#everyone thinks we can do each other’s jobs

[mariclerc]

Student's secret | cl16

Summary: what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas... or in a pole dance club.

Warnings: mental health issues, toxic work environment, mentions of drugs and sex, uni student reader, denigrating comments, angst and a little fluff at the end.

Living or spending a few days in the city of sin is a dream come true for many people, it is the place where everything is possible, where anything can happen: Luxuries and eccentricities are the order of the day throughout the year and rules and formalities are something banal and outdated for many.

For you it is like being in a cage, many people are forced to lead a double life, one where during the day they do their routine things but at night they try to do something to survive... Just like your case... Being a uni student, it is a bit difficult to bear the expenses of tutors, food, clothes, rent and other things, especially being exposed to the city of luxuries at such a young age, most of the time you find it difficult to make ends meet, so you decided to look for a job during the holidays to, at least, have enough money to make it to the end of the year without any problems... But you didn't think that what started as a temporary job would become a permanent job.

That's why you find yourself touching up your makeup backstage at a pole dance club, this has been your night life for 4 months straight, today is different because you have to work an extra day due to a special show.

Lila, your boss, enters backstage, drawing everyone's attention. “Listen up ladies, tonight we will have a special show because the F1 action in Las Vegas starts on Wednesday, so we will only be open today - Tuesday night, and tomorrow.” she said with a cocky smile on her face. “Plus we have some special people in the audience tonight, so get your shit together or else... You'll be dealing with me.” she said.

Most of the time when there is a big event that paralyzes the city you work only 3 days and the other days you use to rest, but this is enough because you assume from what Lila says, that the drivers will be making an appearance at the club tonight. Plus your shift is only supposed to be Thursday through Sunday, not Tuesday.

You sighed. “I don't want to do this Lila...” you say softly.

She stops and turns her gaze to you. “What do you mean? You know you have a contract, right?” she spats.

“But this is not my shift and I feel too uncomfortable and exposed.” you say. “This was supposed to be a summer-only job, and...” you were going to continue but she interrupted you.

“But anyway, you signed the contract and besides, you need money for your stupid shit, right?” she said and you blinked multiple times. “So you're gonna put on a good show tonight or else I'll make you spend the night with one of the patrons, was it clear to you?”

The patrons are the ones who keep the club afloat, they invest a lot of money in you and in drinks, drugs and so on. In the few months you've been there you've witnessed some pretty... nasty stuff, drugged up coworkers forced to have sex with one of these guys so they can give them some extra money. Luckily for you, you haven't been forced to do anything similar, you just dance and do the occasional VIP service, extra tip and that's it, but seeing the consequences of not wanting to work today, you have to put up with it.

“Okay miss...” you murmured shyly.

Lila smiled. “Everyone, be ready for our customers tonight.” she said and continued walking, you sighed.

You take a deep breath, wiping away a tear that came out of your eyes, smudging lightly your mascara, before stepping into the spotlight. You and your other companions go out on stage, you notice how the patrons are sitting up front with their drinks and cigarettes, as usual, but you notice new faces; most of the drivers are sitting in the VIP booth, each one sitting alone or with his colleagues. The music starts, and you begin your routine, trying to mask your emotions with your performance. As you dance, you catch glimpses of a driver who's watching you intently, his expression shifting from amusement to concern.

After finishing your routine, you watch as your boss motions for you to go the VIP booth number 16, you walk over there, your heart pounding in your chest. The driver is smiling, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes.

He's smiles gently. “Hey there, that was an incredible performance up there.” he says softly.

“Thanks, I... I appreciate it.” you say while forcing a smile.

You notice the way he studies you, his gaze lingering on the redness in your eyes and the light smudge under it. He hesitates for a moment before speaking again... “Are you okay? You seem… a bit upset.” he asks you softly.

You sighed. “It’s just been a long night... Nothing to worry about.” you whispered as you lied.

He nodded. “I can imagine, this place looks so intense.”

You look around the club, feeling the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on you.

“It can be... Overwhelming at times.” you say quietly.

The music shifts to a slower tempo, creating a more intimate atmosphere around your conversation. You stand before Charles and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Charles watches you with a mix of excitement, care and curiosity, his coloured eyes sparkling under the dim lights.

He smiles gently. “So, what do you say, little star? Just a little private dance to lighten the mood?” he says softly while calling you by your stage name.

“I mean... If that's what you want...” you say a little hesitant.

He nods reassuringly. “Trust me, it’ll be fun... Just be yourself.”

You feel a rush of adrenaline at his words. You’ve performed many times before, you've even done private dances several times with not so nice customers, but this feels different—more personal and somewhat intimate. You nod slowly, trying to shake off your nerves.

“Okay... I'll do it.” you say softly.

Charles grins, and you can see the excitement in his eyes. You step back slightly to create some space, allowing yourself to get into the right headspace... The music shifts to a sultry tune, and you begin to move to the rhythm.

As you dance, you focus on Charles, letting the music guide your movements. You sway your hips and let your body flow with the beat, feeling the tension ease away with each step. Charles leans back against the plush booth, watching you intently.

“You're incredible...” he whispers.

His words send a thrill through you, and you find yourself getting lost in the moment... You let go of any lingering doubts and worries and you just embrace the performance. You glide closer to him, allowing your body to move in sync with his gaze.

You continue your dance, incorporating playful movements that make him laugh and smile. The connection between you feels electric, and you find yourself enjoying this more than you anticipated.

“How's this for a private dance?” you asked him playfully, using your confident facade.

He grins. “It's perfect... More than I expected...”

You lock eyes with him, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away. The laughter and chatter from other tables become a distant hum as you focus solely on him. As you move closer again, you notice how he leans forward, captivated by your performance. You playfully run your fingers along his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. You continue dancing, letting your body express what words cannot. You swirl around him, feeling free and alive as you lose yourself in the rhythm. The music pulses through your veins, and you can see the admiration in Charles' eyes as he watches you.

“You're amazing... This is better than I imagined.” he says with a low voice.

You smile at his compliment, feeling a rush of confidence surge through you, customers rarely compliment you or the girls. You step closer again, brushing against him as you dance, feeling the warmth radiating from his body.

As the last notes of the song fade away, you take a deep breath and step back, allowing yourself to bask in the moment.

He clapped softly to you. “That was incredible! You really know how to put on a show.”

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. The energy between you is palpable as he leans forward slightly.

“I think that deserves a special tip...” he says while grinning. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crisp stack of bills, holding them up with a playful glint in his eye. “What do you think? Is this enough? Or do you need more than that?” he says softly.

Your heart races as he counts out a hefty amount of cash that was wrapped in a paper before handing it to you with an appreciative smile. You wouldn't believe it, it was a big tip.

“Wow! Are... Are you serious?” you said surprised. “I can't take it, I'm...” you were about to say but he gently stopped you.

He smiled. “Don't say that, you deserve it! You deserve every bit of it for that amazing performance.”

You take the money from him, feeling a mix of gratitude and disbelief. It’s more than you expected for just one dance. “Tha... Thank you so much! This really means a lot to me.” you say softly.

“You earned it. And I hope this helps with whatever you're working towards.” He said sweetly and that made you stop.

“How... How do you know that...” you said in a low voice.

He looked around the club and then looked at you before slowly approaching you.

“There's no need to say anything, little star... Your gaze, those lost little eyes told me everything I need to know.” he said softly in a whisper. “Sometimes a look is enough to know a little bit about a person.” he said softly and you were shocked, you never thought that an F1 driver would be so empathetic and deeper.

“Wow, that was... Yeah...” you murmured. “Thank you again...” you say and pause, you still don't know his name.

“Oh, I'm Charles Leclerc.” he said formally. “But just call me Charles.” he smiled.

“Y/n” You answered him by giving him your name. You were going to tell him something else, but the bell indicating that you and the girls had to go backstage ruined the moment.

He smiled. “Well, I think they need you in there.” he said softly. “I really enjoyed this evening, the dancing was spectacular.” he said and you blushed.

“Y/n! Get your fucking slutty ass here!” your boss yelled harshly and you shook your head.

“I have to go, but thanks again Charles.” you said softly.

“It was nothing. Take care y/n, I hope to see you soon.” he said softly and you walked backstage.

As you entered your small dressing room you looked at the amount of money Charles had given you and a tear ran down your cheeks. You had never received such good treatment from a customer, the warmth and security of his person contrasting with the coldness and toxicity of the place. You sighed and put the money in your briefcase, thankful that someone had noticed your tearful gaze despite not saying anything about the anxiety and fear that constantly fill your life.

***

The weeks following your encounter with Charles unfold in a blur of routine and reflection. You find yourself back in the familiar rhythm of your daily life, but the vibrant energy of that night lingers in your mind like a bittersweet memory. The club’s atmosphere has shifted, and the pressures of your job weigh heavily on you.

You're sitting on your bed, surrounded by textbooks and notes from your psychology classes. The sunlight filters through the window, but it feels dimmer than usual, you flip through your notes absentmindedly, thoughts drifting back to that night.

“It was just one night… why can’t I stop thinking about it?” you say to yourself, while flipping through your notebook.

You recall Charles’s laughter, the way he looked at you with genuine interest and care, and the way he made you feel seen. But as days turn into weeks, that memory becomes a painful reminder of what you’re missing in your life.

You shake your head, trying to focus on your studies. But the thoughts keep creeping back in—what if you had exchanged numbers? What if you opened up to him and told him what you were going through at that very moment it didn't matter if he was a complete stranger? The “what ifs” swirl around like a storm in your mind... You couldn't fall in love with a stranger, much less an F1 driver, you're not supposed to let anyone into your life.

A few nights later, you’re back at work, but the energy feels different. The once vibrant atmosphere has turned toxic—patrons are more aggressive, and the laughter that used to fill the air is replaced with tension and judgment.

You stand behind the bar, pouring drinks for a group of rowdy customers who seem to take pleasure in belittling the staff. You try to brush off their nasty comments, but each jab feels like a weight added to your already heavy heart.

One of the customers spoke. “Hey you, why don’t you dance for us? We paid good money for this place! You little bratty bitch.” he said in a slurring way.

You force a smile, but inside, you feel a surge of anxiety, you want to disappear. The memory of Charles’s encouragement clashes with the reality of your current situation. You glance around, noticing how other staff members are also feeling the pressure from the patrons, they're demanding lately.

“May... Maybe later! Right now, let me get you another round of drinks.” you say while you attempt to light the mood.

As you turn away, you catch a glimpse of a co-worker, Sarah, who looks equally drained. She gives you a sympathetic nod, and you can tell she’s feeling the strain too. It is causing a lot of damage to all the girls, especially mentally, you have already seen several of them taking drugs in the bathrooms and backstage.

Sarah approaches you. “It’s getting worse here girl… I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” she says quietly while taking a cigarette out of her pocket.

You sigh, knowing exactly what she means. The club that once felt like an escape is now suffocating. Every night drags on, filled with rude customers and an overwhelming sense of dread. Your mental health begins to deteriorate as the pressure mounts.

Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself dealing with the weight of your job and studies because it feels unbearable. You spend more nights lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling as thoughts spiral out of control. Obviously, in the midst of all the chaos, you became a bit of a F1 fan, especially keeping an eye on the green-eyed boy who had been so nice to you that night at the club, somehow, even though he was a complete stranger to you at the time, you felt so happy to see him shine in what he likes — something you wish would happen to you too.

One particularly rough night at work, a big fight breaks out between two patrons. The chaos erupts around you as glasses shatter and voices rise in anger, you feel frozen in place, overwhelmed by your anxiety and nerves.

Weeks pass, and the club continues to drain you. But you find solace in small moments—watching sunsets, reading books—but they’re fleeting against the backdrop of your reality. Your mental health spirals further as feelings of isolation creep in.

Tears well up in your eyes as frustration boils over. You wipe them away angrily, feeling trapped between the joy of the memory shared that night with Charles and the pain of your current life. And it shouldn't be affecting you so much, he was just a costumer...

***

The atmosphere is electric as the club transforms for the Christmas season, twinkling lights adorn the bar, and festive decorations create a warm ambiance amidst the usual chaos. You stand in the backstage, heart racing, preparing for one last performance before your well deserved break from the club and your classes. The familiar sounds of laughter and chatter filter through the curtains, but today, they feel different.

You are in the backstage, pacing nervously as you go over your routine in your mind. The stage is set, and the crowd buzzes with excitement. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

You take a deep breath. “Just one last performance… You can do this.” you say in a whisper to you.

As the music starts and the spotlight shines on you, you step onto the stage. The audience erupts in applause, but your eyes scan the crowd anxiously. You catch glimpses of familiar faces—some co-workers, and regular patrons, nothing new—but then your heart skips a beat. There he is—Charles, standing near the front, his smile bright against the dim lighting.

Your breath hitches in your throat as a flood of emotions washes over you. Memories of that night come rushing back—the laughter, the slight connection, the promise of something more. But doubt creeps in, and you feel a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach...

“Why is he here? Is this just a fleeting visit? Or is it for something else?” you think, you can't help but wonder that.

You force yourself to focus on the performance, pouring your heart into every movement. As you dance, you try to ignore the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind... But each time you glance at Charles, you feel an overwhelming mix of hope and fear.

The performance reaches its climax, and the crowd cheers enthusiastically. You finish with a flourish, feeling a rush of adrenaline as you take your final bow. The applause reverberates in your ears, but your gaze remains fixed on Charles.

As you step offstage, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you navigate through the backstage area toward the bar. You can feel Charles’s presence behind you, and a mix of excitement and dread builds within you.

“Whoa! That was incredible! I’ve missed seeing you perform, little star.” he says as he approaches you with a smile on his face.

His voice sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you’re speechless. You take a moment to absorb his presence—his familiar warmth, his genuine admiration.

“Tha... Thanks... It's been a while since I felt that good on stage.” you say shyly.

You glance around nervously as other staff members and Sarah pass by, some offering nods of recognition to Charles. You can’t help but feel exposed under their scrutiny.

“Do you want to talk somewhere quieter?” he says softly while noticing your discomfort.

You hesitate for a bit. “Yeah... I guess that would be nice.”

You lead him to a small break room at the back of the club—a space filled with mismatched furniture and remnants of holiday treats. The atmosphere feels intimate compared to the bustling club outside.

Once inside, the door closes behind you, muffling the noise from the main area. You lean against the counter, arms crossed defensively as you try to gauge his intentions.

“So, ehm... What brings you back to Vegas? I thought you were busy with racing and all that stuff...” you asked him cautiously.

“Yeah, well, I was busy... but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to see how you’re doing—like, really doing.” he sighed and smiled at you.

His sincerity strikes a chord within you, but doubt still lingers. You remember how hard it is to open up before and how vulnerable it made you feel.

“Well... Things have been tough lately… work has been overwhelming...” you say while biting your lip.

Suddenly everything you have experienced in the last few months comes to your head, the humiliation, the mockery, the objectification, anxiety, the sacrifices you make to make ends meet and have enough money for everything you need and, without expecting it, your eyes fill with tears. A part of you longs for validation and support, but another part fears being let down again.

“Oh, don't cry little star, it's okay...” he says while he holds you in his arms and caresses your hair. “It's so okay, let it out.”

You sniffled. “It’s just that… I don’t know if I can trust anyone right now... Everything feels so chaotic; my life feels so chaotic and messier.”

Charles looks down at you, his expression earnest and understanding. “I get that... Trust takes time, but I’m here for you if you want to talk about it, I want to help.” he wipes a tear form your cheek.

You feel a flicker of hope ignite within you at his words. The vulnerability in his voice reminds you of that connection you shared—the one that felt so real yet so distant now.

“It’s hard for me to open up…” you say in a whisper.

“You don’t have to share everything all at once with me. Just know that I’m here to listen whenever you're ready, okay?” he says softly.

His patience reassures you, but fear still grips your heart. You remember how easily things can change—how quickly trust can be broken.

“I’ve been feeling lost… like I’m stuck in this cycle that I can’t escape.” you say while looking down.

He nodded. “And it’s so okay to feel that way, we all go through rough patches. What matters is that we can still find a way out... together.” he smiles at you.

You meet his gaze again, searching for sincerity in his eyes. There’s no judgment there—only care, understanding and compassion... Something you've been needing to find for a long time and now a stranger is giving it to you.

***

As the days rolled on, the festive spirit of Las Vegas enveloped you both. The city transformed into a dazzling wonderland, with sparkling lights adorning every corner and the joyous sounds of holiday celebrations filling the air. You and Charles made the most of your time together, exploring the vibrant culture and indulging in the culinary delights that the city had to offer.

On Christmas Eve, you found yourselves in a cozy café nestled within one of the extravagant hotels. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of baked goods, creating an inviting atmosphere. You sat across from each other, warm mugs cradled in your hands, and the soft glow of fairy lights twinkling around you.

As you sipped your drink, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence... Charles had a way of making everything feel lighter, as if the burdens you carried were shared between you. But there was still a part of you that hesitated to delve deeper into your past, to reveal the struggles that lay beneath your cheerful façade.

“So, do you have any special traditions for Christmas?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You smiled softly, feeling a pang of nostalgia. “Ehm... Not really, to be honest.” you admitted, looking down at your mug. “My family doesn’t celebrate much anymore... It’s just… complicated.”

He leaned in slightly, his expression encouraging. “Complicated how? If I may know.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, my family never really supported my choice to study psychology.” you began hesitantly. “They always thought it was a waste of time, they wanted me to pursue something more… practical.”

Charles nodded, his face reflecting understanding. “That must have been hard for you.” he said gently.

“It was.” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve always wanted to help people, to understand their emotions and struggles. But when the people closest to you don’t believe in your dreams… it’s hard not to feel like you’re on the wrong path.” you say softly.

He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours in a reassuring gesture. “You’re not on the wrong path, little star. You’re doing something incredibly important.”

You appreciated his support, but the doubt still lingered in your mind. “It’s just… I didn’t have their financial support either.” you confessed, feeling vulnerable. “I’ve had to work multiple jobs to pay for school, including the job at the pole dance club... It’s so exhausting.”

Charles listened intently, his brow furrowing slightly as he absorbed your words. “That sounds really tough, I can’t imagine how isolating that must feel.”

You nodded, grateful for his empathy. “It is isolating.” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve lost touch with friends who didn’t understand my commitment to my studies. It’s like I’m in this bubble where no one else really gets what I’m going through.”

He squeezed your hand gently, grounding you in that moment. “You’re not alone now.” he reassured you. “I’m here for you, and I want to understand what you’re experiencing.”

His sincerity washed over you like a warm wave, encouraging you to share more.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in this cycle of loneliness.” you confessed, tears welling up in your eyes. “I want to connect with others, but it’s hard when I feel so different from everyone else.”

Charles leaned closer, his voice soft and steady. “You’re not different in a bad way; you’re pursuing something meaningful. And those who truly care about you will see that...”

You looked into his eyes, searching for reassurance. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so.” he replied firmly. “You have so much passion and drive. That’s something to be proud of.”

As the conversation continued, you found yourself opening up more than you had anticipated. You shared stories of late nights spent studying, the moments of self-doubt that crept in during exams, and the fleeting joy of helping others during your internships.

His belief in you sparked something deep within—a flicker of hope that perhaps you weren’t as alone as you had felt for so long... The more you talked, the more liberated you felt from the weight of isolation that had clung to you for years.

***

The week leading up to New Year’s was always a time of reflection, a time when the world seemed to pause and take stock of the year gone by. The air was crisp, and the city sparkled with festive lights, but inside your cozy apartment, it was just the two of you—Charles and you—wrapped in a bubble of warmth and anticipation.

You had decided to spend the week together, a decision that felt both thrilling and terrifying. You could feel the chemistry bubbling between you—an electric charge that seemed to hum in the air whenever he was near, but with that chemistry came the fear of what it would mean if you let yourself fall for him.

As the sun began to set on the last day of the year, you and Charles found yourselves sprawled on the couch, surrounded by snacks and half-watched Christmas movies. The soft glow of fairy lights twinkled around the room, creating an intimate atmosphere that made your heart race, you glanced sideways at him, his profile illuminated by the flickering light from the TV. He looked so relaxed, his hair slightly tousled and a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he focused on the screen.

“Do you ever think about New Year’s resolutions?” Charles asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You turned your head to look at him fully. “Sometimes.” you admitted. “But I’m not very good at keeping them.” you giggled.

He chuckled softly. “Same here, I usually start strong, but by February, I’ve forgotten all about them.”

“What do you think this year’s should be?” you asked playfully, trying to keep the conversation light.

He pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing adorably. “Maybe something like… be more spontaneous? Or try to embrace change?”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Embrace change? That sounds deep!”

“Yeah, well.” he said with a shrug. “I think it’s important to be open to new experiences, you never know what could happen.”

His words struck a chord within you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was hinting at something more—something between the two of you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

“What about you?” he asked, turning the question back to you. “What do you want for this coming year?”

You hesitated, your heart racing as you considered your answer. Part of you wanted to say something lighthearted, but another part yearned for honesty.

“I guess… I want to be braver.” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Braver?” he echoed, his gaze intense as he studied your face. “In what way?”

You swallowed hard, feeling exposed under his scrutiny. “In life… in love.” you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve always been scared of getting hurt, so I hold back.”

He nodded slowly, understanding washing over his features. “That makes sense.” he said softly. “It’s hard to let someone in when you’re afraid of what might happen.”

You felt a connection deepen between you in that moment—a shared understanding of vulnerability that made your heart ache with longing.

“Exactly.” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But I think… maybe I want to try.”

Charles’s expression softened as he leaned closer to you, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken. “Try what?” he asked gently.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your words hang in the air between you. “Try to let myself feel more… to let someone in.” Your heart raced as you said it, the truth spilling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He held your gaze steadily, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded away until it was just the two of you—two souls intertwined in a moment of raw honesty.

“I’d like that.” he said finally, his voice low and sincere. “I’d like to be that person for you.”

A rush of warmth flooded through you at his words, but with it came a wave of fear... What if this was too much? What if falling for him meant risking everything? You pulled back slightly, breaking eye contact as uncertainty clouded your mind.

“Charles…” you started, but he interrupted gently.

“Hey.” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent sparks through your skin, and you shivered involuntarily at his closeness. “We don’t have to rush into anything, I just want you to know that I’m here.”

His sincerity made your heart swell and ache all at once. You wanted so desperately to lean into him—to let yourself fall into this beautiful connection—but fear held you back like an anchor.

“Can we just… take it slow?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling with vulnerability.

“Of course we can do that.” he replied without hesitation. “I’d never want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

You smiled gratefully at him, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. Maybe this was enough for now—just being here together, exploring this slow burn without any pressure or expectations.

As the evening wore on and the clock ticked closer to midnight, you found yourselves lost in conversation—sharing stories about childhood dreams and future aspirations, laughter punctuating each moment as the bond between you deepened.

At one point, Charles reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of his touch sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and for a moment, all your fears faded away.

As midnight approached, the anticipation in the air grew thick with excitement. You settled back against the couch, feeling giddy as Charles pulled out his phone to check the time.

“Just a few minutes left!” he exclaimed with a grin.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him; his enthusiasm was infectious. He glanced at you then, his expression softening as he leaned closer again.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly, his eyes locked onto yours.

“For what?” you asked teasingly.

“For whatever comes next.” he replied earnestly.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words—so simple yet so profound. In that moment, everything felt possible. You nodded slowly, feeling a rush of courage wash over you.

“Yes...” you whispered.

As the countdown began on TV, excitement bubbled between you like champagne ready to overflow. With each passing second, your heart raced faster until finally…

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

The room erupted in cheers from the television as confetti fell on-screen and fireworks lit up the sky outside your window. But all that mattered was Charles—his eyes sparkling with joy as he turned to face you.

And then it happened: he leaned in closer and pressed his lips against yours—a soft yet electrifying kiss that sent shivers down your spine. It was tentative yet filled with promise; a beautiful beginning wrapped in hope and possibility.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed him back, savoring the sweet taste of new beginnings and uncharted territory. In that moment, all your fears melted away as if they had never existed at all.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, Charles smiled at you—a smile that lit up his entire face and made your heart soar.

“Happy New Year, petite étoile.” he murmured softly. (little star)

“Happy New Year charlie.” you echoed, feeling lighter than air as hope blossomed within you—a hope for what this year might bring and for the journey ahead with him by your side.

And as fireworks exploded outside your window, illuminating the night sky with vibrant colors, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—you were ready to embrace whatever came next together.

***

The days turned into weeks, and your bond with Charles deepened in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Each moment spent together felt like a new adventure, filled with laughter, shared secrets, and the warmth of companionship.

One evening, after a delightful dinner at a cozy restaurant, you found yourselves walking along the waterfront, the moonlight shimmering on the water's surface. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine, you felt a sense of peace wash over you as you strolled side by side, your fingers intertwined.

As you walked, Charles suddenly stopped, turning to face you with a serious expression that caught you off guard. “Can we talk about something?” he asked, his voice low and earnest.

Your heart raced slightly as you nodded. “Of course babe! What’s on your mind?”

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us—about how much I care for you. You mean more to me than I can express.” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I want to take care of you in every way possible.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, unsure where this conversation was leading but intrigued nonetheless. “What do you mean?” you asked softly.

Charles stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “I want to be your sugar daddy.” he said, his voice steady yet filled with emotion. “And I know it sounds weird, but it's not in a bad way, I mean, I want to support you while you study psychology, to help you leave behind all the stress and worries that weigh you down.”

Your mind raced as you processed his words. The idea of having someone like Charles in your life—someone who wanted to provide for you, who believed in your dreams and aspirations—was both exhilarating and daunting.

“Are you serious?” you managed to ask, your heart pounding.

“Absolutely!” he replied without hesitation. “I want us to build a life together. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I believe we could be so much more than what we are now.” He paused, gauging your reaction before continuing. “I want you to move out of Las Vegas and come with me to Monaco.”

The mention of Monaco sent a thrill through you. The thought of leaving behind the familiar chaos of city life for a place known for its beauty and luxury was intoxicating, but it also brought a wave of uncertainty.

“Monaco? That’s such a big step, Charles.” you said, trying to process everything. “But... What about my studies?” you asked softly.

Charles smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course you can continue your studies there! They have excellent universities, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need to succeed.” he said softly at you.

His words resonated deep within you, igniting a spark of hope and excitement that had long been dormant. The idea of pursuing your passion for psychology without the burden of financial stress felt like a dream come true.

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” you asked, vulnerability creeping into your voice. “What if I can’t adjust?”

Charles cupped your face in his hands, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Life is about taking risks, isn't it? And I believe in us—more than anything else in this world! I promise to be there every step of the way, you won’t be alone; we’ll figure it out together.”

His sincerity washed over you like a warm wave, and for the first time, you felt the weight of your worries begin to lift. The thought of embarking on this journey with him filled you with a sense of possibility.

“Okay.” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to try.”

A radiant smile broke across Charles’s face as he pulled you into his arms, enveloping you in warmth and safety. “You won’t regret this, mon amour.” he whispered against your hair. (my love)

In that moment, everything felt so right to you... The world around you faded away as he held you close, and all that mattered was the connection between the two of you—a bond that had grown from two strangers into something deeper and more profound...

As the stars twinkled above like diamonds scattered across the night sky, you knew that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey together—one filled with love, adventure, and the promise of a brighter future.

***

The soft hum of the city outside your window filled the room as the moonlight spilled in, casting a silvery glow over your study room. You had been immersed in your psychology textbooks, determined to master the material before your upcoming class. However, fatigue had crept in, and before you knew it, you had succumbed to sleep, your head resting on your notes, surrounded by the comforting chaos of your studies.

Charles had just returned from a long day of meetings with sponsors, his mind still buzzing with the events of the day. He was looking forward to spending time with you, but as he stepped into your study room, he was met with a scene that made his heart swell... There you were, curled up on the desk, your little stuffed bear nestled beside you, as if it were standing guard while you slept.

A soft smile spread across his face at the sight. “Well, well, if it isn’t my little Sleepy Scholar.” he whispered affectionately, approaching you with quiet steps. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he began to pick up the scattered books, papers and highlighters on the table. “You really should consider changing your name to ‘Overworked Wonder.'” he teased gently, glancing down at your peaceful expression.

As he organized your notes, he found himself admiring how well you had adapted to life in Monaco. You had embraced the city with open arms, exploring its beauty and charm while pursuing your studies with unwavering determination. It filled him with pride and love to see you thriving after everything you had faced back in Vegas.

His fingers brushed against the plush bear, and he couldn’t resist giving it a gentle squeeze. “And look who’s here to protect my precious girl, hm?” he said with a playful grin. “You’re doing a fantastic job, Mr. Bear!”

With everything neatly arranged, he turned his attention back to you. The sight of you sleeping so soundly tugged at his heartstrings. He knew how hard you had been working and how much this new chapter meant to you, he wanted nothing more than to take care of you, to ensure that you felt safe and loved in this new place.

Gently, he slipped his arms under your body, lifting you effortlessly from the desk. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake as he cradled you against him. “Time for bed, my little scholar.” he murmured softly, the warmth of your body against his bringing him a sense of peace. “You need a deserved rest in a comfy bed.”

He carried you to the bedroom, the soft sound of his footsteps barely audible over the gentle lapping of waves outside. As he laid you down on the bed, he carefully tucked the covers around you, ensuring that you were warm and comfortable. The plush bear found its place beside you once more, as if it were keeping watch over you in your dreams.

Charles took a moment to admire you—your features relaxed in sleep, a serene expression gracing your face. The love he felt for you swelled within him as he brushed a stray hair away from your forehead. “Sweet dreams, my love.” he whispered softly before slipping into bed beside you.

As he settled in next to you, the day’s exhaustion caught up with him. He turned onto his side, propping his head up on his hand and watching you sleep for a moment longer. The way you breathed peacefully filled him with an overwhelming sense of contentment, It felt like everything was right in the world.

But soon enough, the weight of fatigue pulled at him too. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the warmth of the bed and the comfort of your presence. As sleep enveloped him, dreams began to weave their way into his mind—visions of laughter-filled days exploring Monaco’s stunning coastline together, quiet evenings spent sharing stories under starlit skies, and a future filled with love and promise.

In that shared moment of tranquility, two hearts beat as one—connected by love and trust, embracing the beauty of their journey together. The world outside faded away as they drifted into a peaceful slumber, knowing that they would face whatever challenges lay ahead side by side.

As the night wore on, Charles found himself wrapped in dreams filled with laughter and light—a reflection of the joy you brought into his life. And in that serene space, both of you slept soundly, cocooned in warmth and love in your new home in Monaco.

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

dick grayson instagram hcs

basics

we are pretending dick is not a cop in this because i said so!

he's a professional model but also does perform at a local circus as a special guest

he's not actually going to the olympics (yet) but the american team has been trying to contact him for the better part of the decade so maybe you can convince him to go

he's kind of like one of your friends who you think is chill and normal but then you go to their ig and you find out they're something of a local celebrity?

everybody in gotham already knew him as bruce wayne's son but also he went semi viral on tiktok and got a bunch of new fans (and some edits) out of it

he used to have a less serious pfp but his management convinced him to use this one instead

followers + following

obviously you're there

as well as his friends and family

he manages to get away with following the superheroes since i mean, basically everybody else does as well

also a lot of industry people that he meets, both for modeling and gymnastics/trapeze

highlights

he is an abuser of the story function

will spend any opportunity to brag about his pretty girlfriend and all of the dates and trips you guys go on

he is weirdly good at taking photos, will give you tips on how to pose to get your best angles

also he has a lot of fans so he likes to post a photo of you every once in a while to remind everyone that he's happily taken

will also repost your work related stuff to be like hey look at how cool my gf is at her job!

dude has a million highlights that he updates for the fashion weeks each year

a lot of photos of his looks, him meeting with certain designers, it's mostly his team who posts this

same thing with his shows in the sense that it's usually other people (including you) taking photos of him while he's performing

but this is a more personal venture of his so he asks everyone to send him the pics and he decides which ones to post

will also repost stories from fans who came to the show!

oooh this man posts the most jaw dropping photos of himself

he will have just woken up and post a photo that makes you think it's so unfair how perfect somebody can be

he just likes to post when he feels good about himself and i support!

haley and (i did not come up with a name for your guys' cat so you guys can have fun with that!) also have their own dedicated highlight

it is exactly as cute and wholesome as you would think it is

there are even more highlights if you keep on scrolling. he has highlights for each year's fashion weeks, as mentioned, as well as trips you guys have been on (the most recent is a trip to greece and italy!)

posts

once again he's one of those infuriating sort of famous people who are like fine as hell but they post just enough cute and relatable content that he actually seems like a real and very nice guy (fun fact, he is!)

you can tell immediately when he's been on a trip because he'll have at least 3 posts up and they're all of the same place

you guys are like the photo taking couple

if you weren't good at taking pics before you started dating, his skills definitely rub off on you

he'll do the thing where he gets you to pose for him so he can take a photo of you and then you take the same style of photo for him

it's disgusting you guys have matching photos on your feeds of each other

if it wasn't already common knowledge that you guys are dating, i can imagine the conspiracy theory videos being like guys they were in the same place? at the same time? and they took the same type of pics? i think they're dating

he loves cooking with you (while i personally think it would be really funny if he can't cook, in some of the comics they do mention that he can cook, but either way he enjoys cooking with you)

you guys are like the parent friends who host dinner at their place and there's usually a theme surrounding seasonal ingredients and everything's plated really well

you probably watch cooking shows together and are now you can't serve a dish without some microgreens or sliced radish on top or something

also yes he did plan the picnic and he's quite proud of it

he watched all of those charcuterie board hacks to make the flowers and fancy cheese arrangements

and there were chocolate dipped strawberries, champagne with glasses, and freshly baked cookies (alfred might have helped with that one)

also yes he does wear glasses!!!! only at home when he's reading or staring at a screen too long. his prescription's not that bad

———

jason ver.

[nqueso-emergency]

I am so sorry for all those rude messages you are receiving.

Now to the last anon over Lou (lol, because you already defend yourself so well and others have already explain why we like you and keep coming, besides any promise of extra information):

"who I was okay with til it was obvious he baited everyone too whilst he was out of a job and took everyone’s money" what the hell are hey talking?

What baiting? he promoting a show that he worked on and is on good terms with? (a show that even in the last episode without him, he was mentioned for a good bunch of it)

Took everyones money? this has been discussed already, people can do with their money whatever they want and paying for a short clip is not different from a photo in a conference.

is this about the headcanons? super rich from the people that read in an interview RG saying "I love you to the core" when the characters barely have refer the other as best friends.

And finally, this idea of that someone is to blame for the hurt of our ship? We decided to enjoy this ship, it spoke to us in an special manner (we connected to Tommy or with Buck), and that is the risk of finding a story you like while it is being written: it can fall or it can fly. Even with the frustration I don't think any of us regret this fandom and all the crazy things we get into each day.

Thank you anon!! ❤️

[geekgirl101]

Honestly, if I were an exec at this point I would be thinking about how long the show should go on. Maybe give it one more season with a clear indication that there should be satisfying resolutions for everyone.

Bobby finds his niche which lets him retire peacefully, while Athena takes a job at the police academy. Either the fire academy as its like chief, or principal. OR he decides to be the next firechief. Actually if Athena and Bobby both decide to head up the two academies that would be very funny.

Hen is promoted to Captain, or Karen gets an offer for a full-time tenure track position at Cal Poly while Hen gets an offer to head up another firehouse in the same area if she's not captain of the 118. Or Karen gets a full-time job at Cal Tech and Hen stays at the 118 or gets to captain a firehouse a little closer.

Given his years of experience, Chim gets an offer to head up the Firefighter training academy. Maddie and Chim welcome a healthy baby boy named Kevin Daniel Buckley Han. Sue retires, Josh is promoted, and Maddie becomes Josh's right-hand woman. Bonus points if we see that kid that Chim mentored work at dispatch.

Could also make for a couple of scenes of Chim and Athena both ordering cadets around or talking about silly things cadets do.

Eddie Diaz reconciles with his son and agrees that unless he's serious with someone, really serious he will not introduce them to Chris, who makes it clear he doesn't need a mom. Maybe last half of the last season Eddie meets a nice woman also with a kid, younger than Chris, and they agree to go slow. Bonus if this woman is also a widow. they have things in common. But they've both worked through their grief and just trying to figure out how to be happy. They're dating. But not dating. Just getting to know each other and then maybe Eddie is the one who asks, hey maybe we can move forward. They do not meet at a call. They have some kind of meet cute at Karaoke trivia.

Now this one should be obvious. Buck and Tommy get back. together, and really work on each other and on the relationship. Helicopter crash or no copter crashes, we need Buck. But fights for what he wants. Tommy learns to accept love and family and be vulnerable with others. End of the series they get married or at least move in together. Bonus points if they go house hunting together and we have a montage of everyone helping them move in together, or they have the final 118 bbq at Tommy and Buck's house. Buck decides to take a sabbatical from work to his college degree because he realizes he does want to be a fire captain one day.

IDK I'm a sucker for a full-circle ending.

[mixxiew]

under the eclipse | 7dream

𖦹°‧ pairing: read and find out! (or read the tags but it will spoil everything lol!)

𖦹°‧ genre: angst! angst! did i say angst? yeah basically lots of drama

𖦹°‧ word count: 15k 🙂‍↕️

𖦹°‧ cw: infedelity!!, internalized homophobia, swearing, they will fight! a lot! so just know that, haechan really suck :(, jeno is not so kind :( yeah

- the story is clearly referring to the film “Perfect Strangers” directed by Paolo Genovese. i watched some nights ago and thought i couldn’t not write it with dreamies :) i just love drama. hope you enjoy it!

summary: a group of old friends gets together for dinner. one of them proposes a game, where everyone shares every text and call they receive during the day with each other, causing secrets to surface under the eclipse.

author’s note! this work is purely fiction and it isn’t meant to romanticize any of the thing it portrays. also I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the characters to their real life counterparts. all the rights goes to the author of the “perfect strangers” story, i just added my personal taste to it.

Mark adjusted the heat under the saucepan, stirring the sauce with slow, methodical movements. Across the kitchen island, Yunhee was slicing tomatoes with quiet focus, pausing now and then to glance up at him.

“Long day?” she asked, brushing the diced tomatoes into a bowl.

Mark gave a short, dry laugh. “Long doesn’t begin to cover it. Three consultations back-to-back. Everyone seems to be preparing for the new year with a new face.” He smirked, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of people investing so much in a jawline.”

Yunhee smiled, her gaze soft. “Maybe they’re hoping a fresh face will mean a fresh start. There’s a reason people obsess over appearances, you know.” She leaned closer, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. “They believe it’s a fix for something deeper.”

He set down the wooden spoon, his expression thoughtful. “Do you really think that’s what it is?”

She nodded, her voice low, like she was sharing a secret. “I see it every day. People come to me believing there’s a magic answer to their unhappiness, and sometimes they think it’s found in something—or someone—outside themselves. In a new face, or a new job, or a new relationship.”

Mark watched her, feeling a familiar, quiet admiration. He stepped around the island and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes, savoring the touch, then looked up at him, and their eyes met.

“You ever wonder if we’re just… treating symptoms?” he asked softly. “That we’re both just polishing the surface?”

Yunhee smiled, reaching up to brush her thumb along his cheek. “Sometimes, yes. But sometimes, even the smallest shift can mean a lot to someone. We help them see themselves differently, in whatever way we can.”

He pulled her in, their lips meeting in a slow, familiar kiss, the world outside the kitchen momentarily forgotten. When they finally pulled back, they lingered close, eyes locked.

They shared a warm smile, the familiarity of their daily banter wrapping around them. Yunhee took a sip of wine, leaning in a little closer as she asked, “Are you looking forward to tonight?”

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Sure. Just hope everyone’s up for a good time. Chenle is also bringing is new girlfriend right? That’s awesome. Hope we stay out of drama today, we need to make a good impression or she’ll ran away like the others.”

She chuckled, nudging him with her elbow. “Since when have our friends ever managed a night without drama?”

Mark laughed, opening his mouth to respond.

“I’m afraid you’re right…as always.”

Chinsun balanced her phone between her shoulder and ear, rummaging through her purse with one hand while listening intently. “Yes, Mrs. Kim, I understand. Keep Pepper calm, and try the ointment I recommended. If he’s still limping tomorrow, call me first thing, okay?”

Haechan watched her from across the room, a mischievous grin spreading over his face. He tiptoed over and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing his lips to her neck. She stifled a laugh, glancing back at him with a playful scowl.

“Yes, I promise, it’s perfectly safe for him. Just—oh!” She clamped her mouth shut as Haechan’s hands roamed up her waist, pulling her closer. “Uh-huh… yes, exactly… oh, stop!” she whispered urgently, trying to wave him off, but she was already laughing.

Haechan’s grin only widened as he leaned in, capturing her lips in a swift, playful kiss. With a sigh, Chinsun quickly wrapped up the call. “No no,I wasn’t talking to you Mrs. Kim…call me tomorrow if anything changes, okay? Great. Bye!” She hung up, spinning around to face him with an amused smile.

“Couldn’t resist me, huh?” Haechan teased, raising an eyebrow.

Chinsun rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Maybe, but you’re too hot, I couldn’t stop myself” he replied with a smirk, and before she could say anything more, he kissed her again, slow and lingering this time, the kind of kiss that blurred time and erased any thoughts of being anywhere else.

Moments later, Chinsun’s laugh echoed through the room as he swept her into his arms, and their dinner were momentarily forgotten.

Some time passed before they were finally ready, a little flushed and breathless. She smoothed her dress, fixing her hair with a small, secret smile as they grabbed their things and headed for the door.

“We’re definitely going to be late” she murmured, glancing at him as they stepped outside.

Haechan just grinned, reaching for her hand. “I’m so ready for the second course tho.”

He said, earning a little smack on his shoulder.

“Jaemin!” Soyul’s voice rang out from the bedroom as she hurriedly tossed through her jewelry box, searching for the bracelet she swore she’d set aside earlier. “Did you feed the cats yet?”

Jaemin sighed, stifling a smile as he finished scooping cat food into two separate bowls. “Already on it!” he called back. “And don’t worry—Minho’s food is in his ‘exclusive dining area,’ just like you asked.” He chuckled, glancing down as Minho, their older tabby, pawed at his bowl impatiently, while Luna, their younger, more mischievous cat, watched him with a sly look, clearly eyeing Minho’s food.

“Thank you!” she replied, sounding both grateful and a bit distracted as she continued the whirlwind search for her missing bracelet. A few seconds later, she darted out of the bedroom, one heel on, the other in her hand, a brush tangled in her hair, and a tube of mascara balanced between her lips.

Jaemin couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “You’re a one-woman hurricane tonight,” he said, stepping over to her. Before she could protest, he gently took the brush from her hand and began working it through her hair, smoothing out the tangles with easy, familiar strokes. She gave a small sigh, visibly relaxing as she focused on finishing her mascara.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she murmured, finally setting her makeup down. “How do you stay so calm all the time?”

Jaemin smirked, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I have to be calm. Someone has to keep track of everything you lose” he teased. “Besides, I like seeing you a little flustered—keeps things interesting.”

Soyul shot him a playful look, nudging his shoulder. “Well, if you’re so organized, where’s my bracelet?”

With a smirk, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver bracelet, holding it up with a satisfied grin. “Right where I found it—by the coffee machine.”

She laughed, slipping the bracelet onto her wrist and giving him a grateful kiss on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”

He pulled her close, his hand lingering at her waist while he started to leave soft kisses on his revealed shoulder.

Just as she leaned in for a kiss, a loud knock sounded at the door. They exchanged a quick, amused look before Jaemin pulled away to answer it.

At the door stood Jeno and Daeun, bundled in coats, with Jeno holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a casual grin on his face. ��Finally! You two are slowpokes tonight” he teased, stepping in.

Daeun rolled her eyes, giving Jeno a playful nudge. “Says the guy who took twenty minutes deciding which wine to bring. You’re the reason we almost missed them!”

Jeno held up the bottle defensively. “Hey, this isn’t just any wine. This is a classic—goes perfectly with any dinner party. Mark and Yunhee are going to be impressed.”

Daeun scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Classic? You mean it was on sale, don’t you?”

Soyul laughed, tugging on her second heel as she stepped over to them. “You two really sound like an old married couple,” she teased, exchanging a smile with Jaemin.

Jeno shot her a look. “Better that than making everyone late because someone couldn’t find her bracelet” he retorted, grinning as Soyul playfully slapped his arm.

“Alright, alright” Daeun said with a laugh, hooking her arm through Jeno’s. “Let’s not turn this into a roast. We all know we can’t keep Mark and Yeeri waiting too long anyway—they’ve probably already started judging our punctuality.”

With a shared laugh, the four of them gathered their coats, scarves, and the wine bottle before stepping outside into the cool evening air. They walked together, arms linked or hands clasped, a relaxed rhythm to their steps as they strolled toward Mark and Yeeri’s place just a few blocks away.

As they walked, Daeun nudged Jeno’s shoulder, a mischievous smile on her face. “So, what other fancy items did you look at before you settled on that bottle?”

Jeno rolled his eyes, pretending to think. “Well, I did consider that other ‘vintage’ blend—super exclusive, and only double the price.”

The group laughed, Jaemin shaking his head. “Guess we should be grateful we got a sale-priced classic instead. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll actually taste good.”

“Hey!” Jeno protested, putting on a wounded expression as they turned onto Mark and Yeeri’s street. “One day you’ll all appreciate my refined taste.”

With another round of laughter, the group finally arrived at the doorstep, feeling light and happy as they prepared for the night ahead.

Mark stirred the sauce simmering on the stove, adding a pinch more basil as Yunhee sliced fresh herbs beside him. The kitchen was filled with the rich aromas of their cooking, and they exchanged small smiles as they worked in comfortable rhythm.

The doorbell rang, and Yunhee glanced at the clock. “Someone’s early” she murmured, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked to the door.

She opened it to find Renjun standing there, a small box of pastries balanced in his hands and an easy smile on his face. “Brought dessert” he announced, stepping inside as she welcomed him with a warm hug.

“You’re a lifesaver” she said, guiding him into the kitchen. “Mark was worried I might have to make my own pastries, and we all know how that would’ve turned out.”

Mark raised his hands in mock defense. “Hey, I was all for a backup plan. Just didn’t want the dessert to be… a learning experience.”

Renjun laughed, setting the pastries on the counter. “Well, I’m here to save the day.“

Yunhee smirked, giving a glass of wine to the boy, catching Mark’s amused glance. “So…Junnie, let’s talk about you little love life mh? I’ve been trying to introduce you to my friend Hana, and you bailed out the last time I invited you two to coffee. You’ve got to give her a chance—she’s perfect for you!”

Renjun shook his head, chuckling. “Perfect, huh? Yunhee, i know she’s probably nice, but it just… didn’t feel right. Plus, you know I’m terrible with setups. I’d rather meet someone by chance, not like it’s an appointment.”

Mark chuckled, nodding in agreement. “C’mon baby he’s right, quit playing cupid and let him enjoy his freedom while he still can”

Yunhee raised her eyebrows looking at her fiancé. “Markie what do you mean by that mh?”

The latter was quick to shake his head. “Nothing, my love, of course.”

The three of them started to laugh before Yunhee leaned back against the counter, smirking. “Alright, enough about Renjun’s future. What do we think about Chenle’s mystery date tonight? He’s been so secretive.”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “I’m betting she’s someone new around here. He wouldn’t give up any details, and it’s strange, you know how he is- always yapping about everything”

Renjun leaned against the counter too, thinking. “Well, if he’s bringing her to meet everyone, she’s got to be someone special. Or at least, someone he thinks can handle this bunch.”

Yunhee grinned. “Well, let’s hope she knows what she’s getting into. I feel like if she’s too shy, she might just make a run for it.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang, and Jaemin’s voice called from the other side. “Hellooo, are we still welcome?”

Yunhee grinned, dashing over to let them in. Jaemin and Soyul, along with Jeno and Daeun, stood at the entrance, bundled in scarves and coats, with Jeno proudly holding the bottle of wine. They each gave hugs all around before peeling off layers, handing their coats to Yun.

“We brought wine!” Jeno announced, holding up the bottle like a prize.

“And he spent way too long picking it out” Daeun teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Jaemin smirked. “Should be glad it’s not a box of cheap beer.”

As they joined everyone in the kitchen, Soyul shot a curious look at the group. “So, we were trying to guess, what kind of girl do you think Chenle’s bringing?”

Mark crossed his arms, sighing. “Renjun thinks she’s got to be special to handle us. Otherwise, Chenle wouldn’t bother even dare to introduce her.”

Jeno shook his head, amused. “Maybe she’s just a decoy—he’s bringing her in so we don’t bother him about settling down. You know how he likes to mess with us.”

The room filled with laughter, just as another knock echoed from the door. Before Yunhee could answer, it swung open, and Haechan and Chinsun entered, both looking slightly flushed and disheveled. Haechan was grinning wide, while Chinsun scanned the room a bit embarassed before her gaze started lighting up the moment it fell on Renjun.

“Renjun!” Chinsun exclaimed, her face brightening as she hurried over to him. She wrapped him in an warm hug, her laugh light as she pulled back. “I didn’t think you’d get here before us! This is a rare sight.”

Renjun returned her smile. “Well, I had to beat you to the food somehow” he teased, feeling the slight blush creeping into his cheeks.

“Oh please” she replied with a laugh, her hand lingering on his arm for just a moment longer than necessary.

Mark and Jaemin exchanged a quick, knowing glance, amused at Chinsun’s enthusiasm. Haechan, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow at her, his usual playful smirk returning as he slipped an arm around her waist. “Careful, baby—you’re making it sound like Renjun’s your date.”

Chinsun rolled her eyes. “Oh, hush. I’m just happy to see everyone. Now, what were y’all were gossiping about?”

Jaemin chuckled, nudging Haechan’s shoulder. “We were actually placing bets on whether you’d show up at all. Or if you’d just call it a night in the car.”

Haechan feigned offense, crossing his arms. “Excuse me, we’re responsible adults. We’d never show up late… without a good reason.”

Yunhee shot him a playful glare, giving him a light slap on the arm. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

Haechan grinned at her. “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t love me any other way.”

The group laughed, and as everyone settled into the cozy kitchen, the talk naturally returned to Chenle’s mystery date.

“Knowing Chenle, he’s probably picked someone who can throw some shade right back at him,” Jaemin said thoughtfully. “He’d get bored with anyone who can’t keep up with his jokes.”

Daeun raised her glass. “That’s why I’m hoping she’s someone who’ll make Chenle nervous for a change.”

“Or someone who’ll give us a good story,” Haechan added with a smirk. “I don’t know, I’m expecting something outrageous.”

Yunhee raised an eyebrow at him. “Be nice. Don’t make her feel like she’s on trial.”

Haechan grinned, unfazed. “Come on, Yunhee, we’re all curious. Besides, isn’t it what else are friends for?”

With laughter and glasses raised, the group settled into the easy flow of conversation, waiting to see just what surprises the night would bring.

The kitchen buzzed with chatter as Mark, Yunhee and their friends huddled around, everyone passing theories back and forth about Chenle’s mystery date. Glasses clinked as Haechan cracked one last joke.

Just then the doorbell rang, and in an instant, the group went quiet, eyes widening. Soyul clutched Jaemin’s arm, and Daeun leaned forward, excitement lighting up her face.

“Alright, moment of truth!” Jeno whispered.

Yunhee looked Mark. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go answer it!”

With an amused grin, the said boy made his way to the door, the rest of the group following closely behind him, crowding together as if each wanted to be the first to lay eyes on Chenle’s mystery girl. Mark took a deep breath, adding to the suspense, before pulling open the door with a dramatic flourish.

But standing on the doorstep, looking slightly taken aback by the crowd gathered in the doorway, there was Chenle—completely and utterly alone, with only a bottle of whiskey in hand.

“Hey, everyone!” he said, smiling and giving a small wave.

An exaggerated groan came from Haechan as he dramatically slapped his forehead. “Chenle, are you serious? I’ve been holding my breath here!”

Daeun put her hands on her hips, her expression somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “Just you?”

Chenle looked around, his gaze moving from one disappointed face to another. “Whoa, did I walk into some kind of intervention? What’s with the whole welcoming committee?”

Yunhee stepped forward, unable to hold back a chuckle. She gave him a warm hug, patting his back with a sigh. “We thought you’d be bringing someone special! Don’t tell me you left us hanging on purpose?”

Chenle chuckled, hugging her back. “Hey, it’s not like I planned this just to mess with you all!”

“Could’ve fooled us” Jaemin teased, crossing his arms. “With all that build-up, we thought you were finally bringing your big mystery girl.”

Chenle sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, alright—let me explain. I was supposed to bring someone. Her name’s Jiul, but she came down with a fever this afternoon. She really wanted to come, but she could barely get out of bed.”

“Right…” Haechan raised an eyebrow, shooting him a skeptical look. “And I’m supposed to believe you’re not just making up some imaginary girlfriend because you love a good mystery?”

Chenle snorted, rolling his eyes. “I swear, Haechan, she’s not imaginary. I might be dramatic, but even I wouldn’t go that far!”

Daeun let out a soft laugh and stepped forward, giving him a playful punch on the arm. “We were all looking forward to meeting her, you know. Poor girl—she doesn’t know what she’s in for if she’s dating you.”

Chenle shrugged, giving her a grin. “Well, you’ll meet her soon enough. Trust me, if she’d known you were all waiting at the door like this, she might’ve dragged herself over just to avoid becoming a ghost story.”

“Next time, Chenle,” Soyul added, giving him a quick, warm hug. “You’re bringing her, no excuses.”

Chenle raised his hands in surrender. “Deal, deal! I’ll bring her next time. Just don’t scare her off before I get the chance to introduce her, okay?”

Finally stepping aside from the crowd Mark took the bottle of whiskey, reading the label with an approving nod. “This, at least, is impressive. It’s like you read my mind.”

“Well, figured I’d make up for the lack of a plus-one,” Chenle said with a shrug, grinning as he accepted a glass from Yunhee. “Besides, you all don’t need my dating life as your only form of entertainment. I’m sure Haechan’s got plenty of wild stories to share tonight.”

The group laughed, and Haechan flashed a cocky grin. “I always bring the entertainment, Chenle. But I’ll give you a break—this time.”

Once the group had gathered back in the kitchen, Haechan leaning comfortably against the counter, Jaemin shot Chenle a curious look. “Alright, now that you’re here and Jiul’s off the hook for tonight, you’ve got to tell us a bit more about her.”

“Yeah,” Mark chimed in, raising an eyebrow with a half-smile. “You’ve been suspiciously quiet about this girl.”

Chenle leaned against the counter, a smirk playing on his lips as he took a sip of his drink. “Well, you all know how I like to keep things interesting. But let’s just say Jiul’s… different. She’s got this thing where she somehow manages to keep up with my jokes, even throw them back at me. That’s rare.”

Jaemin raised his glass, nodding. “Sounds like she’s got your number already.”

“Oh, trust me,” Chenle said with a chuckle. “She’s more than capable of keeping me on my toes. She’s a bit quiet at first, but once she opens up…” He paused, shaking his head with a smile. “Yeah, she’s something else.”

Mark leaned back, folding his arms. “Quiet, huh? Think she’ll be able to handle this crew?”

Chenle shrugged, his grin widening. “Guess we’ll have to find out. But if she can survive meeting all of you, I’ll take it as a good sign.”

Haechan snorted, looking amused. “Well, as long as she knows she’s dating the most mysterious guy in town.”

Chenle chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Alright, alright—keep the mystery jokes coming. But I’m serious, you’ll all meet her soon enough.”

Just then, Yunhee lifted her glass. “To Jiul’s speedy recovery. And to finally meeting the mystery woman next time!”

The group slowly moved toward the dining table, carrying their drinks and chatting animatedly. Haechan, true to form, was already throwing out playful remarks as he trailed behind Chinsun, who was straightening her hair after the rush to get there.

“Alright, everyone, let’s get this dinner started before Soyul’s cats call animal services on Jaemin for neglect” he teased, earning a laugh from Soyul and a glare from Jaemin.

Jaemin waved him off, grumbling under his breath. “They’re perfectly fine. And unlike you, Haechan, they actually like me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Haechan fired back with a smirk as he pulled out a chair for Chinsun, who patted his cheek as if rewarding a child for good behavior.

“Sit down and behave,” she said lightly, though her grin gave away her amusement.

Once everyone was seated, the conversation shifted to updates on their lives.

“How’s the clinic been, Chinsun?” Yunhee asked, passing the bread basket.

“Busy but good” Chinsun replied. “We’ve had a lot of emergency cases this week—mostly dogs who think eating socks is a fun challenge.”

“That’s because it is” Haechan quipped. “If I were a dog, I’d totally try it.”

Renjun shook his head with a laugh. “You’ve got the mindset for it, I’ll give you that.”

“What about you, Mark?” Jeno asked. “Still reshaping faces for a living?”

Mark chuckled. “Yeah, the clinic’s been crazy. But you’d be surprised how many people don’t realize they can’t heal overnight. I had a patient last week who wanted to run a marathon a day after rhinoplasty.”

“She didn’t!” Soyul gasped.

“Oh, she did” Mark said, nodding solemnly. “We had to convince her that, no, her nose would not stay on her face if she ran 42 kilometers.”

The group burst into laughter, and Daeun added, “I feel like your job is part surgery, part babysitting.”

Yunhee smiled knowingly. “It’s pretty similar to therapy sometimes, too. People want a quick fix without doing the real work.”

As the laughter ebbed, Renjun glanced at the clock on the wall. “By the way, is anyone planning to watch the eclipse tonight? It’s supposed to peak in an hour or so.”

Yunhee’s face lit up. “That’s the whole point of tonight’s dinner! Mark and I thought it’d be nice to make an event of it. Food, drinks, and a cosmic show.”

Jaemin raised a hand as if in mock protest. “Wait, I thought Chenle’s mystery girlfriend was the real purpose of tonight.”

The table broke into another round of laughter as Chenle groaned, sinking dramatically in his chair. “I’ll never live this down, will I?”

“Not a chance” Daeun replied with a grin.

Chinsun leaned forward, seizing the moment to ask “ So, Soyul, how are the cats doing? I saw your latest post, and they looked so adorable!” Chinsun asked with genuine excitement, clasping her hands together.

Soyul’s face lit up. “Oh, they’re doing amazing! Luna just learned how to open the treat drawer, so I’ve basically lost control of my kitchen. And Minho—well, he’s still his lazy self, lounging around like he’s royalty.”

Jaemin groaned, leaning back in his chair. “I swear, those two get more attention than I do.”

“You’re not wrong” Soyul teased, her grin widening. “But can you blame me? They’re perfect.”

“Perfectly spoiled” Jaemin muttered, though his soft smile betrayed his playful jealousy.

“They’re basically your children” Chinsun said, leaning forward eagerly. “It’s like having babies, isn’t it? You feed them, you worry about them, and they even wake you up in the middle of the night!”

Soyul nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! They’re like little furry toddlers.”

Yunhee chimed in, her tone reflective. “Animals really are like kids. They depend on you completely, and you get so attached. Sometimes I think having a pet is good practice for when you’re ready for the real thing.”

This comment shifted the energy at the table. A pause hung in the air before Haechan, never one to let things get too serious, leaned forward with a smirk. “Speaking of kids—how many of you are planning on having them?”

Jaemin and Jeno exchanged a quick, almost imperceptible glance before Jaemin replied, “Not us. At least, not anytime soon.”

Jeno nodded in agreement. “Yeah, same here. We’re just… not really into the idea right now.”

Daeun looked at Jeno, her brows furrowing slightly. “I didn’t know you felt that way. We’ve never really talked about it.”

Soyul glanced at Jaemin, her lips pressing into a line. “Yeah… same here.”

Sensing the tension creeping in, Mark cleared his throat. “I’ve always wanted kids. It’s just a matter of timing, I guess.”

“Same” Haechan said with a grin, reaching over to take Chinsun’s hand. “And, for the record, I think Chinsun would look absolutely stunning with a little baby bump. I mean, imagine—she’d be the cutest mom ever.”

Chinsun’s cheeks flushed as she swatted him lightly. “Haechan! Don’t start embarrassing me.”

“I’m just speaking the truth” Haechan said, leaning back smugly. “You’d glow, babe. Like, literally.”

The group laughed, the tension easing as the conversation drifted back into lighter territory.

“You’d glow because you’d be sweating from how much work it is,” Chenle quipped, leaning back with a smug grin. “Honestly, I don’t get the whole ‘having kids’ thing. Everyone acts like it’s the ultimate goal, but let’s be real—it’s not like having a child completes your life or anything.”

His comment drew a mix of reactions. Haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, while Yunhee’s eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. Soyul and Daeun exchanged surprised glances, and Mark simply sipped his wine, waiting to see where the conversation would go.

It was Renjun who spoke first, his voice calm but firm. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? Just because it’s not something you want doesn’t mean it’s not meaningful for other people.”

Chenle shrugged. “I’m not saying people shouldn’t have kids. I’m just saying the idea that you need them to live a fulfilling life is outdated. Look at me—I’m perfectly happy without any of that responsibility weighing me down.”

Renjun leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. “But don’t you think there’s value in building something that lasts? Kids aren’t just about fulfilling some societal expectation—they’re about connection, legacy, and love.”

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Legacy? Love? I don’t need a tiny version of me running around to prove I can leave a mark on the world.”

“Maybe,” Renjun countered, his tone softening slightly, “but having a child isn’t just about leaving a mark. It’s about giving a piece of yourself to someone else and watching them grow into their own person. It’s about creating a bond that’s unlike anything else.”

Chinsun nodded in agreement, her expression warm as she looked at Renjun. “That’s a beautiful way to put it. I’ve always thought that raising a child could be one of the most rewarding things you can do.”

“Exactly,” Renjun said, his gaze still on Chenle. “It’s not for everyone, sure. But it’s not just about completing your life—it’s about enriching theirs, too.”

Chenle rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. “Alright, alright, Mr. Philosopher. You’ve made your point. But I’m sticking to my no-kid policy, thanks.”

“Wow” Yunhee said, glancing at Chenle with mock disapproval. “Remind me not to leave you alone with my hypothetical children.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to” Chenle said with a grin.

The laughter around the table eventually simmered as the conversation drifted into quieter territory. It was Renjun who broke the lull with a sigh. “Did anyone hear about Jaehyun? Poor guy’s been through it lately.”

Mark glanced up from his drink, frowning. “Yeah, I did. He found out his girlfriend was cheating, right?”

“Found out by accident, too” Renjun added. “Apparently, he glanced at her phone while she was showing him something, and bam—texts from another guy. Can you imagine?”

“Honestly, that’s the worst,” Daeun said, shaking her head. “Not just the cheating but finding out like that. It must’ve been a punch to the gut.”

Chenle leaned back with a sympathetic smirk. “It’s like phones have become the black box of our lives. They hold all the secrets, good and bad.”

Mark nodded thoughtfully, swirling his wine glass. “It’s true, though. Our phones probably know more about us than the people closest to us. Messages, emails, photos, bank details… even things we don’t consciously remember. It’s like a digital diary we forget to lock.”

“Or a digital Pandora’s box” Jaemin said, earning murmurs of agreement around the table.

Yunhee, who had been listening intently, suddenly leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You know… this reminds me of something I saw in a movie recently. What if we played a game?”

The table perked up at the word game.

“What kind of game?” Haechan asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Yunhee grinned. “Everyone puts their phones on the table for the entire night. Any texts, calls, or notifications that come in—we share them with the group. We read the messages aloud, listen to the calls on speaker, everything. Total transparency.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the idea hanging in the air like an unspoken dare.

“That sounds…” Jeno began, his brow furrowing. “… invasive.”

“And unnecessary” Mark added quickly, his discomfort evident.

Haechan laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, I’m not sure I’m on board with that. It’s not that I have anything to hide, but…”

“But what?” Chinsun cut in, her tone teasing as she raised an eyebrow. “Afraid we’ll find out about your secret second family or something?”

Haechan pointed a finger at her, feigning offense. “Don’t start, babe. My life’s an open book. It’s just—do we really need to dig into each other’s phones to have a good time?”

“I agree” Jeno said, leaning back in his chair. “Privacy is important. It’s not about having secrets—it’s about boundaries.”

Jaemin, however, couldn’t resist poking fun at his friend. “Sounds like you’ve got something to hide, Jeno. What’s in there? A secret Candy Crush addiction?”

Jeno shot him a look, his jaw tightening. “Don’t start, Jaemin. Unlike you, I don’t feel the need to broadcast my entire life to everyone.”

The tension between them sparked briefly before Renjun jumped in with a soothing tone. “Come on, it’s just a game. It doesn’t have to mean anything. If we’re all good friends, what’s there to worry about? It’s not like anyone here is hiding anything serious… right?”

Renjun’s words hung in the air, and one by one, the group exchanged hesitant glances.

“Fine” Mark sighed, clearly resigned. “If everyone’s doing it, I’ll do it too.”

Haechan groaned dramatically. “This is peer pressure. I hope you all know that.”

“I’ll take that as a yes” Chinsun said with a grin, sliding her phone onto the table.

Jeno hesitated, his lips pressed into a thin line, but Daeun nudged him playfully. “Come on, Jeno. Live a little.”

With a resigned huff, Jeno placed his phone down next to Chinsun’s, muttering something under his breath about regretting this later.

Finally, one by one, everyone added their phones to the pile in the center of the table.

“There” Yunhee said with a satisfied smile. “Now we’re all on equal footing. Let’s see who’s brave enough to go first when something comes in.”

Before anyone could respond, Soyul glanced toward the window, her eyes widening. “Hey! The eclipse is starting!”

The group immediately stood, wine glasses in hand, and moved to the balcony to watch the celestial event unfold.

The moon hung low in the sky, its bright silver glow slowly dimming as the Earth’s shadow crept across its surface. The conversation quieted as they all gazed upward, the air filled with a rare sense of awe and tranquility.

“Is it just me, or does everything feel… surreal right now?” Daeun murmured, leaning against Jeno.

“It’s not just you,” Jaemin replied, his voice softer than usual.

As the shadow consumed more of the moon, Haechan broke the silence with a playful nudge at Chenle. “So, Chenle, is this where your mystery girlfriend was supposed to make a grand entrance? Under the moonlight?”

Chenle rolled his eyes, but his smirk betrayed his amusement. “Very funny. I think I’ll enjoy the moon more without any distractions, thanks.”

Mark chuckled. “Let’s just hope this night doesn’t turn into an eclipse of our friendships once the phones start buzzing.”

The group laughed lightly, the tension from earlier melting into the cool night air.

The group slowly made their way back to the dining room, the warm light inside contrasting with the cool, dark night outside. They settled into their seats once again, still buzzing from the beauty of the eclipse. Glasses were refilled, and the conversation naturally shifted to lighter, nostalgic topics as they relaxed into the evening.

“You know,” Haechan began, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin, “we’ve all grown up so much, but let’s not forget—I used to be the king of our little circle back in the day.”

“Oh, here we go” Mark muttered, rolling his eyes with a smile.

“No, no, let him cook.” Jaemin said, laughing as he folded his arms. “I wanna hear this version of history.”

“I was the guy” Haechan continued dramatically, ignoring the interruptions. “The life of every party. The charmer. The—”

“The biggest headache” Mark interjected with a snort.

“That, too.” Renjun chimed in, grinning. “Remember how many times we had to cover for you when you’d ghost some poor girl at a party?”

Haechan feigned offense, placing a hand on his chest. “Excuse me, ghosting is such a strong word. I simply… diversified my options.”

“Diversified?” Chinsun repeated with a raised eyebrow. “And yet, here you are, stuck with me.”

“‘Stuck’ is the wrong word” Haechan said smoothly, slipping his arm around her. “I’d say I retired from the game because I found my MVP.”

The table groaned collectively at his cheesy line, but Chinsun blushed nonetheless.

“You weren’t the only one with ‘game,’ though” Renjun said, turning to Jaemin. “Mr. Cool over here wasn’t too bad himself.”

Jaemin smirked, shrugging casually. “What can I say? Some of us don’t need to try too hard.”

“Please” Jeno scoffed, shaking his head. “The only reason you didn’t need to try too hard was because I was always stuck as your wingman. And let me tell you, your success came at my expense more times than I can count.”

Jaemin laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, that’s fair. But hey, it all worked out, right? We ended up with the two best friends. Perfect symmetry.”

Soyul and Daeun exchanged a knowing glance, their eyebrows raised. “And you two don’t find that a little suspicious?” Soyul teased.

“Not at all” Jaemin said confidently, draping an arm around Soyul’s chair. “It’s destiny. A natural alignment of the stars.”

“You mean of the drinks” Daeun joked, nudging Jeno playfully. “I’m pretty sure destiny was just a lot of late-night outings and bad pick-up lines.”

“You wound me” Jeno said, placing a hand over his heart in mock pain.

“And then there’s Mark and Renjun” Haechan said, pointing his fork at them with a mischievous grin. “Our very own nerd squad.”

“Hey!” Mark and Renjun protested in unison, drawing laughter from everyone else.

“It’s true” Haechan insisted, leaning forward. “These two were impossible to drag out. Mark was always studying or working on some project, and Renjun was, what, painting or reading about obscure history?”

“Excuse me” Renjun said with mock indignation, “I had a social life.”

“Sure” Haechan teased, “as long as it involved trivia nights or art galleries.”

Mark laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, fine, we weren’t exactly the party animals of the group. But we had our moments.”

“‘Moments,’” Haechan echoed, grinning. “Like when I had to physically drag you to that one party because you refused to leave your textbook?”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Mark protested. “It was finals week, and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“That’s because Yunhee begged me to bring you out” Haechan said, smirking. “She had the biggest crush on you.”

Yunhee blushed, narrowing her eyes at him. “Did you have to tell everyone that?”

“Come on, it’s cute!” Haechan said, laughing.

“It was also embarrassing,” Yunhee admitted, shaking her head. “I was into this guy who barely noticed me unless we were talking about something academic. And when he did come to parties, he just stood in the corner with a drink, looking like he wanted to go home.”

Mark chuckled sheepishly. “I wasn’t exactly the most social person back then.”

“You weren’t social at all,” Yunhee teased. “But I guess it worked out in the end.”

“Meanwhile,” Chenle cut in, grinning, “I was the reason we even had parties to talk about. Admit it—my house was the spot.”

“Oh, absolutely” Jaemin said. “Your parties were legendary.”

“Legendary is putting it lightly” Renjun added. “Remember that Halloween party where someone brought a fog machine and accidentally set off the fire alarm?”

Chenle laughed, his eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, and we all had to evacuate in full costumes. I’ll never forget Haechan running outside in his inflatable dinosaur suit.”

“It was the look of the night.” Haechan said proudly.

The girls listened intently as the guys reminisced, chiming in occasionally with laughter or disbelief.

“And the Christmas party where Mark fell asleep on the couch because he had too much of Chenle’s grandpa gin?” Jaemin added.

“Classic” Haechan said, shaking his head.

“I was tired” Mark defended, though his grin gave him away.

The stories flowed easily, filling the room with warmth and nostalgia as they recounted their wild, carefree days. Each memory was met with laughter, teasing, and the occasional exaggerated retelling, the bonds between them growing all the more evident with every shared anecdote.

As the laughter from their previous conversation subsided, a distinct ping rang out in the room, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Who’s the lucky first?” Haechan asked, grinning mischievously as he leaned forward.

Renjun, sitting at the far end of the table, pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. His expression didn’t change much, but the way he hesitated to speak piqued everyone’s curiosity.

“Well?” Yunhee prompted, her eyes narrowing playfully. “What is it? Don’t keep us in suspense.”

“It’s nothing” Renjun said, placing his phone face down on the table.

“Oh no, you don’t get to say ‘nothing,’” Haechan teased, reaching across the table as though to snatch the phone. Renjun was faster, pulling it away with a smirk.

“It’s not even interesting” Renjun assured them. “Just some random promotion for the bar under my apartment.”

The table erupted into groans and laughter, with Haechan being the loudest. “A bar promotion? That’s the first notification of the night? Renjun, man, you’re supposed to give us something juicy!”

“What do you want me to do?!” Renjun said, feigning indignation. “It’s not like I control who texts me. And besides, maybe this is a sign I need to go out more.”

“Or,” Haechan said, leaning back with a grin, “it’s a sign that the highlight of your social life is your landlord’s weekly happy hour.”

Renjun threw a balled-up napkin at him, which Haechan caught midair. “Better a bar promotion than whatever spam texts you’re probably getting” Renjun retorted.

“Touché” Haechan admitted, laughing.

The conversation resumed, glasses were raised, and a few jokes flew across the table. Just as things began to settle, though, a chorus of pings echoed through the room, drawing everyone’s attention again.

This time, it wasn’t just one phone.

Mark, Jeno, Chenle, Renjun and Haechan all glanced down at their screens at the same time.

“Okay, what the hell?” Jaemin asked, his tone half-joking but tinged with genuine confusion. “Is there some group chat I’m not part of?”

“No” Mark said quickly, his brow furrowing as he read his message. “It’s just a basketball thing.”

“Yeah” Jeno added, glancing at Jaemin with a sheepish smile. “Johnny’s organizing a game next weekend.”

“Basketball?” Jaemin repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Why didn’t I get this message?”

The other guys exchanged quick, awkward looks. “It’s not a big deal” Chenle said, shrugging. “Maybe Johnny forgot to add you?”

“Forgot?” Jaemin said, his eyebrows shooting up. “I mean, I get it—I’m not the greatest player. But even Renjun was invited! And he doesn’t even play!”

Renjun, who had been quietly sipping his drink, nearly choked. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like” Jaemin shot back, his arms crossed. “You’ve never even held a basketball, and somehow, you get an invite over me?”

“Okay, first of all” Renjun said, setting his glass down, “you don’t have to attack me just because Johnny doesn’t think you can dunk.”

The table broke into laughter, though Jaemin didn’t look entirely amused.

“Come on, Jaem” Haechan said, clapping his hands. “It’s not personal. Maybe Johnny just assumed you’d be busy or something.”

“Yeah” Mark added, though his voice lacked conviction. “It’s probably just an oversight.”

“An oversight” Jaemin repeated flatly, leaning back in his chair. “Right.”

Sensing the tension, Soyul reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Jaemin. You don’t even like playing basketball that much.”

“That’s not the point” Jaemin muttered, moving away from her touch.

Daeun nodded in agreement, her voice soothing. “Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding. Why don’t you talk to Johnny about it? I’m sure he didn’t mean to exclude you.”

Jaemin exhaled sharply but nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

Jeno, who had been unusually quiet, cleared his throat. “Hey, Jaem. Shall we go get that my bottle of wine?”

Jaemin glanced at him, confused about the timing, then shrugged. “Sure.”

The two of them got up and moved to the kitchen, leaving the others to continue chatting.

Jeno hesitated before speaking, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, about the basketball thing… it wasn’t really my call. Johnny’s the one who made the list.”

“Johnny,” Jaemin repeated, his tone skeptical.

“Yeah” Jeno said quickly. “I swear, I didn’t even know he was putting it together until I got the text. If I’d known, I would’ve made sure you were invited.”

Jaemin stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “It’s not that big of a deal, I guess. It’s just—”

“You feel left out” Jeno finished for him, his voice soft.

Jaemin nodded, his posture relaxing slightly. “Yeah. I mean, we’re supposed to be friends, right?”

“Of course we are.” Jeno said firmly. “And I’ll talk to Johnny about it, okay? You should’ve been on that list, no question.”

Jaemin looked at him for a moment longer, then smiled. “Thanks, man, you know me better than anyone.”

“Of course.” Jeno said, clapping him on the shoulder.

The two of them returned to the table, the tension already resolved. As they sat down, Chenle was in the middle of recounting one of his party stories, the laughter and energy of the group pulling them back into the warmth of the evening.

The conversation inside the house had mellowed into a cozy rhythm, everyone sharing their thoughts on recent movies and books.

“Did anyone see that new space thriller? The one with the impossible black hole scene?” Renjun asked, setting his glass down.

“Yeah, and it was painfully unrealistic,” Jeno said, shaking his head. “They really expect us to believe the ship survived that?”

“It’s science fiction” Soyul chimed in. “You’re supposed to suspend disbelief. Besides, the emotional storyline carried it.”

“Emotional?” Haechan leaned back in his chair. “You’re telling me crying in zero gravity makes up for ignoring basic physics?”

“Only you would care about physics in a movie” Daeun teased.

“Fine, maybe it’s not for me” Haechan replied with mock offense. He finished his drink and stood up with a stretch. “On that note, I’m calling a cigarette break. Chenle?”

“Yeah, why not” Chenle said, getting up as well.

The two exited to the balcony, Haechan sliding the glass door shut behind them. The cold air hit them immediately, but Haechan seemed unbothered as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. After taking a long drag, he passed the lighter to Chenle, who mirrored his actions.

For a moment, they stood in silence, looking out at the city lights.

Chenle broke the quiet. “Alright, you’re acting weird. What’s up?”

Haechan hesitated, flicking ash off the edge of the balcony. “I need a favor” he finally said.

Chenle turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “From me? That’s rare. What kind of favor?”

Haechan glanced at the door to ensure no one was listening. “I need to switch phones with you. Just for a little while.”

Chenle blinked, taken aback. “What? Why?”

“Because” Haechan said, lowering his voice further, “someone’s going to send me a picture in about half an hour, and… let’s just say it’s better if Chinsun doesn’t see it.”

Chenle stared at him, cigarette paused mid-air. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” Haechan replied, taking another drag.

Chenle leaned against the railing, his expression growing more incredulous by the second. “What kind of picture are we talking about here?”

“You know.” Haechan said, his tone evasive.

Chenle gave him a flat look. “Haechan. What kind of picture?”

“A… personal one,” Haechan muttered, his gaze fixed on the glowing tip of his cigarette.

Chenle groaned, rubbing his temple. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re risking everything with that girl over nudes?”

“Shhh!” Haechan hissed, waving his hands in panic. “Keep your voice down!”

Chenle sighed, exhaling a puff of smoke. “Unbelievable. Who is she?”

Haechan hesitated again, shifting uncomfortably.

“Don’t tell me…” Chenle said, his tone sharpening as realization dawned. “It’s Mark’s sister, isn’t it?”

Haechan didn’t respond immediately, but the small, mischievous grin that crept onto his face was answer enough.

Chenle groaned louder this time, throwing his hands up. “You’re out of your mind! If Mark finds out, you’re dead.”

“He’s not going to find out” Haechan said confidently. “We’re discreet. Besides, she’s the one sending the picture, not me.”

“Wow, what a great excuse,” Chenle said sarcastically. “Do you even hear yourself? This is a terrible idea.”

“Look” Haechan said, leaning closer, “She’s always had a little thing for me, you know that.”

“That doesn’t mean you should encourage it!” Chenle scolded. “Mark is one of your best friends. How do you think he’d feel about you messing with his sister?”

“I’m not messing with her” Haechan argued.

Chenle stared at him, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Please, Chenle.” Haechan said, his tone shifting to one of genuine desperation. “I’m begging you. Just this once. It’s harmless, I swear.”

Chenle hesitated, clearly torn. He took one last drag from his cigarette before tossing it into the ashtray. “This is such a bad idea, I’m telling you” he said finally. “But fine. I’ll help you. Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t” Haechan said, relief washing over him. “Thank you, man. I owe you.”

Chenle rolled his eyes as he turned to slide the door open. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember, when this blows up in your face, I told you so.”

As Chenle stepped back inside, leaving the door ajar, Haechan stayed behind, staring out at the city with a mix of relief and unease. He took one last puff of his cigarette before letting it die, his thoughts racing as he trued to convince himself that everything would work out.

The air inside had warmed considerably, filled with the clinking of glasses, faint laughter, and the soft hum of conversation. Most of the group had gravitated toward the kitchen, where Mark and Yunhee busily orchestrated the next course. Renjun and Chinsun, however, remained in the living room, seated comfortably on their seats, engaged in a quiet conversation.

“You’ve always been good with people,” Chinsun said with a warm smile, her gaze steady on Renjun. “It’s no wonder the kids in your music workshops like you so much.”

Renjun rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I think it’s less about me and more about music. Kids just need a way to express themselves, you know?”

Chinsun leaned forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest. “It’s still a talent, though. Not everyone has that ability to connect.”

Just then, the balcony door slid open, and Haechan stepped back inside, brushing the cold air off his sleeves. He immediately caught sight of the scene and quirked an eyebrow.

“Wow, you two look cozy” Haechan said, his voice laced with playful sarcasm. He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the doorway. “Should I be worried?”

Chinsun didn’t even flinch, rolling her eyes as she turned toward him. “Shut up, Haechan” she said, a hint of exasperation in her tone.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he replied with an exaggerated shrug, though his eyes lingered a little longer on Renjun before he finally walked past them into the kitchen.

And before this, without being noticed (or so he thought) he successfully switched phones with Chenle.

Daeun and Soyul stood near the counter, half-hidden behind a column, their glasses in hand. From their vantage point, they had a clear view of Haechan’s expression as he glanced over at Chinsun and Renjun.

“Did you see that?” Daeun whispered, tilting her head toward the living room.

Soyul smirked, her lips barely moving. “He’s so jealous, it’s almost funny.”

Daeun narrowed her eyes slightly. “Do you think Chinsun has a thing for Renjun?”

Soyul shook her head after a moment’s thought. “No way. She’s just naturally warm with everyone. And let’s be honest—Renjun is so clueless about stuff like that.”

Daeun chuckled. “True. And Haechan’s possessiveness is basically part of his personality. Still, it’s kind of cute, jealousy looks good on him”

Their quiet observations were interrupted as the others began filtering back into the kitchen. Plates and trays were passed around, Mark working diligently to ensure everything was perfect for the meal. The room buzzed with chatter about favorite dishes, the best way to cook steak, and Mark’s secret marinade recipe.

Once everyone returned to the dining table, the conversation shifted to lighter topics.

Mark, ever the gracious host, served up plates of food while Yunhee teased him about his near-obsessive attention to detail.

“So, Mark,” Jaemin said, leaning back in his chair. “You really could’ve been a chef. Why didn’t you go for it?”

Mark shrugged modestly. “Cooking’s a hobby. Turning it into a career might’ve taken the fun out of it.”

Yunhee rolled her eyes playfully. “Please, he says that, but he’d probably be a world-famous chef by now if he tried.”

Renjun chimed in, “Honestly, Mark, you should start a cooking blog or something. Share your recipes with the world.”

“Then we’d lose the exclusivity,” Soyul interjected with a grin. “I don’t want everyone knowing Mark’s secrets.”

The group laughed, the energy light and playful—until a phone buzzed loudly on the table, drawing everyone’s attention.

The phone’s screen lit up, displaying the name Monique.

All eyes turned to Chenle, whose “phone” sat innocently on the table.

Chenle stiffened immediately, his hand darting out to grab the phone. “Nothing to see here” he said quickly, trying to play it off.

But Yunhee was faster. “Wait a second” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Monique? Isn’t that Mark’s sister?”

A collective gasp rippled through the table. Haechan froze, his face carefully blank as he avoided looking directly at anyone.

Chenle glanced briefly at Haechan, his expression screaming help me, but Haechan offered no assistance. With a deep breath, Chenle forced a sheepish grin. “Yeah, um… we’ve been reconnecting lately.”

“Reconnecting?” Mark repeated, his voice low and skeptical. His fork paused mid-air, his knuckles tightening slightly.

Jaemin leaned forward, grinning like a kid about to witness chaos. “Open the message, Chenle. Let’s see what she sent.”

“Jaemin!” Daeun scolded, though her curiosity was just as evident in her eyes.

Chenle hesitated, clearly torn. But under the weight of everyone’s stares, he reluctantly unlocked the phone and opened the message. His face went beet red as he saw the photo: a sultry, carefully posed picture of Mark’s sister.

“Whoa” he breathed, his eyes wide with shock.

Immediately, Jaemin and Renjun crowded around to see, while Soyul and Daeun leaned over curiously. Yunhee covered her mouth, stifling a gasp.

“Chenle.” Mark snapped, his tone sharp. “How long has this been going on?”

“Just… a few months” Chenle said weakly, shrinking under Mark’s glare.

“And how long were you planning on keeping this from me?” Mark demanded, his voice rising.

Before Chenle could answer, Daeun interjected, “What about Jiul? Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

Chenle opened his mouth, floundering for an answer, when Haechan finally spoke up.

“Look, the guy finally has some game” Haechan said, his tone breezy as he leaned back in his chair. “Can we give him a little credit?”

The comment earned a mixture of gasps and laughter, though Mark’s expression remained stormy. Yunhee, however, was quick to step in.

“Mark, relax” she said firmly. “Your sister’s an adult. Let her live her life.”

Mark muttered something under his breath, but he reluctantly leaned back in his chair, though his jaw remained tight.

Chenle, meanwhile, shot a glare at Haechan, who merely smirked back at him, clearly unbothered by the chaos he’d created.

Moments later Chinsun glanced at his watch, his expression shifting to one of excitement. “Hey, it’s time! The full eclipse should be happening right now.”

Everyone murmured in agreement, standing up from their chairs and moving toward the balcony once more. The cool night air greeted them as they stepped outside, the moon now completely cloaked in shadow, casting an eerie, beautiful darkness across the sky.

Mark leaned against the railing, gazing up at the celestial phenomenon. “It’s incredible,” he said, his voice quiet but reflective. “The moon’s always there, but we only ever see one side of it. This is one of those rare times the shadow makes it feel… complete.”

Renjun nodded, equally captivated by the view. “It’s like the earth is revealing its own truth. The light we always chase is just an illusion. It’s the shadows that really show us who we are.”

“Leave it to you two philosophers to turn a pretty moon into an existential crisis” Jaemin joked, breaking the momentary silence.

The group chuckled, and Chinsun, inspired by the occasion, clapped her hands together. “This is too good to miss! Let’s take a photo.”

Everyone gathered around her, smiling and adjusting their positions. “Chenle, here” she said, handing him her phone. “You’ve got long arms—take the picture.”

Chenle took the phone with a grin. “Alright, everyone squeeze in. Ready? One, two—”

A sudden notification interrupted him, a message popping up at the top of the screen:

Sunghoon: Hi.

The screen glowed with the name, drawing a moment of awkward silence as everyone caught sight of it.

“Who’s Sunghoon?” Chenle asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, who’s that?” Daeun chimed in, her curiosity piqued.

Haechan, standing just behind Chinsun, stiffened immediately. His voice turned sharp as he asked“What the fuck does he want now?”

Chinsun waved it off, her tone casual but her expression betraying her discomfort. “No one important. Let’s just take the picture.”

Chenle glanced at her skeptically but lifted the phone again. “Alright, where were we? One, two—”

Another message popped up.

Sunghoon: I need you.

The group fell silent again, the tension palpable. Haechan didn’t hesitate this time. He stepped forward, snatching the phone from Chenle’s hand.

“Why the fuck is he texting you this shit?” Haechan’s voice was low but seething, his jaw tight as he looked directly at Chinsun.

Chinsun took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice calm. “He’s been texting me for two weeks now, but I haven’t responded to him at all. You know how much my last relationship broke me. How could you even think I’d entertain this?”

Haechan’s glare didn’t waver. “Oh, please. We all know Sunghoon thinks he’s some kind of hotshot. Does he still have that stupid haircut that you liked so much?”

“Haechan” she snapped, her patience wearing thin. “That’s not the point.”

The group began to shuffle uncomfortably as the argument escalated.

“If you don’t believe me” Chinsun said, her voice firm now, “then call him. Ask him yourself.”

“I don’t need to hear you two flirting” Haechan spat, his tone laced with venom. “Thank you very much.”

The insult stung, and Chinsun’s expression hardened as she yanked her phone back from his grip. Haechan turned away abruptly, grabbing another glass of wine from the table and downing half of it in one go.

Chenle, hesitant but concerned, stepped in. “Maybe you should hear her out first, man—”

“Shut up, Chenle.” Haechan snapped, his words cutting.

Mark, now visibly annoyed, intervened. He reached over and took the wine glass from Haechan’s hand. “That’s enough” he said firmly.

The girls, gathering around Chinsun, encouraged her. “Just call him” Yunhee said softly. “Set things straight. It’ll help.”

Chinsun hesitated but eventually nodded. She dialed the number, her fingers trembling slightly. The phone rang a few times before the call connected.

“Finally, Sunny” Sunghoon’s voice, smooth but laced with smugness. “You decided to call me back. What’s the matter? Does your boyfriend not satisfy you anymore?”

Haechan’s grip on the edge of the table tightened, his knuckles white as he held himself back from exploding.

Chinsun, kept her voice steady. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Sunghoon. Stop contacting me. I’m happy with Haechan.”

A low chuckle echoed through the phone. “He’ll never be me” Sunghoon said arrogantly.

That was the breaking point.

Haechan took the phone from Chinsun’s hand and brought it to his ear. “Thank God” he said coldly, his voice dripping with disdain. “Because I’m so much better, you pathetic fuckass.”

Without waiting for a reply, he hung up and tossed the phone onto the table, the conversation firmly ended.

He didn’t say another word, instead walking back to his seat at the dining table and sinking into his chair. The others exchanged uneasy glances before slowly following him back inside, one by one.

The air in the room was thick with tension after the heated exchange between Haechan and Chinsun. Everyone tried to move on, lightening the atmosphere by reminiscing about past vacations.

“Summer vacations are the best” Jaemin said, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Nothing beats long days at the beach and bonfire nights.”

“Sure, if you like sand everywhere” Yunhee teased. “Winter vacations have charm. Cozy cabins, hot chocolate, and snow-covered landscapes—it’s magical.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, until you’re stuck shoveling snow off the driveway.”

Renjun chuckled. “Both have their perks. I think it depends on where you go. Remember that summer trip we took to Jeju? The hikes, the ocean view—it was perfect.”

“Except for the sunburns” Daeun added with a laugh. “I was peeling for weeks!”

Soyul chimed in “Winter vacations are underrated, though. Remember that ski trip last year? The slopes were amazing, and the hot springs afterward—unforgettable.”

Haechan, still visibly tense, tried to force a laugh. “I’d take summer any day. Winter’s just… depressing. Too much darkness, not enough fun.”

The conversation was beginning to lift the group’s spirits when an unfamiliar chime interrupted them. A strange notification sound echoed through the room, causing everyone to pause.

“Whose phone is that?” Haechan asked, glancing around.

Chenle, sighed trying to stay composed “It’s yours.”

Haechan frowned but nodded slowly. “Right. So… what’s the message?”

As he read the message he looked confused.

Chinsun peaked behind him “Who’s Jisung? And why’s he asking you how are you feeling?”

The table fell silent.

“What the hell?” Jaemin blurted out, leaning forward. “Who’s Jisung?”

Haechan looked at them, trying to think at some excuses. “He’s a new guys who works with me..you know he got a little crush on me and won’t leave me alone” he said, laughing a little.

“Well then” Chenle starts “why don’t you give him an answer?”

Haechan looked back at his friend, gulping. “Right…” He said as he started typing

“I said ‘I’m okay, I’m at a friend house.” Haechan said, nervously putting the phone down.

Another message light up the screen.

Jisung: What? You said you had fever! That’s the whole reason why we didn’t meet tonight. You promised me…

As everyone listen to the message, their faces light up with confusion, looking at the boy.

“What’s going on?” Daeun asked, her voice filled with confusion.

Chinsun’s face was frozen in shock as she whispered, “Haechan…? What did you have to do with this Jisung?”

Haechan let out a strained laugh, trying to diffuse the situation. “Are you guys seriously thinking—what? That I’d be into… guys? Baby, come on” he said, looking directly at Chinsun. “Look at me. How could I ever like boys?”

Renjun, sitting across the table, folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. His voice was calm but pointed. “What’s wrong with liking boys, Haechan?”

The question hung in the air like a loaded weapon.

Haechan’s eyes flicked to Renjun, then back to Chinsun. “Nothing, obviously! But it’s just… not me.”

Renjun’s gaze sharpened, the calm in his tone replaced by something more cutting. “Oh, really?”

Haechan’s voice dropped, pleading. “Renjun, please—”

Renjun leaned forward, cutting him off. “No, please. Go on. This is hilarious, hearing you talk all this shit.”

The rest of the group looked on in confusion, their gazes darting between the two.

“What are you saying, Jun?” Daeun asked hesitantly, her tone laced with concern.

Renjun ignored her, keeping his focus on Haechan. “What? Did you forget about that summer? Oh, wait, maybe you forgot about the whole year too. Yeah, that happens as you get older, doesn’t it?”

The weight of Renjun’s words hit the table like a bomb.

Chinsun’s eyes welled up, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Is this true?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Haechan’s face was pale, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if to steady himself. “It’s not what you think” he started, his voice cracking.

“Then what is it?” Jaemin pressed, his tone confused but firm.

Soyul glanced between Haechan and Renjun. “Wait… are you saying you two…?”

“No!” Haechan exclaimed, his voice too loud, too defensive. “It wasn’t like that! It was just—”

“Just what?” Renjun interrupted coldly. “A phase? A mistake? Poor this Jisung guy, he doesn’t know what he got himself up to”

Chenle shifted uncomfortably. “Guys, maybe this isn’t the time—”

“Shut up, Chenle!” Haechan snapped, then immediately winced, realizing how out of control he sounded.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife when the phone rang, breaking the moment.

Chenle’s phone -now Haechan’s- lights up again for an incoming call.

The name “Jisung” flashed across the screen.

Chenle’s breath hitched. “Don’t answer that” he said quickly, his voice strained.

But it was too late. Renjun, stealing the phone, had already pressed the green button.

Jisung’s voice came through the speaker, sharp and accusatory. “Why did you lie about being sick? We were supposed to meet tonight, and now I find out you’re out with your friends?”

The room went silent.

Haechan, panic flashing across his face, stammered. “I… I don’t even know what you’re talking about… Jisung?”

Jisung scoffed, his tone cutting. “Really? Because I’ve got your location on 360. It’s over, you asshole.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving everyone stunned.

Chinsun’s tears flowed freely now, her hands trembling as she covered her face. The silence was deafening until Haechan finally spoke.

“Guys c’mon..You all know me…I would never do this. I’m not into… boys. It’s not true. None of it is true!”

Renjun let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really?”

Haechan looked at him, pleading. “Renjun, please—”

“No” Renjun said, standing up, his voice steady but full of disappointment. “I’m done listening to this. It’s so funny hearing you deny everything, though. Keep going—it’s entertaining.”

“Renjun, stop” Soyul whispered, her voice soft but firm.

“What am I stopping?” Renjun snapped, glaring at Haechan. “Reminding him of the truth? Maybe he needs it. Or maybe he’s too scared to admit it.”

Haechan sank back into his chair, his face pale and his shoulders slumped. Chinsun stared at him, her tear-filled eyes full of betrayal and heartbreak.

No one spoke.

The room was silent, thick with tension, after Renjun’s cutting remarks. Haechan was frozen, struggling to form a coherent response, his hands gripping the edge of the table like a lifeline. Yunhee, however, decided it was time to step in.

“Okay, enough” she said, her voice sharp, rising over the tension. “Renjun, you don’t have to do this. He’s already overwhelmed, and you’re just—”

Renjun cut her off with a cold laugh, looking her straight in the eye. “Oh, don’t even start, Yunhee. You want to defend him now? I have every right to get angry since how he left me for you?”

The room collectively sucked in a breath.

“What?” Jeno blurted out, his voice laced with disbelief. “Oh god, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Mark turned slowly to Yunhee, his face a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “What is he saying?”

Yunhee looked as though she had been caught in headlights. Her mouth opened, then closed, as her hands fidgeted nervously on her lap.

Haechan sighed deeply, throwing his head back as if resigning himself.

“Yeah, Mark” Renjun said, his voice heavy. “Where do you think she got those new earrings?”

His voice was dripping with venom as he gestured toward Yunhee. “They were mine, by the way. Before Haechan decided he was fully straight overnight and that fucking his best friend’s girlfriend was better.”

All eyes turned to Yunhee, who instinctively touched her earrings, her face pale.

Soyul, her voice trembling with shock, muttered, “Oh my god, are you serious? This is insane.”

Mark stared at Yunhee, then at Haechan, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to process the betrayal. “Yunhee…” he began, his voice quiet but full of hurt.

Yunhee’s voice cracked as she tried to explain. “Mark, I—It’s not what you think—”

Chinsun, who had been silently crying, let out a bitter laugh. She stood up abruptly, wiping her tears with shaky hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me” she said, her voice breaking but laced with nervous laughter. “This is crazy. And you—” she pointed at Haechan, her laugh turning into a scoff. “You even had the boldness to accuse me of cheating? While you’re sitting here with a whole whore army?”

Yunhee bristled, standing up to face her. “I’m sorry, who are you calling a whore?”

“Oh, you heard me” Chinsun snapped, her hands on her hips.

“Excuse me, I was here first.” Yunhee shot back, her voice dripping with venom.

Renjun leaned back in his chair, watching the chaos unfold with a sardonic grin. “If we’re playing that game, technically, I was first in line.”

Both women froze, turning their angry glares on him.

Mark, meanwhile, hadn’t moved, his gaze fixed on Haechan, his face a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “You were my best friend,” he said quietly, his voice trembling. “How could you do this?”

Haechan opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, looking utterly defeated. “Mark, I—”

“Don’t” Mark interrupted, shaking his head. “Just don’t.”

The room fell silent again, but it didn’t last long.

Jeno broke it with a frustrated sigh, throwing his hands in the air. “God, Haechan, you couldn’t have just told us? About all of this? Especially about… you know.”

Haechan frowned, his exhaustion giving way to irritation. “Why the hell would I have to tell you?”

Jeno leaned forward, incredulous. “Uh, maybe because we all used to sleep and shower together back in the day? I want to know if the guy I sleep next to is a homosexual.”

Haechan tilted his head, genuinely confused. “And why would that concern you Jeno?”

“Of course it concerns me Haechan I-“ Jeno started before being interrupted.

Jaemin, who had been quietly sipping his drink, suddenly smirked, half-laughing. “Oh, you shouldn’t be the one pointing fingers, Jeno.”

All eyes turned to Jaemin now, confusion written across everyone’s faces.

Daeun blinked, looking at him. “What are you talking about?”

Jaemin looked at Jeno, then back at the group, his expression unreadable. “Really? None of you ever noticed anything? You thought I had fewer girls than Haechan just because I wasn’t trying hard enough? There was a reason I was always with Jeno.”

The table erupted in shock, voices overlapping in disbelief.

“W-what..?” Jaemin’s revelation sent Soyul into full-blown tears.

Renjun, however, seemed unfazed. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Yeah, I already knew. Heard them in the changing rooms back in high school.”

Soyul stood abruptly, her sobs echoing in the room. “Jaemin,” she cried, her voice breaking. “This isn’t still going on, right? It’s just old stuff, it isn’t happening anymore right? Right Jaemin? Tell me I’m right.”

Daeun immediately went to comfort her, wrapping her arms around Soyul’s shaking shoulders.

Jaemin’s smirk disappeared, replaced by guilt as he rubbed a hand over his face. “Soyul, I—”

“Is it still happening?” Soyul partially screamed, her voice filled with desperation.

Jaemin lowered his head, unable to meet her eyes.

Soyul’s tears intensified, and she choked out “Jaemin I-m..”

The boy tried to look at her.

“I’m pregnant Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened in shock, and he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“What?..”

But Soyul didn’t let him approach her. She backed away, shaking her head as she sobbed uncontrollably. Then, turning on her heel, she bolted toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Renjun, looking exasperated but concerned, stood up and followed her, muttering “Great. Just great.”

The room was left in stunned silence, everyone staring at Jaemin, who stood frozen, his face pale.

Haechan, still seated, let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Well, this just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?”

No one responded. The only sound was Soyul’s muffled sobs from behind the bathroom door.

The tension in the room hung heavy like a storm cloud, and it wasn’t long before Jeno erupted. He slammed his hands on the table, standing up abruptly and glaring at Jaemin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he barked, his voice shaking with anger. “Why would you say that? To everyone? Here? Now?”

Jaemin, still standing, looked at him, his expression unreadable. He met Jeno’s furious gaze with a steady one of his own. “What did you expect, Jeno? That we’d just keep pretending forever? Sooner or later, it was bound to come out. Better now than years down the line.”

Jeno scoffed, his tone bitter. “You think this is better? You think this was the right time? I would’ve taken this secret to my grave if I could. That’s what I wanted.”

Jaemin smirked slightly, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you would, Jeno. You’ve always been good at hiding, haven’t you?”

Jeno’s fists clenched, his jaw tightening as he took a threatening step toward Jaemin. “You have no idea what you’ve just done” he hissed.

At that moment, Haechan pushed his chair back and stood, his eyes flicking between the two men. His voice was sharp as he interjected, “Okay, hold up. Where’s all this oppressed homophobia coming from, Jeno?”

Jeno whipped his head toward Haechan, his face flushed with frustration. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Haechan crossed his arms and tilted his head, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. “Oh, come on. You’re out here acting like Jaemin just destroyed your life or something. Let’s not forget, it was you in his bed, not someone else. Repeatedly. No matter how much you want to deny it now.”

Jeno’s face turned red, and his breathing quickened. “Shut up, Haechan. You don’t know anything about it.”

“I don’t?” Haechan shot back, taking a step forward. His voice grew louder, his tone dripping with mockery. “Because it sounds to me like you’re just mad that you liked it. That you liked him. And now you’re pissed because everyone knows.”

At this point he clearly knows what he’s talking about.

Like he’s talking to his younger self.

“Don’t,” Jeno growled, pointing a finger at Haechan, his voice trembling with rage. “Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

“Oh, but it is,” Jaemin interjected, his voice cold. He stepped closer to Jeno, his eyes narrowing. “You can try to rewrite history all you want, but you know damn well that none of this was one-sided. You were just as much a part of it as I was.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Jaemin’s words hanging in the air like a guillotine. Jeno turned away, running a hand through his hair as he paced in frustration. His breathing was labored, his mind clearly racing as he tried to process everything.

The tension in the room hadn’t yet dissipated when Daeun, standing near the edge of the table, looked visibly shaken. Her normally composed demeanor was gone, replaced by wide eyes and a trembling hand that hovered near her lips. She had been silent through most of the arguments, absorbing the chaos, but now it seemed something had shaken her even more.

And, unexpectedly, it was her phone that buzzed sharply on the table, piercing through the uneasy quiet. The sound was different—a personal ringtone—and it made her freeze. Slowly, everyone’s attention shifted to her.

She stared at the phone like it was a live grenade, her breath catching. She gulped audibly, her hands fidgeting by her sides.

From across the table, Mark raised an eyebrow, his voice tinged with suspicion. “Well? Are you going to get that?”

Daeun’s gaze flicked to him, then to the phone. Her voice cracked slightly as she forced herself to speak. “Are we really… still doing this?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with resignation.

Chenle, who had been unusually quiet during the earlier confrontations, suddenly stood and reached for her phone. “Answer the damn phone, Daeun.” he said firmly, his tone sharper than usual. His eyes met hers with a mix of concern and frustration.

Her hand hesitated over the screen before tremblingly hitting the green button.

“Hello?” she said softly, her voice so low it was almost a whisper.

A man’s voice came through the speaker, loud enough to be heard by the others.

“Daeun?” the male voice called, familiar and almost gentle.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “Yes,” she replied in a small voice. “I’m listening.”

Jeno, who had been quietly stewing after his earlier clash with Jaemin, suddenly sat down beside her. His gaze bore into her, searching, confused, concerned. The intensity of their eye contact was palpable, like an entire conversation was being held without words.

The man’s voice on the other end of the phone continued, oblivious to the growing tension in the room. “I’ve been thinking about you. About… us and everything.” His tone dropped slightly, more hesitant. “How have you been feeling? Since, you know… the thing?”

The weight of his words dropped like a bomb in the room.

Jeno’s eyes narrowed slightly, confusion etching his features. He leaned forward slightly, his focus entirely on Daeun. She didn’t look away, her gaze locked with his even as the voice on the phone kept talking.

The man sighed. “I feel like I should’ve reached out sooner. I just… I’m sorry about how everything happened. We should’ve been more careful.” Then, after a pause, the voice added tentatively, “Does he know?”

Daeun stiffened, her lips parting but no words coming out. She and Jeno stayed locked in their silent standoff until finally, with her voice barely audible, she said, “No. He doesn’t know.”

With that, she ended the call abruptly, her hand shaking as she placed the phone back on the table.

The silence that followed was deafening. No one dared to speak. All eyes were on her and Jeno.

Finally, Jeno broke the silence, his voice low and harsh. “So? What was he talking about?”

Daeun’s hands curled into fists at her sides, but she refused to answer him.

“Daeun” Jeno pressed, his tone rising with frustration. “What the fuck was he talking about?”

She finally spoke, her jaw tight. “You don’t have the right to make that tone with me.” she snapped.

“The hell I don’t!” Jeno’s voice boomed as he stood again, abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Tell me what the fuck he meant!”

Her control broke. “I was pregnant!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the room. She stood as well, facing him with fire in her eyes.

The words hit like a physical blow, and Jeno froze, his face paling.

The room fell silent again, everyone too stunned to even breathe. Daeun and Jeno stared at each other, their gazes unrelenting and raw.

Jeno’s lips moved, but no sound came out at first. Finally, he whispered, his voice broken and tentative, “It wasn’t mine, was it?”

Daeun let out a bitter laugh, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “How could it have been yours, Jeno? It’s been months since the last time you touched me.”

Her words cut deep and Jeno flinched.

Then, with a deliberate pause, she glanced at Jaemin—just briefly, but enough for everyone to catch it—before turning her gaze back to Jeno. Her voice dropped to a deadly calm. “…And now I understand why.”

The implication of her words rippled through the room like an electric shock.

Daeun’s gaze lingered on Jeno for a moment longer before she let out a shaky breath and stormed away, walking past the table. She headed toward the bathroom, where Soyul was still crying, cuddled with Renjun.

Jeno stood rooted to the spot, his fists clenched tightly by his sides. His face was a mixture of shock, anger, and something deeper—regret, maybe, or guilt.

No one said a word. The weight of the revelation was too much to process.

Jeno finally let out a shaky breath and sat back down, his head in his hands. “What the fuck,” he muttered under his breath, though no one could tell if he was talking to himself or everyone else.

The heavy silence in the living room seemed impenetrable, each person trapped in their own thoughts after the night’s shocking revelations. Even the usual sounds of the house—Mark’s fridge humming, the faint ticking of a wall clock—felt muted under the suffocating weight of everything left unsaid.

Then, suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Everyone jolted, startled by the noise, and looked around the room in confusion.

“Who the hell is that?” Jaemin muttered under his breath, still nursing the glass of wine he hadn’t taken a sip from.

Chinsun, still perched on the edge of the sofa where she’d been sitting with Chenle, let out a dry laugh. “I guess another one of Lee Donghyuck’s boyfriends has arrived!” she said, her tone cutting.

Haechan glared at her from his corner of the room, but before he could retort, Chinsun stood, brushing imaginary dust off her pants, and motioned toward the door. Chenle hesitated but eventually stood alongside her.

The rest of the group, including Renjun, Daeun, and Soyul, who had just returned from the bathroom, slowly began to gather near the door. The tension among them was palpable as they waited for Chinsun to open it.

When she finally did, the tall, broad figure of a strikingly handsome young man was revealed. His tailored coat and polished shoes screamed wealth, and his air of confidence seemed out of place in the disheveled chaos of Mark’s house.

The man smiled hesitantly, trying to break the ice. “Hi, I’m—”

But Chinsun interrupted him before he could finish. “You can come in and get Haechan,” she snapped, crossing her arms. “And then the both of you can get the fuck out of this house.”

The young man blinked, clearly caught off guard, his confused gaze shifting from Chinsun to the rest of the group. His eyes scanned the crowd, passing over each face until they landed on one that finally seemed to click.

“…Uh, I don’t even know who Haechan is” he said, his voice unsure but firm. His eyes locked onto his loved one, and his expression softened. “I’m here for Chenle.”

The room fell into a stunned silence.

The air, already heavy, seemed to grow impossibly thicker.

Chenle let out a long, weary sigh, stepping forward past his frozen friends to stand beside the man. He reached out and took his hand, intertwining their fingers, and turned to face the group. His gaze swept over their stunned expressions—some confused, some shocked.

“Yes” Chenle began calmly, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “This is my boyfriend, Jisung. Or as some of you may know him… Jiul.”

The collective gasp that followed was almost theatrical in its intensity.

“Jiul?” Jeno blurted out, his tone somewhere between disbelief and accusation. “Why the hell did you tell us it was a girl?”

“And why didn’t you bring him to dinner?” Yunhee added, her voice tinged with genuine confusion.

Chenle huffed out a dry laugh, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jisung, who looked equally baffled by the situation.

“You want to know why?” Chenle began, his voice sharper now as his frustration bubbled to the surface. He gestured around the room with his free hand, his gaze unwavering. “Look at everything that’s happened tonight. Look at how all of you reacted to Haechan’s situation, to Renjun’s story. The petty fights, the accusations, the thinly veiled homophobia that’s been lurking under the surface all night. And you wonder why I didn’t bring Jisung here?”

No one spoke, though a few of them visibly shifted, uncomfortable under his words.

Chenle shook his head and let out a bitter laugh. “I told you Jisung was a girl because I knew—I knew—that if I told the truth, you’d judge me. You’d judge him. You’d find some way to make this about your own insecurities instead of just letting us be happy.”

Jisung squeezed the boy’s hand gently, his expression softening, but Chenle wasn’t done.

“I didn’t want him to come tonight, and now I’m glad I didn’t bring him to dinner,” Chenle continued. “Because this,” he gestured at the group again, “this mess? It would’ve ruined him. He’s too pure for this—too pure for all of you.”

He turned his gaze pointedly to Jeno and then to Jaemin. “You two can’t even have a functional friendship without dragging your relationship baggage into it.”

Then he turned to Haechan. “You spend so much time lying to yourself and everyone else that you’ve started destroying the people who care about you most. You have no right to judge anyone else when you’ve been tearing your own life apart from the inside.”

Finally, his gaze landed on the entire group, sweeping across them like a storm. “And the rest of you? You sit here and watch, like you’re better than everyone else, when the truth is you’re just as broken and hypocritical. You still have all this deep-seated homophobia inside of you—whether you realize it or not. You can’t even handle a little honesty without blowing up. And that’s on you. That’s something you all need to fix in yourselves instead of pointing fingers at everyone else.”

The room fell silent again, Chenle’s words hanging heavy in the air.

Jisung finally spoke up, his voice hesitant but kind. “Uh… Should we go? I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

Chenle glanced at him, his expression softening for the first time since he started talking. “Yes” he said quietly. “I think it’s time to go home”

Chenle gave one last glance at the group, his eyes hard but filled with disappointment. “Good night, everyone,” he said flatly, his hand still clasped firmly in Jisung’s. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the others staring at the space they had occupied moments before.

Renjun was the first to move. His gaze flickered to the others—no goodbye, no explanation—just a glance that spoke of finality. Without a word, he walked over to Daeun, who had been standing near the kitchen island, her expression unreadable. “Come on,” he said softly, and she nodded, letting him guide her out of the house.

Soyul followed soon after, her tear-streaked face pale and exhausted. Chinsun, who had been silently leaning against the wall, pushed herself off with a small sigh. She grabbed her coat and bag and walked toward the door without sparing anyone a second glance.

They didn’t say goodbye. The door opened, and they left.

Jaemin and Jeno stood awkwardly near the door, their expressions as cold as the night air that began to seep through the cracks. Jeno looked at Jaemin, his eyes conflicted, before sighing heavily and grabbing his coat from the back of a chair. Jaemin followed suit, his movements slower, as if weighed down by unspoken words.

As they reached the door, Jaemin hesitated, looking back at Yunhee. His lips twitched into a faint smile—one of acknowledgment, regret, and resignation all rolled into one. He nodded at her slightly before stepping out after Jeno, letting the door fall shut behind them.

Now, only Mark, Yunhee, and Haechan remained.

The living room felt cavernous, like a hollow shell of the home it had been only hours earlier. The three of them stood frozen, avoiding each other’s gazes.

Haechan sighed deeply and moved toward the coat rack. He pulled on his jacket, his movements uncharacteristically slow. He lingered for a moment, standing by the door, his hand resting on the handle.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mark and Yunhee exchanged a glance, but neither of them responded. There were no words left, nothing that could smooth over the damage that had been done tonight.

Haechan didn’t wait for a reply. He opened the door and stepped out into the cold, letting the door close behind him with a soft click.

One by one, as they exited the house, the lunar eclipse began to fade. The moon, which had been cloaked in shadow, slowly emerged into the light once more. Its silver glow illuminated the quiet streets outside, casting long shadows as if trying to cleanse the darkness that had enveloped the night.

Mark stood by the window, watching as the obscurity faded and the world outside returned to normal. The celestial phenomenon, which had felt so significant just hours earlier, now seemed like nothing more than a fleeting event—a brief moment of darkness before the light inevitably returned.

Underneath the glow of the moonlight, Chenle and Jisung waited near their car. They lingered by the curb, their faces relaxed, but their conversation was light and casual.

Daeun and Soyul exited the house shortly after, joined by Renjun and Chinsun. They strolled down the steps, their chatter warm and friendly. Daeun raised an eyebrow at Jisung, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “So, who’s this handsome guy, huh?” he asked.

Chinsun followed up, her curiosity piqued. “Where have you been hiding him, Chenle?”

Chenle stole a quick glance at Jisung before responding smoothly “Oh, we’re just really close friends. Same department and all that. You know how it is.”

The others nodded, the explanation seemingly enough, and the group shifted into easy conversation. Laughter bubbled up as Jaemin and Jeno joined them, their arms casually draped over their girlfriends. Jeno playfully nudged Chenle with a grin. “Something’s fishy. Is there something going on between you two? Chenle, are you hiding something?”

“Me?” Chenle asked, feigning mock indignation as he stole another glance at Jisung. “Never.”

Everyone laughed, the tension of the evening evaporating into the cool night air. When Haechan finally emerged from the house, Chinsun turned to him with a radiant smile, her hand waving him over. “Come on, baby! We’re all waiting for you!”

Haechan jogged down the steps, his face lighting up as he reached her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “What’d I miss?” he asked, slipping an arm around her waist.

“Nothing important” she replied with a grin.

Chenle jingled his car keys. “Alright, I guess this is where we part ways. See you all next time?”

A chorus of agreements followed, and the group exchanged playful goodbyes.

Haechan stopped in his tracks, turning to call out, “Jaemin! Don’t forget about the basketball game next weekend. We’ve got space if you can keep up.”

Jaemin smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Keep up? I’m ready to destroy you.”

“I’d like to see you try” Haechan shot back with a grin, before returning to Chinsun’s side.

The group dispersed, heading to their cars or walking down the street under the soft glow of the moonlight, as though nothing had shifted in the delicate balance of their friendships.

Back at the house, Mark and Yunhee were finishing up. The table was cleared, the wine glasses washed and left to dry. Mark wiped his hands on a towel as Yunhee sat on the edge of the bed, taking off her jewels.

“Long night” she said, her voice light.

Mark nodded, leaning against the doorway of their bedroom. “Yeah. You know, I’m glad we didn’t play that game tonight” he said, his tone measured.

Yunhee glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “Why? What’s so bad about a silly game?”

Mark sighed, crossing his arms. “Sometimes it’s better not to know everything. People have their secrets, and maybe they need to stay secrets. Not because they’re trying to hurt anyone, but because knowing them wouldn’t help anything. It would just… ruin things.”

Yunhee considered this for a moment, nodding slowly. “I guess you’re right. But honestly, I don’t even have anything to hide” she said with a small smile as she placed her earrings on the nightstand, right next to her phone.

Mark’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Those earrings are beautiful, by the way” he said softly.

Yunhee chuckled, sliding under the covers. “Thanks, they’re my favorite.”

Mark reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. “Goodnight,” he murmured as the room plunged into darkness.

Outside, the moon shone brightly, its light spilling into the quiet streets below. The obscurity had passed, but its lingering shadows remained, woven subtly into the hearts of those who had gathered that night. Though the light had returned, it seemed that not everything could go back to normal. And yet, life went on, as it always does, under the moon’s watchful gaze.

[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.)

[thezombieprostitute]

Dragonfly - Part 4

Summary: Steve has just about everything he could ever want in life. He's got you, a baby on the way, and a successful Family. No one would dare interfere with that. Right?

A/N: Reader is female, pregnant. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Death threats, Implied violence, Pregnancy. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

Steve quietly approaches you as you're sitting on the couch, feet propped up, snacking on your favorite ice cream. You see him and smile, making him sigh, "how are you so damn gorgeous?"

You roll your eyes and chuckle. "So how was the meeting with Bucky? It felt pretty quick."

"That's because I may have figured something out," Steve hesitates. "I want you to know I'm already having everyone double check, triple check my idea but, I think I know who Dragonfly is."

That gets your attention. You set the ice cream to the side and sit up, gesturing for Steve to join you on the couch. He sits and pulls you into his lap.

"Do you remember the night we first met?"

"How could I forget?" you scoff. "Wait...what's his name? The guy who drugged Monica?"

"I think it's him."

"That would certainly explain why I was targeted."

"After he got caught, rumor has it Kent's men made an example of him. Left him permanently scarred and dropped to the bottom rung of the group. Used him as a courier. Serious cut to his income, among other things."

"And he got caught because of me," you whisper.

Steve nods. "And with Kent's estate in a kind of limbo, he can't afford to keep an eye on all of his underlings so Walker is taking advantage of the lack of oversight." You shudder at the thought of that man walking around freely and Steve holds you tight. "I promise I'll keep you and Jack safe. No matter the cost, you are my priority."

"Don't say that," you scold. "There is such a thing as too high a cost."

"Not for you and Jack," he asserts.

"I don't want to lose you," you argue. "I've made peace with the fact that your job is dangerous but this man isn't stable! Promise me you'll keep yourself safe as best you can! I know you don't always think before you act when I'm in trouble."

"Do you blame me? You're the best thing to ever happen to me. I'm allowed to go at least a little feral when it comes to protecting you."

"A little, maybe, but I need you to not rush into danger like a damn honey badger! We need you."

Steve deflates a little as he rubs your belly. You hate seeing his beautiful blue eyes so clouded but you're not backing down on this.

When he finally faces you he says, "I can't promise to not do anything stupid." You shrug and nod your acceptance of that. "But I promise I'll listen to the advice of others when it comes to getting this guy."

You hug your arms around his neck and bring him in for a kiss. "Thank you for that."

The next week is spent with focusing on the baby's arrival. It's coming up soon, just a few more weeks or so, and you're both relieved and scared.

It doesn't hurt that baby prep is also a good way to distract Steve. More than a few times Bucky and Sam have thanked you for keeping him busy so they can actually do their work and not have to worry about him personally following every lead. You're able to keep him distracted with setting up the nursery (he insists on painting and assembling everything himself) and with taking care of your physical needs. Ever since he learned how much it helps you to have him hold up your belly, alleviating a lot of the weight from your back, he's been willing to drop everything else to do it again.

For his part, Steve is also grateful for your distractions. Trying to keep his brain focused on all of the upcoming parties and meetings, your due date, security, not hunting down August himself, and more would likely leave him too frazzled to do anything. You help give him focus, directing his angry energy into productivity. He swears his admiration for you grows with each day.

He's in the middle of rearranging the nursery to your liking when Bucky knocks on the door frame, "we got the confirmation. August Walker is the guy behind the Dragonfly contract. Financials confirmed he'd wisely held onto his savings after his fall. Added to it hear and there. But then a huge chunk got spent. The amount is an exact match for the down payment on the contract."

"Do we know where he is?"

"Not yet," Bucky shakes his head. "But all soldiers have been notified that, unless he's in one of our legitimate businesses, he's shoot-on-sight. If he is in one of our legit shops, he's to be reported and either stalled or followed."

"Good call," you add. "Make sure Sam's side of things stays clean, doesn't get investigated."

"Exactly," Bucky gives you a thankful look. He knows Steve would prefer to just have the guy shot on sight. Having your backing will help temper Steve's response.

Steve grunts, "fine. Just make sure I'm kept informed of every sighting."

"Of course," he nods before heading out.

Stepping out of the rocking chair you go over and hold Steve from behind. "I'm proud of you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For not immediately storming out and burning down the city looking for him."

Steve grumbles, "only because you don't want me to."

"I can still be proud of you," you smile. "And I know you can feel little Jack moving around. He's proud of you, too."

That gets Steve to chuckle and you feel the tension in his body ease up a bit. He gently breaks your hold on him and turns around to embrace you.

"What more could I possibly ask for than my wife and child being proud of me?" he gently asks with a kiss.

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jamneuromain;

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @leryg0; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins;

@ronearoundblindly; @talesofadragon; @texmexdarling; @thiquefunlover63

[homestucktheresetau]

What is the Singularity? (1/2)

Rose and Jane's arc

These are pages of my post-canon AU [Homestuck: The Reset]. Look at my profile for more informations.

Some panels are just sketches because I am one person only :(

JANE: Roxy told me everything, but i need more informations. First of all, are you sure about what you're saying?

ROSE: Yes, I am. I haven't spoke to them in such long time, but...

JANE: The horrorterrors?

ROSE: Yes. Last time they spoke to me, I lost completely my mind. But yesterday was different.

ROSE: In a dream. I don't know how or why me; maybe because I went grimdark years ago or maybe because I'm a seer, but I was close to them, inside a black and white space surrounding us.

ROSE: They didn't tell me what to do, for once, they just told me what it was needed to know.

ROSE: Their words were unintelligible, yet I knew what they said, and when I woke up it took me a while to understand what I heard and what that means.

JANE: Do you now know what they meant? Are we going to die?

ROSE: ... I do know. No, we aren't going to die. But the life that formed after the game's end is.

JANE: What!?

ROSE: They're angry at us.

ROSE: Since we aren't in the game anymore, the Horrorterrors took another job entirely. Imagine them as a sort of anti-cheat code now that we won. They analyzed the strings of our games combined and came up with the idea that we cheated; probably by entering each other's sessions.

JANE: WHA-!? Ok, ok, if that's true, what is going to happen exactly? Do they want to punish us for "cheating"?

ROSE: Yes, they do, by making us restart the entire thing.

ROSE: The Black Hole expanding in our sky, the Singularity, will soon envelope the entirety of Earth C, if not the entire Universe, and bring us back in time, before our sessions met.

JANE: So it's different from the Scratch?

ROSE: Completely. As I said, the Singularity is an anti-cheat code, not a "panic button" like the Scratch.

JANE: Fuck... If that happens we'd lose everyone... I'd lose my children, I'd lose my house, my grandpa.

JANE: There is a way to stop it, right?

ROSE: All I know, or what at least I suppose, is that the Singularity has a centre. A weak point that aliments everything.

ROSE: If we let the Singularity expand enough, the exterior part will get thinner, therefore easier to penetrate and destroy the centre.

JANE: So we have to wait!? We have to prepare! We have to find weapons, or train our powers, we have to tell everyone and get their help-!

ROSE: Not everyone.

JANE: ?

ROSE: ... Despite my resistance to talk to you about this, and trust you more than my own wife; I am sure you're a safe person to talk to about this. But the same can't be said for everyone.

JANE: Is there someone collaborating with the horrorterrors? How?

ROSE: More like "taking advantage of".

ROSE: I'm not sure who is using or will use the Singularity's threat to their own advantage, all I can do is thinking through possibilities and probability. And right now it's very probable that, on Earth C, only me, you and Roxy know about the Singularity's intent.

JANE: Who would even use this as their own advantage!? Why would they!?

ROSE: I don't know the details, of course, but I have a sort of psychological profile in mind.

NEXT ==>

[lacewise]

The damage done by academics who don’t communicate with craftspeople because “they know better” cannot be overstated

[termagax]

re: "good girl" i think they say it once randomly as a joke and its just one of those things that gets him wayyy more than they expected it would. so now its their secret weapon and they use it very sparingly and every single time he gets super embarrassed about it but it works ill tell you what.

[brick-van-dyke]

My dad, jokingly: "I'm badman"

Me: "haha sure" (not thinking he's anything like batman)

My dad: *left/ separated from my mum when I was a teen, started a GTA gang that helps bullied kids, ended up emotionally adopting like 8 kids and helped them through bullying, suicide, abuse, etc.*

Me: *was hurt by an abuser and had to deal with said abuser being forgiven by family around me*

Me: *gets into Batman lore*

Me: ...

"Wait a second..."

[panspy]

hmmmmmm.................vent post under tags...... feel free to give advice or dont¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[ronanlynchbf]

hell day today and i'm only two hours into my EIGHT HOUR SHIFT

[t-u-i-t-c]

chapter xliv

[j-esbian]

it’s all good to say everyone should have public holidays off, but what about when you want to go to the movies on that holiday because now you don’t have to work? what if it’s presidents’ day and you need groceries? what if you need medical attention but it’s flag day? what if you need childcare, for any reason, on mlk day?

essential workers are some of the most overworked among us and deserve relief as much as anyone else but it’s just not enforceable for everyone to get every holiday off

[apothecareful]

telling nick about all the stupid things my coworkers and i do on the line to keep each other in a good mood is everything to me rn