#SOMEONE ASK ME ABOUT THESE GUYS . i need to explain this to someone who knows nothing about megathrust

[thinkinonsense]

Sweet Temptations.

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, inexperienced reader, darkish!logan

a/n: hi! sorry i've been gone so long! i have plenty of stuff in the works but for now here's this. i'm working on making a mini-series of dark!logan x inexperienced!reader so i hope everyone enjoys! <3

to think, logan almost went out to the bar tonight. almost left to find a one night stand or come home and fuck his hand. tonight could've had so many different outcomes but luckily, he ended up with the best one.

there's a light knock on his bedroom door. he knew it had to have been you since everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away for the night. logan obviously wasn't interested in going and you were busy working on an experiment in the laboratory.

in all reality, logan just wanted an excuse to stay here alone with you overnight. ever since he joined the x-men and met you down in the lab in that cute white coat and pretty smile, he's had a crush on you.

"hi, logan." you smile softly when he opens his door.

"hey, dollface. you need something?" he asks, leaning against his door frame and eyeing that short little nightgown of yours.

"can we talk?"

"sure."

the two of you walk into logan's room and sit on the end of his bed. you sit up on your knees, facing him. he can tell that something is on your mind but you're unsure on if you should confide in him or not.

"is everything alright?" he asks, growing concerned.

you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

"whatcha wanna talk about then, sweets?"

logan's large hand rubs your knee softly, almost coaxing the words out of you.

"would you do me a big favor?" you ask, avoiding his hazel gaze.

"of course."

there's slight hesitation. you were afraid of logan's reaction to your request. after a deep breath, you remind yourself that it's just logan. the same logan who trains with you every morning, the same logan who plays with your hair when he's board, the same logan who praises you for all your hard work in the laboratory. there was nothing to be afraid of.

"c-can you take my virginity?"

the question almost killed logan. he though he had died and gone to heaven. you finally look at him with a twinkle in your eyes and he feels the need to adjust the tent growing in his pants.

"where'd this idea come from, sweetheart?"

"well, i was seeing a guy a while ago who acted really weird when i told him i was still a virgin then when i told storm and jean, they told me that if i'm ready to do it, than it should be with someone i trust." you explain so innocently to him. "i just figured since you've always been so gentle with me and i trust you so, i was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind."

never in his wildest dreams could logan have imagined this happening. you sitting pretty on his bed, practically begging him to take your virginity. god, logan couldn't even remember the last time he was with a virgin. must've been decades ago.

"that's real sweet, dollface. 'f course i'll do it." he says, watching your smile grow with excitement. "first i need to know what you've already done."

"i've kissed while sitting in someone's lap, given a hickey twice... maybe three times? some nights i'll rub myself against one of my pillows."

even though he knew the answer, he had to ask,"ever fingered yourself?"

"no." you shake your head, almost making logan moan at just the thought of being the first person to do that to you.

"want to try it?"

"s-sure but i thought we were gonna–"

"we will." logan assures. "need to get you loosened up first if you want me to fit inside of you."

a small gasp exists your lips, making him chuckle. logan leans, testing the waters to see how you kiss. he's a bit shocked by how you pull him closer to deepen it. you moan into his mouth while your hands roam his hair. he sits you in his lap and lets you grind yourself on top of him, showing him what you know.

"let's see if you're nice and wet for me." logan hums, lifting up your nightgown and feeling the wet spot over your underwear. "very good, dollface."

without thinking, you let out a tiny moan next to his ear because of his praise. he can't help but pull your head from its hiding spot in his neck to look at you.

"you like when i tell you how good you're being for me?" he ask, watching your face contort as your hips keep moving. one of his hands rests on your waist, stopping you from moving. "c'mon, you can tell me."

"mhm..." you nod. "love when you praise me."

suddenly, your back is pressed flat against his sheets as he kisses all down your body. leaving little marks here and there until he reaches the waist band of your pretty pink underwear.

"did you wear these just for me, princess?" he asks, placing a kiss right over the cotton covering your button.

"y-you said i looked p-pretty in pink."

as the words stumble out of your mouth, logan feels a warmth spread across his heart. a couple months ago, you were wearing a new pink dress and as logan passed you by, he mentioned how pretty you looked in the color. it meant a lot to you.

"you still do." he says. "can i take these off of you, baby?"

you nod, lifting your hips a little to help him. logan tosses the pink cotton somewhere behind him. lifting up the nightgown to your tummy, eyes glued to the spot in between your legs.

"didn't think you could get any prettier." logan mumbles to himself.

his intense gaze made you feel a bit vulnerable, trying to close your legs but his large hands stop you.

"don't hide from me, princess." he says, capturing your attention. " 'm gonna make you feel good."

logan carefully drags his thumb through your slit, collecting the arousal and circling it around your button. the feather like touch sends your head back and whimpers to fall from your lips. gently, logan pushes his middle finger past your velvet walls, groaning once you clench around him.

"atta girl, princess." he smirks watching you swallow up his finger. "takin' it so good."

logan watches in awe as your head fall back and the arch in your back. slowly he inches his face closer and licks a thick stripe up your fold before sucking softly on your button. you feel logan muffle 'fuck' against you, only resulting in more arousal to spill out of you.

"o-oh, logan." you moan, hips chasing his tongue feverishly.

since this was your first time, logan went easy on you, not making you work for your orgasm. he feels your cunt clench down on his one finger as it hits deep inside of you until you are seeing stars. with logan's other free hand, he paws at your tit and rolls it in his palm.

"need m-more!" you whimper with glossy eyes and lips. "p-please, lo."

in an attempt to give you what you want, logan struggles to hit another finger inside of you. he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this type of heaven but god, was he thankful for it.

"i can't, sweetheart." he groans, kissing your hip bone as he speeds up the finger inside of you. "you're too tight for two of my fingers. there's no way i'll be able to fit inside of you tonight."

before you could whine in protest, this indescribable wave of euphoria washes over you. smooth silky legs wrap tightly around logan's head. thighs covers his ears, blocking out the sweet sounds you were making. logan goes back to sloppily making out with your cunt until you weakly pull him off and drag him up to your lips, tasting your own release on his tongue.

"thanks, lo." you smile in a daze at him.

"anytime." he says. "i think you'll need another lesson soon though if you want to take all of me. do you want that, princess?"

he could feel your heart rate increase eagerly. you blush intensely and avoid his gaze as you nod.

"alright." he chuckles darkly. "but first, you gotta show me how you get off on your pillow."

[southbynorth994]

I had no idea how my life was about to change when I asked that girl out on a simple date. Her name was Isabella. I had seen her around town, her dark hair cascading like a waterfall down her back, and her eyes—her eyes were a perfect shade of deep brown, mysterious yet warm, like a rich cup of coffee. She seemed different from the usual crowd, more reserved, but her smile could light up a room.

When she said yes to my invitation to dinner, I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world. We chose a quiet, cozy Italian restaurant on the edge of town, away from the hustle and bustle. It was the kind of place that felt like a hidden gem, with candlelight flickering on every table and a soft hum of Italian opera in the background. We talked for hours. She was charming, funny, and intelligent, and I was captivated by every word she said. She seemed so ordinary, in the best way possible, and I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that I might have just met someone truly special.

As the evening came to an end, I walked her to her car, a sleek black Audi. She thanked me for the night, her eyes sparkling, and I felt like the world was at my feet. I promised to call her again, to arrange another date soon, and she smiled, nodding in agreement.

But that’s when things took a strange turn.

The next morning, I was at work when I got a phone call from an unknown number. I almost didn’t pick up, but something told me to answer.

“Is this Brian Holden?” a low, gravelly voice asked.

“Yeah, who is this?”

“My name is Vito. Vito Romano. We need to talk.”

I froze. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Romano. That was the name of one of the most dangerous mafia families in the city. I had heard whispers about them. Stories of violence, power, and influence. And Vito Romano? He was the patriarch—the boss.

“I… I don’t understand,” I stammered. “What do you want from me?”

“I think you know,” Vito said, his voice calm but chilling. “You took my daughter out last night.”

I felt my blood run cold. My stomach dropped. Isabella was his daughter? The girl I had taken on a date?

“I didn’t know,” I said quickly, trying to explain myself. “I swear, I didn’t know. I thought she was just a normal—”

“I don’t care what you thought,” Vito interrupted. “What matters now is how you handle this situation. My daughter was not just any girl, and you will treat her with respect, or there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

“Yes… yes, I understand,” I stammered.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Vito spoke again.

“I’ll be at your place in an hour. Be ready to speak to me.”

I hung up the phone, my heart racing. I couldn’t believe it. I had just accidentally asked the mafia boss’s daughter on a date. What had I gotten myself into?

An hour later, a black SUV pulled up outside my apartment. My doorbell rang, and I opened it to find two imposing men in dark suits standing on my doorstep. One of them was holding a leather briefcase, the other had a scowl on his face. Behind them, I saw Vito himself, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a presence that made everything around him feel small.

“Brian Holden?” he asked, his voice calm but intimidating.

“Y-yes,” I replied.

“Come with me,” he said, and without waiting for an answer, he turned and started walking toward the car. The two men followed, and I had no choice but to follow as well.

We drove for what felt like forever, the tension in the car suffocating. When we arrived at a large, gated mansion, I felt like I had entered another world. Vito led me inside, his presence commanding every inch of the grand house. We sat down in a lavishly decorated room, and Vito motioned for me to take a seat.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, taking my daughter out without knowing who she is,” Vito said, his tone softening just slightly. “But I can see that you’re not the type of man who would intentionally disrespect the Romano family.”

I swallowed hard, still in disbelief.

“I… I had no idea. I swear. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Vito studied me for a long moment before nodding. “I believe you. Isabella speaks highly of you. And in this family, that counts for something.”

I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.

“So, what happens now?” I asked cautiously.

Vito smiled—a rare, approving smile. “You’ll be a part of the family, Brian. You have my blessing. But remember this: we look out for our own, and you’ll do the same. Understood?”

I nodded, my mouth dry. “Understood.”

And just like that, I found myself welcomed into the heart of the mafia—a place I never imagined I’d be, all because of a simple date with a beautiful girl.

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPTS

Too many beds

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Really nice guy who hates only you

Academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class

Divorce of convenience

Too much communication

True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)

Dating your enemy’s sibling

Lovers to enemies

Hate at first sight

Love triangle where the two love interests get together instead

Fake amnesia

Soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Strangers to enemies

Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating

Too hot to cuddle

Love interest CEO is a himbo/bimbo who runs their company into the ground

Nursing home au

[salemlunaa]

🎀 NEW IDEA: ASK CHAT GPT 🎀

ꨄ Use AI to your advantage when it comes to manifesting and shifting…

Although AI can get a little weird and scary sometimes, it’s actually such a great way to get information, motivation and inspiration all in one

Instead of hounding bloggers for the same thing all the time. Go to Chat GPT.

Now, how about i give you a few examples, let’s imagine someone called maya 𖨆

maya is having trouble because she feels like when she tries to induce the void, she always falls asleep and that’s taken away so many years from her dream life

she asks Chat GPT: “I keep falling asleep every time I try to induce the void, I feel so frustrated all the time and I need some help”

Chat GPT answers: “Hi Maya, falling asleep during void practice is common, so don’t be too hard on yourself. One way to combat this is by practicing at a time when you feel awake and alert, like in the morning or after a light exercise session. Another tip is to sit up in a comfortable position rather than lying down, as it can help you stay focused and avoid dozing off. Keep practicing with patience—it’s all part of the process!”

now let’s imagine joey 𖨆

joey is feeling frustrated because he feels like he hasn’t progressed, he’s been in the community for 2+ years and really wants his dream life

he asks: “I’m feeling so frustrated and upset, like I want to give up, I’ve been trying to induce the void and get my dream life for over 2 years, I need motivation”

Chat GPT responds; “Hi Joey, I know it’s tough, but remember that persistence is key—sometimes the journey teaches you just as much as the destination. Instead of focusing on the time passed, celebrate the fact that you’re still trying, which shows incredible resilience. Take a short break if you need to, and reconnect with why you started. Visualize your dream life vividly, and remind yourself it’s worth the effort. Progress might be closer than you think!”

now chloe 𖨆 is feeling really powerless lately, circumstances hit her hard on some days and she feels stuck, she wants to be reminded how the void is so possible and so easy and she’s so capable of it all

she asks: “Can you remind me how powerful I am? Some days circumstances hit so hard and it gets thought!! Can you explain manifesting from a logical point of view to remind me how easy it all is?”

Chat GPT responds: “Hi Chloe, let me remind you of this simple truth: you are the creator of your reality, the God of your world. From a logical point of view, everything you experience stems from your thoughts, beliefs, and focus. Circumstances are just reflections—they only hold power because you give it to them. Shift your focus, and the reflection changes effortlessly. When you truly accept that you’re the one in control, nothing can stand in your way. You’ve always had the power!”

Now you can see how well it works!! You can even use them to give you affirmations, help you with vaunts. You can be as specific as you want, trauma dump as much as you want and say whatever you want without crossing boundaries or being judged. You can use Chat GPT to script, i’ve used it so many times and it has given me so many ideas. And your script will still feel like your own, just see it as your collaborating with Chat GPT and that it you helps put your thoughts into words.

You can even use it when you’re having one of those days and just need to be reminded of the fact that you’re in charge. You can even use it for some tough love or to comfort you as you vent.

Like guys you can do so many things with this, I love Chat GPT so much we’re locked in like this:

LMFAOOO IM JOKING (or am i? 😏)

But in all seriousness, some of you need this. Flooding bloggers asks and dms with questions that they have repeated the answers to multiple times, asking things you damn well know the answer to or just asking for motivation repeatedly can take away from people who actually have a good question to ask and actually need help. Like fogging up a blogger’s inbox repeatedly venting about the 3d, or asking “hOw Do I gEt iNtO tHe VoId?” knowing damn well you know the answer to that, will prevent a blogger from noticing someone who actually has a good question that many people might also have and would actually spark an interesting discussion.

So just ask Chat GPT, it’s okay to have doubts creep in from time to time, it’s okay to need a reminder of basic things, it’s okay to forget how powerful you are sometimes, but you can literally ask Chat GPT to help you with that and it will. Instead of waiting around for bloggers to answer your dm or ask just to say the same thing, you can get actual help, and get it when you want it and how you want it.

Why don’t you ask “explain the law of assumption to me like i’m 5”

“explain the void state to me from a scientific view to help me believe”

“give me some dream body affirmations”

“i’ve been so demotivated, remind me who tf i am again”

“I’m going to come from a filthy rich family when I permashift, can you give me some £10Million+ per year jobs that my desired parents can do”

“I feel so lazy today, bully me into inducing the pure consciousness instead of procrastinating”

you don’t need to harass bloggers for these things when you can have immediate access to the answers you seek.

ꨄ 🧸🎀 Go download Chat GPT and knock yourself out!! 💋

[soniclozdplove]

MK Something came up on the mountain. Will explain during training. DO NOT BRING OUR FRIENDS! Especially Jangles! Trust me, you'll understand why when you get here. Monkey King.

MK reread the message for the 100th time, worried over the implications. Not only does Wukong rarely use the phone Mei got him, preferring to simply Astral Project any messages they need to do, but he'd never forbid their friends from joining in on training. Not since they all started training together while fighting against Azure, and Wukong had promised to not keep secrets anymore, what with the Samhadi Fire debacle. So the fact he's asking to keep it a secret is a big deal. Although, as Mei had pointed out when he showed her the message, the other monkey had never explicitly said to keep it a secret, just that he didn't want anyone except MK on the mountain for some reason, likely related to whatever he was going to tell him during training.

"Weird that he pointed out Tang in particular. Like, what did Tang of all people do to make Wukong not want him near!?"

MK didn't know. But as he flew towards the mountain he resolved to find out. The last thing he expected was to be met by a very familiar face when he landed. Or rather, four familiar faces that looked far too similar yet still different from his family to be a coincidence.

"Eeek! Demon boy!!" The Great Monk Tripitaka shrieked as he cowards behind Zu Baijie, Ao Lie, and Sha Wujing. All of them with weapons pointed towards him.

"Aye! Knock it off!" Wukong's voice roared out as he appeared in a flash of gold and red, standing between MK and the others, guarding him. "It's just my c- It's just my successor!"

The weapons immediately drop as the Pilgrims, the ACTUAL PILGRIMS from the STORIES, looked at Wukong incredulously. Zu Baije was the one to voice it.

"You!? A TEACHER!?"

"Yeah, I know!" Wukong snorted, as if hardly believing it himself, "But a lot can change in 1300 years and MK is a good kid. He deserves only the best, Piglet!"

"And... that's you?"

"No, but I'm the one he's got." Wukong's voice was flat, prompting MK to turn his attention to him. He yelped as a well placed kick hit his shin. "MK! What the heck!?"

"What have we talking about regarding self deprivation, Monkey King."

"What... I- that was for you!"

"Still applies!" MK folded his arms triumphantly as the audience began snickering at Wukong's flustered expression as he tried to find a comeback. Eventually his master concedes defeat with a chuckle, throwing his arm around MK in a side hug with a wide grin.

"Alright... well let's do introductions! Master, Ao Lie, Sha Wujing... Piglet. This is Xiaotian, or MK as he prefers, my student and successor. MK, the Pilgrims of the Great Journey... who somehow ended up here!"

"Oh wow! This is like a total dream come true!" MK was practically vibrating as he grinned, only to pause and turn to Wukong as a thought of occurred to him, Wait. Is this why you said Mr. Tang and the others shouldn't come over!?"

"Ah... yeah. That." The Monkey King scratched at his facial fur a but, looking guilty, "I have a good reason for it, MK. Jangles and the rest of these guys' next life in the reincarnation cycle. In all my years of living, I've never experienced a situation where a reincarnation has met their predecessor face to face. I wanted to be cautious in case, like, Jangles meeting Master causes the world to implode or something... again."

"Again?" Tripitaka raised a brow, glancing at Wukong with a concerned look, "Monkey, just what sort of-"

"L-look! We've have some crazy stuff happen recently, okay!? A crazy ice witch turned the mortal realm into an icicle, someone overthrew the Jade Emperor..."

"Somone did WHAT!?"

"And all of reality very nearly kinda sorta shattered when a pillar broke. MK and I managed to fix all of it."

"Yeah, we kicked monkey butt!" MK cheered along, "And only kinda got... emotional, physically, and mentally scarred along the way."

"Only kinda!?" Ao Lie tilted his head, curious, "Would any scarring at all not be considered a big deal?"

Wukong let out a laugh, slinging an arm around MK and the dragon's shoulders.

"Look, it's done and... maybe not over yet, but the main threat is passed. Let's jsut all settle down, I'll put some tea on, and we'll go from there. And maybe make a few calls to Sandy..."

That last part was muttered to himself as he herded the two into his house alongside the rest of the Pilgrims, telling them.not to mind the mess. After all, he shares the place with a bunch of wild monkeys and was still in the middle of cleaning up after Azure.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Second Chances

A/n: first time writing for Rip Wheeler, hope to write more for him

I started this months ago and just finished but I hope it’s good :)

Warnings: implied smut, religious trauma, Beth and Rip aren’t together anymore(love Beth but it couldn’t work for the idea 😔), abuse, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

He looks so pouty and cute I can’t 🥺

~October 15th, 6:37 pm~

"You got a spare room, don't ya, Rip?" John's gruff voice came over the phone, voice wavering through heavy breaths.

"Yeah, why?" Rip asked, he'd just been making himself a quick dinner, body already aching for the sanctity of bed and rest.

"I'll explain later, just get it ready." John hung up before Rip could say anything more.

~7:05 am~

There was an old abandoned shed farther away from the main house, way over a few fields. It once served a purpose but now just lay, holding a few tools that no one had ever bothered to retrieve, there wasn't enough reason behind it anyway.

However, John had been passing by it the past few months with loose cattle around and kept hearing noise coming from it. At first he didn't pay much attention to it, it was most likely just some animals that had taken it over to hide away from the cooling weather, but he wanted to check it out when the sounds started getting stranger.

"Kayce," he called to his youngest son, "I want to take you with me to check out the shed up North of here." He said.

Kayce was with his wife, Monica, and son, Tate. They were having breakfast together, Tate was going off about something and Monica was listening closely, Kayce had been as well until his father came over to him.

"Up North?" He repeated. "Why? That thing’s been here longer than me, never needed to check on it before."

John sucked his teeth and shrugged. "Just come with me later, alright?" Kayce agreed, he had nothing else to do. Nothing to do with the ranch, anyway.

They couldn't head off right away, things needed to get done with the horses and such, everyone had chores.

~4:45 pm~

The two hadn't been able to leave much earlier, just getting on their horses to head out. Kayce didn't mind leaving earlier, he'd thought they'd leave later but this way he figured he'd still be able to tuck Tate in with Monica.

They arrived at the shed and sure enough those noises were back, only this time there was a light seeping through the cracks of the old wood.

Not wanting to risk getting caught they tied their horses up further away to trees, walking through the overgrown grass lit up by the setting sun, it cast a golden glow over the already yellowing field.

There was definitely someone inside, someone doing something and clinking shit together. They drew their guns as they neared the door facing into the trees.

John kicked it open, whoever was in there jumped and dropped something. "Hey-hey! Who the hell're you?!" It was a man yelling from inside. "Show yourselves to me, you crazy fucks!" Kayce gave John a worried look.

John peered in and saw the guy, scrawny fellow, shaved head, it didn't seem to be by his own fruition with how choppy it was. His clothes were tattered and stained, eyes bugging, he was clearly on something; what, they weren't sure, but they couldn't risk anything.

Kayce took the first step in, gun aimed at the man just in case. John followed shortly after and looked around while Kayce kept the man against a wall, hands in the air defensively.

"Cooking meth, you're cooking meth on my land?!" John yelled, making his way over to the man in a few short strides, raising his fist and punching him square in the face and knocking him on his ass.

There was a second thud, it didn't come from Kayce or John, not even the addict. No, this one came a second later from somewhere else.

In the corner of the shed was a smaller closet, it had been used to keep shovels and such. It wasn't small but big wasn't a good word for it, not by a longshot.

"I'll deal with this, you check on that." John said to Kayce, taking the rope from his side and kneeling next to the man, getting him over to the broken down and chipped table in the middle of the room and tying him to it as tight as he could.

"Don't, it's nothing, nothing!" The man yelled, struggling against John's hold on him.

The door creaked open and Kayce froze at the sight. "You, uh, you're gonna wanna see this, dad."

John looked up at his son, trying to get a look from where he was but needing to stand up anyway. The tied man kept yelling and squirming, shaking the table as he did.

Kayce moved to the side to let John look. The room was small, still, it held a poorly made bed, really it was just the frame with a shitty pillow and ratty old blanket thrown over it; there wasn't even a window to cover up.

In the darkness he made out a figure, a small one. A person chained to the bed. They were on their knees, elbows resting on the wood and hands clasped in one another, lips moving subtly in a silent prayer.

"Oh, Jesus Christ..." John muttered. He knelt down, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked, keeping his voice gentle as it could be.

Your clothes, a shirt and cotton shorts, were browning with age, holes dug into them, blood littered over them, crusted into your shorts especially.

You finished your prayer and looked to him, keeping your gaze below his head and refusing to look any higher. You gave a small nod.

Kayce had gone back to the horses and returned with bolt cutters and handed them to his father. "We're gonna get you out of here, ok?" John said, rubbing your back. He reached for the chain wrapped around your ankle, hooking the cutters into one of the loops.

The feeling of him trying to get the chain off was more than you could bear, this room had been all you'd known for years, that chain had been around your ankle for years, rubbing on it and making your skin raw.

You swatted at John's hand, pushing him away and backing yourself into the corner across from the bed. Your breathing was heavy and you shook your head, this chain was keeping you here and still, you couldn't lose it.

John looked to Kayce who was chewing his cheek, thinking of ways to help.

The son took the cutters from his dad and moved to kneel in front of you. "I'm not gonna hurt you, alright? I just want to help, I can't do that with this thing." He said. Kayce was much gentler than John, his voice not as gruff and warmer. He looked you up and down, taking in your disheveled state and seeing how panicked you were. "Can you tell me your name?" He asked, not bothering to make you look at him, it was the least of his concerns right now.

You fidgeted with your hands in your lap. You thought for a moment before shaking your head.

Kayce sighed. "Well, I'm Kayce Dutton, I live on this farm land with my family... we- my dad and I” he said, gesturing back to John, “want to take you there, we can get you food and a change of clothes... a proper bed to sleep in."

"They're lying! They're liars, don't listen to them!" The addict yelled. John groaned and went to him, tying the rope tighter around him. You couldn't hear what John was saying and you were too panicked to care.

"I am not lying, I can't promise you much more than my word, do you trust my word?" Kayce asked, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over the back of your palm in a soothing moment. You gave a small nod. "Alright now, I won't cut it all off, does that sound better?" You much preferred that compromise.

He didn't leave much, just keeping it around your ankle and then a few chains to keep a bit of extra weight, what you were used to, at least similar to it.

"Kayce, we gotta go." John said, peaking back into the room. "Now. Come on, let's go!" John hurried out, leaving you and Kayce alone.

"Can you walk?" You shook your head, Kayce exhaled with a nod. "I'm gonna pick you up and carry you out to the horses, alright?" You paused a moment but there wasn't much time for him to wait for you, quickly wrapping his arms around you and carrying you out of the shed and to the horses where John was already waiting, horses untied and ready to go.

The sky above you, the trees and the grass, all of it was so familiar and new all at the same time. The cool chill of the night hitting your face and body, your skin so pale in comparison to everything else. For just a moment you were struck with this envious look, all of this had been waiting for you? Just a few feet away? But then it all came crashing down as it settled in you that you were outside, alone and vulnerable.

As soon as you reached the horses you started panicking again, yelling and screaming and reaching out for the shed again as the man called out for you as well. Kayce laid you on the horse and gave it a smack to get it going, John was on the other horse, holding the reins to Kayce's horse and moving while Kayce started running just behind you both.

He didn't get far before the shed caught far, exploding. Kayce was already far enough away and wasn't injured, no one was but the man holding you captive was definitely gone, a foot landing not far from you.

You screamed until your throat hurt, until nothing came out. Your eyes red and stinging from tears as you cried out, body shaking over the horse.

John slowed down and Kayce caught up with you, taking the reins of his horse back and leading it back to the farm. "Kayce, call 911, we need to stop the fire." John spoke, taking out his own phone.

The land was damp and frosted, chances are the fire wouldn't make it very far, besides, the houses were much too far for it to cause any real damage. Still, the fire was right on the tree's edge and they couldn't risk too much.

The phone rang in John's hand, all while you wailed in the background. "You got a spare room, don't ya, Rip?"

~7:16 pm~

Rip had set up the spare room, there really wasn't much to set, the bed was made and it wasn't a particularly messy room, dusty, sure, but not messy.

There was a knock on his door and he went to answer it, opening it to find John with a more than distraught you under his arm. "I'll go get some of Beth's old clothes, get her in the shower, clean her up.” The older man ordered, gently pushing you towards Rip.

Rip was caught so off guard and just held you close to him for several minutes while John walked away, back down the hill to the main house. He looked down to you as you stared at the ground. Your hair was matted, face a mess, clothes… he didn’t even want to think about it so he just guided you to the bathroom and set you down on the floor while he ran the water in the tub, making sure it was nice and warm since you were shivering.

He glanced back at you, huddled in the corner, knees to your chest, tears rolling down your cheeks. “What’s yer name, kid?” He asked, keeping his voice gentle. You shivered and shook your head, you didn’t know him, you didn’t know what was going on, where you were. You were more than scared of this big, strange man, no matter how kind he seemed off the bat.

Rip sucked his teeth and nodded, understanding that this was something new for you. “I’m Rip… I’m a cowboy, you know what a cowboy is?” You shook your head again. “A cowboy is someone who protects the people around them… people like you, you understand?” You didn’t but you nodded anyway. “So, I’m not gonna hurt you, I’d never do that… and if anyone hurts you, you tell me, alright?” You nodded again.

Rip looked back to the water as the tub filled up. “What are you doing?” You asked, also looking to the tub as water poured out the faucet.

“I-I’m getting a bath ready for you.” He answered simply, raising a brow at your question. “You’ve had a bath before, right?” He looked you over, you didn’t look like you had.

“When-when I was younger…” You answered softly. “To wash away the day's filth is to wash away God’s path for you, your history.” You explained. Rip sighed, he wasn’t a very religious man but that sounded cultish to him, seeing your disheveled state…

“That’s not what God said, you know…” He said, hoping you’d look up at him but you didn’t. “If that’s what he really wanted he wouldn’t have made lakes and rivers for us to clean in… he would’ve made it harder to do that, would’ve put up a sign or something.” You thought about what he said. Nothing was changing overnight but after everything today you were at a loss, you couldn’t go back to the room you knew, all you had was Rip right now.

“Do you need help out of your clothes?” He asked, gesturing to you with a nod. You’ve heard those words before, not in that order, not in that tone, but you understood that much and shook your head.

You stood and pulled your shirt up over your head, Rip looked away to give you some privacy, as if he wasn’t about to wash you himself. You pulled your shorts off and tossed them aside to the corner before going to the sink, now Rip looked at you, confusion swirling in his eyes as you placed your hands on the edge of the sink, parting your legs and looking down into the sink.

Rip stared at you dumbfounded. Your clothes covered in blood and basically standing alone in the corner, it made sense now and he jumped to his feet, gathering you in his arms and bringing you over to the tub, carefully setting you down in the warm water. “You don’t ever have to do that again, you hear me?” He said, holding your mucky hair out of your face, turning your head to look at him. You closed your eyes, refusing to look at his face. “Can you look at me?” You shook your head. “What’s stopping you?” He let go of your face, letting you look back to the water turning brown around you.

You swirled your hand in the water, amused by its ripples. “He said you may not look man in the eyes for it disrespects him and taints your soul.” Rip exhaled sharply, staring at you a moment longer before reaching back to get a washcloth from the cabinet under the sink.

He rubbed soap into the cloth, letting it bubble in his hands before running it over your bruised and battered skin, listening to every hiss you let out from the scars it passed over and caught on. Your ribs and inner thighs were the worst of it, all it did was anger Rip more and more by the second.

“I’ve got no respect to lose, you can look at me.” He muttered, running the cloth down your arm. “Your soul… that’s something you can’t touch with your eyes.” You didn’t respond.

He continued to bathe you as you rested your chin on your knees, eyes slowly closing until you couldn’t keep them open any longer, you were used to sleeping in this position, your body accepting it as normal while Rip fought the urge to pull you closer to him.

He’d never felt this with someone before, other than Beth. He wasn’t speaking to Beth anymore, she left and made sure he knew she was done with him, tore his heart out and made him eat it.

He didn’t want to think of that right now, he wanted to help you, that was his focus, his only priority.

~7:45 pm~

Rip had been struggling with your hair for too long, he’d finally managed to get your body clean but your hair was beyond repair. A knotted, matted mess that just needed to be shaved off.

A knock came to the bathroom door and it creaked open and John stepped in, keeping his back to the bath as he held out a pile of clothes. "I got you somethin' to wear, just, uh, put these on when you're done" He said, looking down the hallway with a nervous look etched on his face. "I gotta go find Rip." He said lower.

Rip stopped trying to untangle your hair, it was only harder because you were asleep and he didn't want to wake you. He cleared his throat. "I'm right here, sir" He said softly. "She needed help."

John's head snapped to him before he quickly looked away again to avoid looking at you naked. "What the hell are you doing?! She's been locked up and used like a fucking doll, you don't know what she'll think of this!" Rip hung his head, he knew what John was talking about, seen it in the way you reacted sometimes, your clothes. "You're supposed to be keeping her safe, Rip."

Even with his harsh words and the deeper meaning behind them, it was hard to take him so seriously when he was scared to look into the bathroom. "I-I know, Sir, I was just helping... she needed it..."

John let out a heavy sigh. He set the clothes on the counter beside the sink. "Just finish up and get her into bed, not your bed. I wanna talk to you for a minute." He said, closing the door behind him and heading down the hall to the living room.

Rip let out a heavy sigh, very few times had he disappointed John, he hated it every time. However, he couldn't just get this done quick.

He looked to the counter and pulled out a drawer, looking into it and seeing his razor. It was the best thing for you.

He dried you off and got you dressed, doing his best not to wake up, which turned out to be easier than he’d thought it would be, you were just out and he kept checking your pulse.

He shaved your head, it was better than leaving that mess on your head, then he washed your scalp, being careful around the sores. He carried you to the guest room and tucked you in, running a hand over the fuzz that covered your head now.

John was waiting for him out in the living room, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He stared at Rip as he came down the hall. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Rip inhaled deeply as he took a seat on the other side of the couch. “I was thinking she needed help and I helped… I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, that’s what you think.” John grumbled. “Look, she seems content with you if she was able to sleep, you keep an eye on her.” He stood up and went to the door, stopping just short of it. “That’s all you keep on her, ya hear?” He stated, shooting him a look. Rip nodded and John left.

Rip stayed there a moment, thinking about… everything before eventually getting up and walking back to the guest room where you slept peacefully under the sheets.

He sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand down the side of your face. “You’re too young for this.” He muttered to himself.

You began to stir, eyes slowly blinking open and you looked up at him. He stared back at you, your eyes were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, tortured and innocent, there was a purity in them he’d never seen in anything.

“You’re looking at me.” He said, cupping your cheek in his rough, clean hand. His hand had probably never been this clean before in his life.

You brought your hand up to hold his against your face. “You’re pretty.” You mumbled, drawing a chuckle from him.

“Am I?” You nodded with a smile. He sighed and looked over you once more. “What’s your name?”

You hesitated a moment. “Three.” Rip paused.

He shook his head. “No, that’s not your name, that’s a number, I asked for your name.”

You stared up at him with a blank stare, blinking tiredly. “Three.” You repeated.

Rip stared, eyes flickering over your face, taking in your doe like features. “Is that the name he gave you?” You nodded, sitting up with a grunt, body aching. “I’m not calling you that.”

“That’s my name.” You stated firmly, Rip was surprised that you’d use a tone with him but he didn’t care, he wasn’t calling you a number.

For several moments you sat there, staring at each other. Rip brought his hand back to your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. He leaned in and closed the distance between you both, his lips on yours.

It was gentle and warm, passionate but not heated. Love was a complicated concept but you’d never felt it before, he hadn’t gotten ahold of it himself, still, he was determined to show you there were brighter sides to this world than what you’d seen.

A knock on the door reminded him of where he was, who was with, what was happening. He pulled away, seeing the way you were now looking at him; eyes wide, full of something new, something eager and curious.

The knock came again and he got up. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He said, giving you a last kiss. “Just lay down, darlin’.” You nodded with a smile as you moved down the bed.

He went to answer the door quickly, rushing to get it open so he could get back to you.

On the other side was Beth. He hadn’t seen her, nor wanted to see her, in so long, what felt like forever.

She was on him in an instant, arms around his neck, his own lifting her up as he carried her to his room. He knew he shouldn’t, that you were waiting for him.

It kept him up late after Beth was done with him, when she was sleeping next to him, using him for warmth, what else it was she’d use him for he couldn’t guess, there were too many options.

[jenosonlywife23]

Heartstrings

Part 1

(Part 2)

The night Jeno announced his relationship felt like the world stopped spinning. His smile was wide, radiant even, as he laced his fingers with hers and said, “We’re dating!” The words echoed in the air, loud and unrelenting. The cheers and congratulations from the group only added to the sting.

Days earlier, in a quiet moment with Chenle, it had all come tumbling out—the feelings, the longing, the hopeless crush. Chenle had encouraged it, saying, “You should tell him. Who knows? He might feel the same.” It turned out he didn’t. Worse, he’d overheard.

But Jeno never said anything. Not a rejection, not an apology, not even a word of acknowledgment. It wasn’t until Chenle quietly explained what happened that everything made sense. Jeno had chosen silence. And now, he was happily in love—with someone else.

Swallowing the heartbreak, pretending it didn’t matter, became a daily ritual. Moving on wasn’t easy, but staying still felt impossible. That’s when someone new came along—a guy who seemed nice enough to distract from the ache. He was attentive, kind, everything you thought you needed to patch the cracks in your heart. At first.

Then his true colors started showing. Small comments that felt like jabs. Smiles that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Every interaction began to feel more like a transaction than a connection. Yet somehow, breaking away felt harder than staying.

Everyone noticed. The quiet concern in their glances, the subtle questions. Even Jeno seemed to watch more closely, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with something unreadable.

“Can I talk to you?” Jeno asked one night, long after the others had left. His tone was softer than usual, almost hesitant.

You turned, wary. “What’s this about?”

“That guy…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “He’s not good for you. You don’t seem happy.”

A bitter laugh slipped out. “And you’re the judge of what makes me happy?”

“I’m not trying to judge,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “But I care. I hate seeing you with someone who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve.”

“You don’t get to say that,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “Not after everything. You were happy to stay quiet when it mattered. Now, suddenly, you care?”

His expression shifted, a flicker of something close to guilt flashing in his eyes. “I should have said something then. I know that now.”

“Well, it’s too late for that, isn’t it?” Your voice wavered, betraying the fragile hold you had on your emotions. “You’re happy. You have her. So why are you here?”

Jeno didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked at you with a kind of intensity that made your heart ache. “Because I can’t stand watching you get hurt. Not like this.”

The words hung heavy in the air, unspoken emotions crackling like static between you. You opened your mouth to respond, but the sound of your phone vibrating broke the moment. It was a message from him, the guy who was supposed to be your escape. The preview on the screen showed just enough to send your stomach sinking.

Jeno saw it, too. His jaw clenched. “Is that him?”

You didn’t answer, your fingers trembling as you locked the phone. His gaze stayed fixed on you, a mixture of frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t let him hurt you anymore,” Jeno said, his voice low. “Please.”

You turned away, gripping the phone tightly, unsure if the ache in your chest was from the message—or the way Jeno’s words lingered, filling the silence with questions you didn’t know how to answer.

[p-artsypants]

Fiddle Me This

Ao3 | FF.net

Hamish, former chief of the Shivering Shores, is coming to Berk and has requested Hiccup play some songs he's written over the years. The problem? No one else knew Hiccup could fiddle, and he's never performed for anyone.

The idea for this is completely self-indulgent and comes from the fact that Alexander Rybak does the Norwegian voice for Hiccup. He wrote two songs for the series, including one specifically for Toothless. I can’t just sit here knowing that and NOT write a fic, I mean COME ON. Also, in the Episode with Garf, Hiccup’s song was about Toothless, and he was really enthusiastic about it, making me think he wrote it himself. 

This is not historically accurate, but neither is the source material. 

Set somewhere during RTTE, before Blindsided.

—

Things had thankfully been slow at the Edge. The Hunters hadn’t been seen in a while, probably regrouping or strategizing. But the anxiety of that unknown was quickly pushed aside with a Terror Mail from Berk. 

“Alright gang,” Hiccup stated that morning. “Who’s feeling homesick?” 

Fishlegs sheepishly raised his hand, but the rest just kind of looked at each other. 

“Well, you’re in luck. We’re heading back to Berk for a little vacation! The Shiver Shores are coming in a week, and they’ll be in Berk for three days. Hamish’s oldest son Hagar has taken over as chief.” 

“Is Hamish okay?” Fishlegs asked, as that was the usual reason a tribe had a new chief.  

“As far as I know, he’s still alive. Sounds like his health is declining and it was getting hard to keep up with all the duties. Hel, it’s hard when you’re not sick,” Hiccup muttered that last bit to himself. 

“When do we leave?” Asked Astrid. 

“I’m leaving today,” Hiccup rested his hands on his waist. “Dad specifically asked me to come early to help with some preparations. You guys are welcome to head back on Frigg’s day. Or earlier, if you want. But I’d like someone to stay on the Edge as long as possible.” 

“Sweet! Unsupervised vacation!” Tuffnut high fived his sister. 

“Uh, no. If you’re staying, you’re doing your jobs. That means patrolling!”  

“Boo!” 

“Killjoy!” 

“What could your dad possibly need you so early for?” Snotlout asked, insult implied.

Hiccup’s face went red, satisfying Snotlout, but the blush was for a totally different reason. “Hamish…specifically requested…I play the fiddle.” 

There was a pause. “You have a week to learn the fiddle?” Asked Tuff. 

Hiccup sighed. “No, I have a week to brush up on the fiddle.” 

Then everyone yelled in unison, “You can fiddle!?” 

He chuckled awkwardly. “Yeeeeep.”  

“Since when?!” Snotlout demanded. “I’ve known you since we were in diapers, and I’ve never heard you play a single note.”

“Yeah, but how well did you know me before the Red Death?” 

“People talk, Hiccup. You’re not that good at keeping secrets.” 

“And the Nightfury that spent three months in the woods?” 

“A notable exception.”

Hiccup awkwardly played with his hands, avoiding eye contact. “I’ve been playing since … well, since I was able to. My mother played. We had her fiddle at the house, and when I was little, my dad asked if I wanted to learn how to play, explaining that mom had. I was really enthusiastic back then, and so when we went to visit the Shivering Shores a few times a year, he had me take lessons with Hamish.” 

“Which is why he requested you play now,” Astrid gathered. 

“Yeeeep.” 

“So, are you good?” Asked Tuff. 

“Oh no, I’m terrible. I’m thinking that I’ll just play with the band. Maybe quietly so they drown me out.” 

“I’m sure you’ll be great, Hiccup,” Astrid said fondly. “When was the last time you played?” 

He scrunched up his lips in thought. “For anyone? Never. Unless you count Hamish. Or Toothless.” He smiled over at his dragon. “But I sometimes play in my room or at the forge if I need to think something through and need to do something with my hands. I didn’t take it with me when we came out here.” 

“So a few months.” 

“Give or take.” 

Tuffnut snapped his fingers. “The Fiddler on the Roof!” 

“Excuse me?” 

“What? You never heard the rumor of the Fiddler on the Roof? Ugh! It makes so much sense now!” 

“What are you talking about?” Hiccup pressed. 

“Okay okay, for years people have been talking about a mysterious fiddler in the village. His music carries over the rooftops, so people assumed he was up high…kinda like the chief’s house on the hill?!” Tuffnut nudged him. 

“Th-that can’t be right. It must be someone else.” 

Fishlegs pointed out, “no one else on the island plays a fiddle though. You said it yourself that you had to take lessons from Hamish.” 

“Yeah, but Silent Sven plays the nyckelharpa and Sigurd plays the Hurdy-Gurdy. What if it was one of them?” 

“Nope, not a nyckelharpa,” said Tuff. 

“And definitely not a hurdy-gurdy!” Said Ruff. 

“Besides, they play in the Great Hall all the time, we know what they sound like,” said Fishlegs. 

“And it’s definitely a Fiddler on that Roof.” 

Hiccup’s face went even more red, and he covered it with his hands. “Oh gods…people have been hearing me for years!” 

“That’s the cool part, H,” said Tuff. “The Fiddler is said to be otherworldly in nature, and some even thought he might be a spirit of music himself.” 

“Okay, now you’re just messing with me.” 

“Am I?” Tuff wiggled his fingers. 

“Look, don’t get too excited, okay? I’ll show my dad where I’m at and he might agree to have a private performance with Hamish. I would never want to subject the village to hear my…” he rolled his hand, looking for the word. 

“Screeching?”

“‘Fork-on-dinnerplate’?”

“Dying cat?” 

“Yeah,” Hiccup said flatly, “One of those.”

“You know, Hiccup,” said Snotlout. “I never saw you as the type to be musically inclined. But it suits you, I must say. Someone’s gotta play the tales of my awesome battles.” 

“And the fact that you sing a solo every Snoggletog doesn’t count because…?” 

“Duh, because it’s Snoggletog, a season of giving. And I give the gift of my beautiful tenor.” He gestured to his throat.

“Right,” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m going to get packed. Anyone else coming now?”

“I will,” said Astrid. 

“Me too!” Said Fishlegs. 

Hiccup looked meaningfully at the Twins and Snotlout. 

“What?” Asked Snot. “Yeah, we’ll behave! We’ll even patrol! We’re mature adults that don’t need a babysitter.” 

“There was only one word in that sentence that was true,” Hiccup said, rolling his eyes and heading out. 

Tuff yelled back, “Which one was it? Was it ‘that’?” 

An hour later, Astrid, Fishlegs, and Hiccup were packed and ready to head back to Berk. One last chastising for the stragglers, and they were off. 

“So…” Fishlegs began, as their trip was underway. “Can I ask more questions about the fiddle?” He squeaked. 

Hiccup sighed. “Yeah, I guess. At least I know you two won’t make fun of me for it.” 

“Never, Hiccup,” Astrid assured. “I can’t even sing, let alone play an instrument. I bet the muttonheads back at the Edge certainly can’t.” 

“Not that I’ve ever heard,” he shrugged. 

“What songs can you play?” 

Hiccup winced. “Not many. I learned how to play some traditional stuff when I was younger, and when I nailed those down and got tired of them, I started doing my own thing.” 

“…what’s your own thing?” Astrid asked. 

“Well, I uh…I made up my own songs. Not really writing anything down, but developing a melody I liked…putting some words to it. That kind of thing.” 

“You should perform those!” Said Fishlegs, enthusiastically. “I bet people would want to hear a Hiccup original over the same thing we hear all the time!” 

He scoffed. “No, you got it all wrong. They aren’t good, Fishlegs! Like…I know you come up with little songs about Meatlug, right?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Would you perform those in front of the tribe?” 

“Ha! No way! Not unless Meatlug was having a panic attack and I needed to calm her down.” He laid on his dragon, giving her a hug. “Then in that case, no crowd could stop me.” 

“So did you play a lot?” Asked Astrid. “You said you would play to keep your hands busy.” 

“Quite a bit,” he admitted. “It’s kind of fun to play, and the music kinda helps me think. But I’m usually not thinking about the fiddle when I’m playing, so I’m sure it sounds like a bunch of random notes just sliding around.” 

“But if you practice a lot, it shouldn’t sound that bad,” she reasoned. 

“Oh, you’d be surprised…” 

The conversation changed then, and they talked about other things for the rest of the flight. Dragon training, the Hunters, there was even an hour long argument about who would win in a fight between three Flightmares and ten Speed Stingers. 

Eventually, they reached Berk right before dinner. Gobber and Stoick were waiting for them and greeted them warmly. 

“Evening son! Have a good flight?” 

Hiccup slid off Toothless, stretching his back. “Good weather, fun company, no complaints.” 

“You know…I got your fiddle out for you. It’s on your desk.” 

Hiccup barked a laugh. “That didn’t take long. I thought for sure you’d wait to bring it up until after dinner.” 

“Well, the others want to start practice after dinner,” Stoick argued. “Thought you might want a little time to make sure she’s all ready to play.” 

“Others?” 

“Oh you know, Sven, Sigurd, Hackjaw, Frida, Hilda…and Gobber wants to play the pan flute.” 

“I love playing the pan flute!” The man cheered. 

“Well, I’ll need all the practice I can get. I’m really hoping to just pretend to play, and let the others kind of drown me out.” 

Stoick gave him an incredulous look. “What are you talking about son? Why would they need to drown you out?” 

“Dad, I’m not good,” he chuckled humorlessly. 

“Aw this hogwash again? You’re a fine fiddler!” 

“A damn fine fiddler!” Gobber added. 

“Thanks but—“ 

“No buts!” Stoick interrupted. “It’s been decided. Through our letters, Hamish and I have been talking. I told him about the songs you wrote.” 

“You didn’t.” 

“I did! And he’s so excited! He wants to hear all four!” 

“DAD!” 

“I want to hear ‘em properly too! I like that one about the fairytale, that love song? Oh it gets me in the heart. Makes me think of your mother…” he said wistfully.  

“Dad!” Hiccup grabbed his face in horror. Feeling more and more sick as the story went on. 

Gobber said, “I asked if the one that’s like, ‘come fly with me! Oh whoa, oh whoa’ was in the line up, because that’s the one I like.” 

“You too?” He gaped at Gobber. “You’ve been listening?” 

“The backroom to the forge is only separated by a cloth lad, not exactly soundproof.”

“And then the one you wrote for Toothless,” Stoick suggested. 

Hiccup furrowed his brow, he’d actually come up with a dozen little songs about Toothless. “Which one?” 

“Oh you played it for a week straight during our first Snoggletog with the dragons! You built that tail for Toothless, and you were so heartbroken that he was gone…” 

“Oh Thor, that one?” 

“It was so sweet, lad! No need to be embarrassed.” 

“Ugh! And dare I ask about the last one?” 

Stoick gave him this weirdly proud smile, “Oh you know which one I’m talkin’ about.” 

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking,” Hiccup droned. 

Stoick glanced at Astrid, before leaning in to speak into Hiccup’s ear. 

Fishlegs and Astrid had to assume it was beyond embarrassing as Hiccup’s face flushed a vibrant red and his eyes went wide. “You heard that?” 

Stoick giggled, “how could I not? You sang with so much passion!”

“I think I’m going to be sick.” 

Stoick patted his shoulder. “Everyone gets a little stage fright, son.”

“What about stage paralysis?” He asked. 

“We’ll have an hour of music during dinner on the first night. The rest of the band has already figured out all the other music to play. Now, all they need is to hear your songs so they best know how to accompany you.” 

“And the songs that they’re playing?” 

“You know them. And you know how to make it up if you don’t.” 

“You, sir, are putting way too much faith in me.” 

“No. You,” he poked Hiccup’s chest, “aren’t putting enough faith in yourself.” 

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’m the best fiddler on Berk.” 

Fishlegs squeaked, “Aren’t you the only—”

“That’s my point, Fish!” He scratched his head. “Look, I’ll see you guys around. I’m gonna go…fiddle with the fiddle.” 

Gobber chuckled, “an oldie, but a goodie.” 

As Astrid watched Hiccup and Toothless depart up to the chief’s house, “He’s really good then, chief?”

“Aye! As he is with all his artistic endeavors.”

“The Halls of Valhalla are filled with bards that wished they played as well as him!” Gobber declared. 

“So why does he think he’s bad?” Asked Fishlegs. “How can he not notice?” 

“Well, you’ve got to look at it from his perspective. Hiccup has always compared himself to others. I’m at fault for that, as well as most in the village. We always told him he wasn’t as good as others at fighting. But he’s taken it to the level of all his skills. You think he’s talented at drawing and smithing, right?” 

“Absolutely.”

“But to him, he’s ‘just good enough’ because he’s compared himself to others and decided he’s not as good. I think that’s why he’s so gung-ho about Dragon Training. No one else has ever befriended a Nightfury, therefore, no one to compare to.”

“Wow,” Astrid said sadly. “I never thought of it that way before.” 

“With his fiddle, he learned from Hamish, who’s a fantastic fiddler. Hiccup could never quite get the technique the man had. The only other comparisons are Sven and Sigurd, and they’re quite good too. But their instruments sound different from Hiccup’s. He can’t do what they do, therefore, he’s bad.” 

“Now I’m depressed,” said Fishlegs. “I never knew this about Hiccup.” 

“Oh don’t let it get your skivvies in a twist. Hiccup’s drive to find his place in the village is what drove him to Toothless afterall, right? And look at how he’s doing now!” 

Distantly, Astrid could hear it. Someone playing the scales on the fiddle, the notes sliding into place. A note played alone, over and over, and then the next. 

“Ah, sounds like it needs some tuning,” Stoick observed. “That’ll bother him all night.” 

She wanted to listen. She wanted to sneak over and just watch and listen. But that wouldn’t be fair to him if he was so self-conscious. Maybe this will get him out of his shell, and he’ll be more willing to share his music with her.  

Astrid’s parents were having dinner up at the Great Hall, and she happily joined them, catching up with them about all the things that had been happening at the Edge. 

As she ate, she watched as Stoick and Hiccup arrived, bowls in hand. Hiccup wore a wooden case on his back, attached with a leather strap. 

His fiddle.

It was one thing to have him tell them about it, but to see it…

Then again, this was still just the case. It would be completely different once he was actually holding it and playing it. 

He set the case down on a table over by the wall, where she could see other instrument cases sitting and waiting for practice. Then he went and sat with his father at the head table. 

“You’ve been away from the boy for an hour and you can’t take your eyes off of him,” Phlegma Hofferson teased. 

Astrid whirled around, red faced, and hushed her mother. “Don’t say stuff like that!” 

Her father laughed. “Oh, like everyone doesn’t remember you planting a big ol’ wet kiss on him after the dragon war.” 

“That was years ago!” She hissed. 

“And you’ve only grown fonder of him, no?” 

“Ugh.” Astrid’s head smacked lightly on the table. “You two are impossible.” 

“We are? Sure dear. But when are you two just going to make it official? You know we’re ready to pay your dowry whenever Stoick’s got the bride price.” 

Astrid rubbed her temples. “Look—you’re not…totally wrong about how I feel…but I haven’t said anything, and I’m waiting on Hiccup to make the move.” 

“Dear, you’ll be old by then.” 

“Give him some credit! He’s got a lot on his mind.” 

“I hope he’s got you on his mind too,” Phlegma smirked. “Have you tried seducing him?”

“Mother!” Astrid damn near screamed. 

“Sorry dear, sorry. We’ll drop it for now.” Phlegma and Axel shared a smug look. 

Astrid doubted they were done with the topic for this trip. If Hiccup was going to be busy in rehearsals most days, then she’d have to find a way to avoid her parents. 

Maybe Fishlegs would be up for some fun instead of spending it in the library? 

After dinner, Astrid hung around the Hall, even as her parents left. 

The rest of the band was setting up. Sigurd and Sven had their strings, Hackjaw had his drums, Frida had the lute, Hilda on the horn, Bard on the mandolin, Bucket had a shaker, and Gobber had his pan flute.

And Hiccup was just sitting by them, not making any move to his case. In fact, he kept glancing around to the other non-band folks in the Hall, waiting for them to leave. 

Then his eyes met hers.

She waved and smiled. 

He ducked his head sheepishly. 

Astrid felt a pang in her chest. It was so heartbreaking to see Hiccup this embarrassed. It was almost like the old days, before Toothless. 

Toothless.   

The dragon wasn’t in the Great Hall. He was probably frolicking with the other dragons, or just with Stormfly and Meatlug. But if anyone was going to give him the courage to do this, it was Toothless! 

Astrid got up and went to find him. Though, it didn’t take long at all. He was sprawled out on the grass on the hill. 

“Pst! Toothless!” 

He perked up, looking at her, ears up at attention. 

“Hiccup’s inside!” She pointed. 

He leapt to his feet and trotted over. 

“Now,” she told him, “he’s going to be working hard and practicing music with the others inside, but he’s nervous about it, so you’re going to support him, okay?” 

Toothless was the smartest dragon she knew. Sometimes with the looks he gave, she swore he was going to open his mouth and speak perfect Norse. Right now was one of those times. He gave her this look, like he knew exactly what she was saying and what needed to happen. He nudged her arm with his nose and then plodded into the Great Hall and over to Hiccup.

Hiccup lit up when he saw his friend, and greeted him with a chin scratch. 

Toothless laid at his feet, paws crossed elegantly. 

Hiccup chuckled, and then looked over to her, still standing in the doorway. 

Astrid gave him the thumbs up and a wide reassuring smile. 

Hiccup returned it, though not as confident. But he did get up and go to the fiddle case. 

Astrid decided to leave and give him his privacy. Toothless was all the support he needed right now, and anymore attention would just make him crumble. 

A few minutes later, Hilda put a sign on the door. ‘Practice in session, do not disturb.’

So now it was a waiting game. Hiccup obviously wasn’t going to give out any sneak previews. Though she did try to keep an eye on him. 

—

As the week went on, she noticed happily that his demeanor had changed quite a bit. He stood up straighter when he went into practice, and he talked freely with the band, like he was one of them instead of an intruder. 

Astrid wondered if someone had said something to him, or if just having Toothless around was making a difference. 

The band practiced for a few hours after dinner every night. Even with the doors closed, the faintest music could be heard. Astrid didn’t know enough about instruments to know if she was hearing a fiddle or nyckelharpa or hurdy-gurdy. 

She actually wasn’t really sure what those last two were. 

During the day, Hiccup was mostly helping with preparations. She often saw him helping someone or another in the town. 

But there were a few hours a day where he couldn’t be found. He wasn’t at his father’s house or the Great Hall.  

“Hey Chief,” she greeted. “Have you seen your son around?” 

“Nope,” he smiled. “He’s gone off to find a place to practice.” 

“He’s really taking this fiddle performance to heart, isn’t he?” 

“Sure is,” he continued smiling, seemingly proud at the thought. “Hiccup’s a viking, though he might protest. He’s as bullheaded and stubborn as the lot of us. When he doesn’t want to do something, he fights and protests the whole way. But when he finds a reason to want to do something, he dives in, head first, and puts his whole being into it.” 

“Yeah,” Astrid agreed. “I’ve seen that. And he’s good about finding a reason to do something.” 

“We’re friends with the Shivering Shores, our alliance isn’t in any trouble. But Hiccup knows I’m good friends with Hamish, and he has a lot of respect for the man. I think it might break his heart if he disappointed him.” 

“Hiccup has always valued other’s opinions,” she supposed. 

“And…” Stoick drawled, a keen smile on his face. “I happen to know one of the songs he’s got is a love song. Maybe he wants it just right to convey a message?” 

Astrid flushed red. “T-t-to who?” 

“Ah, I’m joking,” he patted her back, though the smile didn’t go away. 

Stoick had read her like a book. He knew there was something going on between them, even if that ‘something’ had been in a weird limbo for years. 

She looked away, shyly. “Well, anyways, I’m excited to see him perform.” 

“Aye, me too, lass. Should be memorable!” 

—-

Snotlout and the Twins arrived the next day, one day before the Shivering Shores’ arrival. Despite what Astrid was expecting, they seemed to have forgotten all about Hiccup’s fiddle secret, as no one brought it up. 

They had dinner together in the Great Hall, which was now decorated with fresh flowers and garland. 

“So,” Hiccup began, sitting down with a plate of chicken and veggies. “How’s the Edge? Everything still quiet?” 

“You think anything is quiet with these dunderheads?” Snotlout jabbed a thumb over at the twins. “But as for our enemies, we didn’t see anything.” 

“Did the twins cause any—”

“The answer is yes, and you don’t want to know. We’ll talk about it on the way back, I already did my part.” 

Hiccup sighed. “Well, thank you, Snotlout. I knew I could trust you to watch the Edge while we were away.” 

Snotlout sat up straight at this praise and started to smile. “I did do a good job, didn’t I? Hey, maybe you shouldn’t even worry about coming back to the Edge. Your dad seemed really stressed and you should—” 

“Nice try, but I’m definitely going back.” 

Snotlout folded his hands behind his head. “Can’t blame me for trying.” 

“How goes the fiddling practice?” Asked Fishlegs. 

Astrid flinched heavily, ready to punch him. 

“Oh yeah!” Said Snotlout. “You’ve got a little recital coming up, don’t you?” 

“Hiccup: Live in Concert!” Said Tuffnut, enthusiastically. “I’ve been thinking about it all week!” 

“Tomorrow during dinner.” Hiccup nodded, looking sheepish. “I think it’ll be okay. I’m really nervous, but…I found a really good tactic to distract myself.” 

“And that is…?”

“I play to Toothless, specifically. He really likes music, and almost dances to it. It’s kind of adorable. So I just watch him.” 

Astrid tried not to seem too proud. After all, it was her that encouraged Toothless to join that first rehearsal. 

“So what are ya gonna play?” Tuffnut asked. “Silvard had a Little Yak?” 

Hiccup rolled his eyes, but retorted smugly, “You’ll just have to wait and see.” 

“Did your dad convince you to play the songs you wrote?” Fishlegs asked, again making Astrid want to hit him. 

Hiccup sighed. “Yep.” 

“Hold on,” said Snot. “You wrote songs?” 

“Sure. Didn’t you write a few for Garf?” 

“That’s totally different,” Snotlout laughed. “I never expected to perform them for anyone. Oh this is rich. I can’t wait until you see what we have in store for you tomorrow!” 

Hiccup felt pale. “Wh-what are you talking about?” 

“Nothing much,” said Tuff. “Just a little surprise.” 

“You’ll love it,” insisted Ruffnut. 

“Somehow, I doubt that completely.” 

—

Great ships with black sails arrived at the docks the next day. Hiccup stood with Stoick to greet the guests, while Astrid stood a little ways away for emotional support. Hiccup had foregone the leather armor, as requested by his father, and went back to his fur vest. His hair was still a mess, despite combing it for twenty minutes. It was probably stuck in place for ever thanks to Toothless’ saliva.

Hamish, a man as big as Stoick, disembarked first, using a cane to get around. “Stoick! My old friend!” 

“Good to see you, Hamish! Have a nice trip?” 

“Oh yes, very peaceful. Ever since your boy made peace with the dragons, sailin’ around has been a breeze! Of course, that doesn’t hurt.” He pointed at the three dragons leashed to the ship, having pulled it. They were all getting fish and scratches from the rest of the crew. 

Hiccup smiled proudly. 

“And look at you, boy-o!” Hamish praised, spotting him. “Shot up like a tree! I wager you’ll be taller than your old man one day.” 

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Hiccup chuckled. 

“Well you’ve grown into a fine young man, are your fiddling skills set to match?” 

Hiccup’s smile faltered. “Hamish, I’m going to do my best, but I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as you.” 

“Hiccup…” Stoick reprimanded. 

“You aren’t me, lad!” Hamish said joyfully. “I could never tame a dragon like you did! Let alone smith a tail! You have a lot of skills that you’ve honed over the years. Your father just said you never gave up the instrument, so I want to see what you’ve got!” 

That seemed to relieve Hiccup more than any other words had up until now. He smiled genuinely and said, “thanks for understanding.” 

Hagar, the new chief of the Shivering Shores disembarked a moment later and came to stand by his dad. He was just as large, but had no gray in his beard. He greeted Hiccup and Stoick with a wide smile.

“Incoming dragons!” The lookout called, pointing out over the sea. 

Hiccup and Astrid narrowed their eyes, looking at the two dragons coming in. 

“Is that…?” Astrid asked. 

“Oh gods,” Hiccup moaned. 

Before they even landed, a voice called boisterously. “BROTHER!” 

“H-hey Dagur…” Hiccup waved awkwardly. 

“Dagur of the Berserkers?” Asked Hamish. “What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing here?” 

“Hamish! You’re looking well!” Dagur and Shattermaster landed at the docks while Heather landed back by Astrid. “How are you feeling?” 

“Oh I’m doing pretty good. Some days are better than others. Been having a lot of great days leading up to this trip!” 

“Great to hear!” 

“So…what brings you to Berk?” Hiccup asked, dread churning in his gut. He had been on edge since Snotlout and the Twins said they had a surprise for him. 

Dagur laughed. “Isn’t it obvious?! We’re here to see your fiddling prowess!” 

Hiccup smacked his forehead. “Those muttonheads…” 

“Yes, Heather and I came to check in on the Edge a few days ago, and Snothat told us all about what you were doing! Why didn’t you ever tell me you played the fiddle?” 

“He didn’t tell any of us,” said Astrid. “Apparently, he’s not very good.” She smirked. 

“So he thinks!” Said Stoick. 

“Alright, alright. I should have known,” Hiccup groaned. “It’s fine. The more the merrier, right?” He smiled, but it was wobbly. 

 “And of course it’s always a pleasure to see the Shivering Shores folks, especially after we confirmed our alliance.” He shook Hamish and Hagar’s hands. 

“Glad to have Berserker Island back in our good graces,” said Hagar. 

“It's all thanks to my sweet baby brother!” Dagur grabbed Hiccup and pulled him into a side hug. “Showed me the error of my ways. Converted me into a real dragon lover. United me with my long lost sister! Oh, such a big and loving heart! The heart of an artist and musician!” 

Hiccup wheezed. “You’re too kind, Dagur.” 

“Brother?” Asked Hagar with an amused smile. 

“Honorary title,” Hiccup wheezed again. 

It seemed like Dagur’s praise reframed his arrival to Hagar and Hamish, and they looked a lot more relaxed and amused. 

“We’ll only stay tonight,” said Heather. “To watch Hiccup’s performance and give our dragons some time to rest. This is your vacation, after all. We didn’t mean to intrude.” 

“Tonight is the best part, anyway!” Said Hagar. “Feasting! Music! Dancing! And barrels of mead!” He gestured to their ship, where several barrels were stacked in a pyramid. 

Stoick cheered gleefully. 

“Perfect,” said Hiccup, “drunk ears are happy ears.” 

Astrid elbowed him. 

—-

Dinner time came around far too quickly for Hiccup’s liking, as with most things dreaded. 

The band was setting up in front of a support pillar. The tables were arranged in a semi circle around them, with enough space in front to move around. Directly to Hiccup’s left was the head table, where Hamish, Hagar, and his father sat. Next to them, with a front row view, was the table with his friends. They all watched eagerly as Hiccup moved around and talked with the band. 

Toothless laid at the front of the table, on his absolute best behavior. His eyes were rounded and soft, as he occasionally stuck his tongue out in excitement. 

People were still milling around, getting drinks and sharing food. 

No introductions were made yet, no commencement speeches, but Hiccup had his fiddle in hand and walked up to the front of the band. The players watched him, waiting for a queue.

Hiccup nodded his head, put the fiddle to his chin and started a fast paced one note sprint, literally sounding like someone was running. Then Hackjaw came in with several heavy beats of his drum. Then the rest of the band joined, filling the hall with boisterous music. 

And to Astrid’s disappointment, mostly drowning out Hiccup. He had taken a few steps back to stand with the group. He had his head bowed, and eyes clenched shut tightly as he played. Occasionally, she thought she could hear that sprinting note from him, but the song seemed to highlight the other members of the band. Frida had an incredible performance on the lute, plucking the notes and a dizzying speed. Same with each member, all having a unique solo to introduce their sound. The band played the same driving melody in the background while Hiccup stayed playing that same note.

The song came to an end, and the crowd was full of cheers. 

Hiccup sighed in relief and shared a smile with the other players. They all gave him thumbs up. 

“Looks like everyone has found their seats,” said Stoick, his voice booming over the chattering crowd. 

Everyone grew silent, ready to listen. 

“Tonight, we welcome our dear friends from the Shivering Shores, and celebrate their new era with them. Hagar has shown to be a very capable leader, and will surely follow in his father’s legacy.” 

A cheer. 

“We honor our friendship with the Shivering Shores, and we’re grateful for the many years Hamish worked with us. As a thank you, we have a special performance prepared. Specially requested from Hamish himself, my son Hiccup will be joining the band tonight on the fiddle.” 

Another cheer went up through the crowd, and Astrid swore she heard people say “no way” and “he’s so much like his mother” and even “is there anything he can’t do?” 

It made Astrid’s heart swell with pride. 

“Many of you older folks may remember that my dear Valka was a fiddler. Well, as a little boy, Hiccup picked up the instrument and got his instruction from Hamish himself, the best fiddler in the archipelago.” 

“We’ll see about that!” Hamish laughed. 

Stoick grinned. “Hiccup has prepared several unique songs for your listening pleasure this evening. Take it away whenever you’re ready, son.” 

Hiccup had his awkward ‘I know I messed up but please don’t be mad at me’ smile on his face as he shuffled closer to the front. 

He shrugged and said, “sorry in advance.” 

The rest of the band scoffed.

He put the fiddle on his chin, taking several deep breaths. He glanced across the room, lingering on Astrid’s face for a moment. 

She gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. 

Then he looked at Toothless, and actually started to smile a little. 

He turned to the band, and mouthed something to them, though she couldn’t tell what. 

Then he pinched his eyes shut, and set his mouth in a thin line…

And he attacked the fiddle, the bow ripping across the strings with the fervor to make sparks fly if they could. His eyebrows twitched and his nostrils flared as the notes came out rapid fire. His entire body moved with the effort, like it took every fiber of his being to make this wonderful, soul-filling sound. 

“Holy—” Snotlout barked. 

He briefly turned to the band and bobbed his head to bring them in, and a joyful bouncing beat filled the hall. People started stomping and clapping. 

Then the fiddle slowed to a less intense melody, and Hiccup opened his mouth. 

“Years ago, when I was younger, I kinda liked a girl I knew.

Thought she was mine and we were sweethearts. That was then, but then it's true…”

The music cut out, except for a few plucks of the fiddle strings. 

Then Hiccup belted out, while continuing to play. 

“I'm in love with a fairytale! Even though it hurts…

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind, I'm already cursed!” 

He returned to that intense dance with the bow, his heel slamming back on the floor with each beat of the drum. He twisted and jerked, like he was fighting with the music. 

And he was winning.

“Every day, between the fighting, I could have sworn we fell in love.

No one else could make me sadder, but no one else could lift me high above!

I don't know what I was doing, she let me go, we grew apart…

Nowadays, I cannot brave her…” 

He dared to smile.

“But when I do, we'll get a brand new start!” 

He pulled on the strings, a high note that conveyed heartache. Astrid felt it in her chest.

“I'm in love with a fairytale, even though it hurts,

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind, I'm already cursed…”

The band cut out, suddenly, leaving Hiccup to battle the notes on his own. His fingers flew in a flurry, matching the cutting of the bow. Hiccup set his jaw, garnering the strength for the end. A few slower, growing notes, and he sang again.

“She's a fairytale, yeah! Even though it hurts…

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind, I'm already cursed!” 

Astrid had no idea he could sing like that, or even hit that note. It struck her to the core, and she sat breathless and stunned as he played his last battle hymn and ended with a flourish. 

The hall was deafeningly loud with cheers as Hiccup finally, finally opened his eyes to look around. He seemed surprised as he met everyone’s boisterous cheers. 

Dagur launched from his seat and ran to Hiccup, grabbing him in a hug that lifted him off the floor. He laughed maniacally, and Astrid could hear him damn near yell, “that was amazing, brother! The best song I’ve ever heard!” 

Hiccup looked kind of pale, she noticed. 

Once Dagur set him back on his feet, Hiccup used his shoulder to stand upright. 

“Thank you!” He called to the crowd still freaking out. 

“Alright, settle down,” Stoick called, laughter in his voice. 

Once it got quieter, Hiccup said, “thank you, very much. I wasn’t expecting that kind of reception. I uh…I have some more songs for you, but I’m feeling kind of light headed, so I’m going to sit down for a minute.” 

Astrid patted the empty spot beside her, she saved just for him. 

He slid into it, awkwardly smiling. “Hey, how’s it going?” 

“What the hell, Haddock?!” Snotlout shouted. 

“Aww, thanks Snotlout, that means a lot.”

Astrid giggled, and gave Hiccup a pat to the shoulder, the universal ‘I’ll be right back’ sign. She got up and went to get him some water, so he could sit and bask in the praise. 

The band, in Hiccup’s absence, played a reprise of his song, though it sounded really weird without the fiddle. 

Gobber and Hilda belted the lyrics, in an unflattering harmony. 

“I'm in love with a fairytale, even though it hurts,

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind, I'm already cursed!”

She had been so caught up in the music, in the fact that she was finally hearing Hiccup sing and play, she hadn’t paid attention to the lyrics. It was like they had been in a foreign language.

But now, she understood, and her face turned bright red. 

Determined not to be awkward, she returned to her place with the cup of water for him. 

“Thank you, milady!” He raised the glass with a big smile. His eyes were twinkling in the firelight, and his cheeks flushed a handsome pink. 

“You’re welcome,” she replied, voice a little deeper than intended. 

She sat beside him, their arms occasionally brushing in the cramped space. But Astrid really didn’t mind. In fact, she had half a mind to reach over and hold his hand. 

“I don't know what I was doing, she let me go, we grew apart…

Nowadays, I cannot brave her… 

But when I do, we'll get a brand new start!”

So she didn’t hold his hand. She decided that he needed to make that move. Was it petty after he sang her a love song? Maybe. 

Hiccup finished his water, still smiling as the gang animatedly talked. No one broached the yak in the room, ‘hey Hiccup, who was that song about, huh?’ and that was just fine. 

Once the band finished their butchered version of his song, Hiccup patted her shoulder and got up. “Wish me luck, gang,” he chuckled. 

“You don’t need it,” Ruffnut waved him off. 

“Yeah, but Astrid might,” Tuff smirked. 

Astrid blushed fiercely. “I don’t know…what y-you’re talking about…” She tried to be casual, but couldn’t make eye contact with them. 

“You’re hopeless,” said Heather, fondly. 

“Oh shush!” 

Hiccup had his fiddle in hand, and played a sharp note to get attention. He looked a lot less nervous now, and looked around at everyone. “This next song is older. I started writing it while I was training Toothless, before anyone else knew about dragons, before the Red Death…back then, I practiced a lot of speeches where I tried to convince everyone that we didn’t need to fight them. I never ended up successfully delivering those speeches, but I did write this anyway.” He nodded to Frida, who strummed the lute, starting the song. 

Then Hiccup came in, playing a fast tune again, though it wasn’t as intense as the first. He also didn’t have his eyes closed anymore. He was looking directly at Toothless and slowly walked towards him.   

“I have a dream, you are there, high above the clouds somewhere.

Rain is falling from the sky but it never touches you, you're way up high!” 

Toothless perked up, his tongue lulling out as he stood, making light little steps in time with the beats. The rest of the band joined as Hiccup continued to play and sing at the same time. 

“No more worries no more fear, you have made them disappear,

Sadness tried to steal the show, but now it feels like many years ago!”

Hiccup did a little skip hop to be right in front of Toothless, and sang brightly to him.

“And I! I will be with you every step!” 

The band shouted, “Hey! Hey!” While Hiccup leaned it and rubbed his nose against Toothless’. 

“Tonight I found a friend in you, and I'll keep you close forever!” 

He skip-hopped backwards and sang to the room. 

“Come fly with me!” 

The band echoed, “Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Into a fantasy!” 

“Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Where you can be whoever you want to be! Come fly with me!” 

He was on the move again, skipping over to the table and plopping into the spot next to Astrid. He leaned against the table, pretending to be casual, but he looked her dead in the eyes as he sang. 

“We can fly all day long, show me the world, sing me a song,

Tell me what the future holds, you and me will paint it all in gold!” 

Astrid beamed at him, her face hurting from the smile. 

“And I! I will believe your every word!” 

The audience got the prompt and stomped in time “Hey! Hey!” Hiccup leaned in and rubbed his nose against hers, just as he did with Toothless, making her burst into laughter. 

“‘Cause I, I have a friend in you. We'll always stay together!” 

He leapt to his feet, dancing in time with the beat and Toothless’ little prancing. 

“Come fly with me!” 

“Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Into a fantasy!”

“Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Where you can be whoever you want to be. Come fly with me!” 

He played his heart out, barely containing his laughter as Toothless did this adorable little steppy-step right along with him. Then Hiccup stopped his dance, though the smile didn’t leave his face. 

“And I…I will be with you every step.” 

His notes were slow, and his voice was soft, like he was making a promise. He swept his gaze across the hall, singing to the village this time.  

“Tonight I found some friends in you, and I keep you close forever!” 

He beckoned with his head, and smiled widely as a few kids from the back ran up and started dancing with Toothless. Hiccup flipped the fiddle to his side and strummed it like a guitar while Hackjaw kept a steady beat.

“Come fly with me, into a fantasy!

Where you can be whoever you want to be!

Come fly with me!” 

He flipped the fiddle back onto his chin to resume playing normally, but beckoned at the teens table with his head. This got the Twins and Snotlout up and dancing with the kids.

“Come fly with me!” 

“Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Into a fantasy!”

“Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Where you can be whoever you want to be. Come fly with me!” 

As he came to the end of the song, Snotlout grabbed him by the waist, lifting him off the floor and spinning him around. Hiccup didn’t miss a note though, and only laughed as he was rag dolled around. 

The room broke into cheers when the song ended, and Hiccup gave an exaggerated bow. Toothless mimicked this behavior and bowed his head, making his little ear flaps flip around. 

Astrid’s heart was full and ready to burst from her chest. 

She loved him so much. 

Seeing him so happy, having fun and dancing, it almost made her cry tears of joy. She smiled at him, watching as he cooed at Toothless. Then she turned back to her table mates. Fishlegs, Heather, and Dagur were all looking at her with thinly veiled giddy. 

From behind them, she could see her parents, who were even more enthusiastic. 

She rolled her eyes and covered her face with her hand. 

“Alright,” Hiccup said with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll give the band a break.” He plopped down on the floor, using Toothless as a backrest. In turn, Toothless curled up and rested his head in Hiccup’s lap. 

People slowly started to calm down, curious about what was happening next. The children that had been dancing sat down around Toothless, leaning on him too. 

That included the Twins, who draped themselves over him. 

“This next song, I wrote that first Snoggletog we had with the dragons. That year, all of the dragons left a few days before, and we had no idea why. Toothless couldn’t fly on his own, so I made him a tail that he could use by himself. He flew off, to where I assumed the other dragons were. 

“I missed him immediately, and started writing this that same day. You may remember that Snoggletog morning when the dragons returned with a boatload of babies.” 

There were some fond ‘aww’s from the crowd. 

“Well, Toothless wasn’t with those Dragons. It was a lonely few days waiting for answers, but when he finally came back, he brought my helmet I had lost at sea. He had spent all that time getting back what I had lost. He gave me a wonderful gift that year, so I gave him this song. It’s his very special song and he demands I sit on the floor like this when I play it.” 

Toothless warbled in confirmation.

“So…here we go…” He said, without further adieu.  

He held the fiddle up to his chin, but instead of using the bow, he plucked at the strings, playing a lullaby. 

Apparently, Toothless knew exactly what song this was, as he let out a warm rumbling purr. 

“It's almost night, I should be sleeping.

But the moon's so bright, as if it's playing with me.

Round and round, I walk in circles aimlessly.

Where could you be?”

The twins, without prompting, started snapping on the beat and rocking side to side.

“The purple skies were so inviting when we used to fly.

But the excitement slowly fades away.

Feels like there's nothing I wanna do.

Not without you.” 

Hiccup leaned his head back, eyes closed and relaxed, as he sang in a falsetto.

“And I will cry you a thousand tears the day you will return.

Tonight I swear, I'll stay right here until you will return.”

Sven picked up his Nyckleharpa, but tapped on it instead, making soft percussion. Hacksaw hit his drum ever so gently with his hand. Frida plucked the same notes on her lute, letting Hiccup go back to his bow.

“And every little cloud, and every single star, reminds me of just how much I miss you. And every little cloud, and every single star, reminds me of just how much I miss you.”

The band crept closer, softly harmonizing as Hiccup played his song. Toothless looked around to them, smiling, as everyone was singing his special song. 

“And I will cry you a thousand tears the day you will return.

Tonight I swear, I'll stay right here until you will return.”

Then Hiccup bowed a gentle waltz, one that might be played at a wedding. A warm, happy melody. Sven harmonized. 

“And I will cry you a thousand tears the day you will return.

Tonight I swear, I'll stay right here until you will return.” 

Slowly, the band faded out until it was just Hiccup plucking those soft notes.

“And every little cloud, and every single star, reminds me of just how much I miss you.” 

Hiccup smiled at Toothless, and just as he took his fingers away from the strings, Toothless warbled a loud ‘wah wah wah!’ that Astrid swore sounded like he was trying to sing. 

“Yeah bud! Every little cloud!”

“Wah wah wah!” 

“And every single star.” He chuckled.

Most people were too busy cooing to applaud. Astrid included. She held her hands over her heart, feeling all those warm and fuzzy un-viking feelings in her chest. 

She heard a loud sniff, and turned to see Dagur, Snotlout, and Fishlegs crying. Fishlegs just had tears, Snotlout was weeping openly, and Dagur was bawling uncontrollably. 

“That was beautiful,” Dagur whimpered. “He has the most beautiful soul.” 

Heather, who was only a little misty-eyed, looked at Astrid and rolled her eyes. “Boys.” 

Astrid chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye before joining in the remainder of the applause. 

“Alright, I’ve heard enough,” said Hamish, standing without the use of his cane. His face was serious, and solemn. 

“Wh-what? Did I–did I do something wrong!?” Hiccup struggled to stand with the fiddle still in hand. “If you didn’t like those, I can play something traditional! I just thought—”

Hamish held up a hand to stop him. “Hiccup. You…are a damn fine fiddler.” 

Hiccup relaxed slightly. “So then—” 

“It's time for your final test.” 

Hiccup stared, wide-eyed. “Really? You think I’m that good?” 

“Fiddler on the Roof!” Tuffnut yelled. 

“Is this not a good enough final test!?” Snotlout yelled a beat after. 

Hamish moved his cloak aside. “It’s time for you and I to do battle. As master and apprentice.” From under his cloak, he withdrew his own wooden case, and his own fiddle. 

Hiccup gulped. 

Hamish smiled, good naturedly. He brandished the shiny black instrument. “I’ll hold you to that last song, but now, we play Shades.” 

“Shades!?” Hiccup yelled. “Are you—are you sure?” 

“You are ready, my boy. Hagar, will you join us on vocals?” 

Hagar laughed. “You’re roping me into this too?” But he stood anyway. 

“What’s Shades?” Astrid asked Fishlegs. 

“Don’t look at me! I don’t know anything about this kind of music!” 

It seemed that Hamish heard her question and answered, “Shades is a piece written by my mentor. It’s difficult, but the perfect piece to test my students with. The difficulty lies in performing it with two fiddles.”

Hiccup nodded in agreement. “But I’m willing to try.” 

Hamish smiled at him. “That’s a good lad! You’ll take the high part.” He pulled a long note off his strings. Then he turned to the band and told them, “A Minor.” 

Then he and Hiccup took a stance, staring at each other. A breath passed, then two.

In a blink, they started playing a frantic gallop in time. The notes started rising, climbing an invisible ladder through the air. Always harmonizing, never falling out of sync. Hackjaw was the only one that joined in, playing a syncopated beat on the drum. Then the fiddles both calmed down to a whisper, and Hagar sang. 

“In a forest without any trees, where feelings and memories superimposed by an image of you are caught on the morning dew.” 

A duel, trading notes back and forth, taking over each other’s parts. 

“Swim in a lake at the first light of day, where children and swans go to play right in the wake of your perfect body and sing of unity.”

Right at the last line, they jumped it, keeping strides with each other. Like running a race, but they were matching each step for step. Hiccup kept his eyes locked with Hamish, watching his hands as he played.

“A Shiv’ring garden where willows grow tall, their shadows caught on a wall.

The sound of weeping so soft in the breeze, a bustle of falling leaves.” 

Soft notes, punctuating each line, soft swells, not distracting, just accenting. Matching tone, volume, intensity. 

Astrid was riveted. She didn’t know much about fiddling, much less any music, but performing like this without practicing together had to be very hard. Impossible even. 

“A night has many shades. It can last for many days and hurt in many ways, 

like the force of a rising tide when the moon floats by.”  

The song seemed to come to an end. Slow, drawn out notes that seemed to gently set everyone down from the heights they had been climbing. 

But then Hamish pulled a triplet, a quick back and forth of the bow. Hiccup returned it. Hamish did it back. Then Hiccup began his sprinting note, and Hamish was right there, meeting it in speed. They grew louder and louder, changing pitch, changing tempos, hitting notes at a dizzying speed of variation. Each one had to be perfect. 

Hiccup’s eyes widened as a grin began to tug at his lips. This was the final sprint, this was it! 

They played that final climb, hitting a high note and jumping off the ladder into silence. 

They both stared at each other, panting, before breaking out into laughter. 

“Did I actually do it!?” Hiccup laughed breathlessly. 

“Aye lad! Every single note! You’ve been practicing, don’t lie!” 

“Of course I have! Ever since I fumbled when I was a kid, it haunted me. I didn’t think I had it down yet though!” 

“Oh, you’ve done an old viking proud, you know. I’m thinking of taking on more students now that I’m retired from chiefing. It’ll give me something good to do! I might call on you to show ‘em how to do it right.” 

“Oh, I don’t know if I can do it like that again.” 

“Sure you can! And next time, it’ll be even better.” 

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Hamish.” 

For the third time that evening, Hiccup was picked up in a hug and lifted off the floor. “The boy has passed! I can teach him no more!” 

The assembled cheered, not all comprehending what exactly had happened, but happy for Hiccup all the same. 

Hamish set him back on his feet. “Alright lad, your old man said you got one more song for me. About a girl?” 

Hiccup’s face went bright red and he put his free hand to his cheek. “Oh gods…he sure promised you that, huh?” 

“Darn tootin’! I’ve enjoyed the rest! I’m sure this will be great!” Then he put an arm around him and spoke to him so softly no one else could hear. Hiccup responded just as quiet, before Hamish burst out laughing. He gave the boy a punch to the shoulder, and exclaimed, “go get her, boy-o~!” 

Hiccup gulped, and straightened his clothes nervously. 

“We’re doing the last one now, lad?” Gobber asked, grinning. 

“Uh oh! Is this the one?!” Stoick barked, standing from his seat. 

“Sit down, dad!” Hiccup shouted back, face as red as can be. “Gods preserve me.” He looked back at the band, making sure they were all ready to go. Then he spoke up to the room. “This is my last song for you this evening. I hope you all have enjoyed this little…uh, concert? It was certainly not expected. But your warm reception is appreciated!” 

“Whooo! Go Hiccup!” Tuffnut screamed.

He released an awkward laugh. “Yeah, thanks…um.” He brought the fiddle up to rest on his shoulder. “This song…I wrote a really long time ago. Before I met Toothless even. It’s uh…it’s still true though…” he trailed off. He nodded to the band, getting a beat. 

Instead of instruments, they all clapped in time, before Hiccup started singing, his face still a bright red. 

“This feeling lasted,

I love you, Astrid!

You're so much stronger than me,

But I don't mind!” 

Astrid’s jaw dropped, her own face going as red as his. Hiccup began playing a jaunty tune, making Toothless pop to his feet and start dancing again. 

“Never mind what the others say, deep inside I'm quite okay.

I may have messed up once or twice, but I really need you!” 

He dared to look at her.

“And it's not like I'm the only guy. Oh, I know how you make them cry.

So let's start by being friends and let this friendship never end.

I knew you years ago. What I want, I don't know. But let’s just say it's love!” 

Playing the fiddle and having Toothless prancing around gave Hiccup a lot of confidence. That, or just getting those first words out was the hardest part. But now, he was smiling, and hop-skipping around while he played. 

“This feeling lasted, I love you, Astrid!

You're so much stronger than me, but I don't mind! 

Don't say maybe, just be my lady!

No need to hesitate 'cause you'll be fine!”

Hiccup could, on occasion, be extremely corny. Even now, when he was just playing, he had this faux bashful smile on his face, like he had no clue what he was doing to her. The blush seemed genuine enough. 

“So tell me what I want to hear,

No wait, let's just leave it there.

You know I'm not good for you!

Gods, I don't know what to do!”

Stoick had said he sang this song with passion, and he was right! Hiccup belted out the words, like he was making a grand proclamation. 

“I liked you from the start!

You melt my icy heart!

And now it's burning hot!”

In retrospect, she always knew he was a performer. He’d always had a streak of the dramatic. Like when he tried to tame the Nightmare during his final exam. Or whenever he revealed one of his inventions. If he was going to do something, it was going to be a grand spectacle. Why was this any different? 

“This feeling lasted, I love you, Astrid!

You're so much stronger than me, but I don't mind!

Don't say maybe, just be my lady

No need to hesitate 'Cause you'll be fine!”

He got down on one knee in front of her, looking up at her with big glistening eyes that would put Toothless to shame. 

“Don't go away, you're what's left of me!

I once believed you would save my soul.

But if you saw me now crying secretly,

Would you hold my hand and never let it go?”

He flipped the fiddle to his side and strummed it like a guitar. His voice became softer, tender. Now just singing to her, and no one else. 

“This feeling lasted, I love you, Astrid!

You're so much stronger than me, but I don't mind!

Don't say maybe, just be my lady!

No need to hesitate 'Cause you'll be fine!”

He popped back up onto his feet, and threw his head back, making his grand declaration into the room. 

“Do you hear me, Astrid?

I still love you, Astrid!

I’m getting stronger now, hope you don’t mind!

Don't say maybe, just be my lady

Your parents are bugging me, knowing you'll be fine!”

I love you, Astrid! How long had she waited to hear those words from him? Too long, it seemed. But this seemed worth the wait. 

All there was left to do was wait for him to move that damn fiddle out of the way. 

He finished his song, flushed but smiling as he gave her a little shrug. 

Astrid bolted from her seat, flung her arms around his neck, and kissed him hotly on the lips. In a way she had been wanting to for years, but hadn’t quite had the nerve to do like when she was younger. 

She was still able to hear him squeak despite the cacophony that filled the large room. 

Shouts of “finally!” And “you owe me ten gold” were totally drowned out in the absolute satisfaction she felt, finally kissing Hiccup. 

Someone must have taken his fiddle for him as she felt his arms wrap around her and pull her tight. 

Finally, she pulled away, a little winded. His face was priceless. He was dazed, but had this awed and lovestruck smile on his lips. 

She played with his hair, then declared, “I don’t know much about music, but…

“Ooh Hiccup, I love you Hiccup! 

You’re such a dork, you see? 

But I don’t mind! 

Won’t say maybe, I’ll be your lady! 

I know you’ll take care of me, and I’ll be fine!”

He smiled broadly and pulled her in for another kiss. 

“What a way to end a concert!” Hamish yelled from his table. “Way to go, lad!” 

“I owe you a thank you, Hamish. I never would have done this if you hadn’t requested it.” 

“Anytime, my boy! Always happy to help!” 

—

The Shivering Shores stayed for three days, and in that time, Hiccup spent some time with Hamish, teaching him his songs. He played with the band during dinners, and over all, didn’t seem as secretive as he had been the last week. Everyone knew now, and he accepted that he was good. He was no longer hesitant, but actually allowed himself to show off.

When it was time to return to the Edge, Astrid spied the wooden case among his baggage. 

“You’re taking it with you?” 

“Might as well, might help me think while I’m planning on how to deal with the hunters. It’s helped in the past.” 

“Are you going to give us something to listen to on the way back?” Asked Snotlout. “Gods forbid I have to listen to the Twins bicker for another 8 hours!” 

“You want me to fly and play at the same time?” 

“Oh like Toothless isn’t doing most of the work!” 

Hiccup couldn’t argue with that.

Once they were up in the air and on their way, Hiccup made a great show out of taking out the fiddle and tuning it. Agonizing over each note. 

“We know it’s tuned! You’ve been playing it all weekend! It’s tuned!” Snotlout shouted. 

Hiccup snorted. “Alright alright, let’s see…” He drew a long note out and sang. 

“Ohhhh I got my ax and I got my mace and I love my wife with the ugly face, I’m a viking through and through!!”

And he was promptly relieved of entertainment duties. 

—-

A week later, things were back to normal. The twins had done a number on the Edge, and repairs and restocks were needed. 

Hiccup and Astrid were up to their necks with duties, busy with work and barely could find a moment to relax, let alone have some time together. 

It was late one night when Astrid laid in bed, exhausted but unable to sleep. She kept going over her lists in her mind, making sure she hadn’t missed anything. 

The silence of the night was interrupted by the soft trill of a fiddle. No particular song, just notes floating around. Fast, slow, but mostly quiet. 

Hiccup was also awake and thinking. 

She got up and wandered over to his hut. His door was open, and he paced back and forth, with the fiddle on his shoulder. He was obviously talking to himself, but it was quiet and muffled by the music. 

“Babe?” She asked, just loud enough.

He jolted. “Astrid! Oh! I didn’t wake you, did I? I’m sorry, I knew I shouldn’t have—“ he went to put the instrument away, but Astrid reached out and stopped him. “No, you didn’t wake me. I was already up. And it was so quiet I probably wouldn't have heard it if I was asleep.” 

He sighed in relief. 

“Then what’s up?” 

“Well, I could tell you were awake, and…I wanted to see you.” 

His face colored. “Yeah?” 

“Hmmhmm. You don’t have to stop what you’re doing. I kinda like the idea of my own private performance.” 

He shyly smiled, then put the fiddle back on his shoulder. 

—

Fishlegs had night patrol. He opted to take Meatlug out for a relaxing flight around the island. He saw Astrid sneak over to Hiccup’s hut, but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t his business. He heard Hiccup playing the fiddle, a lovely little melody. 

Then he heard a sharp, off key note, followed by silence. 

He may be on patrol, but he had a feeling they didn’t want him to investigate. 

------

One time in Highschool, we had a talent show. Know that I went to a very tiny private school, and everyone knew everyone (20 people in my grade). There was this guy in my class, Kevin, who was pretty stoic and quiet. For the talent show, he rode a unicycle while juggling and telling jokes. No one knew he could do that. Even the kids that knew him from Kindergarten. 

Songs: Seasoned Oak - King Arthur and the Legend of the Sword

Fairytale - Alexander Rybak

Into a Fantasy - Alexander Rybak

Return (For Toothless) - Alexander Rybak

Shades- Árstídir

OAH- Alexander Rybak (heavily rewritten, and I actually prefer the strings of the Russian version ‘Strela Amura’ better.)

[taegularities]

some men are textbook villains fr

[quadrantbreaker]

a vessel hollowed out to be imparted

[kurtcore]

cried at work today! i’m now 3/3 for crying at jobs :)

[vulpinesaint]

i'm gonna start wearing catholic iconography for real. i'm gonna start being really insane about catholicism in my day to day life. noooooo you don't understand i mean it for Real this time i've been extremely normal about it so far

[deathpxrception]

I swear there’s no such thing as normal people in my life IRL anymore

[angel---eater]

I love being the only not-cis person in group therapy, btw. Love it. I tried to bring up how dysphoria is contributing to my difficulty with mood regulation and like, absolutely no one in that call understood wtf I was talking about, lol. That weird, pervasive gendering of Cluster B happened last session though, and it was viscerally uncomfortable on my end, but everyone else in the fuckin' Google Meets room or whatever just nodded in understanding like that shit was scientific fact. Like it got fully bioessentialist up in there for a minute. Cis people are so fuckin' weird.

[hedge-rambles]

So I missed this because my shift started an hour after this went down but my co-worker filled me in. It's been six long years since and I still lose it over The Dreamies Fiasco. So it was a little corner shop, sold all sorts of essentials y'know, and we often got some weird customers because of the area it was in (lot of freaks and weirdos around there, for example, I lived under 100m down the road).

But the wildest story was of a woman had been in earlier in the day and bought a packet of Dreamies, which are like these little biscuit-y cat treats. Cats go absolutely mental for them, and they were in little sachets on a hanging strip on the pet-food shelves. That in itself is of course not weird, it's a shop, people buy things. No, the weird bit was that she came back about half an hour later, furious and demanding a refund.

"What was the problem?" you ask? Well you see, she had thought they were human snacks, had bought them and proceeded to eat almost half the bag before noticing they were, in fact, cat treats. For the record, this is what a pack of Dreamies looks like:

And so my co-worker had to carefully explain to this woman that we cannot refund an opened, half eaten pack of cat treats just because she didn't read the package properly and felt silly about eating half a bag of cat treats. That no, this wasn't our fault, nor some sort of false advertising, yes we sell bags of sweeties on similar hanging strips but not on the pet-food shelves. That is not false advertising.

[strawbuddy-luv]

Trans Tim off handedly mentioning random things that just confuse people more and more because he never told them he was trans (only Bruce and Alfred know)

Tim: "For the mission I'm thinking I'll go undercover, but it'll take some work to hide the bruises I got earlier. They're everywhere"

Dick: "Oh I think Steph is free right now!"

Tim: "...Ok?"

Dick: "Don't worry I'm sure she'll help you out with this! "

Tim: "That's awesome but I don't think I'll need help. I know how to use makeup."

Dick: "Really-? Ohhh, yeah your public image is like, way more public than ours. That must be tiring, having to hide the bruises all the time."

Tim: "Well yeah but I knew how to use makeup before that. For like, galas as a kid and stuff"

Dick: "...yeah..."

-----

Steph: -Complaining about a man- "And then he said "Oh you should smile more" like "you look like you don't want to be here" like what- what the fuck-??? Maybe I fucking don't dude."

Tim: "Oh yeah I hate when they do that. Like you've spent the entire time bitching about the consistency of snails, I can close my mouth for a few seconds."

Steph: "..."

Tim: "...What-?"

Steph: "Well- I mean yeah but- you know I have to deal with it like...way more, and it's just a bit weird that like, you as a guy are, I dunno, trying to relate? I mean you don't have to deal with it litreally everyday"

Tim: "Well yeah not anymore, but, you know...I still did."

Steph: :...What-"

-----

Tim: -Resting against one of the rooftop ledges-

Jason: "Woah, I can't believe it, Red Robin, slacking. What would Bruce do if he saw this!"

Tim: "Fuck off, it's just period cramps." -Jumps off the edge of the building-

Jason: "Yeah whatever Timblina...

Your fucking what-"

-----

Bruce: "And for this mission, we'll be needing someone for the Caroline disguise, but we already know who that is so-"

Dick: "Wait does Steph actually know how to fight in heels-??"

Bruce: "...N-"

Steph: "Yeah Bruce, I mean, you could at least actually ask me before volunteering me to go fight crime in that dress."

Bruce: "You-"

Jason: "I mean no offense, but literally who else would do it? Cass isn't here right now and I don't think any of us are willing to get a boob job for the mission"

Bruce: "No one's getting a boob job-"

Steph: "Yeah! This is bat tech, Bruce probably has ultra realistic titties in everyone's color and size! Jason you wouldn't even need an attachment."

Jason: "I don't think Caroline Hills has fifty gun shot wounds and muscles the size of most those guys heads."

Steph: "Yeah bu-"

Bruce: "None of that will be necessary because none of you" -Pointing at the right side of the table- "Will be going. No one at this table will be needing any prosthetics...Or boob jobs."

Steph: "...Ok but who the fuck is going then-"

Bruce: "Tim."

The entire table: "..."

Steph: "Tim are you really willing to put on boobs for this-"

Dick: "I don't think that's the best idea-"

Jason: "You just said no prosthetics- Oh this'll be fucking rich"

Tim: "...

I...wouldn't need a boob job?? Or prosthetics?"

Jason: "Timbo, that dress is a pretty low cut, and, no offense, your training hasn't given you that many enhancements."

Tim: "...Thank you for the binding compliment?"

Dick: "The what-"

Tim: "Guys I- I already have boobs-"

The Table: "..."

Steph: "WHAT-"

Dick: "You do-?!"

Jason: "Bruce if you made Tim get boobs for some weird mission-"

Tim: "What- No! No one made me get boobs??? Besides, I don't know, biology I guess??? Genetics maybe???"

Dick: "...I'm extremely confused"

Steph: "WHO GAVE YOU BOOBS-???"

Tim: "I'm not really sure seeing as I was born with them"

Dick: "...

OHHHHHH-"

Steph: "What- is this like a birth defect or something???"

Dick: "Tim- Tim I think you're just gonna have to-"

Tim: "I'm trans."

Jason: "...That's-

Yeah

Ok yeah no that- that explains...a lot."

Steph: "..." -Head in hands- "I am such a fucking idiot"

[sturnsdarling]

'Chris likes girls who don't like him back'

Late night streaming with your best friends turns to a conversation about the boys' type, and Chris gets called out

vibe check: flirty fluffy fun, 3/4 of my favourite f words

1.4k words

A/N: i had this idea literally straight away after what Matt said about Chris' type.........the idea of being Chris' best friend that he openly fancies but you're 'not interested' makes MY TOES CURL BRO LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING anyway I hope you love this. PART TWO IS INCOMING…

love and cigs, merc

"Matt he's right there what the fuck are you doing?!" you scream down the mic, nearly throwing your controller across the room as you jolt back in your chair.

You watch as Matt gets sniped in the head from the back, laughing as he wails on this desk, making the whole stream glitch and nearly crash. Chris is laughing along with you, trying not to make it obvious that he's watching you, and not Matt.

"Matt, bro you need to fuckin' up your game, y/n/n is actually carrying us right now." Chris says as Matt picks his chair up off the floor and sits back down in a huff.

"I always carry when I come on with you boys" you smirk, looking at the tiny square of Chris on your screen.

"yeah because you're a little sweat" Matt chuckles.

The boys had been streaming everyday for over a week now and, after some convincing, they managed to get you to join in on one of their games. At first you were apprehensive, obviously, but they explained that they were trying to diversify their platform and find a more mature audience so, actually interacting with girls on the internet was their first step.

You and the boys had been friends for forever, you met them through Nick in elementary school and had basically all been inseparable ever since, you'd been in some earlier videos but the fans back then made it very difficult to just exist around them so, you took it upon yourself to only exist in their real life, not their online one.

Cut to right now, you're nearly two hours deep in fortnite trios with the boys on stream, everyone was super excited to see you when they announced that they'd be joining and, other than a couple comments that you all ignored, it was going really well.

"Matt, someone asked what our types are" Chris laughed, reading the chat.

"I'm not answering that" Matt dead panned, screwing his face up at the camera

"I can answer it for you both, for sure" you chuckle, "chat do you want me to answer it?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes, omg yes" Chris was reeling off the answers in chat, "everyone wants y/n/n to answer, Matt should we let her?" Chris asked.

Matt rolled his eyes with a smile, "g'head, y/n/n, expose us" He chuckled.

"okay, so" you said, in your best girly gossip voice, "Matt likes nerdy, reader, soft girls" you begin to explain, your train of thought is interrupted by Chris erupting into laughter.

"dude she's so right! you love a girl that looks like she's always buried in a book" Chris wails.

"what are you guys even saying?" Matt complains, the smile etched across his face giving his tone a lot less power.

"you definitely want a girl who will go on a hike with you or some shit, Matt" You say, enjoying this whole interaction a bit too much.

Chris was keeled over in laughter, loving finally being able to talk about this kind of stuff on the internet without everyone going insane.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, Chris, you're next" Matt states, Chris shrugs in reply.

"i don't give a fuck, call me out y/n/n, gimme the best you got" Chris sits back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

"hmmmm" you say, exaggerating your thinking, "what is the famous Christopher Sturniolos type" you rub your chin, pretending to be thinking deeply.

A knowing smirk is spread wide across Chris' face as he stares at your face on his screen, tongue prodding the side of his cheek.

"I know Chris' type" Matt adds, a menacing smile on his face.

"g'head matt, you take this one" you gesture to the boy on your screen.

"Chris likes girls who don't like him back" Matts brows raise in accusation towards Chris.

You try and hide the smile forming on your face, attempting to look as focused on the game as possible as your tongue prods at your teeth. Neither of the boys say anything, both of them cheesing, Matt in a teasing and knowing kind of way and Chris more so in a 'I cant say what I wanna say' kind of way.

"damn, Matt, you just called me the fuck out" Chris shakes his head, looking to the tiny version of you on his screen.

You're still quiet, trying to fight the smile on your face and look as focused as possible, you catch Chris looking as if he's looking at you on his screen and shake your head with a chuckle.

"what you grinnin' at, kid?" Chris smirks.

You raise your brows, shaking your head with a downwards smile, "no, nothin', nothin" you say, returning your focus back to the game.

All of the viewers watched the interaction and were blowing up the chat with comments about how Chris definitely likes you, saying things like 'did you guys see that?!', and 'think they're slick look at how they're both smiling!!!!!'. Chris was reading the comments and trying to hide the red blush crawling its way onto his cheeks, Matt was relishing in the fact that Chris was so obviously nervous, and you were just trying not to react.

"Chris, dude, you better wipe that smile off your face, chat's onto you" Matt pokes the bear.

"chat ain't onto shit, Matt, shut the fuck up" Chris says, trying to be serious but unable to push his smile down.

"you know i'm right though, you do like girls who don't want you" Matt pushed on with his joke.

"Matt, shut your fuckin' mouth, dude" Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head, his smile still prevalent.

You couldn't help but laugh, still pretending to not care about the situation unfolding. In hindsight, it probably made it all the more obvious that you knew exactly what Matt was referring to.

"you're awful quiet, y/n/n, you got nothing to say on Chris' type?" Matt extends his joke over to you and your attention is immediately on him.

"nah, you hit the nail on the head, I think" you shrug, stretching back in your chair and adjusting your headset.

"oh really?" Chris replies, brows raised in accusation.

"mhm" you nod, faux innocently.

Chris kisses his teeth, nodding and trying to hide the smile on his face once again.

"yeah, chat, Matts right, I like pretty girls, who don't like me back" Chris says, subtly turning his attention to you and then back to chat.

You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning forward once more to lock into the game.

"you're ridiculous, Chris" Matt chuckles into the mic, watching you shift in your seat, trying not to blush.

The rest of the game went off without a hitch, you guys went on to win multiple times and all the viewers eventually stopped trying to get the conversation back to Chris' obvious crush on you. You played until the early hours of the morning, joking and laughing with the boys' just like old times and relishing in the fact that you were finally able to be a part of their online presence again. When it hit around three a.m you told them you had to sign off, explaining that you had to be up early for college that morning.

"guys, I gotta go, but I'll text you when I wake up" you said, pulling off your headset, and brushing your hair back with your hand.

"alright, y/n/n, thanks for helping us bury kids, its always a treat" Matt grinned at you, shooting you his token boyish smile.

"you know I live to humble kids on fort, Matt" You shrugged, putting on your best boyish persona, earning a laugh from Matt

"okay seriously, I gotta go, bye chat!" you smile, "bye boys" you go to switch off your computer but you're stopped by Chris booming voice.

"bye, beautiful" he says, a cheesy grin on his face.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as an uncontrollable smile finds your lips, "bye, Chris" you reply, switching off your computer.

The whole chat erupts with people losing their minds over Chris calling you beautiful, the boys say nothing, Matt just shakes his head, laughing at the chat as he watches Chris, grinning with pride and completely unashamed of his very obvious crush on you.

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