castles made of sand.

rubbing at his eyes, flynn can’t help the small smile that grows on his face even amongst the concern pooling in his stomach. “glad i could be of service,” he responds, voice quiet into the phone. “do you need me to come over?” it’s an offer that he genuinely means - willing to sneak into the castle if he has to to be there to comfort rapunzel in person if that was what she needed. he knew how hard it could be waking up from a nightmare, having a few of his own from time to time, and for someone like rapunzel he could only imagine how much worse it probably was for her, the person who had spent the first eighteen years of her life with gothel. @punzdrop

while it’s nice to hear the compliments, things that flynn already knows about himself (or well, maybe not the brilliant part - that was definitely up for debate and there were plenty of people in his life to remind him of that fact), it does rise suspicion almost right away. stopping to turn away from his mirror and look over at naveen, he waits for a moment to see if he’d continue. when he doesn’t, that’s when flynn knows something’s up. “what do you want?” he asks, not with any harshness - mostly just confusion as he was unsure what exactly he of all people could offer to naveen. but feeling pretty certain that his friend was trying to butter him up for some kind of request. @naveenmaldonia

when eric is the one that thinks an idea is about to be bad, that’s how you know it’s going to be rough. out of all his friends eric is one of the most responsible and usually filled the role of being the voice of reason when either flynn or naveen come up with terrible plans. so it’s a bit alarming to hear him admit that the action he’s about to take won’t go well. “are you sure this is a good idea?” he asks, not used to being the one to try to get anyone else to think things through. “like... do you really have to do this? i could try saying something instead? or we just... keep ignoring it.” that last suggestion wasn’t an option flynn should be offering, considering how upset vanellope was at taffyta and the whole situation - but it still felt like a better course of action than letting eric be the one to try to handle it all. @ohcapitans

“well yeah, we know that,” he agrees without hesitation, as if ralph’s mistakes were obvious. because well... some of them were. even if he didn’t fully know what was going on with the man at the moment, had no clue why both he and sav seemed so... off, flynn had a guess that it probably leaned more towards being his fault than hers. but he wasn’t going to mention that - not wanting to upset ralph or make things even more awkward, so instead he goes for a joke. “i mean, just look at your hair. even with all my expertise you still can’t seem to get it right. what could be graver than that?” @rclphwrecksit

“isn’t it a little late for that? where do you expect me to get mistletoe in the end of january?” he muses aloud, not taking princess’s annoyance or anger seriously in the slightest. he probably should - knowing that she has a fairly short fuse that’s far too easy to spark off - but flynn’s hardly concerned in the moment. “you gotta come up with a season appropriate comeback, princess. it doesn’t hit the same outside of christmas.” @princess-morbuckss

Unblinking, Ralph stares at Flynn the entire time he tells the story, trying to wrap his mind around it. He’s not all that surprised that it’s something Flynn would find funny; it seems like a harmless enough prank and would certainly give him an acting challenge other than being a tree. What he can’t quite wrap his head around is the fact that anyone would buy it. Especially two years in a row. “They were into it?” he repeats with a frown, shooting a glare in Prescott’s direction. “You need me to go over there and have a chat with him?” His fists, clenching once more, make it quite obvious how that chat would go. Sober he was always on his best behaviour. After a few drinks he required much less convincing. It’s not that he thinks Flynn needs protecting, his history proving that he’s more than capable of taking care of himself. But with his position somewhere between an older brother and a father figure, he can’t help but feel a little protective. But it’s clear that Flynn is just trying to have fun, no harm done, and with a heavy sigh he tries to loosen up. “You couldn’t just get the lead in a school play and prove you’re a master actor that way?” he asks with a low chuckle, shaking his head.

Seeing Ralph turn to glare over at his professor, Flynn realizes maybe he should have lied. Come up with some excuse about how they were talking about the next year’s productions for the college theater or something else. Because... this whole situation was kind of weird and the more he thought about it from an outsiders point of view, the more he was starting to realize that. “No, no, no. It’s fine. Like I said - they don’t know I’m me. They think I’m some mysterious stranger, remember?” It doesn’t excuse being into someone obviously that much younger than them, but Flynn hopes that it’ll be enough to keep Ralph from actually heading over to talk with the drama teacher. He thinks it might have worked when the man lets out a sigh and throws a joke his way. “Hey now. I’ve proven myself as a master actor since high school. No one else can pull off a tree like I can.”

when flynn questions what exactly it is ralph did sav opens her mouth, ready to barrel into an entire spiel about her alcohol influenced jealousy. but instead she settles on something vague solely because she doesn’t have the energy to go into the whole story with flynn right now, all she needs is to make it known that she was mad — a decision that would have been made for different reasons if she was sober. “be the fucking worst.” she grumbles. “i dont fucking care that his hair looks nice.” she snaps. she’d never really seen the big deal about Ralph’s hair but flynn was insistent and she wasn’t one to argue. “points for what? he’s still the fucking worst no matter how good he looks.”

it’s an answer flynn had expected, but not one that made anything clearer. “okay... but what exactly is he doing to be the fucking worst?” he questions again, thinking maybe asking twice or wording a bit different might get a real answer out of sav. it’s wishful thinking, though, but it’s not like he’s got much else to go off of. a glance back over in ralph’s direction shows that he really isn’t doing much of anything - just talking with belle. which was a little weird probably, but it’s not like flynn doesn’t still keep in touch with some of his own exes so he can’t really say anything. 

Whatever Ralph was expecting, it wasn’t the explanation he got. “He’s what?” Ralph snaps, looking over at Flynn incredulously. Fists immediately clenched, it’s a good thing Flynn has the good sense to quickly try to add some sort of further explanation or Ralph, who hasn’t fought anyone in years, would be breaking that streak now. Flynn isn’t a good anymore, certainly old enough to take care of himself, but it won’t stop Ralph from jumping in if he needs to, always ready to look out for anyone he cares about. Relaxing as Flynn tries to explain it further, he frowns, trying to figure out exactly what he’s talking about. “That doesn’t explain anything,” Ralph sighs, reaching for his drink and taking a much needed sip. “You have to give me more here.”

Flynn hadn’t really wanted to go into further detail about his long term prank on the drama professor, knowing it makes him seem like a bit of an asshole, but after seeing the instant reaction Ralph had it seemed like he didn’t really have much other choice. “Remember last time there was a masquerade? Well, I went up to Pantos, planning on just saying hello, but he didn’t recognize me. So, I introduced myself as you know, Eugene. Thought he’d realize by the end of the night who I was, but he never did. He was... into it, which is weird, I know. But it’s kind of funny too, right?” he explains, raising his shoulders in a shrug before continuing. “Turns out he was waiting for Eugene to show up again tonight. So how could I disappoint?” Saying it all now, Flynn suddenly realizes how... creepy it kind of is, on the professor’s end. Before now he’d just been focused on the fun of the prank that he hadn’t really thought about what it said about Prescott.

“Their party at their own house,” Naveen points out, just in case Flynn has forgotten about that little detail. “You really think they’re gonna bail to what? Go hang out upstairs.” One can hope, if that’s what it will take to get Flynn to loosen up and have fun for the evening, but even he knows just how unlikely it is for that to happen. With Flynn not drinking and Eric trying to be on his best behaviour, it looks like Naveen is on his own tonight. Not how he would have chosen to spend his first party back in his own body, but he’s always been known to make a party out of any situation. “I’ll tell you what,” Naveen grins, finishing the drink in his hand and grabbing another one from the tray of a passing waiter. “I’ll drink enough for the both of us. Anything stupid you would usually do, I’ll do it instead and you can live vicariously through me.” 

Breathing out a heavy and dramatic sigh, Flynn had to admit that his friend had a point. The chances of the King and Queen leaving the party early were practically zero. Something he already knew, but had hoped maybe Naveen could convince him otherwise and give him an excuse to let loose just the slightest. But a glance over to the other side of the room showed that the royals were indeed still around and likely not going anywhere. His head turns back to the other boy though with a less than impressed look once he proposes his idea. “I don’t think I should be encouraging you to be any stupider than you normally are,” he comments, though a smirk begins to grow on his face after a moment. “But I guess I can’t stop you either. Just don’t get yourself turned back into a frog.”

Prescott would have been lying if they said they hadn’t been waiting for something all night. Or, more so, someone. Someone who, based on passive searching, had only seemed to exist one night long, long ago. That’s why, when the mysterious stranger made his way over with flutes in hand, they almost had to catch their breath. But, they were an actor, and they could maintain chalance if it was the last thing they did. “Eugene.” Dutifully, they reached out for the glass, swirling the liquid in the glass after. Was that something people did with bubbly? Prescott was not one to drink in public settings, lest their students think less of them, but today was an exception. Besides, hopefully they’d all be too distracted to care (as they had been last year). “So we do.” They lifted the glass up for a cheers before drinking any, lips fighting the upturn of a relieved smile. “I was starting to think I’d made you up.”

Watching Prescott swirl the glass in their hand, Flynn kept his face neutral despite the way he was losing his shit on the inside. Oh this was too easy. Truly too damn easy. He would have thought that at some point over the past year that they would figure it out - or at least get a little bit suspicious. Instead it seemed that his professor truly believed him to be Eugene again, a man that seemingly only ever came out during a masquerade event. “So you do remember me,” he comments with a chuckle, as if he’s surprised. “I’d thought after I never heard from you again that you must have forgotten.” A lie - Flynn knew exactly why Prescott had never been able to get in contact with his mystery masquerade man, but this line was the perfect way to make it seem as if he were interested and had been waiting for this moment just as long as the professor had. Which in a way, Flynn had been eagerly anticipating this second run in, but for far different reasons than theirs.

Parties were exhausting –however, Rapunzel loved the hustle and bustle that surrounded the castle when her parents were planning them and the incredible payoff of seeing it all come together. Of course, parties also meant that her mother and father shuttled her around to rub elbows with all the dignitaries, which meant Rapunzel didn’t exactly get to hang out with her friends. When Flynn swept her up for a dance, she could have kissed him in gratitude (and probably for another reason as well). “If you call schmoozing with a duke and duchess fun, then absolutely,” she laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.” 

“Sure you will,” he reassures her with a grin, still keeping his focus on the dance and ensuring he doesn’t somehow mess it up. If they were anywhere else Flynn wouldn’t care as much, but with her parents potentially watching he needed to seem at least somewhat impressive. That was how he’d felt the entire night, on his best behavior for everything (minus the pranks on Prescott) and hardly even drinking - no way was he going to ruin it now. “Give it a few more years and this’ll all come second nature.”

“It’s their party so probably,” Naveen shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. Most nights he would consider at least trying to stay sober in solidarity with his best friend, but after missing out on countless parties to being a frog, he’s not about to sit this one out. “If you’re looking for someone to give you good advice I we both know I’m not that person.” He’s never exactly seen the big deal in trying to impress a girl’s parents anyway. “What’s the dumbest thing you could do if you just had one drink?” It should be a rhetorical question, because with them it never just stops at one drink, but Eric isn’t here to talk any sense in them and Naveen has never exactly been the moral compass of the group.

“Yeah - exactly. It’s their party, so they can leave when they want,” he counters, though he knows there’s no point. Naveen, for once in his life, is right and Flynn knows it. Even before the question was fully out his mouth - he’d known the answer. Sighing heavily, he glances over at his friend and the drink in his hand again. “And we both also know the answer is a lot of things.” Besides, he’d already had one drink with Prescott - allowing himself to have any more would just be a setting himself up for potential disaster. Which any other night he wouldn’t really care about - but with Rapunzel’s parents around (the fucking King and Queen of the island) he knew he couldn’t afford to cause any type of scene or issues.

“Oooh, what a burn,” Paz hissed, faux offended at the title she had done plenty to earn. Although, at this point, it didn’t seem to hold up quite so well and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Who knew, maybe having someone around who claimed they liked you actually helped you be a better person - it had certainly been a change to how her parents treated her. Laughing a little, the blonde sipped on her champagne, not able to disagree with his claim. “Yeah, I know.” she quipped with a shake of her head before sighing. “Okay, not my best work but I hear the money’s pretty good and don’t you need that?” 

“About as bad as little orphan Flynn,” he agrees with a shrug, lips twisted in an amused smirk. It was strange, being able to joke around with Pacifica like this - especially after all the years of bullying and tormenting she’d done to not only himself but others that he knew. But Flynn knew it’d be hypocritical of him to judge anyone else for their past - besides, none of the things Paz ever threw at him ever hurt too much. His skin much too think for that. “It is good money. But even if I wanted to work it - Rapunzel never would have let me.”