#Mish learning she likes even ONE is fun

[divineslcyer]

One Piece Shenanigans! –  They say Spring has a way of showing itself when one least expects it, Mishil herself thought that to be a lie... Until she met two pirating rascals. Life was never the same since encountering either man, and while she wouldn’t change it--she had to wonder if this was fated or her bloodline at work. AKA: Mishil is dense and it took her a minute to realize Oh, wait... do i like this person? Younger Mihawk and Shanks were frightening legends for sure. ( Permission to @muselexum & @akagamiko  to reblog ; Personals DNI )      

[z-and-the-space-child]

my head is all currently midnight burger podcast so here's everything i like about this wonderful piece of media:

it's pretty fun and very funny!! i smile like an idiot on public transport and on my way to class at least once a day listening to this.

the characters are so. idk how to describe them but theyre so full of life and you can tell that they are loved greatly by the creator(s)

the WRITING. i could seriously pluck a quote from damn near every episode to carry me through the day. i don't need affirmations i need gloria to talk me through my problems.

i was doing a lil analysis of the themes in this show and i came up with "the best thing you can ever do is the best thing you can do right now" and it is FUEL, babey.

The el triste monologue. also just gloria being a POC and being proud of herself and her culture. there's a lot of cultural mish-mash in podcasts, so this is very refreshing.

It's very, very sweet and heartfelt. kind of like wolf 359 if they communicated more instead of dodging their issues until they came to a peak (love them for it.)

the PHYSICS of it all. i'm a physics/astrophysics major because i think space and looking at the stars is my lifeblood so i won't shut up about it. i don't want ava and leif (certainly ava) to shut up about it ever. HOW much reasearch did they have to do to get this kinda grasp on it. im in awe, i'm LEARNING actual things from them. i could go on. the gravity waves, the stellar nuclear fusion, the time dilation of it all. and all without using over-flowery language!!! i can actually follow a good chunk of the time. are we sure ava didn't take one of those science communication seminars. maybe 5 phds does it. when she and leif talk i vibrate like an electron in a lazer. wonderful.

star sequencing??? stellar nucleosequencing??? right up my alley. thats my kinda stuff. the romanticization of space, i've seen. the romanticization of physics, however, is not something i haven't seen in such a beautiful modern fashion. (Ie, not oppenheimer or even richard feyman)

and it's not too science-y to the point that they think they can't have fun. yes they discuss the implications of gravity waves and wax poetic about space and pulsars. (it beats for you, berts) but they have FUN! they meet their parents because they can. they get a plant drunk. there's an atmosphere(?????) around the diner that allows them to fly around and mind-numbing speeds and look at the curvature of spacetime and also sit on the roof. (I imagine the entire place is the temperature of a summer night.) they have a whole wild west planet. leif builds things inexplicably. how? where does he get the materials??? shhhhh don't question it just let him have the gravity wave detector. nobody actually knows what engineers do, not even engineers. let him be. also time crystals??????

ALSO ava being a woman in stem and being so blunt yet covert about it. she's been dealing with it for so long. why are all (recognized) physicists a)white b) men c) both. it's such a sucky thing to work into because of the outward appearance. ava is a proud mad scientist which i aspire to so much. i am keeping her in my little arsenal of people to think about when i don't want to study. (picture the do it for her meme but it's pics of ava) I don't think i aptly put how much i love her. i'm not all the way finished yet but i've heard she was forced to marry someone? i think it would be a thing for sure if she cheated on him. so many physicists cheated on their spouses (wives ): ) and i think ava should also do it. as a treat. if that's what she'd like.

when people have done bad, bad things but show/are capable of redemption upon reflecting on their past/current shortcomings is just something that gets me so much directly in the heart. the hiddenness of people. the tragedy. we contain MULTITUDES and this show demonstrates that so well. how they support each other! they are everchanging and that's good for them. Leif the engineer the ex criminal the diner cook.

leif exploding a man in cold blood. if i could draw i'd draw that. maybe i will anyways.

food as a form of affection/way to bond. grief. doing your best. making amends. using the time you have. death is inevitable but that's okay.

And if time and tide roil you too harshly, or diurnal courses leave you with no safe havens, just remember we’re out there, somewhere, lookin’ for ya’

they open at six

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

https://www.tumblr.com/jamdoughnutmagician/730882062233518080

I hope this is ok and I’m not sure how to just like share it to your wall kind of thing tumbler is still kind of new to me. But the picture made me think of Curtis and Honey immediately and I hope it’s ok I shared it with you. Love there story and the playful Drabble you’ve done. I connected to that so much. My life if chaos at the moment and my bf has been a trouper and so supportive. It’s such a fine line between laughing at the bad stuff or crying and he’s held me when I cried and made sure I’m laughing too. Even if he’s a cheater and tickles..

Sorry that was a rant. Either way love Curtis and Honey and thought I would share. Thank you for the moments of peace when I’m reading your stories!

Hey babes,

its a bit of a process to learn, it doesn't really let you post on walls like FB does, but you can tag someone in a post you want them to see. Or this, this is perfectly fine with me if you wanted to stay anonymous.

Thank you so much for sharing, I can see Curtis pulling this off easily. He would make it so spontaneous too that Honey is in shock for a moment before she is shouting "YES!"

Im so happy that they have been able to be a source of comfort for you during this time, hopefully things start to get calmer and more settled for you babes. Your boyfriend sounds absolutely wonderful though, an absolute sweetheart. That support, knowing when you need some light laughter or just when to cry... oof I love that for you. It's that support we all deserve. I can even forgive him that he cheats by tickling you into giggles.

You are welcome and thank you for reading them! Honestly, they have gotten this far because of you guys letting me know what they make you think and feel. I hope this little thought helps. 💛🐝

And Chill?

Curtis x Honey Drabble

Your nose was stuck in a book, but not one of those fun ones you would become so invested in that Curtis often brought you tea and snacks after a few hours because you had forgotten.

This book was the newest teacher's handguide and it was reading as stiff as a stereo instruction manual. Already you had doodled along all the edges of the pages with random little pictures trying to keep yourself awake.

And the house was quiet, Curtis having left to help Grey and Edgar with a weekend project. So not even he could help distract you this time with it. So when you started humming along with the Halloween theme song, it clicked that the noise was coming from outside of the picture window. "What the hell?" You flung the book aside and got up from the couch to go peer outside.

Moving aside one of the gauzy curtains, you saw Curtis standing in the front yard, his black trench coat tails flipping in the bit of wind bustling the leaves around the yard among the Halloween decorations, above his head he was holding a cardboard sign reading "Horror Movies and Chill?" with a sketch of what looked like Micheal Myers peering around a bush. The music came from what looked like a dusty old tape player at his feet.

You waved quickly before bolting for the door and dancing out onto the porch. "Yes! Big giant YES!" You giggled as he let his arms drop the sign to tuck under his arm and reached to grab his boom box that was still doing the ominous theme song. "I can make us some snacks and pop some beers." You excitedly said while going down the stairs to meet him.

"No need Pretty Girl, already ordered us some takeout. You my Love just gotta get into comfier clothes than those. Although..." He leaned back a bit, smirking as his eyes fell down your teacher's outfit. "Keep on those stockings?"

"I will surprise you... Horror movies and just chill huh?" You tilted up to catch his mouth, sharing a kiss that you both grinned into.

"Cuddles too, all the cuddles Honey. Promise."

"Perfect, just what I was hoping for today, Curtis." You reached for the boom box's volume, turning it up when it switched to the Ghostbusters song, dancing away back up the stairs with a sway of your body, glancing at Curtis over your shoulder.

Curtis was right behind you, crowding you playfully through the door with a press of his body and the graze of his beard against your neck, making you tingle. Tonight was already so much better.

[frulie-friendshipblogz]

Hi there! Welcome to our blog!

“Hi! My name is Julie Joyful! I love playing games, sometimes I try to get Poppy to play with me, but she never wants to leave her barn, so I hang out with Frank more often! Poppy’s more like a sister to me anyways, but that’s not the point! Oh! And I also like singing and dancing and playing games! Wait…. I already said that, didn’t I? Silly me! Frank and I made up this game where we look around for bugs or sticks or flowers and when we find one, we give it to the other and see who can name it faster! I’ve learned a lot about bugs from Frank, they’re really cool! Plus, we also sing together sometimes too! :D”

“Hello, my name is Frank Frankly! I’m not… quite sure what all this is about. Julie insists on documenting our friendship on this, “blog”. My interests include bug hunting and gardening! I’m particularly interested in butterflies, wonderful creatures aren’t they? Julie and I are in fact close friends, one might even call us best friends. Her antics are never-ending, always creating some new game, which usually is a gross mish-mash of other (more thought-out) games. I’ll never really understand her complete lack of regard for the rules. Frankly, I‘ve always felt there’s more fun to be had when everyone stays in line. Not-so-secretly, though, I do enjoy a good musical number! That’s something Julie and I will always agree on! At the end of the day, our friendship is a paradox that defys most logic. And yet, here we are! As closely nit as a blooming flowerbed.”

[more-than-a-princess]

Continued from here for @mechatiqe!

Her question performed as it was intended: all traces of Kazuichi's self-apprehension seemed to have dissipated after they'd left the café. It was either the distraction or the pleasant weather, and Sonia wasn't about to question either if it kept him from both panicking and from fawning over her. Both were, in their own ways, equally disastrous. "So you grew up with a wrench in your hands then," Sonia confirmed with a small smile, waiting until the light changed before beginning to cross the street. She wasn't an expert, but she felt fairly certain that all cars made the sounds Kazuichi described. Perhaps it was like trying to choose a favorite book or horror antagonist: some things just couldn't be selected out of so many wonderful options and he simply loved all cars equally. "And you like understanding how all of the parts come together to make a moving vehicle, is that correct?"

That part, Sonia couldn't really understand. But the driving of cars...or rather, watching others drive (she had to remember she was in a foreign country. Even if being heir to the Novoselic throne made needing a driver's license redundant at home, Japan would not be so lenient with her tendency to take a car for a spin around the grounds of various royal properties). That, at least, she could relate to: she had seen, and done, her fair share. "Soda-san, have you ever attended a car race?" She asked eagerly, their conversation prompting her to ignore the siren song of the bookstore closest to Hope's Peak's campus. Alongside cafes and konbinis, she spent much of her free time there. For someone who always had an assistant to order whatever she needed, Sonia was spoiled for choice with novels, manga, and various blu-rays of films and shows she wanted to add to her print media collection, and she could hand over her own money in person to acquire them. "With the formal track, and spectator stands, and professional drivers and the various organizations that sponsor them? They are great fun! I have attended the Monaco Grand Prix a few times, but never a race in Japan."

The Formula One circuit was one of many, Sonia had learned, but she suspected Japan would have something similar. And if Kazuichi's family was a prestigious one in the world of automobile repair, then it was likely their expertise might be sought for racing cars. Still, her smile faltered when he brought up that connection. It reminded her, for better or worse, that she was different than many of her friends. They chose their talents and passions, grew into them, evolved with them and truly shaped them as their own identity. Sonia had been given no choice in the matter of her talent, or future for that matter, the moment she was born: she was a princess who would become queen one day, and she would spend her entire life devoted to that singular cause until the day she died. For the most part she flourished, her heart and mind open to love and learn, preserving tradition and taking steps into a prosperous future. But there were times when she wished for something else, something more, something she herself had chosen all on her own to be passionate about and share it with the world. Sure, she adored her horror movies and the occult and true crime stories involving various serial killers and cult leaders, but that wasn't something like cars. Everyone, despite understanding them or not, could accept cars: her personal interests made others, for the most part, uncomfortable at best and downright worried for her future at worst (her mother leading the charge of that group, of course).

"Y-yes," She piped up as they passed a supermarket. Another fascinating place, though one she was discouraged to visit alone. When unchaperoned, Sonia tended to buy a mish-mash of items that could hardly make up a meal even if they were prepared with skill and expertise, neither of which she possessed when it came to culinary pursuits. "That seems like how it should be: that talent comes from following a passion, a choice one has made to pursue for the rest of their lives." Something she couldn't relate to, but now that she'd said it, realized she adored seeing in so many of her classmates, Kazuichi included.

That included the unexpected: Sonia had, perhaps foolishly, assumed Kazuichi's interests began and ended with the following things: cars, giant mechanical devices that on some occasions seemed to move on their own, and herself, though not necessarily in that order. "You like trains as well?" She asked, eyebrows raised as they approached Hope's Peak Academy's front gates, and the guard who also raised his eyebrows at the two. Though in his case, it was because the pairing walking together and having civil conversation seemed less than unlikely, it was truly a hell frozen over situation. Kazuichi idolized her and on more than one occasion, Sonia had clearly proclaimed that he was her stalker and she did not care for his attention. "I am a bit more familiar with those! Riding them, anyway: my family is given use of the Royal train carriages at home, which is often how we travel around Western Europe when needed. It is not as cool as public trains I suppose, especially Japanese bullet trains, but I am fond of it nevertheless."

Many of the carriages had only been renovated as much as needed for modern luxuries, leaving the overall design an homage to the elegant train eras of the 19th and early 20th Centuries. A trip to the past, which her life seemed to constantly be unless she challenged the Royal social norms. The same norms that, when considering a field trip, Sonia could only suggest what she'd been deprived of as the Princess of Novoselic.

"Oh, well, that is an easy choice," She beamed, her cheeks turning lightly pink. "Though my idea of a 'field trip' is nothing terribly refined. You see, we do not have amusement parks in Novoselic, and I would very much like to visit one. One with very tall and very fast roller coasters! And haunted houses! I have read that some amusement parks even put on a temporary theme during the fall for Halloween, with even more spooky and scary entertainment! I should like to see that and ride all of the 'thrills,' indeed!"

[lepusrufus]

The Dimitrescu daughters' hobbies headcanons (Bela):

Her study is in one of the higher areas of the castle

And she has plants. Lots of them 

She first discovered her love for keeping plants when Donna gave her a small pot with one of her easier to keep plants and Bela just fell down the rabbit hole 

In that same vein, she often visits Donna to ask for advice on keeping different plants and she is happy to talk to her about something she loves (especially when one of her sisters tag along and keep Angie entertained)

She would love to keep a small garden but decided against it since she wouldn't be able to personally tend to it during winter (and where's the fun if you're not the one elbows deep in mud)

So Alcina set up a room with huge windows but still well heated for her 

Other than plants she likes to play different instruments like the piano

It's really calming for her since learning to play surrounded by her plants makes her feel at peace 

Until one day her sisters come to tell her that dinner is ready only to hear her blasting Rasputin on the piano 

Her collection of sheet music is just a wild mish mash of classical music and the randomest modern songs

"Cassandra pass me the Danse Macabre sheets they're under the twenty one pilots pile" "Bela what the fuck"

She also likes reading of course tho that's something all three have in common 

Her go to reading material is usually classics but has the occasional spark of interest for science that she got from Alcina 

Has, on multiple occasions, smacked Daniels with her pocket sized copy of Dante's inferno 

She has a couple arm chairs and a small coffee table set up around the fireplace up there 

She'll never admit that it's for her sisters but they're welcome to hang out there most times 

Her space is the definition of an organized mess

It's not necessarily cluttered but it would look messy to everyone else even though she can find everything with no issue

[filthforfriends]

Lyrics to LIVIDI SUI GOMITI

Calm Down!", I said, "Look at me!" / Haven't you ever seen those that danced with fucking devils? / Those who grew up with strong dreams but frail hands / Those who were thrown into the pit, pushed to the margins/ Covered with gold and then pierced, the beautiful Frida Khalo

So you stay with your crowd / Crawl, pray, blend in / We don't give a fuck about you / And the crowd you eat, crawl, pray, vomit with / We don't lack courage, we are fearless / We grew up with bruises on our elbows

And if you want to know my story, sit down and listen up / Wanting to shine, being afraid when everyone else is complicit / Beautiful morals, but made for half men / A secular culture, but made of stereotypes / And I've been kicked around many times without complaint / I'm zero, but zero pisses on you and your crowd

- LIVIDI SUI GOMITI

A mish-mash of my fav poignant Må translated into English

I hear a thousand voices speaking, but I don't hear what they're saying / I look in the mirror and I imagine I’m in a circus / On a merry-go-round of happiness and I don't want to get off of it / Even if I'm not having fun anymore

And so take me, bite me, strip me of everything / I still won't be afraid of the dark / When I'll be on the ground, shattered / I still won't be afraid of the dark / And so spit on me, tear my clothes off of me / I still won't be afraid of the dark / And so buy me, sell me, do everything to me

- LA PAURA DEL BUIO

But I'm twenty and I'm already wondering if I'm too tired / If what I need is what I've desired / If one day I'll be able to feel fulfilled / And I'm scared

And you, keep yourself one step away from my ass, you dickhead / I've always chosen to be one and one only / Sometimes I cried, but this is not stopping me / I want my payback

Has someone ever talked to you about what being an artist is? / About all that I lost, that I sacrificed / About losing your voice, being left with no breath / About having a thousand people waiting for one your mistake / And the push of my anger doesn't end / I hope that paper will take my past away

- IN NOME DEL PADRE

And will you put the blame on others / or will you be the guilty one? / Will you run straight to the sun / or towards the dark? / Will you be ready to battle / to always search for freedom and to go one step further, / to always be true, / to explain what colour is / to those who see black and white? / Promise that you’ll speak about me to everyone tomorrow / Even though I’m 20 years old, I’ll have to run

And you’re only 20 / I’m writing to you now / before it’s too late / The doubt about / being nobody will hurt

-VENT’ANNI

If you hear the bells toll / you'll see Coraline mourning / She takes the pain of others / and carries it inside her

Not everyone can keep going / with a heart split in two / It's cold already / She's only a girl but she can feel / a kind of heaviness and sooner or later, she'll break / People will say "She's worth nothing" / Uncapable of even walking out the damn door / But one day, one time she'll succeed

And so Coraline mourns / Coraline is anxious / Coraline likes the sea, but she's scared of the waters / Perhaps because the sea is inside her / And every word feels like an axe / A cut on the back / Like a raft sailing / the river in flood / and perhaps the river is inside her

I’ll even be a soldier / or the evening light / And I'm not asking for anything in return / but a smile / Each of your tiny tears is like an ocean on my face / And I'm not asking for anything in return / just a bit of time

Coraline, Coraline, tell me your truths

She's lost the fruit of her womb / She's never known love / Only a father who's not much of a father

- CORALINE

The sun is illuminating the people's weaknesses / A salty tear wets my cheek, while / With blood on my hands I'll climb all the peaks / I want to get where the human eye stops / In order to learn to forgive all of my sins / Let's run away from those who are too thirsty for revenge / From this motionless land, because I'm feeling it stifled now

I was in the balance between being the victim and being the judge / And I'm in doubt, whether they were deaths or rebirths

- TORNA A CASA

Because your mistake was loving me as if / Tomorrow the world would be the same as yesterday

Because I feel the anxiety that rises, I drink the bitter tears / Please let me lose myself in the water of the sea / Because the distant words, I swear I want to shout them

Now, take me home because the winter scares me, and my legs are giving up. / You can't see how much I'm freezing.

- LA PAROLE LONTANE

You poor bastards / Restrained with handcuffs / Tied with rope / You look like, yes, marionettes / But I write songs / So they'll last forever / Leave me alone, leave me alone / Let me fly away

“Yea, you're too young / Young for this, and no, you can't fly / It’s still too soon” / “But it's not for money or for fame or for respect, but / But only for my plan”

Now, I have the power it takes to be reborn / To see the dirty side of your masks

- LASCIAMI STARE

[gojosgigi]

Dance class.

summary : there’s a new girl in harry’s dance class. a very charming girl, might i add.

pairing : harry styles [au] x fem!brown!reader.

warnings: i don’t think there are any, honestly.

A/N: hi, this is my first writing that i actually post (i have like a billion drafts hahaha). i just want to note that english is not my native language, and that i’m still learning. hope you enjoyed this, and please, please let me know what you think. any constructive criticism, and advice is very much welcomed. as i said, i am still learning, and wish to improve my writing. if there are any grammatical errors, or this came off as cringe-y, i apologise in advance. thank you, and i hope you enjoy. :)) love always, G 🤍

Since harry wasn’t exactly the best dancer in the world, he decided it’d be fun to join a dance class.

“what is it that you can’t learn if you try?” with that thought, he made the decision to join this dance class, for which there wasn’t any specific dance type they taught, they taught multiple ones. all the way from simple pop, to contemporary, belly dancing to salsa. It was sort of a mish-mash of everything. There were two dance instructors, they always had prepared-choreographed dances that they taught.

At first, harry felt shy to dance in front of people, even tho the group wasn’t that big. Which one of the instructor of the two , Lidiya, caught up with, noticing his body language. She re-assured him there was nothing to feel conscious about, and that all the other people were there to learn too. Even tho her words were comforting, it took harry some time to adjust and get comfortable. Which, soon, he did. He even became friends with the people in the class. His warmth, kindness, and undeniable charm, was something hard not to grow captivated to.

“Hi, Lola!” harry said, walking in class, greeting the blonde girl. She returned his greeting with a smile.

“you’re early today” she said, teasing him for being late most the time.

“i’m not always late, okay?”

“sure.” she said, with a small smirk. Harry shook his head. “hey! almost forgot. Nona sent these for you” she handed him a box of cookies.

“god i love Nona.” he said, thanking her and asking her to thank Nona for him.

“and she loves you too, so much, to the point where i wonder if she loves you more than she loves me.” she said, causing harry to chuckle.

He was about to say something, but gets cut off, unintentionally, by the instructor, Max.

“Hello,everyone! how are we today?” he asks, setting his bag down. “Lidiya will be here in about two minutes, or atleast that’s what she texted me. then we’ll start class, okay?”

The group acknowledges with nods and small “okay” s.

Harry continues his conversation with Lola, when he hears the door open. the sound of a beautiful, and almost comforting laugh fills his ears.

he looks over to see Lidiya walk in, accompanied with a gorgeous dark-eyed girl. Her hair falling perfectly down her shoulders, wearing a black outfit with white shoes, looking absolutely beautiful.

“Hi, everybody! i’m so sorry i’m late.” Lidiya announced “Damn does this one take time getting ready” she said, humorously, earning a playful glare from the dark haired girl. “This is y/n, by the way. My best friend, she’ll be joining us from now on.”

Y/n looked around the room, letting out a small “hi”, waving. her eyes seemed to stop for a second when they met harry’s. Harry felt blood rush to his cheeks.

Their small moment was intruded by Max’s voice, y/n turned her attention to him. “you guys said two minutes. two minutes!” He said, causing y/n to chuckle. “there was traffic” she said, Lidiya and her let out small laughs. “in LA? you found traffic in LA?” max questioned, shaking his head. shrugging her shoulders, smirking “nothing is impossible, my boy.” she patted his shoulders. “just take your place, okay?” he said, she chuckled.

She walked over to stand in the empty spot next to Harry. “Hi! Y/n Y/l/n” she said, offering him handshake. “her accent” he thought to himself. “Hello, i’m harry.” he said, shaking her hand. “what a beautiful name you have” “you think so?” she said, smiling. “how sweet of you! always secretly thought it wasn’t- well, let’s just say, not the best” she laughs, harry too let’s out a chuckle.

they continue the small-talk, which soon gets cut off by music. “Let’s get this started, shall we?” Lidiya says, over the music.

The class went by, a share of awkward chuckles and small sweet glances, and smiles shared by the newly-met duo.

Y/n was an exceptional dancer, harry thought. He wasn’t just saying that because he might as well have been biased [a/n : he is biased. he is very much biased, but this ain’t about him] she was actually very impressive.

as the class tries to do the steps being demonstrated by Max, Lidiya takes a round around the class trying to help anyone who’s struggling. Y/n notices her untied shoe and bends down to tie it, Lidiya runs over with small, quickening steps and slaps her bum, laughing. “Oi!” she yelps. harry couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “find something funny, curly?” she asks, shooting him a playful glare. He shakes his head “no” still laughing. the dark haired girl rolls her eyes, playfully before joining in.

—— —— ——

It was about 1:45 am, at the moment. and harry still couldn’t sleep. blaming only and only y/n for simply just not leaving his thoughts. her beautiful eyes, her angelic smile, her laugh, her rose gold coloured watch, her little hair tie that she had on her wrist, her sweet, bubbly humour, her kind personality, the way she walked, the way she treated and talked to other people, the way she called him “curly” once , how much she loved her best friend, her accent— oh her accent! harry loved her accent, it was so- so intellectual, in a way, combined with her beautiful voice. harry could listen to her talk all day. y/n might as well be the most captivating person he’s met!

harry was never the kind of person to get crushes on people by just meeting them once , but there was something about y/n that harry just couldn’t ignore. he still wouldn’t say he had a crush on her, he was just so in awe of her.

harry liked whatever it was that he was feeling. he felt happy, something he hasn’t felt in a long time. there was a certain sweetness to it. his only bummer is that he’s going to have to wait all the way till thursday to see her again.

[amintyworld]

Dream SMP Fusion AU:

Certainly not me thinking about a Steven Universe AU for Dream SMP because fusions

Also, just to note: Not all fusions are for romantic relationships, so please no shipping since many of the creators are uncomfortable with that. The one somewhat romantic relationship fusion mentioned is between the characters Schlatt and Quackity, and are the only ones classified as such for the lore and story already created - I do not ship them whatsoever. Thank you.

Also, feel free to use these ideas with credit!

TW: Abusive Relationship, Toxic Realtionship, manipulation.

So like, what if during the L’manburg Independence War L’manburg was the only ones who really fused with each other, and the Dream SMP just never really thought it was useful and therefore didn’t really use it all that much for battle, pvp, etc. 

They discovered fusion one day while building the wall when a bit of debris was about to fall on Fundy and Wilbur swooped in to save him, and suddenly... a whole completely different person stood in their place. It didn’t last very long, but Wilbur from then on was determined to learn all he could about it and understand it. 

Wilbur couldn’t seem to explain his findings much scientifically, but he wrote up a journal on all he learned - how the fusion seems to combine and showcase the best parts of each individual person.

An iconic Steven Universe Scene takes place (For you SU fans, when Smoky Quartz first came to be) when Tommy in a effort to get his discs back one day tries to take Dream head on, pushing away Tubbo’s help. Tommy gets throughly beat up by Dream and in a heartfelt moment Tommy tells Tubbo that no matter what he does Dream will always win against him because he’s not strong enough. Then, Tubbo says that that’s not true, that Tommy doesn’t have to be like Dream, if anything Tommy’s like him because they both aren’t like anybody else, and it sucks, but they have each other. Finally Tommy accepts Tubbo’s help as they fuse for the first time.

Eret and Niki fused once while hanging out and dancing one day, which led Wilbur to discover how to trigger the fusion in a more controlled manner - through dancing. 

The war happens with the revolution holding better against Dream and his posse for the short fact that they had fusion on their side - they weren’t totally confident in the ability yet, which lead to some close calls to unfusing at the wrong time, but a few prominent fusions came out of it. In the end, they won and Wilbur continued to write his findings in the journal.

The election came about, and with it the exile of Wilbur and Tommy - this time the two were on the receiving end of fighting with fusions.

Wilbur even suggested on fusing together for survival - together they were more combat skilled, and better focused. After all, there was lesser chance of hurting one target than there was two. So, for a while they stayed together, at least, until Technoblade came to help.

Techno was very awkward at the whole fusion thing - it seemed stupid, and the poor pig hybrid didn’t exactly dance very well, though he was often too embarrassed to admit it. Techno didn’t understand how his two brothers could fuse so easily while he just... couldn’t. (I’m imagining Wilbur coaching him in Pogtopia while Tommy has to wear paint cans in order to each his height)

While out together, the sight of Tubbo causes Wilbur and Tommy to become so distressed they unfuse as Tubbo tells them he wants to help, and becomes their spy.

Back in Manburg, a certain goat hybrid finds Wilbur’s fusion journal and does some light reading. Schlatt thinks that he needs fusion soldiers to fight for him - from what he’s reading, these fusions are practically unstoppable. If he were to have that kind of power at his disposal, no one could stop him.

Being the ‘selfless’ leader he is, he uses himself as a test subject as he fuses with his militia - Punz, Ponk...

Quackity at first makes fun of his attempts as always within five minutes the fusion quickly falls apart. This only pisses of Schlatt more, until he comes up with an idea. 

He confronts Fundy and tells him that if he was loyal to Manburg, and their desires aligned, they’d be able to fuse no problem. Fundy agrees and they become the first completed fusion in Manburg - Fundy only does it because he wants to keep suspicion low and his cover a secret, and it somehow works. Schlatt doesn’t question Fundy much after that.

As the festival gets planned Schlatt continues his tactic of sniffing out traitors through fusion, which does not bode well for Tubbo, who keeps narrowly escaping having to fuse (Looking at the ‘I’m pregnant’ excuse-).

Back in Pogtopia, tensions rise as Wilbur and Tommy become more and more distant as Wilbur plans to blow up Manburg during the festival. 

Festival happens, not much really changes except Schlatt tries to get Niki to fuse with him to prove she wasn’t a traitor and not get killed like Tubbo - Wilbur overhears and intervenes, running away with Niki back to Pogtopia, fusing with her to help both of them escape.

When Quackity tries to leave, Schlatt forces him to fuse to stop the traitor from escaping, and for the first time, the two get trapped in a mixed up mess of a fusion - nothing is combined of the two, it’s all a mish mashed up mess - thankfully they aren’t fused for long and Quackity escapes, but both have the feeling of agony, sorrow and pain of the forced fusion in their minds. 

They take back L’manburg with some awesome fusion v fusion fights.

In a last attempt to keep from dying, Schlatt forces Quackity to fuse with him again in exchange that he release Tubbo, who was on his last cannon life (Schlatt held up a knife to his throat.) Once again, Quackity is trapped down in the painful and dark abyss as their fusion makes mass destruction. Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno all fuse to take  the unstable fusion down.

They succeed in doing so, fatally wounding Schlatt enough to corner him, the stress, drugs, and alcohol combing into a panic attack and he dies. 

From there, things proceed as normal - Techno releases the Withers, Wilbur pushes the button. 

New L’manburg is thriving with Tubbo as the new president... everyone can finally be who they want to be - wounds of course are still healing.

Quackity talks with Tubbo about his bad experience with Schlatt, and Tubbo is there to listen and always tells him that he doesn’t have to fuse if he doesn’t want to... of course fusion can be helpful (Some fusions have been helping repair the TNT and Wither damage) but, Tubbo insists, you don’t have to fuse to be able to help.

Ranboo gets a crash course in fusion basics by Phil and Ghostbur. (It’s like gem classroom, it’s all so cute guys-)

Phil also helps out Fundy who’s still iffy about Wilbur and all that he did for him... namely, fusing with Schlatt to avoid suspicion. It’s all wholesome and sweet, even with Ghostbur and his failed attempts to help in the background.

Things play out as normal in terms of plot - Techno retires, Tommy gets exiled...

Dream, at first, is very committed to blowing up Tommy’s stuff - one day, he says he won’t do it only if Tommy fuses with him, because he’s curious in how it works. 

This turns straight up unhealthy during the Beach Party when Tommy remembers all the times he used to have and how he feels so lonely, and Dream tells him that he’s always gonna be there for him even if they don’t, which results in Tommy and Dream fusing for a while whenever he comes to visit so Tommy won’t feel as lonely or as depressed. Tommy becomes dependent on Dream and the fusing and clings to it to an unhealthy amount, though Tommy of course wouldn’t admit that.

Eventually, Dream blows up Logstedshire and leads to Tommy running away in a brief moment of clarity. 

Phil gets under house arrest as the Butcher Gang try to take Techno down to kill him, but Phil, the ever to clever, gets there before they do and fuses with Techno to help take them down. They unfuse when Quackity threatens Techno’s horse, revealing that Phil snuck out. Techno covers for him and tells them that he broke Phil out, that it’s his fault and Phil had nothing to do with it. They believe him and Phil is in the clear.

The attempt fails, Techno finds Tommy and the two continue to practice fighting while fused - Tommy’s idea from his experience fighting with Wilbur - and they’re pretty strong. Ranboo and Ghostbur hang around and ooo and ahh over their moves.

Tubbo visits Tommy and as in cannon believes he’s dead but for a different reason - he finds evidence of when Tommy and Dream were playing around while fused and thinks that they’re permently fused - Dream forged a letter claiming that exact thing. Tubbo of course blames himself for losing his best friend.

Back in New L’manburg, the Butcher Gang gets fusion training too (except for Quackity) and Ranboo finally fuses for the first time with Fundy, the fusion turning into what a 12 year old would be like on redbull.

While on house arrest, Phil tries fusing with Ghostbur and to his surprise... it works - not for very long, but it works. They come to the conculsion that since Ghostbur is a ghost, that maybe it wasn’t two people fusing but instead a soul and a person, leading to the imbalance.

While Techno and Tommy are fused, they hold Connor captive and ask for ransom... leading Tubbo to be extremely confused when someone he doesn’t know is asking ransom from him who appearently knows him-?!

Only after they unfuse... Tubbo realizes that Tommy’s still... here. He’s still here and not in a fusion with Dream. Things go as in cannon.

Finally, after Dream figures out where Tommy is and tells Techno, any chance he gets with Tommy alone he tries to tell him that they could fix everything if they just fused again, and Tommy keeps finding himself refusing.

Anyway, what do ya’ll think? Should I do a follow up post for the fusions?

[literaphobe]

my day was actually pretty good !! so basically i don't talk to anyone in highschool except for these two girls but basically my anxiety is really bad and i have trouble with speech.

but today we had a presentation and that usually means in the end people can ask about the topic we presented and it can turn into a pretty exciting debate. and basically my former debate kid was revived by dream apparently, because i SLAYED my two girls hyped me up after for talking so well :DDD

how about you mish what were you up to? whatd you eat today?

I HAD KOREAN BBQ W MY SISTER we found this tiny place w a HELLA good deal and it was early so no one else was there p much so we got like. really good service and we chatted :D i also got subway earlier w my friends for breakfast did u know me and my friend eat subway w like. egg mayo and tuna. like idk why they go really well together it was a recent discovery of mine but like my friend p <- gonna call her that from now on like we just have the almost SAME damn order for subway do u know how hard it is to find someone who gets the order anyway i told my sister i get italian bread now and she was like IVE BEEN SAYING THE ITALIAN BREAD IS GOOD :(((( apparently subway (in my country at least) ran out of hearty italian which my sister used to like poor baby

anyway THAT SOUNDS SO FUN im so proud of u anon i love slaying discussions and class debates like two friends is plenty its about the quality not the quantity so im so glad ur friends hyped u up :) i have a penal discussion activity for my linguistics class tomorrow and i used to do linguistics so hopefully i got this in the bag. idek what the question is so it will prob be easy like we don't even need to do phonetic transcription for this class!!! wtf!!! obviously they wouldn't do that for a class that's just to add to like. our sense of learning and culture or whatever but like,,,

[miraculouscontent]

(Shanghai-related asks)

.

Anonymous said:

Did you see how, supposedly, the reason Marinette goes to Shanghai is bc Adrien is there. Because you know, that's a totally normal thing to do.

You know, there’s this suspension of disbelief where characters are allowed to do certain things that you’re like, “okay that’s not realistic but it’s fun so I don’t mind.”

Yeah, this is not fun.

Anonymous said:

Based on the new trailer for the Shanghai special, one of my biggest fears is that we won't see Marinette interacting with Sabine's family outside of Uncle Wang, even Sabine is nowhere to be seen in the trailer, please ZAG at least give us one of Sabine's parents, we're starving

I’m still rolling my eyes that there’s not one piece of dialog with Sabine talking about stuff related to her family, though her cheongsam is also flipped so--

Anonymous said:

Synopsis for the Shanghai Special: To join Adrien in Shanghai, Marinette is going to visit her uncle Wang who is celebrating his anniversary. But, as soon as she arrives in China, her purse gets stolen with Tikki inside, whom she needs to secretly transform into Ladybug! Without money and alone in the immense city, Marinette accepts the help of a young and resourceful girl, Fei. The two girls will ally and discover the existence of a new magical jewel, the Prodigious. Hawk Moth, also also present in Shanghai, seeks to finding it since a long time... Yea, cause Marinette still hasn’t suffered enough :p

mAriNEtTe mAkeS a mIsTakE iN eVeRY sToRY

Anonymous said:

As someone of Chinese descent, I felt extremely bothered by how miniscule the boy's , the one on the right (?) taking a picture with Adrien, eyes were when I saw the Shanghai trailer. It feels extremely... stereotypical? Not sure if that's the right word. I mean, he could just be squinting, but it still bothers me. Especially if that's their normal eye shape.

I heard similar complaints when Kagami arrived. They really stress the eye shape when it comes to someone full-on Asian (and if you’re half-Asian then you get wholly round eyes which makes no sense). It also gets weird because I feel like we have characters in the show who could pass for Asian (Mireille at least has the proper eye shape without it being over-exaggerated; I don’t remember if her skin tone is correct or not), but when characters are actually Asian, it’s usually taken to the exaggeration.

My sympathy goes out to everyone of Chinese descent who’s going to have to deal with the special. I’m literally a mish-mash of whiteness (American, French, and German) but even I know it must suck.

Anonymous said:

im tempted to watch the Shanghi special with my family, we're part chinese and have been to shanghi a few times. Then we can laugh and yell at it together, no need for show context

omg

As long as you have fun! Give it a good roast for me!

Anonymous said:

Excuse my french (pun intended) but

WHAT EVER LOVING HELL HAPPEN TO THE SPECIAL!!

Marketing.

Also the writers wanting to make sure you don’t forget that Adrien is a guy who exists.

Anonymous said:

Hi, Clarity! If you don't mind me asking, do you have any thoughts on the upcoming Shanghai special based on the information and trailers we have?

When I found out that Marinette was spending time with her great-uncle Wang, I was so excited. I was hoping that this special will be a breath of fresh air and spontaneously focus just on Marinette and her family for once. Maybe we'd explore Marinette's Chinese heritiage and learn more about her mother, Sabine and extended maternal family.

Then I saw Gabriel in which I eye-rolled 180* like any degree of character development. Like... great... more needless Miraculous lore/exposition. (Can we even call it exposition? I doubt any of the Miraculous-related events will be referenced within the show.) Whilst Miraculous lore is great and does expand our knowledge on the Miraculous, it steals any individual focus that Marinette could potentially have. It also tends to "hands everything" to Hawk Moth, who gets almost everything done his way without him even trying. Hmm, I guess as Shadow Moth, he won't have to use Mayura as his catslyst anymore. He'll have to ruffle his own feathers. (I don't know why I'm making a bird joke about Gabriel here. I hate him snd I couldn't care less about him.)

Also by reading the special's synopsis, it mentions that Adrien and Gabriel go to China for an unknown reason (maybe business related.) So Marinette decides to go to spend time with him (also spend time with Wang concurrently.) This might be a minor issue but I don't want Adrien to always be the centre focus of Marinette's motivations/desires. (He isn't always but I feel he is more than he should be.) Let our beautiful amazing girl just have an amazing time with her family in China. The writers need to stop Adrien being an integral part of Marinette's character. This special should be about Marinette (along with her family) and them solely.

Moreover, I'm worried that Marinette will imminently be embarassed/scolded/humiliated in some way. The synopsis mentions that she loses her bag (that contains Tikki.) Inevitably, she's going to be scolded for this for not being careful. The writers will blame her for the destruction that Hawk Moth will cause and not the actual man terrorising Shanghai himself. And no needless lovesquare drama please. If I'm not interested in it in Paris, don't think I'll be interested in it in Shanghai. And please do not let it be used to cause Mari/LB to suffer. Romance (no matter how contrived it is in this show) should be about finding joy and happiness. It should never intentionally be a burden for anybody, especially if it's for comedic purposes. Why am I worried that CN will yell at LB this time?

Maybe I'm just being pessimistic. I hope that the writers actually have them communicate properly about this time. Like they should both be honest (an important aspect of healthy relationships), to build clarity and to avoid confusion. Like the needless drama in NY could have been avoided if Adrien didn't ignore Ladybug and actually TRUSTED her by telling her the truth about him going somewhere instead of complacently lying to her, then losing her trust. Both could have told each other that they are going to NY "for personal reasons" without giving too much detail. To prevent suspicion, the writers could have included the American superheroes hosting an event inviting them or asking for their help to defeat that Micromonster guy. LB and CN could have both then collectively made a decision that if anything were to go wrong in Paris, they could quickly use the Horse Miraculous to transport to France in time (like Marinette was advised to do in "Startrain") or use the Rabbit Miraculous to travel back in time/manipulate events. There was no need to make Marinette suffer for the sake of needless lovesquare drama.

However, I love the animation for the special. It is mesmerising and beauitful and the graphics look superb. The atmosphere looks so clean and the nature-aspects (Hawk Moth's hideout) are intricately detailed. The lighting also complements the charactrrs and the settings' colours. A huge round of applause to SAMG for their excellant hardwork for animating this special despite the pandemic!

If you have any worries about the special, free free to do so! I want to conclude my message by thanking you so much for being such a lovely, kind, confident and resilient person. You always confidently express your opinions and strcture your essays clearly and legibly. I always look forward to reading your posts. I know I can always count on you to express our frustrations with the show's writing on our behalf and speak up for Marinette's mistreatment and inustice! 😊

Firstly, thank you! I gotta defend Marinette because we know the show won’t!

Anyway, I agree with basically everything you said. My biggest comments on it are like--

- I’m already tired of places just being used as set pieces for specials. I actually have a history of disliking specials/movies for shows because its purposes is usually just to get people hyped up, but that means big plots with big stakes and I end up thinking, “okay, but why can’t we have that in the show?” That’s always the issue I take with it; movies/specials prove that they can come up with high stakes plots, but we can’t have equivalents in the show because...?

- I officially tune out now anytime Marinette’s crush on Adrien is mentioned. It gets tiring and it just makes me feel bad for her and simultaneously angry at the writers for treating her this way. Add that onto the “Marinette always makes mistakes” rule and it’s clear that they’re creatively bankrupt and needlessly restrict themselves for the sake of making Marinette suffer. I’m just insulted that Gabriel is going to Shanghai for his fashion business but Marinette being into fashion is ignored.

- The animation is nice but whenever I see it, I’m reminded that we couldn’t have much SAMG in Season 4+5 because they were busy working on the special. The show should always take priority over some lame special/movies. I won’t judge the special for it but I’m salty about it regardless.

[thecomposerofstories]

Information on Amy.

(Be warned it's a ~little bit~ long, any other pieces of information you want to know I'll gladly answer if you ask.)

~General Information~

Fandom: Toy Story.

Name: Amy the Ragdoll.

Nickname, if any: Amy, Ames, and Doll-Face(usually by more villainous characters or used in a joking manner).

Gender: Female.

Sexuality: ??? (I mean I know the gender of who she has a crush on, but I'm unsure on what her actual sexuality should be tbh)

Age: Mentally, mid-twenties in the first story second movie, thirties to forties in the third and fourth. Physically, she doesn’t have an age, but in regards to when she was made (the 1950’s) makes her fifty to sixty.

City they currently live in: San Francisco, apparently that’s where Toy Story takes place.

Any pets: Would Rex count? He just follows her around like a nervous puppy.

Current occupation: I mean she’s practically a therapist, but she’s a toy and she only treats Rex so it probably doesn’t count lol

~Physical Appearance~

Height: 10 inches.

Body type: Stocky, but a bit gangly too, similar to Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Eye colour: Black.

Skin tone: Light.

Clothing style: Pale green/turquoise shirt with short puffed sleeves, with a denim dungaree dress with a daisy print in the centre over it. She wears yellow rain boots.

Hairstyle: No style, it’s just there. It’s messy and gets in her face easily and is made out of dark brown thin string.

~Speech/Language/Communication~

Amy speaks quietly and politely, rambles a bit if left without a reply or under pressure, very nervous in front of intimidating characters.

First language: English.

Learned languages: A bit of Spanish (Ya’ll remember Toy Story 3!)

Accent: American.

Pitch of voice: High, but soft, not quite annoying, unless she’s stressed, then it gets very pitchy and shrill.

~Behaviour/Habits~

Amy tends to just stand there when she can’t find anything to do, and will immediately try to find Rex, Hamm, Buzz or Jessie if surrounded by strangers (Though she’s not sure if it’s for their comfort or her own) Amy is very polite.

Spending habits: She doesn’t like to be made a fuss of at all, the very fact of someone giving something to her is unnerving (even if the thing never costed anything at all) and she feels compelled to give the giver something in return.

Morning routine: She gets up same time as the others, but wishes she could stay in bed a bit longer though. Before she came to Andy’s room, her sleep pattern was all over the place.

Bedtime routine: Similar to above, now she goes to bed the same time as the others, but before she just slept and got up willy-nilly.

Nervous habits: Amy will try to find Rex if she’s nervous, and she’ll pretend it’s because she’s worried for him, which is quite true, but she also just feels most safe with him. Speaking of, Amy will let Rex hold her hand and squish it whenever he or Amy is nervous, it’s calming to the both of them.

Bad habits: Not a very good exerciser, but then again, she’s spend basically half her life in a small attic, so I’ll give her a break.

Skills/talents: She’ very logical, mind-over-matter, (mostly, very good at calming others down and/or convincing them. She’s very good at spelling and knows quite a lot of words, some of which others haven’t even heard of.

Hobbies: Reading, talking (especially with Rex, Jessie or Hamm), and generally just lazing about or walking around somewhere, on her own or with a friend.

~The Past~

Amy’s first owner was a little girl called Alice. Alice loved nothing more than to read Amy stories (Mostly fairy tales), but of course, Alice grew up like all kids do, and she left Amy in the attic for someone else to have her.

Amy waited for many years, and all that time she’d never given up that someone would find her.

She thought she’s hit the jackpot when Andy and his family move into Alice’s old house, but they don’t go up into the attic to collect her. Some weeks later, though, Andy’s mother brings a set of boxes filled with junk into the attic and leaves. Woody, Buzz, Slinky, and Rex were trapped in one of the boxes (Call me a cheater but this part was actually inspired by a Toy Story comic, where those four toys get stuck in the attic that way and have to escape. It struck me odd that they never met at least one new friend there, so I made one. It was also my first story, I needed some inspiration!)

Amy, in a fit of panic, goes and hides.

But then she’s found by Rex as he and the others try to find a way out.

They then decide to let the strange, dust-covered ragdoll come back to Andy’s rom with them. (well, Rex did, anyway.)

Home town: Would Alice’s old room count? But it’s now Andy’s Room, so it won’t count will it?

Happy or sad childhood: Pretty normal to be honest, as normal a life as a toy could have anyway. And as for sadness, having spent all that time on her own for all those years, having missed out on so much, is a little sad. But Amy made sure she never became bitter over it or used it as an excuse for anything.

Earliest memory: Waking up in her toy store, with a friend of hers for company (a ragdoll Prospector, a much as she remembers) and as she gets bought by Alice’s Auntie, she says she hopes he gets picked up by a kid. (Unbeknownst to her, she would meet him again in a while to find out he never got to experience it)

Saddest memory: One, being left by Alice, yet being so happy for her and how much she’s grown up, if she could cry tears of joy for her owner, she would. Two, some (or most) of the days she spent waiting for a new owner to arrive. And three, watching Rex have a mental breakdown of anxiety.

Happiest memory: One, the time she and Alice went to the park, (Amy absolutely adores nature) Two after sliding down a drainpipe to get to Andy’s room, and three, having known she’d helped her friend out.

Significant events: Being bought, being left in an attic, being rescued from the attic, while gaining some new friends.

~Family~

The entirety of Andy’s room, whether they like it or not, they’re all in this together and are some kind of mish-mash, found family in a sense.

Siblings: I’ve been thinking of giving Amy a brother (since I based her on Raggedy Ann, a matching bootleg Raggedy Andy seems reasonable) bur I’m unsure about it, since I’ve already mapped out Amy’s entire series of stories (Around six or seven all together, so far I’m currently writing only the third) and I can only fit him in the fifth or sixth if I can.

~Relationships~

Romantically? I’d like to say she has a crush on Rex, I don’t know why I thought of it, I was contemplating it one day as I sketched a rough (and terrible) sketch of her, and I drew Rex too because he’s just so fun to draw and I wanted to make a scale for Amy’s size, and one of my friends (who had been watching me) immediately said “I ship it!” and well, the rest is history, I made the decision to ship it too.

Friends: Jessie, Hamm, Buzz, and Rex are her closet friends, but she’d like to say that all the Gang are her friends. Later on she becomes good friends with Mr. Prickle Pants, Buttercup, Trixie and Totoro, and she absolutely loves the peas and Forky.

Best friend(s): Hamm, Mr. Prickle Pants, Jessie, and Rex.

What do people like about them? Amy’s pretty easy to talk to, she’s polite and attentive and will sit in companionable silence with someone if they need it. But she won’t hesitate to give hard truths and advice if it’s needed.

What do people dislike about them? Amy is quite a doormat, if someone is rude to her or breaches anything she just lets it happen, and sometimes she’s too indecisive about her own stuff, unsure whether she’s going to offend others or not over the smallest things, which annoys others quite a bit.

~Mentality/Personal Beliefs~

Amy is a toy of logic, and though she believes others can do it if they set their minds to it, she doesn’t quite believe in herself. She believes she must follow the rules of being a toy at all times, no matter what.

Phobias: Dust. She hates it. It took a good five weeks to brush all the dust out her hair and clothes, and even so there’s still some in her pockets and places she can’t reach. And being alone, too. Now she can’t be alone for more than an hour before she starts to get antsy and nervous. And for a short time books gave her a strange tiredness, after reading them for so long and for so many years she couldn’t even stand the sight of them.

But of course, not for long, since Amy found out Andy had a copy of Red’s Dream by a Mr. William Reeves.

Optimist or pessimist: Depends on the situation really, if her mind can’t come up with a solution, then there’s no point in trying anymore. Unless someone else can think of something, that is.

Personal philosophies: “You are here to make good things happen. No person here is made for one reason only, or even only one. There’s no point in pretending to be someone you’re not just for the attention of others, no matter how cool they are. We should find are own meaning, as we’re the only ones who have control of it.

It’ll take a while, but I swear, it’ll be worth it.”

Biggest dream/wish: Amy wants nothing more than to find meaning for herself, but finds it rather hard to do so. Of course, that doesn’t mean she’ll settle for someone else’s meaning. As cheesy as it sounds, she just wants an adventure. She doesn’t necessarily want to be the hero, though, she’s just happy to go along with the ride so long as it gets her out the house for a few hours. She also, above all else, wants Rex to find meaning too, even if she never does, it would be nice to know that he had.

Greatest strength(s): Persuasion, story-telling, logic, and good grammar.

Biggest flaw: Despite being a ragdoll, Amy can’t sew because of her fingerless hands, which are just soft mittens in shape. Amy is also quite a doormat, as I said before, so if her calm persuasion and reasoning doesn’t work, she’s left to be walked all over.

Regrets: Staying in that dratted attic too long, the window was open, she could’ve just climbed out, but no, she had to stay there for some mind-rotting decades. But if she had just escaped, she would never have met her new friends. Amy just wishes she had met them a lot sooner.

Achievements: Escaped the attic, slid down a drainpipe, leapt onto the windowsill (though nearly knocking Woody and Buzz over in the process) stopped her friend from having a panic attack, and managed to remember the entire Dictionary and is able to recite it down from A to Z, and even Z to A.

Secrets: Not much, just strange feelings for one of her friends, but it’s not much of a secret, Bo knows, and Mr. Potato Head and Hamm could see it from a mile away, and the others have their suspicions.

Goals: Read the entirety of Andy’s (and later Bonnie’s) bookshelves, become more confident in herself, have her own book-worthy adventure, and figure out what those strange feelings for her friend is.

~Likes/Favourites~

Favourite colour: Even before meeting Rex, Amy’s favourite colour was always green. Every time Alice had taken her to the park, Amy adored watching the sunlight pour through the leaves with a golden-green glow.

Favourite book(s): Because it’s sentimental to her, being her owner’s favourites, she loves Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Peter Pan, and The Wizard of Oz. They all hold similar plots (a little girl in a blue dress goes to a fantasy land, has a few adventures, and then leaves said fantasy land to go home to her family and responsibilities) but it reminds Amy of her old owner Alice (who was actually named after Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland) and their playtimes together.

Favourite Book Quotation(s):

“Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.”

“There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is facing danger when you are afraid.”

Favourite movie: Amy does much prefer books, since they allow her to imagine the setting and characters in her own way, but doesn’t mind movies, and isn’t picky on what they watch, though she does quite like horror films.

Favourite song: Amy likes any kind of music, new or old.

Favourite game: Amy never really cared for games, the competitiveness always bothered her and stressed her out. But she’s more than happy to watch Rex play his video games and cheer him on.

~Relationships with other characters~

~Rex~

- Hit it off pretty quickly.

- Amy helps him with his anxiety, and helps him find confidence in himself, she acts as a certain therapist to him.

- Both become very stressed without the other around.

- Rex will hold and knead at Amy’s hands sometimes; it calms him down.

- Rex will let Amy ride on his back if she’s tired or needs to see something (Because she’s so short).

- One of them can basically be talking about the most boring-est things ever, yet still the other will hang on to their every word.

~Jessie~

- Became friends pretty quickly.

- Will drag Amy along anywhere.

- Get along fairly well.

- Jessie does the talking and Amy does the planning.

- Jessie always pranks the other toys and makes Amy tag along (along with Hamm).

- Introvert/Extrovert dynamic for sure.

- Both were left in alone for years so like to find solace in each other.

~Hamm~

- Hamm begrudgingly warmed up to the timorous ragdoll.

- Surprisingly good pals.

- Have full conversations without saying anything.

- Like to sit and look out of the window together.

- Hamm makes Amy laugh when she really shouldn’t (mainly when he makes fun of the other toys, mainly Woody).

- Hamm makes fun of Amy having a crush on Rex every once in a while, though he doesn’t mean any harm.

~The Potato Heads~

- Mr. doesn’t really interact with Amy much, but finds her surprisingly tolerable, if a bit high-strung and annoying.

- Like Hamm, Mr. makes Amy laugh at the most wrong moments.

- She and Mrs. Are quite good friends, and she sometimes lets Amy take care of the aliens if she and her husband are busy.

~Woody~

- Are aquianteces.

- Don’t exactly interact much, even though the whole room practically revolves around him, in Amy’s opinion, though she would never say it to his face.

~Buzz~

- Amy thinks he’s super cool (then again, he is Buzz Lightyear, he practically invented coolness)

- Both are just as clueless as one another when it comes to social cues and interactions.

- Amy helps him with vocabulary and spelling every once in a while.

~Mr. Prickle Pants~

- Are absolute BFF’s.

- Go back and forth with book quotes to the point of driving the other toys insane.

~Bo Peep~

- Amy's not exactly sure if Bo has befriended her or not.

- (She has)

- They later become good friends.

- Amy misses their talks, Bo was one of the only toys she could talk to that could keep a secret.

[pakchoys]

rank the new who doctors?

i would very much like to YAY thank u!!! i’m gonna uh.... ramble. because i am excited to be asked. my personal list don’t take it too seriously

1. capaldi. i love him So Much. it breaks my heart so many ppl gave up before his run, or while it was still in its early stages. among dw fans who still watch the show he’s generally already considered an iconic doctor. you hear a lot of people saying they regret not appreciating him until he was gone which i 100% feel. he was a who fan his entire life (the fanmail he wrote as a teen is so cute) and he poured so much love into the role!!! maybe didn’t have the best writing at the start but he more than makes up for it with his fucking phenomenal acting ability and pure LOVE for the doctor’s character! his arc too is the most touching for me.... he’s the doctor who finally heals. he starts off so jaded and almost seems cruel. i think that’s why so many people were turned off from him initially. but, after watching his entire run, you realise that was set up for a masterful arc abt healing and kindness and learning to laugh again. the pure love between him and bill, his unrelenting faith in missy..... “laugh hard, run fast, be kind” is the best fucking dw quote don’t even LOOK at me

2. tennant. sad man runs around being sad, stands in rain, grieves over all that genocide he committed, generally looks like a kicked puppy at every given chance. we love to see it! his relationships with his companions make him so damn real, maybe the realest of all the new who doctors. i love him dearly. my favourite thing about him is that he does have terrible moments of arrogance and they’re called out and his arc is about acknowledging that he’s not all-powerful (waters of mars i loooove yoooouuu). i love to make fun of him and i also want to hug him

3. smith. funny, tumblr hates him lmao. most people i ask irl here in br*tain will either say tennant or smith as their fave in a 50/50 split (maybe favouring tennant slightly). matt was the first doctor that made me want to watch the show, age 7 and sitting down for his first ever ep :’) so he’s special to me i can’t help it!!! his first series, s5, is the most cohesive series in the whole of new who imo. it’s the series i always rec to ppl who wanna start the show bc it knows what it wants to do and generally all the episodes are mid to high tier doctor who (except the winston churchill daleks one, good fucking god). when i learnt that tennant is “the man who regrets” while smith is “the man who forgets” it helped me understand him much better.... he desperately wants to bury that past but he can’t run forever. his final episodes lose it a bit but i don’t think he deserves the distaste so many on here seem to have for him. his writing suffers from feeling a bit contrived so that’s probably part of it

4. eccelston. important thing to keep in mind is that he got only one series and in that time he made such an impression as his own doctor!!! if he had more time he’d probably be higher on my list. “just this once, everybody lives” stays in my mind RENT FREE... it sums up how painfully tired he is—the post-time war doctor, fresh with hopelessness and loss and he’s so elated to save everyone, just once, even if it never ever happens again. his hearts are so big and so are his ears :]

5. whittaker. she’s on the bottom of my list but that doesn’t mean i dislike her! i love her, actually! her first series however is the worst in the whole of new who because of its disaster writing, imo. worse than series 7, yes, bc at least series 7 had some fun episodes at the start. i seriously don’t believe that chibnall has a vision for the show, just a mish-mash of done before ideas he doesn’t know how to string together into a plot or characters that actually feel like family. but enough of chibnall, whittaker is so FUN as the doctor!!! she’s everything i wanted from a post-capaldi doctor, who ended his run choosing to be kind. whittaker continues that legacy by smiling and being a Literal Ball of Sunshine <333 although i was worried at first she wouldn’t get much depth beyond that, series 12 made my desire for her as the certified repression doctor CANON!!!! i have my issues with s12 but im so so excited for the upcoming series!

[seeneverything]

today i decided to replay nick’s dlc! not only to catch back up and remain canon, but to look into his journals and the notes / environment around a little deeper to see if i can discover anything more about him, the game’s story, and the timeline of the game.

i have to say it somewhat surprised me that nick has handwriting that’s legible. i figured it would be similar to sally’s -- very here and there with hardly any grammar, punctuation, and horrendous spelling. yet nick’s journals though brief, are quite linguistic. a pleasant surprise.

but without further ado, my metas are under the cut! a very long read so i hope you enjoy it. i tried my best to divide it into some sort of organization as i could. <3

GENERAL LORE :

ever wondered what an original joy bottle looks like? well, nick has one.

it’s tucked in the far back in his kitchen, behind a light on his shelf. initially i thought it was some random drug and it was more proof of the dlc being pre-game. but if you look closer, the words underneath wellington wells’ emblem say  “EVERY DAY, JOIN THE FUN”  which is a clear indication of what it actually was. and beside the emblem, just to the right, if you really squint, it says  “FLAVOR:”  but it’s hidden and you can’t sneak around to the other side. however, considering how old it is, especially from the wear and tear on the sticker, one could probably imagine it being haworth’s own vanilla.

which intrigues me. i wouldn’t doubt that nick was one of the very first people who got the initial batches. virgil dainty found him when he was still a young poet in his teenage years. meaning he probably snatched him when he was around 16. if we play it out like he was 16 when the train came and took all 13 and under, nick would be around 32 during the base game. but i honestly doubt that since the make believes released more singles than albums, and they released the album around the time of strawberry’s release, as inferred by the cover of the album. so for now and to me, nick is somewhere between mid-late 30s.

speaking of joy though, does anyone remember the whole debate about the type of joy nick was taking in the dlc? it wasn’t any type at all. in fact, it was something sally made herself.

“Vibing my guitar always helps me remember things. Like where I put my Sally Specials.”

Those reds and yellows are just another one of the many street drugs that Sally sells to her clients. Probably something like rainbow and the like, but much, much weaker and not as long-lasting. After all, Nick has to take five at one time to black out. Probably at least three of them to feel any sort of a buzz at all.   ( as a side note, it personally makes me wonder if sally had anything to do with the production phlash. i’d love to see if there were any notes of it anywhere. )

I had a headcanon a while back that the woman using the power cell was using a sex toy. After all, she has a suitcase that’s cleverly hidden under her bed. If Nick believes it’s this, it makes sense that he’s aware of the “fun part of town,” unlike Arthur and Ollie once in the Parade. Yes, he goes there for sex and relief, but also because he makes deals with the owners to sell adult-themed merch. Wouldn’t be surprised if there were dildos, lube, even lingerie like Nick’s threads -- very, very plausible if there are full sex dolls.

With the Sally Specials and the Joy Bottle being so old, it could still be proof that it’s pre-game as well. After all, if Nick is still around Sally ONLY to obtain to drugs from her, then it could be easily inferred. After all, Sally remembers her time with Nick in the past together, not in the present. And that is pre-1964.

A LITTLE MORE ABOUT NICKY :

it’s absolutely no secret that nick hates himself. from the scratches on the mirror that hide his face and spell  “USELESS,”  to the inferred suicidal attempts from downing entire bottles of joy with alcohol. the puke is always so rancid in the sink. but there’s also this, too.

it’s funny how nick tends to keep scratching at his head and his eyes. the persona is who he’s trying to cover up i imagine, considering that there are multiple voicelines in the game that says he never meant to cause any harm. and he never meant to commit all the unpleasantries that come with being a rockstar. one of them being infidelity and adultery, and another being a general asshole to the public. overtime i believed that nick gained celebrity syndrome. which is essentially just being a karen on steroids. nick believes he doesn’t need to pay for anything, and he also has the innate ability to give orders to people. just because, in his mind, he’s the best in the world. the avalon’s manager wants to get back at him once and for all for his bossy attitude. but he’s not the only one who feels that, either.

petunia does as well.

nick’s love-life is an extremely complicated one. aside from the the various forms of substance abuse and exposure to said substances, nick has always had his rockstardom become the center of his universe. see, this is all headcanon but, i personally believe that nick was coddled as a child by his overbearing mother. mama told him the world would love him. and mama told him that the world would never hurt him, and that it would be perfect and easy to get through. but then he saw just how hurtful people could be, and just how much hate the world had to offer. and to him, at that. it was extremely difficult to find love in anything and anyone. especially himself. so finding petunia was very, very reassuring. after all, she did promise him, as nick said during the boss fight, to be the lighthouse on all his rocky shores. indicating that she would be the one to lead him back home, and make him stable. and i’m sure for a while, it did.

canonically, until nick lightbearer overtook norbert pickles. he found so many more people who loved him that way. and thus, he let the life of his own stardom take over everything else. including his love life. even more so when the birds threatened hatred and slander to his name if they couldn’t shag him. and if they didn’t manipulate him, nick was so afraid of losing another fan that he wouldn’t care. it felt good anyway, why not fuck people? he keeps a fan, doesn’t worry about being hated, and keeps the life of love toward him going.

not even thinking about petunia in the process. and instead of showing him that he didn’t need all the fans, instead of showing him that he needed to remain faithful and loyal, she lashed out and belittled him from every other corner. though he did deserve it for encouraging her into polygamy and bigamy and definitely by his demanding attitude(later in the note it mentions how he was a henpicker), she did not help his mental state in any capacity. petunia, the moment she didn’t help him anymore and show him the love he thought she promised him, became nothing more than someone who belittled him. truthfully nick never meant to hurt her, but it’s seen through his celebrity ideology that he truly believes in quantity over quality. a sad shame. nick’s mental state is so fucked he doesn’t even really know what true love is by this point. meaning he could potentially be easily manipulated without realization.

despite all this though, i found this to be especially intriguing:

a little hard to read, but this is during the scene before he fights the fans at the contest. his journal reads:

“They think I’m an IMPERSONATOR? Have I lost the Lightbearer aura? How much lower can I sink?”

this heavily implies that nick sets his own idolism over his chances of being a murderer. meaning that somewhere, deep in the crevasse of his subconscious, nick is so desperate for some true love and still can’t grasp hatred that he is clinging onto his persona for as much love as he can. even if it’s fake. thrice as intriguing when one learns that, during his breakdowns, he always explains how he wants his fans to know who he really is:

“i wonder if i remember how to sound polite,” “things are sure to look up once i’m not soaked in hemoglobin.”

an intelligent, young man who was so wrongly brought up into the world by an attached mother who never taught him what punishment really was. nick has been using his celebrity name as a clutch for so long that he’s having difficulty remembering who he really was, or if he can ever be norbert pickles again. he cannot handle being a celebrity, and he never could because of what his mother taught him and grew him to be. yet somewhere deep down, he knows his true self is there. but what nick doesn’t know how to do is accept the hatred of the world enough, especially to him, in order to ever take norbert pickles out.

it’s a constant mish-mash. he can hardly handle the hatred from being a celebrity, but what he does handle from stardom is what keeps him going with it. a war between nick lightbearer and norbert pickles. but neither side has proper ammo because the battlefield is strife with a lack of vegetation.

nick lightbearer in himself is an irony. he shines so bright for everyone around him but yet truly, the light is most needed for himself.

[varian-and-the-seven-skies]

Cor Meum | Chapter Two: Pieces Set, Start

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.

Notes: Thanks so much for all your guys’ support for this new fic! Your comments were a joy to read, and we’re so excited that you guys are excited! We have a whole lot in store for y’all— we hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: There is mild reference to implied child abuse—nothing explicit or graphic, but please be wary! If there’s anything in this chapter you think we missed, let us know and we’ll add the warning up here.

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AO3 Link is here!

Fic Playlist can be found here!

Chapter One can be found here!

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Chapter Two: Pieces Set, Start

. . .

Standing in the burning midday sun, hand half-shading his eyes, Hugo stares up into the shadow of the Aphelion and thinks: This is too easy.

He almost feels bad about it, honestly. Like stealing candy from a kid—not that it’s going to stop Hugo from robbing them blind, blah blah blah should have held onto it better—but still. The fact remains that this will be painfully easy. It’s been maybe two hours since he set foot in Corona, and he’s already been hired and secured a place on the ship. Fastest infiltration he’s ever done.

“She’s perfect,” he says, with a smile that maybe shows a bit too much teeth. Oh, well. Hugo’s probably fine. What does this kid—Var-something, Varitas, Varian?—know of threats and dangers anyway? The cotton-weave shirt, the brass cuff bracers, the worn work-pants and even the shine of his boots; given all that plus the oil and grease streaking his face, and the way he barely even notices, Hugo is almost positive that this kid has never even stepped three feet outside of a workroom.

Hugo doesn’t have a good opinion of this kid’s instincts, either. After all, it’s taken everything Hugo has not to laugh in his face from the moment he got hired, pint-size here being his new ‘boss’ or no, and the other teen hasn’t even noticed.

“So?” Hugo says. “Do I get the grand tour?”

Varian (Hugo is, like, 85% sure it’s Varian) doesn’t react. He seems distracted, staring hard at the ground with a furrow to his brow. He jumps at the sound of Hugo’s voice, and shakes his head hard as if to chase away his own thoughts. At his feet, that creepy little rodent automaton chases circles around them. “What? Oh. Um, yeah. If you want.” He gestures, listless. “It’s, uh… just up the ramp.”

Hugo eyes him, just a bit—where’d the fire go? The sass? The really annoying attitude?—but he doesn’t actually care, in hindsight, so he shrugs and dismisses it, heading up for the ship ramp. The closer he gets, the more impressive the ship looks: Hugo hadn’t been lying, at least, when he’d called her perfect. She’s a mish-mash of colorful cloth-weave and metalwork, and even from here Hugo can tell she’s a labor of love. The Aphelion is… beautiful isn’t a strong enough word for what she is. Stunning, maybe. Ethereal is closer. He can’t even imagine what the work inside looks like. What sort of pipe system do they use? What model are the engines?

By the Maker, Hugo is almost excited.

He just barely keeps from bouncing on his feet—he’s not a child, he knows how to control himself—and when he reaches the deck, he takes a moment to step out and turn around, taking it all in. It's huge, wide open and two-tiered, with heavy metal chains and cables of thick braided wire trailing up to the sails and envelope high above. The railing is a mix of shiny brass and dark, reddish wood; the whole deck is varnished with a nice coat of gloss that keeps the wooden planks waterproofed even through the heaviest of storms. Hugo slams his foot down, just to be sure, and—yep. That heavy thunk tells him all he needs to know. No leaky roofs on this ship, no sir.

Gods above, she’s fucking gorgeous. Hugo might be a little bit starstruck.

“Where to first?” he calls back, still staring up at the sails. Is that embroidery? Holy shit, it totally is. This ship is ridiculous, and Hugo hasn’t even seen the inside yet. “Engines? Captain’s quarters?” A thought strikes him. He keeps his voice casual. “Cargo hold?”

He can hear Varian step up behind him, still quiet. “Well,” the other says, a little dryly. He holds out one arm, and that raccoon automaton of his runs one last time around his feet and then jumps up on his shoulder. Varian rubs at its ears. “I have to find Yong, and you’re stuck with me, so… probably going to start with the library and work our way from there.”

Hugo clicks his tongue, disappointed, but knows better than to argue. He’ll see it all eventually, he knows, and has to bite back another mean smile at the thought. When Varian makes his way for a massive door of intricate iron,Hugo follows him.

“Yong,” he echoes to himself. “Assistant to engine-man, right?”

“Xavier.” Varian looks up at him, half-hidden in the shadows of the sails, his eyes flashing bright and burning. “Yong is— fire prone, so it works out pretty well for him. You’ll see.” He scowls. “And learn people’s names, would you?”

“Hm.” Hugo makes a show of thinking about it. Leans back on his heels, resting his chin in his hands, humming—and then grins. “No.”

“You—!”

“Varian!”

Varian’s eyes snap away from Hugo, and he’s almost sad to see them go. Hugo looks towards where the voice had come from, seeing a younger teenager standing in front of them with her hands on her hips. She’s tall, taller than Varian even which is hilarious. Her curly black hair ripples in the gentle breeze of the dockyard, pulled up in a perfect little up-do that Hugo can already tell takes her way too long in the morning to perfect. She’s got dark skin and amber eyes, and she’s fixing them both with a scrutinizing look, mouth pulling into a low frown when she notices Hugo. She’s wearing a purple tunic cinched tight around her waist by multiple brass-buckle belts, a sash of dark brown silk tied overtop, and dark leggings that look almost black in the sunlight. Her little heeled boots are purple as well—Hugo can sense a bit of a theme with her—and they click against the polished deck as she impatiently taps her foot.

“Nuru!” Varian says, ignoring her pointed glare. “Haven’t seen Yong by any chance, have you?”

“Afraid not,” she says, eyes flicking from Varian to Hugo. Hugo can’t help but feel the need to size her up, maybe due to the suspicious look in her amber eyes. It’s obvious she doesn’t trust him; if Hugo wasn’t absolutely certain his true identity was still secret he might even feel nervous. Ah, well— something to work on.

She finally tears her gaze away from scrutinizing Hugo, looking to Varian once again. “Why, are you looking for him?”

“Xavier is—” Varian shrugs. That creepy little automaton on his shoulder makes a mechanical chitter, a puff of steam fluffing out from between the mismatched plating making up its body. Varian doesn’t acknowledge it, his voice strong over the steam. “—and I’m giving our new junior engineer here a quick tour while I look for him.”

The title boils Hugo’s blood, it really does, especially in the self-satisfied way Varian says it. It’s like an insult, this idea that this pipsqueak is suddenly better just because he has some fancy position handed to him by his beloved Captain. As if that makes the fact that Hugo is older, smarter, and better than him null and void. Honestly, infuriating, but Hugo grits his teeth and bears it. Once this is over, once the target’s acquired and the money’s made, Hugo’ll just pitch the annoying little shit off the edge of the ship and watch him fall. It’ll be like a present to himself, a reward for a heist well heist-ed.

Hugo’s so wrapped up in the delightful image of Varian screaming as he’s tossed over the rails of the top deck, he nearly misses the conversation continuing on in front of him.

“Are you going to introduce us, then?” Nuru says primly. Her glare flicks back to Hugo, who straightens his spine a little under the scrutiny. Something in her makes Hugo wary; he’ll have to keep an eye on her.

“Oh!” Varian shakes his head. “Duh, obviously. Nuru, this is Hugo, Rapunzel’s new hire for the junior engineer position.” At least this time Varian doesn’t say the title in a way that makes Hugo want to punch him. “Hugo, this is Nuru, our assistant navigator. She’s usually up on the bridge, but you’ll see her around. Aphelion isn’t that big a ship, after all.”

Understatement of the year, really. The Aphelion is minuscule when compared to basically every other ship in port. Just a tiny trading ship, small and unassuming. Kinda like the brat who built it, Hugo snickers to himself. She might be a well made, ethereally stunning machine, but she’s small. Fast too, from what Hugo’s heard. Fast enough to outrun a band of pirates, even—

“A pleasure.” Nuru’s nose wrinkles in a way that makes it obvious this is anything but. Hugo schools his face into a delighted—it’s always so much fun making new friends—and locks eyes with her in a challenge.

“I’m sure it is,” Hugo smirks. Nuru doesn’t back down, the two of them glaring over Varian’s head. From the corner of his eye, he can see Varian scowl at being ignored, before the younger boy bodily shoves his way between them.

“Okay, enough of that,” Varian says, putting a hand out to either side, pushing Hugo and Nuru apart. “We’re all going to have to get along if we’re going to be stuck together for six months, right? Can we at least try to be civil?”

Hugo wants to retort with the obvious fact that Varian has been nothing but borderline hostile since they met, but Nuru speaks before he can, taking the stage with ease. She nods once, and steps back, almost diplomatic.

“Of course,” she says, giving Hugo one last once-over before turning back to Varian. “Have you tried the dining hall for Yong yet? Lance said he was making ginger molasses cookies, and I think Eugene was trying to rope some people into helping him steal some.”

Varian nods in thought, already moving forward. “Good enough place to start, I suppose.” He gestures for Hugo to follow, and they walk together across the polished deck of the ship, towards the back end where a large portion of the deck raises up into a second level. A large door of iron and brass stands centered on the wall, twin staircases spiraling up on either side. It’s embossed with faint carvings, suns and moons and the occasional star, all winding around a large, interlocking wheel made of solid brass in the very center. The whole thing almost looks like a square bank vault door. It’s certainly over the top, in Hugo’s humble opinion, but it’s also becoming increasingly obvious that the Aphelion, and the crew that sails her, are decidedly over the top in basically everything they do.

Ruddiger slips off Varian’s shoulders, the little automaton chittering in excitement as it hits the polished deck. The raccoon is gone in a second, scaling up one of the large chains with its weird little metal claws. It looks down on them with neon green eyes, the aperture clicking open and closed as if it were blinking. By the Maker that thing’s creepy; Hugo hates it on principle.

Varian grunts as he grabs the wheel, turning it with no small amount of effort. The spinning wheel retracts a series of pistons, a small plume of steam puffing out as the door swings open, revealing a long hallway made of the same polished wood as the deck. Large copper lights line the hallway, emitting a cheery glow that bounces off the glittering pipes of metal tucked away near the ceiling, running through the Aphelion like veins through a body. Hugo could almost call it homey, dare he say quaint, with a maroon carpet running down the length of the floor, and redwood walls lined with strips of warm brass.

It seems Aphelion is just as immaculate on the inside as she is on the outside. Hugo can’t help but grin. There’s nothing better than a ship that’s obviously been loved from her very conception.

Varian leads him on through the narrow halls, deeper into the labyrinth of the ship, roughly gesturing to the occasional doorway. “Library,” he says, pointing to a set of double doors, not faltering a single step.

“Crow’s nest.” An iron spiral staircase, spinning up into the ceiling above.

“Navigation room,” Nuru butts in, gesturing to another door. Varian smiles at that, nods.

“Navigation room,” he repeats, as they reach the end of the hallway. There’s another door like the one outside, with the same locking mechanism. Varian turns that one as well, and the first thing Hugo registers when the door opens is heat. Both Nuru and Varian continue like there’s nothing wrong, Hugo forced to follow or else get left behind. Through the door lies a metal catwalk, level with the wooden floor. 

The ground, however, dips right away, the catwalk hovering at least three stories high as it crosses the length of the large room. In the very center is a large main engine, quiet for now, but Hugo knows that once Aphelion takes flight it’ll be near deafening. It’s so big Hugo has to crane back his neck to see the top of it, surrounded by a string of metal scaffolding, catwalks and ladders and stairs, an intricate mess of pathways. The heart of the Aphelion is a large monstrosity of iron and brass, a mess of metal panels and pipes, dials and gauges, all covered in the slightest sheen of grease. It’s obvious the heart has been well loved, shined clean and immaculate, but she’s a working thing. There’s dust in her corners, grease and oil in all the little nooks and crannies, dents in her panels and places where her casing is mismatched.

She’s the most beautiful thing Hugo’s ever seen.

The room below them is a mess of pipework and wires, weaving down through the many catwalks spider-webbing the large space. They cluster and split at random, and for a second Hugo’s truly shocked. He’s seen main engine rooms before, but never one so… busy. Hugo can’t help but feel awed at seeing an honestly perfect machine, one designed from the ground up with love and dedication.

Varian strides forwards into the room with the confidence of a man three times his age, and Hugo follows slowly, almost dazed.

“Main engine room,” Varian says with an air of pride, his voice echoing against the metal walls.

Hugo finds himself following in their footsteps, sandwiched between Varian and Nuru. He doesn’t get the time he’d like to stand and stare; the tour must go on, it seems. The engine block is in the direct middle of the Aphelion, from the looks of it. Across the catwalk they go through another iron door and Hugo once again finds himself surrounded by wood panels and vaulted ceilings. It’s almost like most of the living quarters surround the engine block in a ring, an odd design for a ship. Usually engines get tucked away in the back, closest to the rudder and turbines, hidden from sight. In Aphelion, her beating heart is on display like a piece of art.

Hugo’s sad to see it go, but he knows he’ll be elbow deep in the guts of that machine soon enough. The thought is enough to tide him over, as they continue Varian’s tour.

“Cassandra’s office, for the sky guard,” Varian says, passing a large wooden door. Ah, they’re back to the list. “By invitation only.” There’s a few marks that could only be made by throwing knives that are deep in the wood. Hugo thinks that maybe it would be a good idea to avoid that particular door as they move on.

Finally they get to the end of the hall, and Hugo knows they must have walked the majority of the ship’s length by this point. They come to the final set of doors, a double wide pair of solid redwood with intricate hand-painted flowers decorating the woodwork. There’s the sound of clinking kitchenware from inside, muffled but distinct.

“Dining hall,” Varian says, with a sense of finality.

Varian pushes the door open without preamble, gesturing for the other two to follow. Nuru does so without question, and Hugo follows only a step behind. Always good to know where the food comes from, after all. Beyond the door is a large room, decorated in the same style as the rest of the living quarters of the ship; large redwood panels of wood and perfectly polished floors. A large rectangular table takes up half the space, and Hugo can count almost thirty chairs surrounding it. Small ship, small crew, Hugo supposes, though really why anyone would want to eat with their crewmates, he has no idea.

The whole back wall of the room is made of windows, from floor to ceiling. The sunset is just beginning, painting the sky a bright, cheery cherry color. Red sky at night, Hugo thinks to himself, watching as the sunset plays off the brass panels of the rudder peeking up below the large windows. Varian moves further into the dining hall, peeking over to the other side of the large space.

The other half of the room is a wide open space with couches and side tables, a sitting room of sorts. A large carpet covers the floor there, the mismatched furniture looking well worn but comfortable after years of use; it’s the kind of place where one could sit to read a book and accidentally fall asleep. A large galley window is beyond that, embedded into the wall. Hugo can see the kitchen through it, the sounds of clattering pots and pans coming from within. He logs that information for later, just in case.

Large pillars of iron support the high ceiling, the paneling almost seeming to curve, and when Hugo looks straight up he can see a perfect dome of glass in the center of the roof, held up by large iron trusses in the ceiling. The fading sunlight streams through it, bright and cheery, casting the whole room in a warm and reddish glow.

“I guess Yong’s not here,” Varian grumbles, looking around the space with a sigh. “We’ll have to keep— hey!”

Hugo only just sees Varian get tugged behind a couch, the flash of a small hand around his wrist. Nuru lets out a small laugh, gesturing for Hugo to follow as she too disappears behind the ornate velvet backing of the couch. Hugo doesn’t do hiding behind furniture like a child, so instead he opts for leaning over from the side. He bites the inside of his cheek, seeing Varian, Nuru, and a smaller boy all giggling like a bunch of idiots, sitting on the floor without a care.

“Eugene said to wait for the signal,” the boy says, red eyes alight with mischief. “And then I’m supposed to cause a distraction!” With that the kid reaches into his red vest, drawing out—

Holy shit.

“Is that dynamite?” Nuru chokes out. “Yong, we told you after last time that you weren’t allowed that anymore!”

“She’s right,” Varian says, gently taking the dynamite from the kid— Yong? Hugo’s pretty sure this one’s Yong. Little pyro— Hugo likes him already. Everything from the kid’s wide smile to his wild hair, black and nearly standing on its ends as if he’s been caught in an explosion, is eye-catching. He’s short, laughably so, shaped like a little bowling ball with all that baby fat. He can’t be older than fourteen, Hugo thinks— just an infant, really. His big eyes are red too, as vivid and bright as maraschino cherries, an oddity in Hugo’s experience. Hugo’s noticing a trend here: apparently the crew of the Aphelion all seem to be colour-coded. The kid, for example, wears a red vest and pants, only just accented by golden buttons and trim. A white shirt puffs out from under the vest, the sleeves billowing in a way that makes Hugo think it’s a hand-me-down, one the kid’s supposed to grow into. Would make sense, as it’s not like there’s many places to buy clothes for a growing boy while out in the open space between the cities.

Varian’s hands are gentle as he takes the stick of dynamite off the kid, holding it out of reach.

“There are better ways to make a distraction, ” Varian says with a smile, reaching into his tool belt. He pulls out a small, hollow ball of glass, filled to the brim with a glowing green mixture. Yong’s eyes go wide at the sight, his chubby face splitting into a grin. The kid reaches for the ball, but Varian closes his hand around it, snatching it back. “Do you promise to go help Xavier after this?” Varian asks, fixing Yong with a warning look.

The kid nods quickly, making grabby hands towards Varian’s closed fist. “Yeah, of course!”

Varian rolls his eyes, but still hands the glass ball over. Yong snickers in glee as he holds it, the green glow lighting up his face in a way that seems almost manic. Nuru bites her lip like she wants to say something— but sighs, instead, as a quiet whistle echoes through the dining room.

All four heads snap around to look across the room. Hugo raises his eyebrows. Across the dining hall, a man is poking his head up from behind a large, wingback chair made of a dark wood. He’s handsome, Hugo will admit, in a pretty-boy kind of way. He’s got a rogue-ish kind of charm to his face, with large brown eyes and tousled brown hair. And… wait a minute.

His eyes narrow. No, there’s no mistaking him. Hugo knows this one. And how could he not? Everyone in the Seven Skies knows the wild tale of Eugene Fitzherbert, former-pirate turned to a life of good, praised for helping free the lost heir to the City of Corona…

Hugo lip curls at the thought. What a disgrace, really. Flynn Rider had been a legend, the peak of the profession, and he’d thrown it all away for sickly saccharine love.

What a fucking waste.

Eugene brightens when he sees them, probably excited to see more co-conspirators, before his eyes land on Yong. He gives the kid a thumbs up, gesturing towards the window to the kitchen. With a sudden yell, Yong lobs the ball through the window, sending it flying in a perfect arc across the room. Varian tugs Hugo down by his sleeve as it explodes in a shower of smoke and glitter, and three angry voices scream from inside the kitchen. Hugo goes willingly, ducking down behind the couch as a large man comes barreling out of the kitchen through a nearby swinging door.

“My eyes!” he cries, bringing two hands up to his glitter coated face. He’s covered head to toe in green dust and glitter, the colour making him nearly monochrome. He’s big, and Hugo’s suddenly glad he’d followed Varian behind the couch.

The big man isn’t alone. Two small girls, children almost, come sprinting out from the kitchen as well, covered in the same heavy dusting of glitter. The difference being that these two look downright furious, and they’re scanning the room in rage. Hugo shrinks down further behind the couch, just in time for the shorter one’s dark eyes to land on Yong.

Yong pauses, takes in the situation, tilts his head— then straightens, grins, and gives the girl a cheerful wave. “Hi Kiera!”

“Yong!” the girl yells, her black hair flying in a flurry around her face as she charges. The other girl, a redhead, follows right behind her, borderline snarling. Yong takes one look and then yelps, turning tail and sprinting for the double doors leading back to the hall. Hugo presses his back against the back of the couch as Yong bails, the two girls following close behind as they all rush from the room. Yong’s terrified screaming gets distant and small as he tries to escape, the sound getting progressively higher pitched until a sudden series of loud bangs echo through the halls and cut him suddenly and terrifyingly silent.

The large man finally gets the glitters off his face, revealing dark skin and brown eyes. “Girls!” he wails, giving chase as well. “Girls, please, we promised no more collateral damage!” He disappears into the hall after the children, and the doors fall shut behind him with a final and echoing slam.

There’s a beat of silence, as everyone involved in this debacle waits to see if the big man will come rushing back, but after a moment it seems safe to say he’s otherwise occupied. Crouching down next to Hugo, Varian sighs, finally rising back to his feet.

“So that was Yong, Xavier’s assistant,” he says, wincing as another crash echoes from somewhere outside the dining hall. “And Lance—the big guy—and his two daughters, Keira and Catalina. They run the kitchens.”  

Hugo doesn’t really care, but he nods to pretend he does.

“Fun bunch,” Hugo says, standing as well. Nuru looks torn, her eyes flicking between where the chaos is obviously reaching a crescendo outside, and then back to the two engineers. Varian grins and hands her the dynamite, passing it like a torch.

“Maybe you should go check on them?” Varian asks, and her face lights up in a grateful smile.

“I should,” she says. Hugo would even say her tone is nonchalant, if not for the way she seems drawn to follow the sound of chaos. Busy-body, Hugo thinks, busy, busy, busy-body, and he almost laughs as Nuru spins on her heel and follows after the sound of chaos, leaving without another word.

“Hey kid!” comes a loud voice, and Hugo groans. Right, Fitzherbert. Hugo had almost forgotten.

Varian’s face splits into a grin as the man in question sashays from the kitchen, shouldering into the room with a plate full of ginger molasses cookies in his arms. Eugene already has one cookie shoved in his mouth, chewing obnoxiously, and he tosses another to Varian. Eugene is grinning around his mouth-full of pastry, and as Hugo watches, a chunk of it slips free and splats on his shirt. Gross.

“Thanks for the help!” Eugene says, though it sounds more like fanks fer dah hemp by the time it makes it through the sugar. “Couldn’t have done it without you, kid.”

Varian laughs as he catches the food, snagging a second one when Eugene offers him the tray. With a small motion he offers one to Hugo, holding it up. Hugo eyes their ill gotten gains for a second, before shrugging and taking it. He’s never been one to turn down free food, really, even if it does come from such an irritating source. Eugene seems to notice Hugo then, eyebrow raising in question. He swallows down his big bite of pastry, gasping for a second before shaking himself and looking back to Hugo. “Ah, did you finally make a friend, kid?” he asks Varian, smirking as Varian lets out an offended noise.

“Not particularly,” Varian says, crossing his arms. He’s pouting, but when Hugo glances at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement, he’s quick to turn it into a scowl. “This is Hugo. Rapunzel hired him on as a junior engineer.”

Eugene’s brows shoot up for the sky, and he looks over to Hugo. “Really?” he says, “just like that?”

“Just like that,” Varian mutters. Eugene purses his lips in thought before shrugging and sticking a hand out to Hugo.

“Eugene Fitzherbert, helmsman,” he says with a grin. “Welcome to the crew, then. Don’t let my vertically challenged friend here scare you off, I swear we’re nice.”

“Hugo,” the blond responds, ignoring Varian’s offended noise. “And don’t worry. All he’s done is try to sass his way out of admitting I was right and he was wrong about an engine part.”

Varian boreline screams at that, the offense clawing its way out of his throat as Eugene cracks up laughing. Hugo smiles at a job well done. At least someone on this crew had a good sense of humor. The man merely ruffles Varian’s hair, moving past them with his plate of ill gotten goods.

“Make sure Yong goes to Xavier!” Varian calls after him, crossing his arms. Eugene offers a thumbs up, casually shoving another dessert in his mouth.

Varian rolls his eyes and waves Hugo forward, back into the hall. “Come on. Captain’s this way. She’ll want to talk to you before we set off.”

Hugo hums, unbothered, but behind his back his fingers tighten. The Captain. Right. Okay, then— showtime. He pulls himself taller, and sets his shoulders. He’s sold them the lie, and they’ve swallowed it, but now he has to keep it going.

There’s only one room down this end of the hall— a wide curricular door with a crossed little porthole window and a brass handle. Varian knocks twice, waits until a voice calls back, and then pushes it open. He doesn’t walk in, though, instead pressing himself back against the door and then gesturing for Hugo to go first.

Oh, so it’s like this then. Hugo grits his teeth a little and then forcefully relaxes, stepping inside. He resists the urge to shoulder-check Varian as he passes— this isn’t the time for it; there’ll be other opportunities.

The Captain’s room isn’t what Hugo expects, first stepping in. It’s smaller than Donella’s by far, almost cozy, with tapestries and scarves hanging across the ceiling and hand-painted artwork scrawling the walls from floor to ceiling. There’s a wide open window deck and small personal balcony, like Donella has, but even that is smaller than Hugo expects.

Beyond small, it’s also breezy— every window open, every door thrown wide, as if trying to make the room seem bigger than it is. Hugo can practically see the whole sky sprawling out her window, the distant horizon and even the slight glint of the copper-panel lightning shields that make attacking Corona so troublesome. A small door on the side looks like it might lead to the Captain’s personal quarters, and in the center of the room is a huge desk overflowing with paper and ink and half-open books, ship logs and journals and one bizarrely placed cookbook.

Captain Rapunzel is standing at the balcony, flipping through loose papers; when Hugo enters, she tilts her head with a smile. She’s still dressed in that fancy noble’s gown, like the filthy rich kid she is, though the shoes have made a sneaky disappearance entirely. On her shoulder sits a strange chameleon-looking automaton made of some fascinatingly reflective material, looking almost mirror-like but without the fragility of glass. A little ways away, a tall woman with curly bobbed hair and sharp eyes leans against the far wall, absently flipping a knife through her fingers.

Hugo glances between them, taking in every detail in seconds before he straightens and gives both ladies a smirk. “Captain,” he says, nodding at Rapunzel. He turns his attention on the sharp-eyed woman next to her, and forces his smile wider, giving a second jaunty nod. “Random stranger.”

The woman snorts; Rapunzel laughs aloud, one hand rising to hide her smile. “Hugo,” she says, sounding delighted. God, she’s peppier than most puppies— how on earth did she get to captain of a ship like this? “It’s good to see you again! Sorry, I’ll introduce you—this is Cassandra, leader of our sky guard force.” The woman gives a short, disinterested wave with the knife. “Cass, this is Hugo— our new hire.” She turns back to Hugo, beaming. “Have you been taking a look around? What do you think?”

“She’s lovely,” Hugo says, honest for once. None of you deserve her, he thinks, also, but that comment is better left unsaid. “Aphelion is a beautiful ship.”

“She flies like a dream, too,” Rapunzel says, with a little sigh. “Ah, I’m so happy you like her! You’ll be working closely with her, so—” She pats the wall next to her head, almost fond. “Well, it’s always good to know ship and engineer agree with each other.”

Varian snorts loudly. Hugo stills at the disrespect, shoulders going stiff and hands curling so tight his fingers ache— but all Rapunzel does is wrinkle her nose, giving the other boy a swift evil eye before turning back to Hugo with an apologetic smile. “Anyways, I just wanted to check in. I know I said you’ll be starting as a junior engineer, but unfortunately you’ll be on probation for a while before you can start properly. Aphelion’s engines and pipework can be… delicate, and we want to make sure you can handle her before we throw you into the fire.” She presses her hands together. “I hope you understand?”

Hugo wrestles with himself. Probation? He hasn’t been on probation since he was ten years old, and the demotion stings worse than that goddamn junior title. He can hear Varian snickering behind him, and that burns too— that this pipsqueak gets to deal with those burning, beautiful engines, while Hugo spends fuck-knows-how-long screwing in loose bolts? Fuck that.

But this is the Captain, her orders, her word, and Hugo thinks of Donella and the job and the payoff, and in the end he shoves his fury back in the corner of his mind, smiling wide instead.

“Of course,” he says. “Sounds… lovely.”

“Only for a little while,” Rapunzel repeats, sympathetic. The silver chameleon on her shoulder trills softly, and she runs her finger down the length of its spine almost absently. “Oh, thank you, Pascal. I almost forgot.” She looks back to Hugo and claps her hands. “Room assignments!”

“Yay,” Hugo says, dryly. He takes a breath, shaking off the disappointment about probation more firmly, and holds himself a little taller. It’s fine. The worst news is over with, anyway. Hugo doesn’t really care where he ends up; Hugo has never been picky about these sorts of things. So long as it’s quiet and he’s away from the annoying pipsqueak, Hugo won’t complain.

Behind him, Varian chants, in a very poor attempt at a low whisper: please be next to the boilers, pleaseeeee be next to the boilers, please please please—

Rapunzel’s smile grows wicked. “You’ll be in the empty room next to Varian’s.”

...Wait, what?

There’s a muffled thump as Varian dramatically falls over in shock.

“Also, the room isn’t ready yet—” Rapunzel adds with a grin, “—so tonight you’ll be sleeping on Varian’s floor.”

Hugo opens his mouth. Hugo closes his mouth. Hugo grits his teeth very hard, and reminds himself that mutiny two hours after being hired is not, unfortunately, part of the plan.

Behind Rapunzel, Cassandra is laughing so hard she’s starting to wheeze. Gods damn her.

Varian is still face-first on the floor. His answering “Fuck!” is muffled into the wood.

Rapunzel frowns at him anyway. “Language,” she says, but— holy shit. Is that a smile?

It is. They’re being mocked. By the Maker, she is laughing at them. What did Hugo do to her? He thought their first meeting went fine! What the hell!?

“Is this because I ate the last slice of pie yesterday?” Varian asks the floor. “Because I am sorry. For that. So sorry. Please have mercy.”

“Oh, c’mon, up— off the floor,” Rapunzel sighs at him, still laughing, and walks by Hugo to help drag Varian up to his feet again. The boy goes reluctantly, looking despondent. “I’m not doing this as punishment, Varian, please. He’s your assistant and you two are going to be working together very closely, so he’s your responsibility. That’s all.”

“But I—” Rapunzel gives him a look. Varian visibly deflates. “Fine, fine.”

Cassandra, Hugo notes, is grinning. He narrows his eyes. That’s all, hah, he doesn’t think so. They’re being played. Hugo can sense it.

Rapunzel draws away from Varian with one fond tuffle at the other boy’s hair, then moves back towards her desk. “That’s all I really had to say, I think… Eugene will drop off a spare blanket and pillow for you in Varian’s room, Hugo, and with luck we’ll have your lodgings prepared before tomorrow night. And… yep, that’s all! Unless you have any questions?”

“No,” Hugo says, a little stiff.

“Great! And just in time for dinner… well, I won’t keep you two.” Varian is already turning away, heading for the door without so much a salute; a moment’s pause, then Hugo reluctantly follows, unsure how to deal with this odd relationship between Captain and engineer.

“I actually hate you,” Varian says with a scowl.

Rapunzel laughs. “Save me a seat!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Wild.

They’re halfway through the door when Cassandra calls out after them. “Sleep well tonight, lovebirds!”

Hugo rolls his eyes, and he grabs for the doorknob even as Varian whips around ahead of him, face flushed and eyes wide. “Cass!” Varian shouts through the door, right in Hugo’s face. “Come on! I have STANDARDS!”

Hugo chokes on a laugh, ducking his head quick to muffle it in his arm. Rude! he thinks, almost grinning at the offended face Varian makes at his back, and then pulls the Captain’s door shut with a heavy thump.

Through the door, he can hear both Cassandra and the Captain laughing. Varian is still shouting.

Six fucking months of this. Supposedly it’ll all be worth it in the end, but…

Ugh.

Hugo squeezes his eyes shut, pinching at the bridge of his nose, and refuses to admit he’s smiling too.

Dinner that night is… interesting, to say the least. Most of the crew is taking advantage of their last night on land, so the dining hall is decidedly empty. Still, there’s enough people to call the room cosy, the lot of them lining up to receive their food. Hugo’s used to a certain system: grab your plate, get your ration, and fuck off. Easy peasy. Varian doesn’t seem to want to chat too much, but he still shows Hugo where the large stacks of plates and cutlery are so he’s not totally lost.

Hugo’s surprised when Lance dramatically unveils a spread of food across the whole of the wide window between the large room and the kitchen. He must be pulling out all the stops for the last night before they set sail, Hugo muses, watching as those before them pick and choose at random what to put on their plate. It’s odd. Usually with ships you’d be lucky to get something that wasn’t freeze dried or hard as a rock. There’s actual food here, chicken and roast vegetables, and— by the Maker is that actual, honest to god cheese? Hugo can’t help but get a little excited. Rapunzel’s money must be good for something, he guesses.

The Captain isn’t there, probably off eating in her own quarters like Captains usually do. No point in associating with the common rabble, after all. Varian scoops food onto his plate, idly passing a large spoon to Hugo when he’s done with it, the motion happening without any thought. It seems that’s how it works, Hugo scooping food of his own before he passes off the spoon to Eugene, standing behind him. This is so goddamn weird, Hugo thinks to himself as he scoops more food onto his plate. Who the hell actually eats food like this on a working vessel?

The weirdness doesn’t end there, either. The way Hugo’s used to things is simple: after you win the scramble for rations, most people tend to immediately piss off to their own isolated corners of whatever ship they’re on, hiding away to eat in peace.

The crew of the Aphelion do it differently, because of course they do. When Hugo goes to leave the room, Varian grabs him by the sleeve, dragging him over to the large table he’d noticed last time they were in the room. Yong and Nuru are already there, as are Cassandra and Xavier, and a few others Hugo doesn’t have names for yet. Not that he cares, of course, because none of them matter in the grand scheme of things anyways, and why is he bothering to remember their names again?

Varian greets them with a smile, setting his food down and taking a seat. Hugo stands awkwardly for just a beat too long, holding his plate just a little too tightly, before Varian takes pity. The younger teen kicks out the empty chair next to him, gesturing for Hugo to take a seat. He does, looking around as people fill in about a third of the chairs, the lot of them clustering around one end of it. The head spot is empty, probably because it’s so close to the wall with the way the table’s jammed into the dining room. The gentle lull of conversation takes over, only growing when Lance and his daughters join as well, once everyone’s sat down. Another oddity, the kitchen staff eating with the rest of the crew.

“I just have no idea where they went!” Lance moans sadly, “I swear I made three dozen ginger molasses cookies, but now I can only find two dozen.”

“That’s rough, bud,” Eugene says, playing with the tines on his fork. “We haven’t even taken off yet and you’ve already lost your mind.”

Yong snickers from his place across from Hugo, as does Varian to his left. Hugo has to bite his lip to keep from laughing too. He’s got a reputation to uphold, after all.

Cassandra glares at them all, and they sit up a little straighter under her stare. The giggles stop, but then she smirks. “You guys tell me if he snaps,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “I need an excuse to toss him in the brig.”

Lance makes a dramatic gasp, clutching at his heart. “You wouldn’t!” he wails, “I am a single father, and you would throw me in the brig?”

“Absolutely,” Cassandra says blandly. “And your kids would help me.”

“We totally would,” Keira pipes up from her place next to Lance. “If you’re not around, bedtime is never.”

They all let up a little as Lance begins to blubber into his dinner, wailing about ungrateful children into his peas. They muddle through a little more awkward small talk, everyone dancing around the fact that Hugo doesn’t seem keen to join the conversation, until one of the doors flies open with a loud bang.

“Sorry I’m late!” Rapunzel crows, Pascal on her shoulder. “Got lost charting some stuff for tomorrow.”

She borderline skips past the table, grabbing a plate and humming as she loads it with food from the spread. Hugo nods to himself, ah that must be what the chair at the head of the table’s for. They all watch her spin around and come towards the table, and Hugo waits to be proven correct.

Therefore, when Rapunzel sets herself down to Hugo’s left, he’s left a little confused.

What kind of Captain eats with their crew? The absurdity of it throws Hugo for a loop, the sheer oddness confusing at best. Varian snickers by Hugo’s other side, watching as Rapunzel begins to shovel food into her mouth like she’s been starving for weeks. When she breaks for air she turns to Hugo, leaning an elbow onto the polished wood of the table and balancing her chin on her hand. She looks at him with excitement, bouncing in her seat. What an actual lunatic.

“So,” she says, her grin getting wider, “how was the rest of your afternoon?”

“Fantastic,” Varian says, answering for Hugo, but Rapunzel flicks a pea at him.

“Wasn’t asking you,” she says as Varian throws another pea back. She slaps it out of midair, obviously used to this. “I was asking Hugo. So?���

“Nah, it was good,” Hugo says, trying to school his face into a smile. “Very… educational.”

“It’s a lot at first,” Rapunzel nods. “But you’ll get used to it— I promise!”

Varian snorts, but doesn’t say anything. The conversation drifts then, easy and light like they’ve been doing this for years.

Hugo realizes with a start that they probably have.

He shuffles food around on his plate, unseeing as he begins to think of a game plan. It’s obvious that he’s going to have to tweak his original idea. It seems as though skulking around like he usually does is only going to seem more than a little suspicious with such a tightly knit crew. A bit of a wrench in the engine, but nothing he can’t handle. Donella’s counting on him, after all; it wouldn’t be due to let the boss down.

Xavier seems to be going on about some legend or another, the whole table politely tuning him out. Eugene seems to be almost asleep, borderline leaning on Cassandra as he balances his chin on his hand, elbow planted firmly on the table. Hugo can see a shimmer of something on his shoulder, startling when Pascal shifts into view with the faintest glimmer of shifting colour. God what a creepy thing to make. The chameleon shaped automaton wiggles on Eugene’s shoulder before letting his tongue fly, catching Eugene right in the ear. He wakes up with a shriek, loudy screaming as he jolts upright.

The whole table erupts into laughter, even Xavier. Hugo can hear Rapunzel gasping for breath through the loud laughs, cackling at her husband’s expense. Hugo can see Varian out of the corner of his eye, the shorter boy nearly face first in his dinner as his shoulders shake with giggles. Hugo fully turns to him, ignoring Eugene’s howls about goddamn awful frogs, and sees Varian just as he snorts on his own giggles, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. Hugo stares for just a second, caught up in the sight of it—

Cute.

—Oh. Oh, fuck no, he is not going there. Even if Varian isn’t half bad to look at, he’s still a certified pain in the ass, not to mention part of the crew Hugo is here to rob. No amount of sass or big, baby blue eyes will ever change that. At the end of the day, Varian’s merely an obstacle between Hugo and his prize, and there is no way Hugo is letting anything stop him. Hugo tears his eyes away from Varian, shaking himself. Think of the money, stupid, he tells himself, think of the fortune.  

The laughter dies down after a few more seconds, Eugene finally getting Pascal off his shoulder and onto the table. The little automaton scurries back to it’s master, Rapunzel scooping him up and petting along his metal back with a coo. It reminds Hugo of Varian and that stupid raccoon, the way she treats the automaton like it’s a pet. Strange.

Dinner settles into a companionable silence after that, everyone too busy stuffing their faces to really make conversation. This, Hugo can already guess, is probably the quietest they ever get on this ship. Hell, he’d even put money on it. They’re nothing if not a lively bunch, to say the least. Not really Hugo’s style of people; the whole peppy, loving-life, sappy crew that children dream to be a part of someday.

It’s disgusting, is what it is.  

Rapunzel doesn’t try to loop Hugo into any more conversations, thankfully, the Captain disappearing from dinner just as abruptly as she’d entered. “Sorry guys!” she says, borderline tossing her plate into a square bucket by the kitchen window. “Can’t stay long, lots to do before tomorrow!”

Everyone calls their goodbyes, but she’s out the door in a swish of purple fabric before many of them can even speak. Varian just laughs and gathers his own dishes, holding a hand out for Hugo’s as well. The blond stands when Varian gestures with his chin, following across the room to a strange set of three pipes, all embedded in the wall. They’re brass, blending in with the warm wood well enough that Hugo hadn’t noticed them until now.

“Forks, knives, spoons,” Varian says, gesturing to each one. He holds a fork up in display before putting it into the tube labeled forks in looping, whimsical blue-painted script. The other pipes are labeled as well, and under each label the pipes have a small metal button in the center. Once the fork is in Varian taps the button with his thumb, the tube making a little shwoop-ting noise as the fork is dropped down into it. There’s the tiniest puff of steam before a little piece of metal pops back up as Varian releases the button, blocking the pipe once again.

“I made Lance an automatic dishwasher for his birthday last year,” Varian explains, “It’s not… delicate enough for anything made of glass, but for silverware it’s great.”

Hugo snorts, his brain running a mile a minute as to how to make it work for glasses and the like before he has to stop himself. He’s not here to make friends, and he’s certainly not here to be helpful. Hugo tries the knives chute for himself, delighting as the cutlery disappears into the void below. He might have to ask Donella about getting that for their own ship, really, not that Hugo would ever give Varian the satisfaction of Hugo asking how he made it.

They’ve only just made it out of the dining hall, before Varian is nearly bowled over by a frantic man with red hair. The new guy— tall and gangly and looking one good breeze away from falling right over the edge— is the throes of panic, half-way ranting even as he grabs at Varian’s shoulders. Varian holds up his hands  and backpedals, nearly falling into Hugo, shying away from the frantic energy of the man in front of them.

“Woah, woah— Feldspar, what’s happened now?” Varian asks, not-so-subtly trying to inch away as the redhead gets closer.

“It’s water pipe eighteen!” Feldspar— Hugo doesn’t even know where to start with a name like that— crows, nearly tugging his own hair out. “It’s popped again, I don’t know what happened!”

“Again?” Varian mutters. “We’re not even in the air this time!”

Feldspar only nods, grabbing at Varian’s wrist. The short boy sighs, looking back to Hugo with a scowl. “Stay here,” he says, already letting Feldspar tug him away. “I won’t be long.”

Hugo nods, smiling and giving him a thumbs up. It’s obvious that Varian doesn’t believe the false innocence for even a second—Hugo can tell by the way his eyes narrow and Varian’s head cocks to the side—but Feldspar is already screeching about water damage and oh by the Gods it’s everywhere, and so Varian has no choice but to follow the hysterical man back to whence he came.

Hugo keeps his grin in place until they round the corner. The minute Varian loses sight of him, Hugo drops the grin like it’s wronged him, pivoting once on his heel and walking right away.

“Stay there, Hugo,” the blond mutters to himself, pitching his voice to be deliberately wheedling and annoying. “I’ll be right back... buncha bullshit.”

The halls of the Aphelion are long and winding, but nothing Hugo can’t handle. He skates his way through with ease, eventually finding his way back up to the deck. Hugo steps out from a different door than he’d come in from, this one decidedly smaller and more unassuming than the one Varian had shown him earlier this afternoon. It’s still in the vault door style Hugo’s noticed they like to use, a great iron door embedded in the wood with a spinning wheel for a handle.

Hugo slips out onto the deck as quietly as he can, cautiously closing the metal door behind him. It ghosts along on perfectly oiled hinges, silent in the inky black of the late evening. The deck is empty, save for Hugo, but he still takes his time. He needs to find where the cargo hold is, and soon—

A sudden bang comes from the dock below. Hugo drops to the polished wood of the deck on reflex, dipping down so he’s nearly pressed up against the boards. He chances moving towards the edge of the deck, peeking over the immaculate railing and down to the dockyard below.

Four large figures stand on the copper panels that make up the docks, all of them wrapping chains around… a very large something. Hugo perks up with interest when he sees it. Bingo, something in him whispers. Donella had never told him exactly what the Aphelion had been transporting, only that it was incredibly valuable. From the shady way Varian had dodged Hugo’s questioning earlier in the day, Hugo can hedge his bets: it’s the kind of thing that can make a man rich beyond their wildest dreams.

The box seems to be a containment chamber of some kind, a five foot squared box of metal panels all bolted together with perfect accuracy. There’s a single porthole of glass bolted into one of the sides, and Hugo can only justsee a neon green light filtering through… is that ice? Sure enough the window is frozen over, and Hugo can even pick out the beginnings of hoarfrost crawling up the corners of the chamber.

Puffs of frozen air seep slowly from the seams in the metal box. Liquid nitrogen, Hugo thinks to himself, sinking down a little deeper as the side of the Aphelion slides open, a great door in the outer wall of the ship. The men wrapping the containment chamber finish their work, and a metal crane extends from the guts of the Aphelion. This is pretty standard for larger pieces of cargo, of course, to bring it directly into the cargo bay from the outside, but in the dead of night? With minimal crew to get it in place?

Suspicious.

Hugo watches as the great metal box is lifted into the air, lifting off the cart the men had brought it in, the Aphelion reeling it in like a caught fish—

“Hugo?!” a frantic voice calls behind him, and Hugo whirls around, half-rising from his bannister hiding spot to see Varian, standing right behind him and looking undeniably pissed. “Hugo, you’re not supposed to be up here!”

If anything Varian looks spastic, and when he hears the commotion being made from the cargo being loaded onto the Aphelion, he outright blanches, going pale in the face. He grabs at Hugo’s sleeve and starts to pull.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Varian says, dragging Hugo away. The blond thinks about putting up a fight, but logic tells him that would end badly. Or, at least, with Hugo being fired before he can even get what he came for. He lets Varian drag him away, chancing one last look back.

He gets one last glimpse of the box, finally in the Aphelion, the doors beginning to inch quietly shut. In the next instant Varian has pulled him out of range, but the damage is already done.

Bingo, Hugo thinks again.

Varian bullies him off the deck, forcing him down into the labyrinthian hallways of the ship. “Why the hell were you up there?” Varian demands, stopping them once they are well and truly away from the deck. “You were supposed to wait for me near the dining hall, why did you wander off?”

“Got bored,” Hugo says, shrugging. Varian’s eyes narrow, as though trying to intimidate him. It’s adorable. “Needed some fresh air, goggles, is that a crime now?”

“It is when I told you to stay put,” the shorter boy snaps. “That cargo’s confidential; you weren’t supposed to know about it.”

“Need-to-know-basis?” Hugo asks with a smirk, remembering Varian’s words from earlier that afternoon. If anything, Varian’s scowl deepens, his teeth gritting just a little tighter.

“Exactly,” Varian hisses, “and you weren’t supposed to know, so you’d do well to forget everything you saw up there.”

Hugo holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “Sure, goggles, can’t be that important.”

Varian huffs out a frustrated noise, and Hugo smirks. Better to feign nonchalance now that he’s been caught; if he tries to dig now Varian would be more suspicious than he already is. Varian can’t prove Hugo was snooping, and that’s enough to keep Hugo safe… in theory.

The shorter boy looks ready to punch Hugo, but he can’t, and it’s so delicious. Hugo would laugh, if he weren’t so irritated.

Varian finally settles for clenching his fist in the air with frustration, then motions for Hugo to follow him further down the hall. This is a new part of the Aphelion, one lined with doors on every side of the hallways. Varian leads Hugo to one of the doors near the end, opening it and gesturing for Hugo to follow inside.

He does, without question.

“Your room’s not done until tomorrow,” Varian mutters as they walk into a sparse bedroom. Hugo makes a face at the room: the automaton, Ruddiger or whatever, is already sitting on the bed, fast asleep. So creepy. “You’re bunking with me, like Rapunzel said.”

Yeah, Hugo knows; he hasn’t exactly forgotten that he’s going to have to share a room with this pain in the ass. He steps inside and stands still in the center of the room, hearing Varian close the door behind them.

Despite himself, his hands curl into fists, half-hidden by his sides. Irritation bubbles bitter and acidic in his chest. He knows better, he knew going in this job wouldn’t be that easy—but still. They were loading the stupid thing right in front of him, and if it weren’t for Varian, Hugo could have…!

Damn it.

He lets out a thin breath through his teeth, a low hiss— then turns and meets Varian’s narrow gaze with a bright smile. Varian looks annoyed to see it; Hugo smiles harder in retaliation. Behind his back, his fists clench. It’s been a long day, a tiring day, and Varian is the cause of most of the bullshit. Hugo is allowed to be pissed about it, okay?

“So?” Hugo says, and if it takes more effort than usual to keep his voice light, well. “Where am I sleeping?”

Varian’s expression sours at the reminder. “Right,” he mutters, and makes for the far wall, towards a small bolted dresser with shuttered doors. “Eugene should have put some blankets in here somewhere…”

The room is cozy, Hugo notes, almost absently; sparse and clean and rarely used, the bed made and sheets crisp. Something tells Hugo that Varian doesn’t spend much time here—wherever his workspace on this ship, Hugo would bet good money it’s a disorganized mess with a cot under the desk for all nighters.

Still, the room isn’t shabby—a nice size, with a dresser and side table and a wide bed. There’s a large porthole window looking out the right side of the ship, into the dockyard, and a copper lantern hangs from the ceiling like a droplet, swinging faintly with the sway of the ship. A heavy shag carpet takes up most of the floor, a dark gray turned multi-colored from past experiments. The rest of the walls are taken up by shelves, stuffed full of books and materials and spare parts. The smell of oil lingers faintly in the air. If Hugo hadn’t been so irritated, he might have even found it nice.

Instead he finds it vexing, and as Varian shakes out the extra bedding and lays it down, Hugo rakes his eyes down the walls and feels a sneer curl his lips. “Homey,” he says, mild as the weather, and makes it sound like half-an insult. “I bet it’s real fun to fix those shelves up again once one rock sends them sprawling, hm?”

“They’re locked in with magnets. My design.” Hugo scowls; Varian looks up, grinning a little. “Also, all furniture is bolted down, too, to avoid exactly that.”

It’s clever. Hugo hates it. “Lovely,” he says dryly, as unimpressed as he can make it, and wanders across the room with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His eyes catch on the dresser. There’s only one thing on it: a metallic frame with a small sepia photograph, faded and worn with time. The photo is of a young boy, obviously Varian given the matching stripe in his hair, and a man—tall and broad-shouldered with deep set eyes, smiling wide and fond at the child sitting up on his shoulders.

“Who’s that?” Hugo wonders, looking at the frame, picking it from the dresser. The magnet sticks a bit, but he pries it up pretty easy. “Daddy dearest? I don’t think we’ve been introduced. What’s he do— swab the deck?”

Varian’s voice is very quiet. “Put it down.”

Hugo looks back, mocking. “What—”

He goes silent, his mouth snapping shut. Varian isn’t even looking at him. He’s staring at the photo, pale and a little wild-eyed, hands clenched. “Put it down,” he says again, and there’s nothing in his voice at all.

Hugo’s irritation flatlines; something in his gut drops. Shit. He’s crossed a line, somewhere, without even knowing it. He puts down the photo at once, stepping back, hands raised and empty. “I didn’t mean to—”

Varian shoulders past him, dead-eyed and cold. “Good night.”

“I—”

“Good night.”

Hugo takes the hint. He edges towards his bed roll, lips pressing thin, uncomfortable. He’d just wanted to push some buttons, not—this. He’s not sure what this is, or why he feels vaguely ill. Is this guilt? Oh, shit.

Varian shucks off his coat, under the covers before Hugo can even blink. Hugo settles on his own blanket pile just as the light snaps off. It’s dark.

Hugo looks down at his hands, staring until his eyes adjust and he can see the shape of them in the dark, listening to the ragged drag of Varian’s breathing. He doesn’t move, not yet. He just sits, and listens, and watches his hands.

And he waits. Just to see. Just in case.

But Varian doesn’t speak to him again.

Hugo opens his eyes to a dark morning.

A headache pulses behind his eyelids almost at once, and Hugo grits his teeth and presses a hand against his temples. He hisses a breath between his teeth as silently as he can. He’d planned for this, when he’d finally laid down last night to sleep—there’s no better time for snooping on the ship then in the dead-hours of morning, after all—but still. He’d had a long day yesterday, and a late night, and something in him despairs at the dark sky he sees outside Varian’s window. The sun isn’t even remotely up yet.

Ughhhhhhh.

He climbs to his feet, silent as a grave, pulling up his coat and boots to take with him. He stands, listening intently for any change in Varian's breathing, and once satisfied he moves noiselessly to the door. It’s time to get to work at his actual job.

He slips out the door, and eases it closed; it clips shut with only the slightest of thumps. So far, so good. Hugo pulls on his coat as he pads his way down the hall, boots still dangling from his hands. The hallway is dead silent, and dark, only one out of every four lanterns still lit. Hugo takes his time, listening, but no one else seems to be awake yet…

No, wait. Hugo stills mid-step, eyes widening. Because there, if he strains his ears…

Footsteps, high above him.

The deck.

...What was it Varian had said, yesterday? Leaving tomorrow, and I mean tomorrow. Which means—a morning lift off.

It’s ass o’clock in the morning, and the rest of the crew has apparently chosen this to be the time to trope on back indoors. So…

Hugo closes his eyes and rubs at the bridge of his nose, tired all the way to his bones. Oh, he thinks. Fuck me.

Well. He’s awake now, no changing that, and there’s no way he’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon. Hugo scrubs his hands through his hair and kneels down to put on his boots. He won’t be able to go to any of the places he needs to check out, but he can still take a look around. And if anyone asks, he’ll just say he couldn’t sleep.

Still: so annoying.

He steps up onto the main deck already frowning, and squeezes his eyes shut at what he finds—people, not enough to be loud but definitely too many to hide from, walking silent across the ship, carrying crates and tying down final shipments. They speak in muted, hushed voices; soft laughter drifts across the deck. Far-off over the edge of the deck, he can see sparks of lightning hanging in the air, Corona’s floating shields up and running even in this early hour.  It’s still dark, but this high up Hugo can see the thin line of blue starting to band the horizon, the gold hue creeping into the distant clouds: dawn, slowly but surely on its way.

Hugo looks away, and beelines for the stairs leading up to the upper deck; if he’s going to be out here, he might as well get a view. He gets half-way up before he realizes the deck isn’t as empty as first thought—there, in the far corner, elbows resting on the railing and her eyes turned towards a slumbering Corona, is Rapunzel.

Hugo stills, preparing to back away—but it’s too late. She turns to look at him, and catches his gaze. Hugo doesn’t move.

After a long pause, Rapunzel smiles at him, something hushed in her expression. She gestures him to her, and Hugo, though reluctant, goes.

He steps up beside her, gingerly resting his elbows on the railing in a mimicry of her pose, and turns his face to the city too so he doesn’t have to look at her. He’s not sure what to make of this Captain, all things considered; she’s childish and naive and preppy, too genuinely cheerful by half, and these are all things Hugo holds in disdain. And yet, at the same time, the paradox: she is Captain of the Aphelion, the fastest ship in all seven skies, the jewel of the northern skyline. She is a legend.

He doesn’t understand her at all.

Hugo turns his face up into the wind, taking comfort from the cold. Corona is a dark blot on the slowly lightening skyline, as asleep as cities ever get, the lamplights burning a distant orange and the trains all silent. It is a dark city lit only by faint, distant dollaps of light like fireflies, but as Hugo watches, a thin band of gold haloes the highest point, the first spire of the Sun’s temple, a thin circle of sunlit glow like a crown.

The silence stretches, and Hugo shifts, a little uneasy. “What,” he says, for lack of anything better. “Homesick already?”

Rapunzel laughs quietly. “Do I look homesick?”

He glances at her from the corner of his eye and falters, because— no, maybe not homesick. Hugo doesn’t even know what that would look like. But there is something muted in her, something sad, a strange sort of melancholy as she looks out over the city.

“I don’t know,” Hugo says, and looks away, discomforted by his own honesty.

Rapunzel is quiet again. Then she sighs, soft, a heavy exhale. “No,” she says. “No, not homesick. I never really miss Corona, though I probably should.” Her smile twists, goes funny at the edges. “But no. Aphelion, this ship, she’s home to me. Corona is… just a place.”  

Hugo makes a face at that, utterly involuntary, and turns away too late. Rapunzel hums, thoughtful. “You don’t agree?”

He thins his lips, fingers curling on the railing. He shouldn’t—it’s stupid and he knows better, never antagonize a Captain, and especially not her; Hugo can’t afford an enemy this early into the game.

But he’s tired, and his head hurts, and he’s so sick of it, this goody-two-shoes crew with their sweet sayings and friendship bracelets and lack of anything resembling a sense of reality, and his fingers are digging into the wood before he can even think to stop himself.

“What’s the deal with that?” he asks, unable to keep from sounding snide. “With all that ‘the ship is home’ shit. I mean—come on.”

Rapunzel tilts her head, brow furrowing. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean— ” He gestures, expansive, to the ship, something tight and angry winding in his chest, like laughter, only cruel. Because home? The Aphelion is beautiful, yes; Donella’s ship is lovely too, in its way. But Hugo has never been so stupid as to call a ship home. Ships are fallible, breakable, and crews shift like the tides; it’s a place of commerce and trading and battle. Not home, whatever home is, whatever that sort of thing looks like. Home stays on the ground; home is just Hugo, and all the riches in the world; home is—not necessary. Not needed.

“Look, I don’t mean any offense, Captain, but—how can a ship be a home?” He scoffs, scornful, and shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “It’s a place of employment. It’s a job.”

Rapunzel is staring at him now. She’s turned away from the city entirely, looking right at him. Her eyes are pale green and sharp as glass, and all at once Hugo realizes what he’s saying, who he’s saying it to, and he clenches his jaw and braces himself and waits for the verdict. Gods, if he gets fired over this, before liftoff, just because he couldn’t resist being mouthy, Donella is going to kill him. Hugo won’t even blame her. This was such a bad idea, in hindsight, so fucking stupid—

But after a moment Rapunzel blinks, and instead of going cold, or angry, or commanding, she does the most baffling thing she’s done yet: she smiles. At Hugo, directly at him, and it is a warm smile, a fond smile, a little crooked. As if he has said something funny, instead of something cruel.  

And all she says is: “Give it some time. You’ll see.”

Hugo stares at her, utterly floored, for the first time unsure of what to say or what’s happening. And Rapunzel shakes her head, still smiling that strange, soft smile, and before Hugo can move she reaches out and pats his shoulder, once, twice, and then she takes her hand away and heads back to the stairs.

“I didn’t say it earlier, so I’ll tell it to you now, I think,” she says, face turned up to the wind. She’s smiling soft and small, and looks at him from over her shoulder. “Welcome aboard, Hugo. I really am happy to have you.”

By the time Hugo can even think to answer, she is already gone.

He stays there for a long time, just staring, not sure of what to do, or what to think about it all. For the first time in his whole life he feels—he’s not sure what this feeling is. Like being seen, or being known, like something Donella did at times, very rarely. Those brief snatches of a moment, when she’d look at him and her lips would curl into the smallest of smiles; those rare, rare times when she would reach out and ruffle his hair like he was her own. Something bizarre and strange and—

Warm.

He feels shaky. It unsettles him. He doesn’t like it—Hugo draws into himself, rubbing hard at his arms, turning back to the railing. He exhales, watching his breath mist, and shivers for a moment in the morning breeze. He—

He doesn’t know what to think.

Down in the dockyard, people are starting to shout. Dock workers are crossing to and fro around the shipyard, tossing ropes and chains, beginning to unbolt the line. The ramp up to the main deck begins a slow, laborious journey of being rolled back up for storage. The ship is waking up, getting started. He can feel the rumble of the engine starting to buzz beneath his feet with a distant hum. They’re going to fly, soon. In a few minutes’ time, they’ll be in the sky.

Hugo doesn’t move. As the blue line of the horizon turns golden with sunrise, he watches as the Aphelionslowly but surely awakens into life. The chains holding the balloon down fall first; next the fires of the engine, filling up the envelope. Muted yells are traded  across the deck, and in the distance Hugo can hear Rapunzel calling orders. The sails are hoisted tall and high; in the back of the airship, the great copper turbine starts to spin. And little by little, bit by bit, the Aphelion starts to rise.

Hugo stares down at the city, unmoving. He can see the puff of steam rising from the first morning train; the wind is starting to pick up, a comforting howl in his ears. The ship rocks beneath his feet as she settles into the wind currents, and Hugo grips tight at the railing, riding out the first fits and starts of a ship finally waking up.

And just like that, they leave Corona behind.

It takes almost no time at all to leave the dock. Even less to pass the lightning shields, those chained-linked copper panels shining bright in the sun, a loose circle around the city. After all the work it took to get here… leaving Corona takes only a moment.

As the first bit of sun crests the distant hills, Corona is already falling into silhouette. It’s beautiful. Hugo has never put much stock in cities, but… even he has to admit it. The flying city is shadowed and soft in the early morning light, outlined in shining gold, and for a moment he can truly, honestly understand why it’s named for the Sun. There is something ethereal about it. Something fragile and light like a dream, a glow that exists only now, in these in-between daybreak hours.

He watches as Corona fades away, swallowed up by the clouds, and it is only when the city is at last out of view that Hugo lets up on his grip, exhaling hard.

He bows his head over his arms, feeling a tension he didn’t know he’d had ease away from his shoulders. He laughs, a little, then remembers the Captain and her words and—that, whatever that was, and feels the smile falter and fall off his face.

He exhales into his elbows. He lifts his head, staring blankly into the clouds. What had she meant by that? You’ll see. He thinks of last night’s dinner, of Varian’s hiccuping laughter, of the way Rapunzel looked at the dawn, and—

And he thinks: Does it matter?

Does it matter what she meant? Does it matter what she wants? Does it matter that Lance has two kids and Varian snorts when he laughs; does any of it actually matter at all? Of course not. Of fucking course not. Hugo’s not here to play games or play at being their friend—he’s here for a reason, for a job, for the money at the end of the journey. Their words don’t hold any meaning. They don’t hold any meaning, not in the grand scheme of it all.

Hugo’s expression firms. His eyes narrow. His fingers curl. He shakes his head, inwardly marvelling at his own stupidity, because—seriously. What a joke. That he’s hesitated at all, that he’s wasting time on this… he knows better than that. Or, he should.

The Captain—he’s underestimated her, he thinks. He understands a little better how she came to command the ship. For a moment, despite everything, despite all logic—

Hugo shakes his head again, shakes the last echoes of that conversation away, and straightens up to his full height, yawning into one hand. Stupid, really. He knows better, he always has; at least he’s gotten one good thing out of that odd, odd conversation. He’ll have to keep an eye on the Captain after all— she’s more of a threat than he first thought, and that means… Hugo’s going to have to watch his step.

He has a job to do. He has a treasure to steal. Corona is gone and the Aphelion is in flight: six months left, now, till they touch down in the City of the Moon. Six months to plan—to prepare—to pull off the best heist this side of the northern sky.

Hugo closes his eyes, and inhales deeply, and his conviction settles hard and cold in his chest. He’s ready. He has to be. The board is set—the pieces in place—the main players chosen. Hugo versus Aphelion; Hugo versus Captain Rapunzel. Everything is as it should be. All that’s left is to play the game.

All that’s left is to win.

Hugo opens his eyes to the first dawn of many to come, and grins.

“Game on.”  

[robotnik-mun]

So, what happens when I decide to throw caution to the wind and mash together as many fucking Sonic Continuities as I possibly can? You get a big ass tangle of a family tree that needs to be split up into five separate images, that’s what. 

It’s ugly, it’s unpolished, and I made it on a whim. Because the mental image wouldn’t leave me. And because I actually started developing this godforsaken nightmare of a family tree, born of merged continuities, headcanons, and sleep deprivation. 

Now keep in mind that this thing is pure crack- it implies a world where Sonic eventually collapses from exhaustion of having to fight TWO Robotniks. It’s a mish mash of what-if’s, continuity mergers and personal ideas glued together. And I wanna stress it has nothing to directly do with my current setting- this is just like, The Path of Insanity. 

Anyway, yeah. Against my better judgement I made notes for this insanity. Also, you may notice pictures of characters from other franchises being used as portraits for various characters. Those are basically faceclaims of sorts, meant as abstract representations rather than the literal idea of what they looked like... since, honestly, even I’M not cruel enough to inflict my ‘art’ on you. 

Anyway, let’s get the ball rolling- 

“Robotnikhotep”

-Robotnik Ancestor in ‘Mobigypt’. Was probably some big important muckity-muck.

“Julius Robotnikus”

-Probably Mobius’ answer to Caligula. His family eventually fell out of power and was forced to re-settle in what would eventually become Overland. 

Ivo Kintobor

-Yeah, that whole ‘House of Ivo’ thing? This is the guy responsible. Most likely a douchenozzle, as there is a high concentration of that in the bloodline. Basically a minor warlord who unified a bunch of clans to form his own Kingdom, that was subsequently absorbed into Overland during the unification. 

Brutus Kintobor

-Oh wow, a SKINNY Robotnik/Kintobor. This douche canoe attempted to conquer Angel Island for the Overland, but failed miserably. Sent back home in disgrace, a failure.

Gerald Robotnik

- Originally born Gerald Kintobor of the House of Ivo in Overland. He was more interested in science than politics, and after completing college he left that mess behind and immigrated to the United Federation. He changed his name to signify the break from his family history. 

-Explored Angel Island in his youth, where he learned about Chaos Emeralds and the like from the various ruins there. He was even friends with then-guardian Janelle-Li. 

-Started up Robotnik CORPS. He founded it as a way to disseminate his technology to the people of the UF and earn money to fund more experiments. 

-You know the rest. The ARK, Maria, NIDS, Black Doom, Shadow, yadda-yadda-yadda. 

Olga Robotnik

-Gerald’s wife. Duh. 

-She met him while he lived in a spare room her father was renting out. She’d collect his rent. They grew close and eventually had kids and started a family. 

-The shit this poor woman endured is amazing, but she managed to remain unbroken by it, and tried to remain close to her surviving grandchildren. 

Grigory Robotnik

- The first son of Gerald. He wasn’t a genius, but he pursued a career in academics and became a doctor of physics. He had two children, Warren and Maria.

-After the ARK incident he became paranoid and accused the government of covering up what really happened. The obsession to uncover the truth destroyed his physical and mental health, and he died a shunned outcast ranting on pirated radio stations about various conspiracies. 

-Died in a halfway house, but he managed to get ahold of Gerald’s diary before biting it. While he never got to use it to bring down GUN, it still paved the way for Eggman’s eventual use. 

Amelia Robotnik 

-Maria’s mother. After the ARK incident and the supposed death of her children, she fell into a deep depression and eventually committed suicide. In case you haven’t noticed, the story of the Robotnik family is depressing as fuck. 

Warren Robotnik, ‘Warpnik’ 

-Maria’s brother. What a tweest! 

-He was with her on the ARK, and demonstrated a similar scientific gift to his grandfather. He wasn’t close to Shadow the way Maria was. 

-When the ARK was raided, he was captured and subjected to brainwashing treatments by GUN in the hopes of turning him into a loyal, in-house mad scientist. All it did was make him batshit crazy. 

-He escaped some time during the Great War, and is now loose in Mobius, a lunatic geneticist fixated on continuing his grandfather’s ‘great work’... or at least his own warped perception of it. 

Maria Robotnik 

-You know her. You love her. Her life is a tragedy. She’s Maria! Nuff said. Years later, and she still weighs heavily on Shadow. 

Ivo Kintobor

-And here is where things get a bit confusing! Ivo was born ‘Ivo Robotnik’, the second son of Gerald. Long story short, he was a douche more interested in politics and profit, and as such did not get along with his father, who bequeathed the family company to his younger brother. 

-Despite this, Ivo SOMEHOW managed to reproduce. And when the ARK incident happened, he bought the government line hook line and sinker. He changed the family name back to Kintobor and moved everyone back to Overland to start anew. 

-He’s like 50% responsible for Julian winding up the way he did. 

-And yes- he DOES want to bulldoze the puppy orphanage to create a combination oil rig/toxic waste dump. 

-Was murdered by Julian, who disguised it as an accident. 

Lydia Kintobor

-ICE BABY ICE. 

-Julian and Colin’s mom. 

-She 100% supported her husband’s douchery, and was an active participant in tormenting her secondborn son in the hopes of ‘breaking’ him out of being a genius. 

-Killed in the same ‘accident’ that took her husband’s life. 

Colin Kintobor Sr. 

-Born in the United Federation, but moved to the Overland as a child and grew up there. 

-Major league Nationalist and Human Supremacist. Prick. 

-Hated Julian basically forever and was encouraged by his parents to do so. He became their ‘golden child’ and was pushed to succeed at everything. 

-Pursued a career in politics, law, and the military, and eventually served as a general in the Great War. 

-Was eventually murdered by his own brother

Miriam Kintobor 

-Colin’s first wife, via arranged marriage. 

-She was pretty much his opposite, yet despite that fact the two came to genuinely love one another. 

-Died giving birth to their son. Have I mentioned the Kintobor/Robotnik family history is a trainwreck yet? 

Angela Kintobor

-The second wife of Colin. She probably met him while serving as a military functionary during the Great War. She is also the mother of Hope Kintobor. 

-Other than that, I got nothin’. She likely died when Hope was young, by way of Swatbot invasion. Seriously, do NOT become a Kintobor Love Interest. 

Colin “Snively” Kintobor Jr. 

-You know him, you hate him! It’s the Snivster, bay-bee! 

-His mother died giving birth to him. His dad blamed him for this. You can guess the rest. 

-You know most of the story- crappy childhood, admired his uncle Julian, helped him take over the Kingdom of Acorn, spent a decade as his punching bag, etc etc. 

-After seemingly offing Julian during Endgame, he briefly took over the Robotnik Empire.... and promptly lost it to Naugus, forcing him to flee for his life. In exchange for information about Robotropolis’ defenses, King Acorn spared his life but sentenced him to be imprisoned forever.

-Was busted out by a returned Julian so that his uncle would be able to properly ‘thank’ him for losing his empire. Helped the FFs to escape Robotnik’s revenge, and after spending time bumming around with them (and hating it) decided to throw in his lot with Crazy Uncle Ivo. 

-He’s regretted it ever since... though he sticks with him because its either Ivo or Julian, and Julian will ensure his death is cruel, messy, and lingers for years to come. 

Hope Kintobor 

-The second child of Colin Kintobor. She was born during the later years of the Great War and spent much of her early life living in siege conditions as Overland tried and failed to stop the advancement of Robotnik. 

-Eventually she witnessed the death of her father and remaining family at the hands of Robotnik before being saved by Sonic. She had an extended stay in Knothole afterwards, where she slowly learned that much of her people’s views of Mobians was innacurate. 

-She eventually moved to the United Federation as a ward of GUN, serving as the technology expert for Team Dark. She is close to all of them. 

-Seeks to redeem the name of her family so that it’s legacy won’t be one of bloodshed, conquest and madness. She’s got a waaaays to go, to put it mildlry. 

-Despite everything she still cares about her awful, awful half-brother. 

Dr. Julian Robotnik 

-Had a REALLY goddamned crappy....well, life, basically. Take my word for it. 

-Has basically murdered his entire immediate family by this point. 

-Prior to the Great War he aided the Overlander Ministry of Conflict in toppling the legitimate government of the Kingdom of Amunopolis (Aleena’s Kingdom), forcing it’s royal family to flee to the Kingdom of Acorn and re-settle under new identities, with crown princess becoming ‘Bernadette Hedgehog’. That’s right- he’s indirectly responsible for Sonic existing. 

-Blah blah blah evil experiments blah blah war crimes blah blah sentenced to be executed by Overlander government during the Great War and blah blah blah coup.

-Took over a large swathe of Mobius and expanded to conquer more, and for a time seemed like he might conquer the entire planet. The Robotnik Empire is.... not a fun place. Then or now.

-Then Sonic and the FF’s happened. Then Endgame happened, and he was... indisposed for a while, leading to his empire being diminished. While he has returned, he has suffered numerous setbacks since then, and the Robotnik Empire is now greatly diminished from its peak. 

-That being said, he still rules a pretty big part of the planet, and is still the biggest danger to the world at present.

-Hates his cousin Ivo.

-REALLY goddamn hates That Hedgehog. 

Laura Kintobor 

-That’s Doctor Laura Kintobor (nee Ellison) to you, buster. 

-She and Julian both worked as scientists with Overland’s science ministry, where they met and befriended one another. She eventually managed to coax Julian out of his shell, and their friendship bloomed into a romance, which led to the two marrying. 

-She worked in the organic sciences division and was an expert on biology and zoology. In contrast to most scientists, she was very much an outdoorswoman. Even managed to convince Julian to partake. 

-Much like her unfortunate sister-in-law, she died in childbirth... giving birth to a stillborn daughter. 

-Yeah, this shit is grim. 

Theodore Robotnik

-Third son of Gerald. Blatantly named in reference to Theodore Roosevelt, who was used as a visual reference for Eggman.

-Basically a professional beancounter who later inherited Robotnik CORPS. He chose to stick with his original name even after the ARK incident, and struggled to keep Robotnik CORPS afloat in the immediate aftermath of the incident. 

-Set up a trust fund for his son Ivo, and tried his best to raise him to be a contributing member of society. 

-Sufficed to say, that didn’t work. If he’s still alive, he has a REALLY tense relationship with his son. 

-Named his son after his older brother as a passive-aggressive act of spite for abandoning the ‘Robotnik’ name. 

Dolores Robotnik 

-Mother of Ivo. She was a professor of chemistry who decided to put her career on hold in order to be homemaker. 

-Was much closer to her son than Theodore was, and often wound up having to play peacemaker between the two. ESPECIALLY during Ivo’s tumultous teenage years. 

-Sufficed to say she is not exactly pleased with how he turned out, assuming she’s still alive even. 

Dr. Ivo “Eggman” Robotnik

-HE IS THE EGGMAN. HE’S GOT THE MASTER PLAN! Really, do you NEED to know any more? 

-Well, okay, you do. He was born very shortly before the ARK incident and never knew his grandfather. 

-His childhood wasn’t horrible, but it was rough in areas due to his high intelligence making things more difficult for him than they should of be. Loads of disagreements with his dad over pursuing science. Spent years plagued by the derogatory name of ‘Eggman’ due to his weight problems. 

-You know how you fantasize about ruling the world as a kid? He never really left that stage of things. 

-He initially worked as a research scientist in the fields of AI and energy. During the Great War he was approached by GUN to develop weapons for them. His research would go on to form the basis of the robotic soldiers later used by them in the Robotnik war. 

-Began his plot to take over Mobius during his time there, and secretly began to appropriate resources and machines to build a hidden base on the distant South Island. Eventually his schemes were discovered by GUN, but he fled. 

-While his cousin conquered portions of Mobius elsewhere, Eggman began his long term Death Egg scheme as a means of conquering Mobius in one fell swoop with the aid of the Chaos Emeralds. 

-You can guess how it goes from here- he encounters Sonic on South Island and in the Scrap Brain Zone and is defeated, thus setting the tone for MANY other defeats in the future. He eventually took on the name ‘Dr. Eggman’ as a way to differentiate himself from his cousin, and to make the insult that dogged his life into a name to be feared ala ‘Penguin’. 

-When his cousin Julian was seemingly killed and the Robotnik Empire in dissarray, Eggman started new bids to take over the world. He established the Metropolis Zone as his ‘capital city’ and founded the Egg Army to help supplement his Badnik Horde. The Eggman Empire now exists as a terrorist army at the beck and call of Dr. Eggman, though he’s still got a ways to go. 

-Has four sons by three different women. Slut. 

???

-Haven’t got a name for her yet. She was a random girl that a college age Ivo knocked up, which putty much put an end to her collegiate ambitions. She gave birth to two sons, one of whom she bitterly named ‘Ivan’ as a reminder of his origins after failing to get child support out of her babydaddy. She re-married and is currently leading a comfortable enough life. Humors her son because she knows it annoys his biological father. 

Ivan Eggman

-The oldest of Eggman’s sons. In his mid 30s or so. Scientifically gifted, as his father was. 

-Has numerous, numerous issues pertaining to his stepfather, a hard and strict man with little toleration for nonsense.

-Idolizes his biological father and desperately wants to be acknowledged by him, even changing his original surname to ‘Eggman’. Eggman the 1st was NOT amused. 

-Eventually founded a company, Eggman Industries, and grew rich rapidly. Settled by the Bygone Islands where he pursues life as a ‘villain’ now, though really he’s more like a public nuisance than anything. 

-Honestly he’s basically living a ‘second childhood’ of sorts using his scientific know-how and riches, and has vowed to one day impress his father and earn his acknowledgement. As you can imagine, it is.... not working out at all, given that he’s even more of a goober than his pop. 

-Ironically, he isn’t naturally bald- he SHAVES his head. 

Steve  

-Yeah, he ain’t a robot here- Steve is the organic, younger (by about a minute) twin brother of Ivan. 

-Utterly unconcerned with science or any of that jazz. He’s basically a bohemian beach bum, complete with californian accent- he spends much of his time surfing and earning cash from side jobs. 

-Really mellow and easy-going, and doesn’t really dwell on stuff. 

-Utter himbo. 

Mrs. Robotnik 

- Ex-Wife of Ivo Robotnik. Haven’t given it too much thought, but she and Ivo met while working in acadamia, and eventually married. 

-Initially the relationship was pretty solid, and they even had a child together. However things swiftly deteriorated between the two as Ivo’s immaturity and increasing anger at the world strained their relationship, along with him being a lousy parent to their son. She eventually divorced his ass. 

-After going through a rough patch with her son, she has begun to re-connect with him after his years a delinquent, and now happily supports his endeavors. 

Ivo Robotnik Jr. 

-Middle son of Dr. Eggman. Had a nonexistant relationship with his father while growing up, which combined with the divorce eventually turned him into a juvenile delinquent. 

-He roamed with a biker gang for a while, and prefers to be called ‘Junior’ rather than ‘Ivo’. 

-Fell in with Breezie for a while, the both of them unaware of the other’s connection to Eggman. They eventually went their separate ways once Junior began to turn over a new leaf. He still carries a torch for her, though is painfully aware it’d never work out. Their relationship is... complicated, these days.

-Has since become a software security engineer, making a living providing Anti-Eggman/Robotnik software to companies. 

Lindsey Thorndyke

-A famed actress. She and Ivo had a drunken tryst at a wrap party where he’d been invited to act as a consultant on scientific accuracy. To avoid scandal she informed her husband, and they passed off the baby as their own. 

-What more do you want. Its LINDSEY. 

Chris Thorndyke 

-The youngest son of Ivo Robotnik. Spent much of his life completely unaware of his true parentage. 

-Eh, what can I say, I kind like the theory of him actually being a Robotnik in some capacity or the next. 

-When he was a boy, he befriended Sonic and his friends and even hosted them during the days when Eggman’s schemes for global conquest caused him to haunt Station Square for a while. 

-Admired his grandfather Chuck and pursued science to be like him, studying physics and engineering. 

-Thanks to his mom he’s something of a film buff. 

-In college he learned the truth of his heritage. This has put a strain on his relationship with his parents.

Francis Kintobor 

-The youngest of Gerald’s sons. Pursued a career as a schoolteacher. While he changed his name in the aftermath of the ARK incident as his older brother Ivo had, he chose to make a small joke at his brother’s expense over the ludicrousness of the name change by naming his own son ‘Ovi Kintobor’. 

-Named after Francis Mao, aka That Guy Who Made That One Comic Adaptation From 1991. 

Elizabeth Kintobor

-Dr. Ovi Kintobor’s mother. A career veterinarian with a strong love of animals. That’s about it. 

Ovi Kintobor 

- Grew up on Westside Island, among Mobians. Had a pretty happy and contented childhood, and like many of the other various members of the Kintobor/Robotnik clan developed a pronounced interest and skill in science at a young age. 

-Developed a particular interest in researching Chaos Emeralds.

-A Concientious Objector, he served as a medic during the Great War.

-Deeply, deeply shamed by the actions of his more notorious cousins, he has essentially hidden himself from the world to pursue his research and evade their notice, while helping against them in whatever way he can. 

-Has secretly transported people threatened by his cousins to safer places, and once caused a mass sabotage of their respective robotic forces through the ‘Nicenik Virus’. 

-An ally of the Freedom Fighters. 

-Deeply distrusts GUN (which frankly isn’t a bad call).

-Bit of a hippy, but really is a genuinely nice guy who wants to help others through science. 

-In some villages he is known as ‘Mr. Tinker’.