I don't own Tangled, Brave, Rise of the Guardians, or How to Train Your Dragon! End/AN/
"Mum! I'm home!" Merida tossed her backpack onto the end table by the door, letting out a sigh and popping her back. As she walked towards the kitchen, she heard her mum's voice echo from the laundry room,
"Merida, don't get into the chips; eat something healthy for snack."
"Yes, Mum," Merida said, getting into the fridge and looking for something. An apple would do nicely; she chomped into it, and nearly slammed into her mum as she turned to leave the kitchen.
"Merida! Ladies don't chomp apples like horses. Close your lips around it," her mum said, laundry basket heaped with clothes on her hip. Colorful pj's marked it as the children's laundry, as well as the utter lack of girly clothes. That was Merida's mum's department.
Well, more 'womanly' than 'girly', but still.
Merida groaned, but said, "Yes Mum." How one was supposed to eat an apple quietly, she wasn't sure, but she did her best at it.
"How was school today?" Her mum put the laundry basket on the counter, standing still as if planning on standing there for a while. Her neat green sweater went nicely with her brown pants, matching her green earrings and the silver bracelet around her wrist, as if she had carefully coordinated the outfit in advance. She probably had.
"Oh, you know, some of this, some of that," Merida said, and her mother winced as she took another bite of the apple.
"Merida, don't be vague." Her mum began to sort through the clothes, as if looking for something in particular.
"I hung out with Punzy at lunch, I got an A on my Biology quiz, and I went to the bathroom at least three times," Merida said, rolling her eyes.
"Ladies don't roll their eyes, Merida. Don't give me that attitude," her mother said, but she didn't seem particularly forceful with it. She fished something out of the basket, something fairy blue and embroidered.
"Mum, what's that?" Merida stopped mid-bite, eyeing the thing like it was a mutant with three heads. If it was supposed to go on her, then there was going to be a problem.
"This is for you. I saw it on sale at the store, and I thought it would look nice on you," Merida's mum said, holding it up. It was worse in full, unobstructed view, the embroidery all in flowers around the edges, puff princess sleeves, and a clearly fitted look to it.
"Mum, you can't be serious!" Merida said, burying a hand in her hair. She would have run it through, but her hair didn't often allow that.
"I'm not trying to make you wear it on a day-to-day basis, Merida, so you don't need to act like I'm torturing you. This is for the dinner with your father's boss and co-workers; you shouldn't look like a ruffian for a nice occasion." Her mum turned the dress a bit, a fond expression on her face, like the dress was a friend who'd agreed to make Merida do what she wanted.
Merida groaned, but the look from her mother shushed any protests.
"Besides," she said, "This dinner is very important. Your father's boss helps decide a big scholarship for science majors; a good impression won't hurt, will it?"
"I don't want to go to college," Merida grumbled. When would her mother figure out that all she wanted to do was almost live outside? Free, with fresh air and no stuffy offices or classrooms.
"You are going to college, and that's final," Her mother said, voice a bit more fierce than usual. She seemed to calm herself, adding, "You'll thank me later. You can't just skip college, Merida."
"Yes, Mum," Merida said, heading out of the kitchen. Her every plan centered on skipping college, but she didn't need to tell her mum that again.
"Merida! Pick up your backpack and put your things away! A lady doesn't leave a mess."
Merida stalked back into the room, and got her backpack. "Yes, Mum."
She couldn't wait to move out.
"Mother! Mother, you'll never believe how things went in art class today," Rapunzel bubbled over, throwing her book bag on the couch and twirling around.
"Yes, dear?" Her mother looked up from the computer, where she was typing out a document. A coffee cup sat next to her, with a bunch of roses in the shape of a heart on it.
"I finished my project, you know, the picture of the dancing fairy, and the teacher said it was almost perfect!" She beamed, her arms behind her back.
"That's wonderful, dear!" her mother said, looking over from her work with a slightly tired smile. "Come here, sweetheart."
Rapunzel hopped over, sitting down next to her mother's desk chair. Her mother began to stroke her head, running her hands through her hair; Rapunzel untied her hair so that her mother's hands could move more freely.
"I'm so glad you're doing so well at school; I was worried that the separation would bother you." Her mother's hands felt wonderful going through her smooth hair.
"I told you I could do it!" Rapunzel beamed again, cross-legged and tipping her head back to look at her mother.
"Yes, I know, sweetheart," her mother replied, still stroking her head like she was some pet, "I just worry about you. It's been different without you home."
"I know, but I've been learning so many things about everything!" Rapunzel said, not mentioning the things she learned that her mother probably wouldn't be so glad about her knowing.
"I know, dear." Her mother's hands left her hair, and she kissed the top of her head. "You know you're my everything, don't you, tater tot?"
"And you're mine," Rapunzel replied, used to this conversation.
"I love you," her mother said.
"I love you more," Rapunzel grinned.
"I love you most."
Hiccup had gone home after boxing practice.
It was an empty place, big enough for three but only filled with two. It was also fairly cluttered, full of manly things, and with a boxing dummy sitting in the garage. He was expected to practice with it every day, and he did, but today he passed it by.
He slumped heavily into the seat by the table in the kitchen, letting out a sigh. He pulled his chemistry book out of his backpack, flipping it open to the current chapter and getting out a highlighter.
His father wouldn't be home for the next couple hours.
Jack had hiked back home, entering the empty apartment with his key. His mother had drilled into him the importance of always having the key, because she often wasn't home, and she didn't want him to be hungry or some such.
She'd often commented that he looked almost homeless, with his hoody that he wore everyday, the old flip-flops he stuck to even when it was cold, and the pants that exposed his ankles, but it was in the concerned, loving way that he was used to.
He would never tell her, but he didn't want her to spend money on him. He had basically what he needed, and he knew money was tight.
So, as he got inside, and threw himself down on the couch, and rubbed at his cold toes.
The rumbling laugh of his next door neighbor, a man known as North, came through the walls, and he wondered if they were having another get together for their level of the apartment building.
His mother and he were never invited; they'd never gotten to socialize with his mother, and he was just a teenage boy and easy to overlook.
He walked over to the fridge, and looked for yesterday's mac'n'cheese.
It was a quick heat-up job, and a flurry of raucous laughter continued to come through the walls.
Then there was a knock at the door; Jack flip-flopped over, and peered through the peephole.
It was the Australian neighbor, Bunnymund. For someone with such a weird name, he certainly acted like he was a bigshot.
Jack swung open the door, grinning. "Yeah?"
"Stop putting my door decorations on the floor," Bunnymund snapped. He was tall, with evidence of muscles and the look of an outdoorsman.
Jack raised his eyebrows, saying, "What makes you think it's me?"
This is was some of the only fun he ever had. Bunnymund would put up some cutesy decorations on his door, and Jack would take them down. It was like a private game, something that gave him a thing to do while he nursed his loneliness.
"Who else could it be? There are no other kids in this apartment building!" Bunnymund looked very irritable.
"Mhm, well, maybe North has decided he doesn't like you...?" Jack couldn't keep the mischievious sparkle out of his eyes, and Bunnymund could see that.
"I'm going to talk to your mum one of these days," he grumbled.
"If you can catch her," Jack said, knowing this was a familiar threat. He raised an eyebrow, saying, "Is that all?"
Bunnymund shook his head, murmuring something about someone deserving a spanking. "Don't. Touch. Them."
"Got it," Jack said with a grin.
Bunnymund left then.
Those decorations were going down first thing in the morning, Jack thought to himself.
/AN/ Gah, I hope it's okay. I've been inspired to continue work on this story; it's just a matter of unknotting all the plots, I guess.
Hope y'all liked it! Expect more!