy to be the model. So now she’s spent the last few hours capturing any emotion she can find in place where Eugene holds all his expression, his eyes.  

 She looks up at him again, pencil placed right on the tip of his brow, and asks him to wiggle the real thing just a little just so she can get the right angle. He does it without question but throws in a well-practised brow dance for fun.

 “You really think my eyebrows are going to help you graduate?” Eugene asks, his eyes gleaming.

 “No, but they’re so perfectly manicured I can’t resist adding them.”

 He laughs. “I would think so.”

 “I haven’t worked out all the details” she starts, shading and erasing and shading again. “But it’s the first idea I haven’t actually hated.”

 “What does your adviser say?” It comes out muffled as he says it more into his book than to her, his focus on the line he’s reading. She doesn’t mind though; her adviser has been driving her crazy lately so the little she talks about her the better. 

 “Nothing yet. I have a meeting with her on Wednesday, so I guess I’ll find out then.”

 He looks up at her, pen freezing in place. “Make sure you let me know what she says about my eyebrows.”

 A giggle escapes her before she can stop it and it echoes a little too loudly in the quiet corner they’re in. It’s only interrupted when a light ringing comes from Eugene’s phone. Coming out of his own laughter, he picks it up, unlocks the screen and sits back in his chair as he reads. Usually, she’s not one to be nosy, especially when it comes to people’s messages, but when she watches Eugene frown at his phone and her curiosity surges.

 “You okay?” she asks casually, fiddling with her pencil as she pretends to draw and not pay attention to his private life.

 His eyes lift to hers and his head is shaking as he sighs out a laugh. “Yeah I’m fine.” He abandons his phone back on the table, pushing it further away, ignoring it completely as it rings again.

 She’s just about to ask him if he’s sure he’s okay again when a voice interrupts her.    

 “Well someone’s being grumpy.”

 The voice comes from behind her, deep and booming, and she moves her head immediately to the source. Standing next to their table is Lance, bag slung over his shoulder and a script tucked under his arm. She hasn’t actually met Lance yet, only seen him in photos and responded to a few of his comments, but as he shoves Eugene over to the next chair and takes his place in his now vacant seat, she knows she's going to love him already.

 Ignoring Eugene’s grumble, he sends one arm flying over Eugene’s shoulder and the other one stretches out in Rapunzel’s direction.

 “We haven’t had the chance to actually meet” he announces, voice dripping with confidence. He’s just as dramatic as she thought he would be. “Lance. The best friend and room mate of this idiot here.” He nods his head in Eugene’s direction and rolls his eyes at Eugene’s small offended yelp.

 “Rapunzel.” She’s laughing as she takes his hand in hers and lets him shake it vigorously. “The study buddy of the idiot.”

 “I am right here!” Eugene moans from the corner, doing his best to move around Lance and move his supplies to his new side of the table. He aims for his coffee but fails when Lance is scooping it up first and not hesitating before he takes a sip. She watches as his eyes widen and snap up to hers. 

 “A little sugary?” she suggests with a smile.

 Lance is shaking his head before she finishes the question, going in for another sip. “Now you have good taste princess.”

 “Princess?” Her eyebrow quirks up at that, looking over to Eugene for any type of help. It takes him a couple seconds to register the plea before he’s sitting up and pointing towards the flower crown on top of her head.

 “He’s been rehearsing some Shakespearean play all week and keeps coming home talking about fairies and royals. I’ve lost count on how many flower crowns he’s asked me to wear.”

 Lance’s jaw drops as he lets out an offended gasp, slapping his hand against his chest. “Firstly, that Shakespearean play is the wonder that is A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” He moves his arm from Eugene’s shoulder to throw it around his neck, locking it in place as he fluffs his hair with his free hand. “Secondly, you would look adorable in a crown.”

 She has to agree with that.

 Using his best effort, Eugene tries to break free, twisting his body out of Lance’s grip. However, when he comes a little too close to her coffee cup, he decides to give up in favour of not repeating their first coffee fiasco. It just encourages Lance to rub more though and she’s pretty sure Eugene will end up walking out of here with a static hair Mohawk. She is pretty much helpless to his case at this point, so she sits back and has fun just watching their dynamic play out.

 It’s only when Eugene let’s out a desperate sob of protest that she finally chips in to help.

 “I have a question for you Lance.” It’s said loud enough for him to hear over Eugene’s pleads. She ignores Eugene’s glare at her bringing Lance into their little question game and instead focuses on how Lance lights up like a Christmas tree. He removes himself from his helpless friend and turns to fully face her, elbows on the table and his chin perched in his palms.

 “You have my full attention.”

 “Would you make me a flower crown?” Lifting her arms up, she takes the one she’s wearing off her head and spins it around her fingers. “This one is a little old and it sounds like you have all the expertise.”

 Lance looks delighted. He reaches over to take the crown from her, twisting it in his hands like how she had just done, inspecting the slightly broken flowers and fraying wire. She’s not exactly sure what he’s looking for, but he seems satisfied enough and hands the crown back.

 “I like you” he says, a smirk curving his lips, picking up Eugene’s coffee again and finishing the rest of its contents in a gulp. “Maybe I should have met you first.”

 She lets out a snort. “Are you saying you like me better than Eugene?”

 “That is exactly what I’m saying.”

 “Okay” Eugene says, pushing Lance on his shoulder causing him to sway in his seat. He keeps both of his hands up in defence, one in Lance’s direction and one in hers. There are small lines on his forehead from where he’s frowning and she makes a note to draw them just to torment him with later. “We’re supposed to be writing an essay here, not pointing out all my flaws.”

 “But isn’t the point of an essay? To see something from both sides?” she says sweetly, eyes dancing as she stares at him.

 “Well I could think of a few things to say about Eugene. Did you know he sleeps-”

 Whatever Lance was about to say she never finds out, Eugene stunning him into silence with a death look.

 “Why are you still here?” Eugene mumbles from where he’s slumped in his chair, arms crossed in front of him. “I thought you said you had lines to run after your shift?”

 “Oh I do, but you’re going to help me.”

 Eugene lifts a brow. “Am I now?”

 “Yep” Lance says, popping the p dramatically. He turns to face his friend, poking him lightly in the chest with his finger. “You made me a promise. I do face masks with you, you run lines with me.”

 Rapunzel beams at this new detail. “You do face masks?”

 “Of course he does.” Lance grabs the bottom of Eugene’s chin, squishes it between his fingers and begins to swing it left to right. “You don’t get smooth skin like this without a bit of self-care.”

 Rolling his eyes, Eugene finally bats Lance’s hands away, holding them in place far away from himself. “Are we going to run those lines or are you going to stay and be annoying?”

 He pretends to think about it for a moment before looking back over to Rapunzel. “Mind if I steal him princess?”

 She shakes her head and waves a hand in their direction. “Go ahead.”

 “You sure?” Eugene asks and she’s not sure if he’s genuinely concerned about her art or his own sanity.

 “I’m sure.”

 “You are the best” Lance is saying as he starts gathering up all of Eugene’s supplies before he has a chance to do so himself. Although, he’s quick to join in when Lance haphazardly throws his book in his bag and Eugene gawks at the mistreating. Book nerds and their priorities. Once all the supplies are away, he scoots his chair back and pauses before standing up, his eyes lighting up with an idea.

 He points a finger towards her. “Are you free this Friday?”

 “Yeah” she nods. She’s free every Friday, but he doesn’t need to know that.

 “Would you be up for a mission?”

 “A mission?”

 “It’s this thing the drama students do before a show” Eugene answers for her, already looking done with the idea. “They get into teams and-”

 “And it’s a secret.” Lance interrupts him, rushing to shut Eugene up with a hand slapped over his mouth. “Don’t listen to grumpy here, it’s a sacred tradition and you would be a very useful addition to the team.”

 Eugene yanks his hand away from his mouth and uses Lance’s shirt sleeve to wipe himself clean. “I don’t really think you can call the two of us a team.”

 “You can even bring someone.” He continues, ignoring Eugene entirely. “It will be fun I promise.”

 “Sure. I’ll bring my room-mate and then maybe Eugene won’t be the only grumpy one there.”

 Lance’s smile is feral. “Now that is an excellent idea.”

When she finally arrives at her adviser’s office it’s a little later than she had planned. She’s not late, right on time really, but with last night’s panic session and her sleeping right through her alarm this morning, her plan to scramble together one last piece has flown out the window. There are enough pieces to get her point across, all of them lined up neatly in her sketchbook, but since she’s not had the best inspiration lately the empty pages are still enough to send her spiralling. Most of her night was spent on the phone to Eugene, his warm smiles and calm reassurances soaking through the screen and washing over her room. He hadn’t managed to calm her completely, but he got her serene enough to at least eat something before falling asleep. It’s yet another thing she has to thank him for later.

 She adjusts her bag on her shoulder and knocks gently on the door, taking a heavy breath as she waits. Deep down she knows that her adviser won’t criticise her for no reason, she’s honestly a nice person when it comes down to it, but like anyone she does have her moments. Typically, she is thrilled to have you in her office, offering you a cup of hot chocolate when you arrive and she even doesn’t mind when you call her by her real name. It’s clear she cares about the students under her wing and that she is nothing but in love with the subject. But sometimes, when she wants to be stern, all she has to do is look at you the wrong way for you to feel like you’re in trouble.

 It only takes a few seconds before the door is being swung open and she’s being greeted with a bright hello.

 Today, Sasha is wearing a set of denim overalls over a pale-yellow t-shirt, her hair is twisted into a bun on top of her head with two pink pencils poking out the top. Her make up is a collection of colours and from what she can see over her shoulder there are also two full cups sitting on her desk ready to be consumed.

 “Rapunzel. Come on in” Sasha smiles, opening the door further for Rapunzel to squeeze through.

 The office is pretty small compared to the ones of her professors, but she really likes what Sasha has done with the space. There are paintings covering every wall, a blue patterned rug covering the boring floorboards and several random pieces of memorabilia from several countries dotted around on shelves. If anyone were to guess what this person did for a living, they wouldn’t be guessing for too long.

 They each take up a seat on either side of the desk, Sasha deciding to gracefully lift up her legs and cross them over on her chair. Rapunzel snorts as the chair spins a little whilst she gets herself situated. Once she is stable and she’s comfortable in her pretzel position, she stretches her arms over the desk and makes grabbing movements with her hands towards Rapunzel’s sketchbook.

 She hands it over a little reluctantly, holding her breath as she watches Sasha place it down on the desk and start flipping through the pages. Of course, she skips right past the couple of pages of theory at the beginning and lands straight on the first couple of sketches.

 “So, tell me what I’m seeing” she says, fingers tracing the pencil outline of an eye as if she’s trying to come up with a conclusion of her own. That’s what she tends to do in these meetings, she lets you pour your heart out over your work and then slashes your ideas with the ones she thinks are better.

 “They’re eyes” Rapunzel mutters quietly and Sasha shoots her an unamused look. “I mean they’re what eyes can express. The assignment is that you have to capture a feeling, so that’s what I tried to do.”

 “And what feeling exactly are you trying to capture?”

 “I don’t know, whatever it is I’m seeing at the time.”

 She lifts her eyes to meet Rapunzel’s stare, her head titled in question as her finger freezes on the drawing of Eugene she did after their first paint session. He had looked so genuinely happy in that art studio that she knew she had to have it drawn down somewhere that wasn’t destroyed with paint. “And what were you seeing when you drew this?”

 She thinks about it for a moment, thinks back to the art studio and smiles. “Happiness. How someone’s happiness can look from the outside.”

 “And that’s how you see this person’s happiness? Blues and teals?”

 She shrugs, staring at the drawing herself. She wasn’t really thinking about the colours, they made Eugene look pretty so she used them. “Yeah.”

 Sighing gently, Sasha leans back in her chair, her eyes still staring into Rapunzel’s soul. It’s extremely off putting. “Rapunzel” she begins, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “These sketches are good, amazing even, but they don’t meet the assessment brief.”

 She shakes her head in confusion. “I don’t see what you mean?”

 Using her hands as leverage, she pulls herself closer to the desk and lifts all the pages in the book at once, letting them fall back down one by one in a fanning motion. “The emotion is supposed to be yours, something that only you feel as you paint it. It’s supposed to be personal and a fragment of who you are, not someone who models for you.”

 Even though she was expecting the worst, she has to admit it hurts to hear it out loud. She drops her head down to focus on her hands in her lap and not at the look of disappointment in Sasha’s eyes. “I’ve tried to get there, I have” she winces a little at how desperate she sounds. “But nothing seems to work.”

 “Look” she says, Rapunzel’s attention snapping back to her. “You have a month left to present your angle. That’s more than enough time for you to figure it out okay?”

 Rapunzel nods once, her eyes blinking rapidly to bat away the suspicious moisture threatening to spill over.

 “And if don’t have it by then?” she asks and it comes out as more of a squeak. “I fail?”

 “We’re not there yet so don’t you worry about that.”

 She releases the breath she’s been holding, her eyes fixed on her sketches laid out before her.

 “It’s not the end of the world Rapunzel. Just try to think less and you’ll be fine.”

 Right now, she thinks she the furthest from fine that she can be. She’s already tried not thinking with Eugene and the result of that was still torn to shreds. How is she supposed to improve her ideas without thinking when not thinking is all she can think about?

 “How am I supposed to do that?” She asks it out loud, throws her insecurities out there, lays it all on the table. “How am I supposed to not think when that’s what everyone is telling me to do?”

 Sasha relaxes then, calms her face into something more empathetic and a little less adviser mode. She places her elbows back on the desk and leans on them. “Can I tell you a secret?” Rapunzel stays quiet but nods anyway, allowing her to continue. “You are one of the most talented people in this class. But you’re scared, you have a wall up and that is affecting what you produce. Art isn’t always just about the pretty colours and fancy details, it’s about expression. And Rapunzel, sometimes it’s the bad things that we have to express.”

 “So, I have to feel something negative in order to pass?”

 “No-” she laughs “-but you have to be willing to open yourself up to the bad stuff. You can’t be afraid to really see what’s inside of you. If you do that then you’re not giving the good things a chance to surface.”

 Rapunzel doesn’t mean to roll her eyes, really, but she’s still a little tired and her rational brain is taking a break. Sasha doesn’t seem to mind though, even laughs at it, and instead nudges the second cup in her direction. Rapunzel grabs it without hesitation, using her sipping as a distraction from everything else going on in this room. 

 Using the pause to her advantage, Sasha swivels her chair around to grab a book from the shelf behind her, flipping it over to a clean page. “Here” she says grabbing a pen from the side, one with bright pink ink, and scribbling something down. “There’s an art gallery next week from one of my former students, who like you had trouble connecting with her emotions.” She rips the paper out of her book, folds it in half and hands it over to Rapunzel. “Go, take a look around, maybe ask her a few questions. Even the darkest ones.”

 She takes the paper and promptly unfolds it, the familiar address staring back at her. It’s a well-known gallery in the city, one she has visited frequently, one she aspires to one day to be featured in. Of course, Sasha would be sending her there of all places, to torment her probably.

 “It will come Rapunzel, trust me. But until then take some time for yourself, go find your friends and have some fun.” Her eyebrow raises as she smirks softly. “Sometimes you find inspiration in the weirdest of places.”

 She smiles a little at that, a book fort and a boy coming to mind. “Like a library?”

 “I was thinking weirder but that’s a good place to start I guess.”

 She nods and stuffs her sketchbook in her bag, standing up and taking the hot chocolate with her. “Thank you.”

 Sasha smiles, as bright as she did when she first opened the door. “Remember, I’m always here for you.”

 She knows that, it’s quite literally her job, but she doesn’t point out that little fact. Instead she keeps quiet and takes her leave, walking out the office with more defeat than she went in with. It’s just her luck that when she steps into the empty hallway, fully intending to run home and curl up on the couch, her phone decides to start ringing in her pocket. She fishes it out of her jacket and sighs when the name lights up on her screen.

 Do not answer

 Without thinking twice, she swipes the red button across the screen and waits for the phone to fall silent. A few moments pass, no voice mail is left, so she stuffs the phone back in her pocket and makes her way home to where the couch awaits. 

  “Remind me again why I’m being forced to leave the house tonight?”

 Dragging her zip the rest of the way up on her jacket, she laughs at Cass whining from where she’s lying on the couch - her feet kicked up in the air as she aimlessly scrolls on her phone.

 “You’re not being forced” she says putting emphasis on the last word. “You’re coming because you’re my friend and you want to support me.”

 “Support you flirting with library boy?”

 She turns to face her as she begins gathering up her freshly curled hair on top of her head and ties it off with an elastic. “No, you’re supporting me and the fact that after being told my art sucks I need to let of some steam. And the boys have kindly given me an opportunity to do so.”

 Cass moves then, dropping her legs on to the floor and heaving her body up into a sitting position. “Your art doesn’t suck Raps, you’re just-”

 “Over thinking” she interrupts. “Yeah I’ve been told.”

 Tightening the ends of her ponytail, she slumps against the wall and watches as Cassandra stands up to walk towards her. Both of her hands rise to rest on her shoulders and squeeze gently.

 “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

 “Then what were you going to say?”

 “I was going to say” she starts, giving her a gentle shake. “That you are being too harsh on yourself. All you do is work Raps, no wonder you’re a little stuck.”

 She scoffs at that, her eyebrows raising in offence. “I do not work all the time.”

 “Please, I know you and I know how much pressure you put on yourself. Loosen up a little and live life! Who cares if your art sucks.”

 “So, it does suck.”

 Cass slumps in her spot, her face the perfect picture of annoyed. “You’re already dragging me to who the hell knows what, do you really want to give me something else to be mad at? I had plans you know.”

 She does know, those plans were mentioned when she first brought this night up, even though she never actually shared the details on what those plans were. They seem important though with how much she’s been complaining tonight about cancelling them. A pang of guilt unfurls in her chest. 

 “I know” she says, sinking further down the wall. “And I feel guilty that you cancelled them, I’m just-” she trails off in a sigh, her words no longer being useful to her. Another thing to add to the list of things she’s failing at.

 Cassandra nods in understanding, her grip on her shoulders loosening. She shuffles backwards and drops her arms, turning around to grab her jacket from where it was thrown over the back of a dining chair. She slips her arms through the sleeves and zips it all the way up. “So, what exactly do those boys have planned?”

 Truthfully, she just as oblivious as Cass is. Neither Eugene or Lance had given her more details than to meet them outside of their building and to make sure they’re wearing all black- socks included. Despite her concerns, she did her best to meet their instructions digging out some old leggings she had at the bottom of her drawer and adding her classic denim jacket. Black wasn’t really her colour of choice, it’s too dark for her tastes, and so she struggled a lot more than she thought to find something to wear. Cassandra, on the other hand, had no problem and was already dressed head to toe in black when she told her about their plans. She’s followed Rapunzel with the black leggings, but has spiced it up a little with a lacy top and a leather jacket. If you’re going to get in trouble, do it in style she had said when she walked out of her room earlier.  

 Rapunzel turns to face the hallway mirror, pulling the base of her ponytail to tighten it. “I don’t know, but they were very specific about this being a secret.”

 “Drama nerds” Cass whines from behind her, moving forward to meet Rapunzel’s reflection in the mirror.

 Rapunzel smiles sweetly back at her. “Do I look mission ready?”

 Leaning down, Cass plants a loud kiss on her jacket covered shoulder. “Library boy won’t know what hit him.”

 “Shut up.”

 When they eventually make it out of their building, Lance and Eugene are making good on their promise and are already waiting for them outside. They’re both dressed in black, each with two flashlights in hand and smiling up at them as they walk the rest of the distance over the courtyard. She notices that Lance has a backpack over one shoulder and is sporting two dark stripes on each of his cheeks. It’s the first thing she points out when she reaches them. 

 “Planning on going to war?” she asks, wrapping her arms around herself. Apparently, they’ve chosen one of the coldest nights to do - whatever it is they’re doing.

 Lance straightens up, face going serious and extends both his arms out to her. “These are your lifeline. Be careful how you use them.” He says it like a command and completely out of nowhere- not at all the greeting she was expecting.

 “Okay” she drags out, squinting her eyes in confusion. Lance stays silent, pushing the flashlights forward until she gets the massage and takes them both. Cassandra rolls her eyes when she tries to give her hers, turning her body away in complete protest. It may be dark, but the disapproval of her friend is as clear as day and she wonders what kind of plan for Lance she is currently conjuring up in her head. Nothing good she assumes. She keeps hold of the torch, hanging it loosely by her side in case Cass changes her mind.

 “Once it starts, we won’t have much time, so we all have to play our part” Lance says, reaching to open his backpack and pull out a rolled-up piece of paper. He unrolls it in front of them, stretching it out to reveal a poorly drawn map of campus. There are small dots and lines of varying colours scatted all over the diagram and she thinks she can see their names labelling some of them.    

 Holding in her laugh, she looks up at Eugene for any help in understanding what’s going on. “Once what starts exactly?”

 He’s standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, watching his friend with an unimpressed expression. “We’re going to break into the theatre.”

 “We’re going to what?”

 “Shh!” Lance interrupts. “We can’t get caught before we’ve even started.”

 Cassandra breaks out into laughter, fake laughter, the kind of laughter you know is just to taunt. She throws her hand over her chest and leans forward in exaggeration. “Are you serious? You’re telling me you made us come out in the middle of the night to break into a school theatre?”

 “Oh, he’s serious” Eugene clicks on his flashlight, moving it until it’s beam focuses on Rapunzel. “It’s not too late to back out, Princess.” He says the last part with a smirk, his eyes shining in the dark, fully making fun of his best friend. She knows this is payback for how she teamed up with Lance in the Cafe.

 She shakes her head. “I’m all in if you are.”

 He shrugs happily. “I guess I’m all in then.”

 “Seriously?” Cassandra whines “you made me cancel my plans to help two idiots break into a campus building that has absolutely no value or worth?”

 “The building has no worth, no.” Eugene says, moving closer to Cassandra, and he really is brave for doing so. One eyebrow raises as he purses his lips in thought. “But the reward, maybe.”

 “A reward?”

 “Hmm, but it’s only for those who participate.”

 Cassandra stares at him and Rapunzel can tell she’s considering it. If there’s one thing Cass loves, it’s free stuff and she would do just about anything to get it-including breaking and entering. Rapunzel smiles as she watches her go through the waves of emotion, from hating every second of this to being angry that she might just want to participate. Eugene’s smiling too, a slow satisfied smirk, knowing that he’s won, and Rapunzel might just burst. Confidence is a good look on him.

 “Fine.” Cass spits out eventually, snatching the torch off Rapunzel and shinning the light directly into Lance’s face. He’s not phased at all, eyes too busy scanning his makeshift map. “You better have a good plan.”

 Apparently, he does have a plan, calling it a good one though might be a bit of a stretch. According to Eugene, the aim of this night is to be the first team to successfully break into the theatre, take a picture standing centre stage and post it online without getting caught. It seems it’s harder than expected tough as no one has quite managed to complete it all the way through in at least a few years. Lance, however, seems determined that this year is the year of victory vowing that he will not graduate until he’s beaten it.  

 He went on to explain that this year with the addition of the two new members, it gives them an advantage, giving them more chances to reach the finish line. All members of the team must be caught for a group disqualification and this way, with them all spit up, it's hard to get caught. The first part of Lance's plan is seemingly easy, they need to cross campus without being seen. At this time of night, the area is pretty much abandoned anyway, just a few stragglers going from party to party or a night owl studying. No one is really paying attention to four students running across campus in ridiculous black outfits and carrying flashlights.

 They do have fun with it though, just because they can, jumping over benches and rolling over the grass mission impossible style. She’s hiding pressed up behind a wall, pausing to snap a quick picture, when she feels Eugene collapse next to her, his shoulder pushed up against hers. His breath is a little laboured and it makes her laugh, out of all them he seems to be the one going overboard. He almost broke his ankle scaling a fence instead of just using the already unlocked gate.

 He turns to face her, wiggling his eyebrows. “Having fun?”

 “Honestly?” she smiles, shaking her head. “I am.”

 “Good.” Even in the dark that smile is doing weird things to her heart. “Because once things start to get serious, I can’t have you thinking I’m weird or something.”

 “This isn’t serious?”

 “Not even close. Lance hasn’t even broken out the codes names yet.”

 She snorts. “Let me guess, yours is something nerdy and poetic.”

 He shrugs shyly and the movement against her own arms send shivers down her spine. “He changes them each time we do this, so it will be as much of a surprise to me.”

 She looks up at him, eyes filled with mischief. “Does he have a name for me?”

 “He adores you, so I don’t think you have to worry.”

 “And what would you call me?”

 He pushes up from the wall and stands in front of her, eyes scanning her up and down. It makes her close in on herself a little, not used to being stared at like this, but it’s not entirely uncomfortable. She doesn’t know if that’s because it’s almost completely dark where they’re standing or because it’s Eugene that’s looking.

 His eyes meet hers again, one corner of his mouth curving in a smirk. “Blondie.”

 She rolls her eyes as she scoffs. “How original.”

 He’s about to say something in retaliation when her phone starts ringing, a little too loud for the silence of the night. She pulls it from her pocket and quickly puts it on silent before Lance yells at her for ruining the mission. She reads the message on the screen and giggles.

 “It’s Cass” she says, looking back at Eugene who still staring at her. “She needs rescuing from Lance.”

 “Well we better get going” he says, moving his flashlight over to the path next to them. He stands there for a moment, smiling softly, before extending his arm out to her, his hand being offered to take. “Shall we?”

 She stares at him, mouth slightly open, and places her hand in his. “Let’s go.”

 His hand tightens around hers, gripping gently, before he’s pulling her from the wall and breaking out into a run. They both try to keep their laughs quiet as they run through campus, ducking every now and again behind buildings and cars when they see another team in the distance. It’s what makes this fun, the sense of competition. Eugene pulls her along, his steps bigger than hers, until they can see Cassandra sat on the floor against a tree tapping away on her phone. Lance is stood next to her, frowning down, and it looks like he’s giving her some type of lecture.

 “Do you have any respect for the arts?” Lance is whispering when they approach.

 “Not at all.” Cass says bored.

 “What is it you are actually study again? You don’t seem the intelligent type.”

 “I’m not the what?” She snaps, locking her phone and jumping up, stare meeting his. She starts to take a step forward when Rapunzel leaps on her, arms locking around her waist to keep her in place. Cassandra snaps her teeth and Lance screeches appropriately. “You want to say that again drama boy?”

 He stays quiet which is probably the best for everyone.

 Taking the lead, Eugene steps forward and points his light over to the wall next to them, revealing the stage door sign hanging above. It’s still dark which means they’re the first ones here – one of the requirements of the mission being to turn it on- and she can see it sends a wave of relief washing over Lance. According to their run down earlier, this is only how far he’s manged to get before being tapped out by security. Hopefully, it’s enough for now to keep him and Cass from killing each other.

 Nodding her head towards the door, she turns her focus to Lance. “Now what mastermind?”

 Cass mutters something at that but everyone ignores it, Lance straightening himself up back into leader mode. “Now, it’s your turn. Have you got the pin?”

 Humming, she digs around in her pocket and produces two bobby pins as he requested earlier. She doesn’t have time to ask what he needs them for before Eugene is swiping them up and begins making his way over to the door. They all follow suit, Cassandra falling behind, sneaking across the grass until they all huddle under the small brick archway. Slowly, Eugene gets on his knees in front of the door signalling to Lance to shine his light over the lock, Rapunzel being told to stand guard. Below her, Eugene seamlessly inserts the pin in the lock and begins moving it back and forth searching for the inner mechanism.

 “You’ve done this before?” she asks, a little impressed and a bit concerned.  

 He glances at her quickly, his eyes a little cold and cut off, before going back to the task at hand. “A few times, when I was a kid.” He goes quiet and continues to work, the only sound the clicking of metal as Eugene works the pin and the lock pops opens. Lance lets out a small squeal before quieting himself with a hand over his mouth. He gives his friend a high five in thanks and moves to pull the door open. He freezes in the threshold and turns to the group, a wide smile on his face.

 “Ready?”

 “Ready” Rapunzel whispers back the same time as Cassandra moans a “Hell no.”

 After flicking on the stage door sign, Lance leads the way through the theatre choosing to skip the traditional hallways and take them through the back-utility area. It’s a tight squeeze, only enough for them to stay in single file, different coloured wires and ropes hanging from the ceiling and draped on the floor. Her foot gets caught a few times sending her falling into Cassandra behind her, earning her a small “idiot” from her friend. They duck under beams and step over boxes and climb a ladder at the end of the hallway, Lance wincing at how loud it rattles.

 He pauses at the top, keeping a lookout as the rest of them climb their way up and over into what appears to be the control room. There are computers and control tables filling the room, a window ahead of them overlooking the stage. Thankfully, it’s blissfully empty. From his position upfront, Lance turns around and smiles wide, the face of success.

 “Ready for the fun part?” He whispers, shutting off his torch and nodding at them to do the same. The room is bathed in complete darkness except from the blinking green light coming from the security camera up above.

 “There’s a fun part to this?” Cassandra says, taking off her jacket and wrapping it around her waist.

 “Yes, because now we run.”

 “Run to where?” Rapunzel asks, keeping her voice hushed.

 Eugene turns to face her, smirk forming, before suddenly taking off and running out of the room. She watches on in confusion, it only clicking when she can see something moving beyond the window, running down the stairs in between the seats towards the stage. A small yelp echoes through the theatre as he makes it to the stage, turning his light back on, illuminating him as he twirls and jumps in a circle.

 Lance grabs her by the arm and begins pulling her out the room, Rapunzel following suit and dragging Cass behind her. The three of them pause at the top of the stairs, sharing glances with each other, before they take off flying down the theatre. She can’t see very clearly, her hair flying with the wind she’s making, but she doesn’t care, she’s never had this much fun before. Lance is ahead of her taking two steps at a time and cheering the closer he gets; she can even hear Cass let out something close to a laugh behind her. She can't help but throw in a cheer of her own. When they reach the bottom, they jump up onto the stage, Rapunzel and Lance shedding their jackets as they lean over out of breath.

 Eugene strolls over to them, light held under his chin, laughing. “You guys need to exercise more.”

 Lance shoots him a grimace. “Not all of us can be parkour experts, Eugene.”

 Cassandra perks up a little at that, sending him an impressed smile. “Parkour? Nice.”

 He preens under her compliment, a slight blush forming on his cheeks.

 “Alright” Lance begins, standing up and gaining his breath back. “We need the photo otherwise this whole thing would be for nothing.”

 “Well we wouldn’t want that.” Cassandra says and she can see Lance wince a little in fear at the grin on Cassandra’s face.  

 Avoiding her at all costs, Lance shuffles them into a circle and pulls out his phone, ushering them closer to snap a picture for their proof. They all turn their lights back on, setting the stage alight, giving him the best light for the photo, the camera pointing down to their shoes all on the centre stage mark. They’re all a bit out of breath and still aware that the task is not yet done – they now must escape security free- but it’s nice just standing there taking it all in.

 It’s not the mission that really matters to Rapunzel, but the people around her. For so long it’s been just her and Cass and that’s been more than she could ask for, she wouldn’t trade her for anything, but somehow adding Lance and Eugene to the duo feels like the best thing to do. These past two weeks of hanging out with Eugene have been some of the best she’s had since she started college and now with Lance in the mix- it feels as though they just blend together seamlessly. Two halves becoming a whole.

 “So, are we just going to stand here or?” Cass speaks up, breaking the silence and her sentimental thought she has going on. Cass would disagree with her about this four-piece thing.

 Lance takes a step back, flinging his arms out to the side, and throwing her a wink. He turns to his phone and begins swiping until the opening beats of a song start to play faintly. “Now my scary friend, we celebrate.”

 “Please don’t tell me you’re going to dance.” Cass mumbles, planting her head in the palm of her hand.

 It’s too late. Lance bends to drop his phone on the floor and begins stepping side to side, swinging his hips as he goes. It’s a little off beat and the moves don’t match the heavy bass of the song, but he’s waving his arms and adding a bounce to his steps and it’s glorious. He throws his head back as he spins, miming along to the lyrics trying to keep as quiet as possible. When he stops, he stares at Eugene, an eyebrow raised, and starts shimmying over to his giggly friend. Eugene almost looks like he’s doubled over in laughter, a fond smile on his face as he moves closer to join in. Lance throws his arms around Eugene’s neck and leads Eugene in a waltz around the stage.

 She can see from the corner of her eye Cass has stopped moaning enough to pull out her phone and start filming the pairs attempt at a dance routine. There also may be a hint of a smile on her lips. Rapunzel chooses to watch them fondly, laughing every time Lance gets spun under Eugene’s arm or when Lance picks up Eugene and spins him in a circle. They nearly trip over each other when they both begin running around, leaping and spinning and Eugene even throws in a perfectly executed back flip.

 “I have to admit” Cassandra says next to her, phone still focused on the boys. “The boy’s got moves.”

 “Yeah?” she throws her a smile.

 “Yeah. I like him.” Her head nods towards Lance, who’s now doing some version of the Macarena. “That one though, he’s on my bad list.”

 Rapunzel snorts, turning away just in time to see Eugene approach her, flashlight now on the floor and his arm already outstretched. “Can I have this dance?” he asks, voice deep and proper and he even bows down to amp up to whole prince vibe.

 She places her hand across her chest in awe and gives him a small curtsy in return. “You can.”

 Eugene beams when she puts her hand in his and he starts pulling her further down the stage, spinning her in a circle under his arm. Giving her a tug, he pulls her easily towards him, close enough that they’re chest to chest, and drags her arm up and over until it’s draped around his shoulder. He laces their already joint hands together all the whilst his eyes keep focus on hers. If she thought having him stare at her in the studio was intense, then she has no idea what to call this. Warmth is spreading from her fingertips right down to her toes as he keeps staring, his thumb brushing back and forth gently on her skin. He pulls his teeth between his lips shyly and she is hit with an urge to draw it.

 “Do you know how to waltz? He asks softly, moving his free hand until it’s resting on her waist. She silently curses her past self for taking off her jacket, his touch burning through the thin material of her shirt. She’s positive she’s moments away from melting.

 “Not really.”

 He smiles and she thinks this is the best way to see it, from this close up. “Just follow my lead.”

 She only has time to nod before he starts moving them around the stage, stepping back and forth and taking them around in a large circle. It’s not a traditional waltz, far from it, and it’s turning into the two of them skipping from left to right instead. She can hear Lance laughing at them as they swing by and even Cass is shouting her praises when Eugene dips her down low. He lifts her back up straight and pulls her tight against his chest, nose brushing hers ever so slightly. She can feel every sharp breath he lets out, both from the breath fanning across her face and his chest rising and falling against hers.

 “Not bad for your first time.” He whispers it against her and she has to do everything she can to stop from falling over or from saying something stupid.

 Apparently, she doesn’t have to because suddenly the main theatre lights are being turned on, the four of them turning towards the entrance, Lance scrambling to turn off the music. There’s a security guard stood at the top the stalls, flashlight in one hand and her keys in the other, frowning down at them on the stage.

 “What are you doing in here?” She calls, sounding annoyed.

 They all stare at her for a few moments more, a quick glance between themselves, before they all take off running. They abandon their torches and their jackets and jump off the stage, choosing to take the stairs opposite the guard and run towards the entrance at the top. They make it quite easily - security probably not having enough strength to deal with students at this time of night - and are out of the theatre before they know it. They don’t stop running though, they continue full speed as they cross campus, passing the other teams who clap them when they pass. They’re all laughing now, even Cassandra, howling out into the night as they escape, young and free.

 With all the rush she hadn’t noticed it at first, had just ran with it, but as they cross the road to her building she looks down and sees it, her heart fluttering at the sight.

 Eugene is still holding her hand.

[missameliep]

Here I come with a prompt for you: Imagine that Elizabeth goes out for a day because of business and Hamid is left alone with his daughter and she needs to have her hair braided for today. How would he manage the situation? Have fun writing! 😊

Hi, Noe! Thanks for the ask. It was really inspiring and I had a lot of fun. I’ve never wrote this kind of scene before, so I hope you enjoy!

And since I received this ask twice, I’ve decided to write one for each of the Hamids I write, one for the Prince of The Pursuit of Happiness, and another for the diplomat of Second Chances (in this case, it’s a glimpse of a distant future).

Book: Desire and Decorum - Modern AU Words: ~1.000

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

In the darkened room, Elizabeth leaned and kissed the man lying down, who stirred and opened one eye.

“Don't sleep in, sleepyhead,” she kissed him again. “Prepare Sophia for school. Today is Adriana's day off, so Briar will pick her up.”

“Okay,” he said, rubbing the sleep off his eyes.

“If everything goes as planned, I’ll be home in time for breakfast tomorrow.”

The man encircled her waist and pulled her down to the bed, kissing her passionately, his fingers digging into her hair.

“No! Don’t mess with the hair!” she squealed and squirmed out of his grasp. “I’ll be out of the plane and into the conference room.”

“You look stunning, it’ll be too distracting for them. Let me correct this…”

She playfully smacked his hand, drawing laughter from him, and sat beside him at the bed. Propping his body over his elbow, he said softly against her barely noticeable round belly, “I count on you to remind your mum to not extenuate herself.”

“I won't,” she assured, stroking his hair.

“You better not,” he smiled looking up at her, “Don’t forget to eat. Sinclaire will tell me if you don’t.”

A last kiss and she was gone, and the man drifted back to sleep.

Ten minutes before the alarm goes off, he’s awakened by the click of the door and the sound of small feet tiptoeing their way into the darkened room. In silence, the four-year-old crawls her way into the bed and on her knees inspects her surroundings before lying beside him.

“Baba,” the girl susurrates, “Where is mamãe?”

He rubs his eyes and checks his mobile, “I suppose she’s on the plane now...”

“Aw! Why she didn’t kiss me goodbye?”

“She did. Last night. After we put you in bed and read to you.”

It takes a minute before the small voice breaks the silence again. “I wanted another kiss.”

“I can kiss you,” the man says, and she giggles with each peck pressed against her cheeks, forehead and tummy.

When the laughter subsided and the fake sound of a growling stomach reverberated, Hamid raised from the bed, taking the little girl on his arms. They had breakfast together, and her tongue was not fast enough to enunciate the many stories she wanted to tell in between bites on an apple and on a loaf of bread. Amused, Hamid paid close attention, drinking his black coffee, and asking questions about the fantastic trip she’s planning with her imaginary friend.

“After you brush your teeth, sweetie, you can watch one cartoon while I shave,” he said softly, and the toothbrush resumed working on his white teeth.

“Baba, you have to braid my hair,” she said staring at him, small lips framed by white foam.

“I do?”  

She nodded. “Like Rapunzel’s.”

His hand gently wiped the white from her bronze face. “There’s nothing about it on your mother’s list, and I don’t know if we have enough time...”  

She pouted and put the toothbrush down. “Mamãe promised I could be Rapunzel today…”

“Sorry, evladım… I don’t know how to do this,” he said, stroking her hair, and studying the disappointed look on her face. A disappointment he caused.

Inhaling deeply, he pondered if it would it be the end of the world not shaving for work once. The answer curled the corners of his mouth.

“Alright,” he said, “Let’s braid your hair.”

An ear-to-ear smile parted her lips and bouncing she followed him out of the bathroom.

Picking the mobile, he tapped a few times on the screen and found a tutorial on YouTube. Oddly enough it looked exactly like the drawing on the book they read every night this week. Turning the device, he asked, “Is this how you want your hair?”

The confirmation was an enthusiastic yes that would earn a reproving stare from her great-grandmother.

He scratched the back of his neck, and they returned to the little girl’s room. From a drawer he picked a brush and a few hair ties.

Sitting with her on the bed, like he’s done numerous mornings, he started combing the long hair, dark brown as his own, not a strand of gold or auburn, just deep brown almost black under these lights. A crown of voluminous hair almost as long as her mother’s was when they met all those years ago. However, Sophia’s hair falls in lovely waves, undulating as the waters of a serene sea.

His hand moves with care. Like it always does. Like it did when he used to disentangle it when the thin strands were shorter than his little fingers and her hands couldn’t reach the doorknobs. Or when it’s tied ponytails to avoid the dark locks to cover her eyes when her steps grew confident and the hair longer.

However, a braid will be a first time.

Probably the first one in his life.

Certainly, he never braided Elizabeth’s hair. He prefers her curls untamed, and his hands are more comfortable unpinning and undoing hairdos after each of the formal events they attend, and not the other way round.

Maybe for one of his sisters?

For a moment he remembers growing up with five noisy girls and watching them do all sorts of things to their hairs. On occasions, he’s helped them combing their long locks or holding a ponytail before apt hands added a hairclip; he’s mocked them too over disastrous haircuts; and he’ll never forget how anne was furious when Faiza secretly dyed her hair pink and, hidden behind a door, he admired her courage to stand up against their mother.

But he cannot remember doing a braid. Ever. Though he certainly watched them braiding their own hairs.

“It has to be exactly like Rapunzel's!” Sophia says matter-of-factly over her shoulder and brings him back from the reverie.

“People will mistake you with Rapunzel herself,” he replied with a smile, and his dextrous fingers resumed sectioning the hair. First, he weaved small braids. Next, strands were crossed and twisted. From time to time, his brows knitted together, and he glanced at the mobile. Finally, the long hair was weaved all the way down and he looked proudly at it.

“Should we add some flowers?”

“Yes!” The little girl jumped up and down and clapped her small hands.

From a tall floral arrangement at the dining table he plucked a few white flowers, and carefully placed on her hair, even though he knows the fall wind will blow them away before they cross the three blocks to the preschool building.

The wide smile on her lips as she contemplates herself on the mirror are worth it. Are worth it all.

Turning and turning to try and see her father’s masterpiece, the girl sings one of the songs from the movie, before her attention shifts back to him.

“Baba! I love my hair!” she said hugging him. “Thank you!”

“I’m happy you liked it.”

“Mamãe never did one so good.”

“I’m certain she can braid your hair even better than I did.”

“She never put flowers.” Sophia said studying her reflection on the mirror. “Can we send a picture to her? She needs to learn the right way.”

“Sure, we can.”

Hamid pursed his lips, enjoying for a moment the boost on his ego, and snapped a few photos. Alongside with the pictures, a small text saying how much Elizabeth is loved and missed, and an audio from Sophia saying her father can braid her hair better.

[frxstguardian]

All fandom asks

Idk if this was a joke or if you want me to die but I’m gonna do it!

A - Your current OTP Jackparse from Check Please! Jack canonically never wants to talk to Parse ever again and their last conversation 2 years ago was an argument. I love pain.

B - A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind Zukka. Idk why their parallels weren’t obvious to me until pointed out.

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will Makorra. How am I supposed to like the blandest most heterosexual ship?

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t Solangelo. I like it just fine conceptually, but I grew up thinking about Percico, Jasico, and Valdangelo, and Will Solace is a new guy who I have zero emotional connection to. Good for all the kids growing up with him though.

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what Enlightened Jar Jar Binks is my legacy

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom Doctor Who was the first fandom I read fanfiction for back in 2008.

G - Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it I really liked Zukaang during middle school.

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff Probably TV shows since I watch lots of cartoons.

I - Has tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why Yes, I refuse to associate with the Check Please! fandom because everyone either hates my favorite character or likes my favorite character for the wrong reasons. There’s just too much discourse.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t care about until you saw it all over tumblr The answer is Check Please! again haha.

K - Say something nice about someone in any of your fandoms Soniatera makes really nice ROTG gifs!!!

L - Say something nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves Kylo Ren’s line “Let the past die. Kill it if you have to.” is really good. It’s better dialogue than he deserves smh.

M - Say something genuinely nice about a ship that you don’t ship I like Rapunzel and Eugene a lot individually, but I don’t ship them. But it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Tangled (2010), maybe I just need to rewatch.

O - Pick a song at random, which ship or character does it remind you of Every song reminds me of Jackparse. Don’t underestimate my power. I can relate any lyric back to their relationship through sheer willpower.

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom ROTG AU where the guardians are like the X-Men and Jack is a young mutant who they rescue! Except Pitch is a dangerous mutant who wants to start a war with humans...

Q - A ship you’ve abandoned and why Merthur. I still like them, but the dynamic is unhealthy. Merlin needs to stop sacrificing himself and others for Arthur. It’s a selfish form of selflessness.

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships I know other people ship it, but Ventrobi doesn’t get enough love. It’s so much fun. So much potential for wacky hijinks.

U - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms Jack Frost Aang Nico di Angelo Eric Bittle Kent Parson

V - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms Cassunzel (Tangled) Enjoltaire (Les Miserables) Jackparse (Check Please)

W - 5 favorite ships and 5 kinks you like best for said ships My kinks are requited love, communication, and catharsis. Unrealistic!

[rueitae]

2018 Fic Roundup

I did this last year and it was nice to do some self reflection and make some goals for 2019. I encourage all my writer friends to do this! No tagging necessary, just tell each other to do it. <3

It’s long, so putting the rest of the fic and reflection questions under the cut.

Stats:

Fics Posted (Gen): 6

Space Birthday (9,595 words): Hunk can feel it in his bones; it’s his birthday. He wants to have a nice one... and does... after accidentally raiding a Galra outpost with Lance and Pidge.

Pilot (4,340): Shiro finds himself in a different reality post s2. Here, the mechs are called Gundams. (Shiro in the Gundam Wing universe/reality)

Code (7,321): Pidge and the others keep fond memories of Earth through oldies musical trivia. It comes in handy on a mission.

Self Insert (6,357): Lance reads a story to his niece and nephew on the eve he leaves for school at the Galaxy Garrison. The kids have Opinions on how it should go.(i totally still need to change their names to the canon ones)

Too Soon and Not Soon Enough (1,796): Keith is 13 and is supposed to go to the Galaxy Garrison next year at Shiro’s encouragement. Until the Galra invade and plans change.

Welcome to the Neighborhood (2,237): Allura gets used to being not dead and that includes meeting her cosmic neighbors.

Fics Posted (Plance): 17

Wrong Diamond (2,384): Gentlemen thief AU. “At midnight, I will steal the heart of Voltron,” the note says. Pidge has a thief to catch.

Diamond in the Rough (8,045): prequel to Wrong Diamond. How they meet!

Road Trip (4,710): Lance and Pidge are back on Earth. Zarkon has the others and the two are on the run from a bureaucratic Galaxy Garrison that doesn’t want the world to know about aliens yet. Oh, and Lotor is with them.

Exsanguination (16,255): Pidge is a vampire hunter captured by Haggar. She finds some unlikely help in the vampire’s similarly undead servant.

Power Up! (3,500): Pidge is on the cusp of finding out where Zarkon is holding her father using less than legal methods. She’s caught in the act by her lab partner (Lance, a superhero in training).

Plance on Ice (2,300): A figure skating AU! Pidge and Lance are former competitive partners having a date free time on the ice

Being Plance (3,900): Pidge and Lance pull a personality switch prank over on the rest of the team. Canon verse.

Keeping Cool (3,098): Mermaid AU! Pidge is in trouble with pirates and gets some unexpected help from the sea.

The Cake (839): Canon verse, Lance gets a cake for his birthday and assumes it’s from Hunk.

Frostbite (6,109): Pidge is a renowned super villain. Lance is a hero in training with something to prove. Lance over uses his powers one day and Pidge has some soul searching to do.

Crystal Clear (5,516): Another superhero AU. Lance is captured by his arch nemesis. They have a heart-to-heart, taunt, and flirt.

The Secrets of Beasts (2,007): AU canon verse. Years down the road, Green keeps Pidge from going on a mission with the others. It takes Kosmo to find out why.

See You Yesterday (8,132): Lance works nervously as a bartender for a 1920s mafia when all he wanted to do was leave the farming life. One night he gets a strange patron who changes his life - and his perspective of the world. Time travel AU

Shot Through the Heart (1,087): post canon AU. Lance and Pidge keep Nadia and Sylvio entertained.

Seasons of Magic (11,744): Pidge is a mage. Lance is her dragon familiar. Series of domestic-ish one shots. Not in sequential order.

Between Rocks and A Hard Place (8,144): Canon verse. Pidge and Lance are trapped due to a caved-in mine, with pirates waiting for them on the other side. And Pidge is hurt.

Cow-parent Trapped (1,099): s8 canon continuation. Pidge visits Lance at the farm and does not expect Kaltenecker to make them talk to each other.

Lotura 1

Birthday Prompt #5 (5,500): Oh gosh I never named it. Fantasy AU in which Lotor is essentially Rapunzel and Allura is Aurora with a better (depending on who you ask) birth-prophesy. Tiny hint of Shallura in this as well.

Collaborations: 3

First Encounters for the (Altean Plance AU): Pidge is an independent noblewoman and Lance is her bodyguard. Writing done with @hushman and @pidge-suggestions

To Sail, To Break, To Earn (Plance - 10,268): Lance is a pirate and Pidge is a mermaid. There’s also a curse involved. With @sp4c3-0ddity

It’s Beginning to Look a lot Like A Christmas Carol (Plance- 14,384): post s8 canon verse with @hailqiqi and @sp4c3-0ddity. Exactly as the title says. Lance is the subject of a ghostly intervention. Crack treated seriously.

Fey AU (Plance): with @vivalachocolate this was @sp4c3-0ddity ‘s prompt to Viva but I was nosy and added a chapter and I’m so glad she wasn’t mad at me for it. 😅

Ship/Character breakdown:

Ship breakdown:

I guess the 17 Plance fics speak for themselves. I did write one Lotura fic as a special birthday prompt because @ritsykitty is such a good friend.

Character breakdown:

I have a gen fic for each Paladin, but then the Plance fics outnumber those, so Lance and Pidge would be my go to.

Characters that had the main focus:

So for character POV, each Paladin has one, then within Plance, Pidge has 12 and Lance has 7. Interesting, I thought it was more even. Hunk had a POV in a Plance fic too briefly!

Specifics:

Best/worst title?

Best title: Urgh I liked a lot of them. Too Soon and Not Soon Enough probably. I like how it summarizes the story without telling you how, but by the end you know.

Worst title: Seasons of Magic aka I tried to come up with a clever title when I realized I wasn’t done with it. It’s so bland to me. I’m also basically trying to rebrand from mage/familiar AU. I don’t think it’s working 😅 (not that I care I’m trying to make it easier to reference but I’m too late)

Best/worst last line?

Best: “I love you too, Pidge,” he [Lance] says, nestling her head to his chest and not bothering to correct her. “You’re the best nemesis a hero could ask for.” - I love that line so much, from Crystal Clear. Enemies to lovers is such a good trope.

Worst: Pidge groans. At this rate her double life is definitely doomed to unravel. - for how much I love Frostbite, I really hate how lame it ends. Like I totally could have said that better or continued the scene a bit but I am LAZY.

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

I wrote waaaaaaay more than expected. I figured I’d write something every few months. Now I can write a 2k fic in a setting if I’m on game.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I was just doing gen fic last year, never would I have expected to be so taken by Plance that it became my main muse.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Honestly? Probably Pilot. It was one of my earliest VLD fic ideas to do a Gundam Wing crossover and to actually finish a one shot early in the year (when I was still dipping my feet into fandom again) just made me so so happy. I still smile thinking about the continuation possibilities. One of my favorite parts of Shiro’s character is that he is the ace pilot. Because of Keith’s role that sometimes gets overshadowed. I was so pleased to get to highlight that.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

On Ao3, that would be Exsanguination. No surprise there, it was my first posted Plance fic and I continued it.

On Tumblr it’s First Encounters, the first of the Altean Plance AU based on the art and headcanons. I was just struck with a clear opening image one afternoon and wrote it all right then and there. I had no idea it would be so well received.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

Space Birthday. It may have been a bit of a mess since it was my very first VLD fic, but it has everything I love. Hunk bonding with an ‘enemy’ over cooking, Team Punk, Plance in distress, Hunk saves the day thanks to mechanics. Also heartfelt stuff with Keith. And he’s the only Paladin besides Lance to get an actual birthday themed fic from me.

Story that could have been better?

I really hate to say Wrong Diamond, but I totally could have done much better with it. It feels skimpy. Probably why I am still writing in the AU.

Sexiest story?

Ha. That would be a tie between Crystal Clear and Exsanguination. The first I actually tried and the second completely by accident. I’m not sure it worked though.

Saddest story?

All my sad fics have a bit of crack to them. Pilot is pretty melancholy. Crystal Clear has a good Plance argument that gets heated. Road Trip in general though might take the cake. It’s full of angst amid some humor due to the premise.

Most fun?

Shot Through the Heart in terms of tone.

Story with single sweetest moment? Space Birthday

"Uh, Keith, hold up a tic."

Confused, Keith turned back around. "What?"

Hunk rubbed the back of his neck. "So uh, you know we're friends right? Like, I meant what I said we're like brothers. We're tight. I mean, we share a mind inside of a giant robot."

Keith blinked, clearly surprised. "Yeah, I kinda got that from the hug you gave me back then. It was nice," he said with a smile. "And we work well together."

"Yeah so - wait what? No, I'm supposed to be giving you the pep talk here."

"It's fine, Hunk. I'm doing important work and so are you. I already had this talk with Allura."

"Oh. Well, what I'm trying to say is that we're friends. I care a lot about you and your feelings. So if I say something that's weird or you don't like, you gotta tell me. I'm a terrible and nosy person and I'm sorry."

Keith stood silent, processing the words, and then smiling. "I've accepted the side of me that's Galra," he said simply. "It's still a little weird, but I've always had this feeling that something didn't add up." He smiled a bit. "I don't mind a question or two, but I'm still learning myself."

"Deal, no Galra questions for a while then. Just as long as you come visit more often, okay? We all miss you.

"...hug it out?"

Keith snorted and obliged into Hunk's waiting arms. "Always."

Hardest story to write?

I struggled with the ending to Exsanguination. It took forever to come to me.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

I wrote The Secrets of Beasts in one setting and I still can’t believe how easily it came out. I blame the Plance discord folks for putting everyone on a baby craze.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

Not particularly? I write based on my existing understanding of the characters and nothing really surprised to that note.

Most overdue story?

Welcome to the Neighborhood. I wanted to write that Allura gen fic all year (as I wanted one for all the Paladins) and I hoped s8 would give me the motivation. It was not worth the cost.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Collaborations! And participating in a zine! And signing up for events (exchanges and bangs)! I learned that it’s not that scary. People are chill and so easy to get along with. Also the task isn’t as daunting as I think of it’s an idea I love.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

This is hard because I’m already doing above and beyond what I ever expected to be doing writing wise. I suppose it will be to finish my gen fic since I’ve been writing a lot of plance lately.

[hope-for-olicity]

Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - September 7th, 2018

Happy Friday! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them.

And So The Adventure Begins multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics - Felicity spent her first year of college focused solely on her studies. In year two, with the convincing of her best friends Iris and Sara, she lets her hair down a bit. Oliver spent his first year partying with his wingman Tommy and living up to the status that came with his last name. He realizes he should buckle down focus on the most important part: actual school. Oliver and Felicity meet, and even though they are on different ends of the spectrum, they don't realize that they can each bring out hidden parts of one another. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15800025/chapters/36771018

Pieces of Always multi-chapter WIP by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34 - Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows. Ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8220479/chapters/18840356

10 Rules of Rebounding multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - Oliver and Felicity start a sex relationship as rebounds for each other. What’s supposed to be just fun, soon gets complicated when it turns out that their work lives collide, Robert Queen fears their sexual relationship could threaten his company and an ex comes back into the play. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15403404/chapters/35749620

Let's Make a Plan by who_seeks_shall_find - Felicity had a stalker when Oliver was in prison. The crazy person sent awful messages and made weird phone calls. After another letter Felicity and John were talking about how to caught the person. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15817560

Deep Water multi-chapter WIP by @it-was-a-red-heeler - A Season 7 Speculation fic. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15081917/chapters/34968092

Lonely With You multi-chapter WIP by @smoaking-greenarrow - Felicity meets Oliver at a frat party in college and interrupts him from making a big mistake. Oliver is intrigued by the dark haired, beautiful genius with a tough exterior. Felicity is charmed by the broody jock that everyone seems to be a little bit afraid of. Feelings, angst, fluff, and all that goooooood stuff. College AU because it's the week to celebrate this trope on tumblr with our Trope-tastic Awards ;) https://archiveofourown.org/works/15706710/chapters/36505428

P.S. Hong Kong: Was it Real?!? multi-chapter WIP by @cruzrogue for Olicity trope-tastic award: Fake Marriage - This is off season 3 Flashbacks. When Tommy goes to Hong Kong he doesn’t go alone he takes his friend Felicity as the best information system being to help him locate Oliver Queen. Tommy may leave empty handed but Felicity gets to be a bride… https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025697/chapters/34832747

Soulmates multi-chapter WIP by @bri206 - What happens when Oliver and Felicity wake up in the past with no idea how they got there? They will have to relive their past lives and maybe find an ally or two to get back to their present. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15466416/chapters/35903511

Plan B by who_seeks_shall_find - Felicity's stalker is caught although Oliver doesn't like the way everything plays out. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15828210

Home To You multi-chapter WIP by @the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl - Oliver Queen has never done what his family expected of him. He took a gap year after high school instead of going to college right away. He quit his fraternity sophomore year to join the student newspaper, switching his major from business to journalism. He became a photojournalist for a wire service instead of taking a place at Queen Consolidated. He went missing after six months instead of coming home for his sister’s twenty-first birthday. He survived five years of captivity in a war zone when everyone thought he was dead. He came home. But home didn’t have a place for him in it anymore. His parents were both dead, casualties of their own mistakes and a city they had turned against them. His sister was all grown up, the CEO of Queen Consolidated with a fiancé and a dog and a life of her own. Oliver didn’t belong in his old life, but there was nowhere else for him to go. He was a man without a home, without any way of finding one, until he stopped by the IT department of his sister’s company to get files off an old, battered memory card, and found a woman with curly blonde hair and bright, intelligent eyes chewing on a bright red pen and swearing at a computer screen. https://archiveofourown.org/works/12613188/chapters/28734552

Queen vs Queen multi-chapter WIP by @muslimsmoak - Felicity Mignonette Renaldi Smoak has been handling being a princess pretty well so far. After all, she did only find out at the ripe young age of 15. Now, she is 21 and ready to take the throne of Genovia after being under the tutelage of her aunt. But there’s only one thing in her way, wait, actually two. Two things in her way: Oliver Queen, the hot young bachelor she danced with the night of her homecoming ball, who neglected to mention that he’s after her crown alongside his uncle Malcolm Merlyn, and the fact that she has to marry within 30 days if she wants to be Queen. Ray Palmer, Duke of Keystone is sweet, sensitive, intelligent and kind and seems like the perfect choice. But marrying and falling in love are two different things. A Princess Diaries AU  https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808065/chapters/36794172

She's Not Here by who_seeks_shall_find - Felicity hated to see William crying. He's scared of forgetting his biological mom. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15837069

I'm Worried by who_seeks_shall_find - Felicity and Oliver have a lot to talk about. It's time for a late-night conversation. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15626976

Wasted Time Part 2 by @lostolicityscenes - Very sexy Olicity times!  https://lostolicityscenes.tumblr.com/post/177546910441/wasted-time-part-2

I See the Light by @smkkbert - After being grounded for dyeing her hair pink, Felicity cannot to go the fair and see the fireworks at the annual fair in Starling City. For Sara Diggle it’s a clear case! Magic hair that got her locked up and doesn’t allow her to see the lights? - That’s the story of Rapunzel, and someone has to free her from the witch’s tower. http://smkkbert.tumblr.com/post/177561036750/i-see-the-light

Finding Felicity multi-chapter WIP by @lynn8828 - After Lian Yu blew, Oliver searches for his friends and loved ones on the island. This is an AU versions of what happened when Oliver found everyone after the explosions. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15538641/chapters/36071301

The Queen's Mage multi-chapter WIP by @the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl - Words have power, and mages, those with the aptitude to draw on that power, are few in number. Thus, their services are highly sought after by anyone who has exhausted all mundane means of solving whatever problem is plaguing them. Felicity is reminded of this fact the hard way when she is hired by Moira Queen, the Lady Starling, to find and return to her son Oliver, who fled his family home five years ago following the death of his father. With a threat hanging over her should she return without Robert Queen's heir, Felicity begins her search. When she finds Oliver, and ends up joining his vigilante crusade while she waits for him to decide whether to return home, the last thing she expects to do is fall in love with him. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617068/chapters/33781269

Too Much or Not Enough by @allimariexf - He waited for her to acknowledge him. When she looked up, though, his stomach dropped at her cool expression. “Hey.” She looked away after having met his eyes for a bare moment. Oliver blinked at her in confusion, watching her face for signs, but she continued her research as if he weren’t sitting there. He huffed out an uncomfortable laugh. “Felicity….”She wrenched her eyes away from her monitor and met his gaze with calm equilibrium. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Queen?” https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859746

Elizabeth Grace Smoak multi-chapter WIP by @lynn8828 - What if Felicity and Oliver briefly had met before he got on the Gambit? Despite her best efforts, Felicity was unable to get in contact with the famous Oliver Queen after having a one night stand with him and getting pregnant with his child. After raising their child for five years after finding out that Oliver died on the Gambit, she finds out he is alive and knows that she needs to tell him about their daughter. But will he believe her? AMAZING STORY!! http://archiveofourown.org/works/13639371/chapters/31322715

Life's All About Changes multi-chapter WIP by Crazyreader2468 - After agreeing to plead guilty to being the Green Arrow in order to get FBI assistance in capturing Diaz, Oliver finds himself in a supermax, a maximum security federal prison, serving a life sentence. As he struggles to become accustomed to life in prison, his family, friends, and teammates struggle to live without him, as well as continually attempting to find a way to get him pardoned. Will they succeed in obtaining a pardon and will Oliver survive until they do? Mostly AU from right before the ending of episode 6 x 22 and after most of 6 x 23. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936172

I Want You To Be Happy by who_seeks_shall_find - William asks his dad if he wants to give his mantle to his son. Oliver doesn't know what to answer. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15871896

The Paths We Take multi-chapter WIP by griever11 - Rival CEOs AU. Felicity Smoak, CEO and founder of her own company, is trying to prove herself in the cutthroat world of the technology industry among the other bigwigs in the game. Oliver Queen, recently back from the dead is trying to prove to the world that he's no longer the same man-child who went down on the Queen's Gambit and is finally worthy of his family's legacy. Both equally formidable names in the corporate world. And both with a long, complicated history with each other that no one but themselves are privy to. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15314133/chapters/35530296

The Two of You Are My Life by who_seeks_shall_find - Felicity has been in Vegas to visit her mother. She is excited to come back to her boys. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15873093

A Series of Dates multi-chapter WIP by @alexiablackbriar13 - Oliver Queen is in love with Felicity Smoak. Felicity Smoak is in love with Oliver Queen. It takes four dates, and the help of Oliver's loyal service dog, Hunter, for them to realise that they're forever destined to be something more than just friends. https://archiveofourown.org/works/13130304/chapters/30036912

Hi, Dad by who_seeks_shall_find - Felicity makes a phone call to her dad. She needs someone to talk to and she thinks her dad is going to understand. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875026

And I Wonder (If You Wonder About Me Too) multi-chapter complete by @charlie-leau - When Felicity was eight years old, her father tucked her to bed. He read her a bedtime story and bid her goodnight. When she woke up the next day, he was gone. She never heard from him again. Heartbroken, Felicity decided not to let anyone in, ever again. She just couldn’t bring herself to trust anyone. That was until she met Ray Palmer. She fell for him, he fell for her but she still expected him to leave her. He didn’t. They got married and they were happy for a while. But deep down, she still expected him to leave her. Little did she know that she’d be the one leaving him in the end. https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899057/chapters/13599040

Arrow: Mastering a Legacy multi-chapter WIP -  An alternative season six featuring romance, family, OTA, the expanded team, the expected Star City chaos, and a few new villains. Chapter 1: Eye of the Hurricane by @bowssmoakandarrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/14695197/chapters/37018383#workskin

It's Not True by who_seeks_shall_find - Oliver knows something is bothering William. Felicity encourages Oliver to talk to his son. Finally, William brings up something that he hasn't told his parents yet. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15626916

Whiskey and Romance multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics - Felicity Smoak gets the opportunity of a lifetime to compete for the hand of Prince Tommy Merlyn. She is taken from her normal mundane Vegas life and is soon swept up into a lifestyle full of nobles, drama, obligations and chaos. All the while trying to stay afloat, someone else begins to win her heart, Tommy’s best friend, Oliver Queen. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441952/chapters/33357156

They Shouldn't Have Been There by who_seeks_shall_find - When Oliver came back from prison, the press started harassing his family even more eagerly than before. Oliver is ready to take actions when paparazzi harass William at school. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15897414

My Thoughts on You multi-chapter WIP by rachelrenalove -Felicity Smoak is sure of 3 things: 1. She's a badass and she is damn good at what she does. 2. She hates the man in the green hood. 3. Oliver Queen is a pain in her ass and she cannot wait until the day she can quit her job at Queen Consolidated. Or Felicity Smoak goes undercover at Queen Consolidated and meets Oliver Queen. She quickly realizes that she doesn't like him and wishes she was never chosen for this mission. Outside of QC, she is dealing with her hatred towards the man in the green hood that has found out exactly which buttons of hers to press in order to piss her off. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089954/chapters/34989344

If I Tremble multi-chapter WIP by @smoaking-greenarrow - A collection of prompts and ficlets, with all the smut! Olicity sexy times are the best times. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409122/chapters/35762643

I'll Be Your Daydream multi-chapter WIP by @beinmyheart - Snapshots of moments and conversations between Felicity and Oliver in Hide Away 'Verse https://archiveofourown.org/works/15882867/chapters/37008999

Oliver the (Divorce) Lawyer multi-chapter WIP @someonesaidcake - Black tie, white shirt, grey suit... when Oliver put them on that chilly December morning, he hadn't planned on meeting her. 'Her' being Felicity Smoak, the sassy dark haired college student and daughter of his (only) client. This should be fun... https://archiveofourown.org/works/14823708/chapters/34304472

Killer Frost Smoak multi-chapter Complete by @tdgal1 - Felicity is with Barry during the particle accelerator and becomes Killer Frost. How does she handle this and does she tell Oliver? http://archiveofourown.org/works/8654356/chapters/19846777

Time for a Story multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. http://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

A Parenting Manual by who_seeks_shall_find - Sometimes bribery and making your son feel guilty are needed to keep him at home. Oliver and Felicity want to spend time with their son although William has other plans. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15907647

In Starling Green multi-chapter WIP by @writewithurheart - Robin Hood AU. Lord Oliver Queen has spent the last ten years in self-imposed exile, fighting in the Holy Wars. Finally at peace with himself, he returns home with his squire, Roy Harper, at his side, but the home he remembers is not the one he finds. Oliver must find a way to reorient himself within Nottingham and Starling before he gets himself into trouble, the kind of trouble that takes the shape of some starving villagers and a beautiful blonde with a big heart. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11132355/chapters/24843060

Arrow: Mastering a Legacy multi-chapter WIP -  An alternative season six featuring romance, family, OTA, the expanded team, the expected Star City chaos, and a few new villains. Chapter 2: Take Me Out to the Ball Game by @olicitysmoaky https://archiveofourown.org/works/14695197/chapters/37018383#workskin

The Donor multi-chapter WIP by @spaztronautwriter - Felicity Smoak has always dreamed of being a mother and she isn't going to let a little thing like men stop her from making that dream come true. Having a baby by herself might just be biting off a little more than she can chew, but one way or the other it's about to change her whole life. LOVE THIS SO MUCH! http://archiveofourown.org/works/11099361

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