#if you can decipher these doodles props to you

[bird-sovereign]

Doodle dump

—

Haven’t figured out needles from Magnus protocol yet so currently inspired by @/iclosedoors

[bigeggeaterjustsaying]

hi guys :) just some doodles i got myself to make alongside tiktok audios.. some words are in spanish, crappy spanish but still, props to you if you can decipher my handwriting + that

[thescarletmansion]

CHOICE >> WESTERN DOOR - THE STUDY

The door slides open, revealing another room. It is much smaller than the entrance hall they were originally standing in. Three times less the size, in fact. It was very compact in here.

This was some kind of STUDY.

North of the room was another door where they could travel through, should the need arise. The study was left untouched, for the most part as you can tell. It is properly lit, though with no window to be seen, but there strangely seemed to be a lit lantern on a little table closer to the top right corner of the room, which has some opened letters discarded there. Across from you at the entrance here were two tables -- one tucked into a corner and the other a larger desk with drawers.

On the little table there is a sachel. On the dusty desk, there is nothing, but years of accumulated grime. A shovel and bucket sit conspicuously next to the desk, propped up against the northern wall. Laid out underneath furniture, but atop the tatami, is an entirely intact carpet. There is a scrap of paper of some kind in the middle of the floor.

MAP UPDATE!

ADDITIONAL ACTIONS:

Red attempted to see if he could taste what was hinted at in the photo, but could not taste, smell nor feel anything there. Nothing stuck to the tongue that he could discern.

Matsuba decided to attempt to find a trace of Lady Yuri's whereabouts just as Wesker had opened the door to the western part of the mansion. This power would manifest a trace of the person he was attempting to follow in the form of a 'string' only he could see. Yuri always challenged him to hide-and-seek as children, but never understood why he always managed to find her. This was how. Her string was as silvery as her hair and very distinct, however....it seemed like the floor was covered in various strings all tangled up like a messy child's doodle. It'd take forever to untangle this mess and decipher where she had been to find the end. It would seem she had been frantically moving all over the place.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

anthrorry and austen when she has assigned to read. omg like can i imagine she’s read and hes grading papers i’m :(

He’d prop his portfolio booklet across her backside while he’s grading papers, scribbling across the assignments thoughtfully while she lays across his lap with her computer, scrolling through her readings and typing up any important notes she wants to highlight. A comfortable silence suspends the air as they both tend to their individual work, and though they’re too occupied to openly engage with one another, having each other’s presences there is all the comfort they need. Every now and then, Harry will reach over and squeeze the back of her thigh gently to let her know he appreciates her company, and she’ll respond by lifting her hips slightly to back up against his palm, wordlessly returning the tender sentiment. That’s all the interaction they need; everything else is written in between the lines.

When Harry finally decides to take a much-needed break, he flips his folder closed with a decisive thud, sighing tiredly through his nose as he rubs at his eyes underneath his bulky frames. He glances over at where Y/N is currently typing up bullet points for the latest chapter she’s reading, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he hears her humming to herself distractedly while her fingers clack across the keys at a rhythmic pace. An idea suddenly dawns on him, and he clicks his retired red pen back into action, stretching forward and doodling a small smiley face across the sliver of her skin peeking out from underneath the oversized tee she’s sporting, where her leg curves into the swell of her ass. It’s stupid and random, but it also looks cute, and he knows she’ll like the innocent meaninglessness of it all.

The feathery sensation is enough to garner Y/N’s full attention, and she glimpses back at him over her shoulder with curiosity perched across her brows. He takes it upon himself to coast the hem of her shirt up her hips so she can get a better view of his artwork, a goofy grin plastering itself across his dimples as he eagerly awaits her judgment. When Y/N spots the drawing, she lets out an amused snort, rolling her eyes playfully as she slowly closes her laptop for the time being, choosing to indulge a mental break right along with him. “You should’ve majored in art. You’d have your work hung up in museums, instead of teaching at them.”

“Mm. I decided to let everyone else have a chance at becoming the next Picasso. I’m just that humble and kind.”

“Oh, absolutely.” She quips sarcastically, tapping her nails against the frosted aluminum cover of her computer. “You’re the most grounded person I know.”

Harry presses one of his hands over his heart, pouting dramatically and pretending to sniffle. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. Makes me all warm and gooey inside.”

He realizes his mistake too late. By the time he deciphers just how childishly condemning his statement is, her joke is already slipping down her tongue with a tone of smug immaturity. “I’d rather you make me all warm and gooey inside, but I guess it’ll have to wait.”

“That was fucking disgusting. You’re vile.”

“I know.”

“I hated it.”

“You loved it.”

“I tolerated it.”

“If you want to kiss me, just say that.”

[krisdreaming]

I queued this up to keep things interesting while I wait for some new request to come in. This is another drabble I shamelessly ripped from myself.

Request: a soulmate!au first meeting with oikawa and his s/o where the name of your soulmate is written om your wrist please! do write it in second point of view :>

--

You absently trace the name on your wrist as has become your habit. Oikawa Tooru. Aside from your own, it’s the name you know best, printed in a firm, slightly messy script right above your pulse. You know how it feels on your tongue, what it looks like doodled in the margins of your notes, and how it sounds coupled with yours. The one thing you don’t know is the person it belongs to, and even though you’ve told yourself countless times that you’re content to wait until the time is right, you lay awake at night wondering whether his eyes are blue or brown, if he’s tall or short, smart or athletic, or if his smile is kind. You look in the mirror and wonder what he’ll think of you.

○○○

“Oh my God.” You’re taken aback when a hand catches your wrist, holding it in place. The voice belongs to a spiky haired boy who quickly drops your hand at the look of shock that must have crossed your face. Your eyes widen as you take in the dark eyes and tanned features, asking yourself if this is finally, finally the moment you’ve been waiting for. Asking yourself if this is truly a person you can love for the rest of your life. You pull your wrist protectively against your chest, and he takes a step back, face flushing deeply as he mutters profuse apologies.

“I’m sorry.” He bows deeply. “I just saw the name on your wrist, and I was so surprised that I - Oikawa is my best friend.” The breath you’d been holding in escapes in a rush. You’re surprised to feel relief.

“Oh.” You murmur airily. What more is there to say? Your heart leaps in your chest all over again.

“I’ll take you to him.” You’d just been on your way home, only stopping to help said boy pick up a sheath of papers that had fluttered across the ground. You’d been handing him the ones you’d collected when he’d grabbed your wrist, and everything since then had passed in a blur. “Um. If you want?” He tacks the question on hastily.

“Sure. Yes. Please.” You’re fumbling for words now, but he himself seems too flustered to notice, merely motioning for you to follow him. You do, legs quivering, until you arrive at the doors of the volleyball gymnasium. Hmm. Athletic it is.

“Oikawa!” Your companion barks through the doors, propped open to let in the spring breezes.

“Iwa-chan?” A tousled head of brown hair perks up at the sound and with a single motion from his friend he’s jogging your way, closer and closer. You gulp back the shivery feeling that’s crawling up your throat. You notice things in flashes. Warm brown eyes. Tall. An undeniably handsome face, currently crinkled in a cross between mild confusion and something you can’t quite decipher. “What’s up?” He leans against the door frame and ‘Iwa-chan’ wordlessly grabs your wrist again as he reaches for Oikawa’s, holding them side by side and watching as two sets of eyes blow wide. His mouth opens and closes wordlessly as his gaze seeks out yours, and you’re not sure if the smile you’ve been trying to muster has actually made its way to your lips.

“It’s you.” Calloused fingers wrap around yours suddenly, a single fingertip tracing over his name on your wrist in awe as he murmurs your name. On his lips, it sounds somehow different than you’ve ever heard it before. It sounds like something you wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of your life.

“It’s you.” You parrot back dumbly, unable to formulate words of your own. “I - this is incredible.” This time your eyes meet his almost nervously, unable to help wondering if there’s any possibility that he likes what he sees.

“I can’t believe this.” He murmurs, eyes seeming to drink in every bit of you. “You’re perfect.” You’d answer likewise, but suddenly your tongue has turned to cotton in your mouth and all you can do is beam at him.

“Ah, yeah. I’ll just leave you two alone.” ‘Iwa-chan’ slips into the gym, but neither of you pay him much mind. Now Oikawa’s got both of your hands gripped tight in his. His smile seems to fill parts of you that you hadn’t even known were empty, and you can’t help the nervous excitement that bubbles up in your middle at the thought of the adventure that awaits you.

[plumoh]

all pain, all smiles, became a magnificent tale (1)

Word count: 5580

Summary: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are both too aware of their feelings, but it is never the right time. / CQL 'verse

Note: AO3 link. Canon compliant, retelling of CQL with huge pining from the start. Elements like controlling corpses will be taken from the novel/donghua but the timeline and characterization are all CQL.

01.

The rumors and stories about the Twin Jades being as beautiful as the moon and as graceful as the wind didn't lie. The concept of beauty is one that Wei Wuxian understands on all levels—if something is pretty, then why not appreciate it and say it out loud? Compliments also have the benefit of making people happy.

Most people, anyway.

“Second Master Lan, you're really incredible!” he laughs. “Handsome and skilled? So many girls would swoon if they had a glimpse of such an amazing sight.”

Lan Wangji's grip on his sword tightens and his gaze seems to convey all the contempt towards Wei Wuxian that is currently boiling in his blood, and it doesn't stray away from the jar of Emperor's Smile that Wei Wuxian is protectively keeping against his side. It's almost comical, to see two people standing on a rooftop well after curfew, in such a strict and rule-abiding place like the Cloud Recesses; Wei Wuxian just set foot inside today and he already feels it will be a long year.

He props up his leg and carelessly uncaps the jar, sporting an amused smile.

“But once they realize how cold and inflexible you are, they'd run away!”

He takes a long sip of the alcohol, suddenly feeling extremely entertained by Lan Wangji's quiet outrage. It's kind of impressive Lan Wangji can say so much with his eyes alone—never mind silencing people with a spell, his gaze does the job perfectly. Wei Wuxian has seen different shapes of eyes in the past, but even if Lan Wangji's are small, there is an intensity in those clear and gorgeous eyes that makes him unable to look away. He could give orders or convey an entire message with one look.

Wei Wuxian tilts his head, playing with his jar of alcohol and jostling its content. “That's right, you're unreasonable and rigid, but it doesn't matter. Once I return to Yunmeng—mhh?!”

As Wei Wuxian chases after him to cancel the spell, he believes that Lan Wangji really needs to do something about his awful personality.

02.

Jiang Cheng tells him that he's ridiculous and stupid for wanting to catch Lan Wangji's attention whenever he sees him, but in all honesty, if Lan Wangji truly hated him, would he still respond to his calls?

“Ji-xiong!”

Wei Wuxian enthusiastically waves his hands, never missing the way Lan Wangji's face closes at his sight, like an invisible spirit forcefully makes him narrow his eyes and exude an untouchable aura. It's kind of cool, actually.

“Do you want to get punished or what?” Jiang Cheng hisses, pinching his side, while Nie Huaisang attempts to conceal his entire body behind his fan.

Wei Wuxian keeps smiling and waving, until Lan Wangji turns on his heels and ignores him, once again. The white robes are fluttering in the wind and his silhouette is as graceful as always, although his steps seem to be a bit stiffer. Must have been slightly more irritated than usual.

It's really, really fun.

03.

He wouldn't say there is a spark, or an explosion of stars, but he does feel something pleasant settling in his stomach when Suibian clashes with Bichen as he carefully moves on the cliff. He didn't realize who he was fighting at the beginning, but once he took in the immaculate robes and the impassive face his lips curl upwards in a mischievous grin.

“Ji-xiong, that's you! Wow, you really are skilled.”

He quickly unsheathes Suibian, gaze still trained on Lan Wangji's that stares down at him like he said the most absurd thing in existence. He's used to it, now, so it doesn't dampen his mood, it even lifts his spirits a little bit (it's always a delight to see the Second Jade, despite his ignoring). Wei Wuxian takes his time to admire the fine and delicate traits on Lan Wangji's face, which he probably will never tire of; he thinks about the stories and the female disciples gossiping, and he chuckles at the thought he's possibly the only one who gets to see him so up close. The waterfall and the green of the trees frame this face gently, making him look like a painting.

“I'm telling you a secret,” Wei Wuxian whispers, taking careful steps towards the other man. “I'm not the only one who wanders in the back of the Cloud Recesses, do you think it has anything to do with the spiritual consciousness stealing—hey!”

For someone so proper Lan Wangji doesn't hold back as he grabs Wei Wuxian's wrist and drags him all the way to the Library Pavilion, deaf to his burden's whines and complains that can be heard all over the Cloud Recesses.

Spending so much time in his company would have killed anyone of boredom, but Wei Wuxian managed to distract himself from his punishment by staring at Lan Wangji. In-between two lines of copying he looks up and stares at his companion, who sits still like a statue, diligently learning from books he's probably already read. Wei Wuxian ends up doodling rabbits, jars of alcohol and clouds in the corners of his papers, then decides it would be a waste not to exploit the infinite source of inspiration standing right in front of him.

Lan Wangji doesn't react at the portrait of himself.

“Come on, you must have something to say except for ‘boring’ and ‘pathetic’. Lan Wangji? Ji-xiong? Wangji-xiong?” And then, overtaken by sudden bravery, “Lan Zhan!”

Hearing his birth name shouted so casually draws a whole new expression on his face that Wei Wuxian can't decipher. He frowns.

“You didn't answer when I called you Wangji, so I called you Lan Zhan. You can call me Wei Ying if you want.”

He offers him his biggest grin for good measure, gleefully basking in the Second Jade's disbelief at such boldness.

Thinking back, he was already spending too much energy and time to commit to memory someone that was only supposed to be entertainment.

04.

“Lan Zhan, give me back my alcohol!”

So maybe he shouldn't prance around and being noisy with a jar of alcohol in hands, which break three of Gusu Lan's rules, but they're not in the Cloud Recesses and he is only trying to help a case during a nighthunt. What's wrong with speculating and attempting to dig up clues in the wildest theories? Discoveries are made because people are curious; Wei Wuxian would be very much surprised if none of his ideas turns out to be right. And in any case, Lan Zhan had no right to dump his alcohol!

He chases after him, ignoring Jiang Cheng's yells, and grabs Lan Zhan's shoulder. There are many cultivators trailing behind them, but Lan Zhan doesn't seem to care since he stops dead in his tracks and turns his head without uttering a word, like a warning. Wei Wuxian presses his lips together and slowly releases his shoulder, the loss of contact freezing his body with disappointment.

“Lan Zhan, why are you looking at me like this? You look more mad than me, and you dumped my alcohol. I should be the one feeling wronged.”

“I dislike physical contact,” Lan Zhan states firmly. “Stop fooling around. We are on a nighthunt.”

“Yes, yes, Second Master Lan, so professional...”

Lan Zhan sends him one last glare before walking away, and Wei Wuxian is left staring at his back, wondering why talking to Lan Zhan feels as frustrating as exciting. A voice sounding suspiciously like Jiang Cheng tells him that he's stupid.

“You're stupid or what? Stop bothering him.” Jiang Cheng snorts next to him, and Wei Wuxian groans.

“I wasn't even doing anything!”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes and urges him to follow the Twin Jades.

05.

When Lan Zhan lands on his boat, he expects a reprimand, but he simply gets an inquisitive look, albeit mildly annoyed.

“I didn't splash you on purpose, those ghouls are smart so I had to find something not to alert them. Are you recognizing I'm not completely useless?” Wei Wuxian asks with a smirk, delighted by Lan Zhan's lack of criticism.

Confident and reinvigorated after showing he's at least half serious about this case, Wei Wuxian takes a few steps forward and peers at Lan Zhan's face, smiling at his reddened ears and his inability to look him in the eyes.

“Stay away,” Lan Zhan snaps, gaze fixed on the water.

Wei Wuxian pouts but complies, seeing that he won't get much entertainment if Lan Zhan is focused on fulfilling this mission, especially with the other cultivators and their brothers around.

They take care of the waterborne abyss easily enough, if Wei Wuxian doesn't take into account their almost death. He would have much preferred being grabbed by the arm instead of his collar, but that's asking too much from someone who stated only minutes ago that touching people is absolutely out of the question.

“We're already so close, touching even my arm wouldn't be too bad, right?”

“We are not close.”

These words, more than anything, drive a knife into Wei Wuxian's guts. Lan Zhan's tone hasn't shifted from his usual monotone one, but his clipped words and adamant refusal to so much as look at Wei Wuxian, even as they're speaking, unload a new uncertainty in his mind.

On the way back to the Cloud Recesses, after offering loquats and failing at making Lan Zhan look at him again, he comes to the realization that when he does get Lan Zhan's attention, it brings him immense joy.

06.

“Lan Zhan, your forehead ribbon is crooked.”

Wei Wuxian's thoughts flicker for the briefest moment, imagining Lan Zhan's wife tying the ribbon around his head every morning, as ridiculous as it is. That rule of Gusu Lan sect is among the most bemusing ones, dictating a way of living that seems pretty extreme. Can a simple piece of cloth be that important to someone? Wei Wuxian discards the knowledge altogether (like most of the other rules he's copied) when the conversation turns to the topic of family. In that instant, he feels there is a special understanding that passes between them; there is a longing and sadness that Wei Wuxian has long tucked in a corner of his mind, far away from the thoughts that make him go through the day as seamlessly as possible.

Wei Wuxian has the fleeting suspicion that maybe, Lan Zhan doesn't like showing his emotions because there are too many of them inside his heart. It took a few weeks and a cup of alcohol to start unearthing the mystery that is the Second Jade, who looks as vulnerable as anyone else in his current drunkenness. His carved beauty remains, but he looks less unattainable. Wei Wuxian smiles, a sudden warmth spreading in his body as he lifts his jar of Emperor's Smile.

“A toast to us, who found companionship in unexpected misfortune. Let's drink while we still can, alright?”

He downs the jar in one go, knowing full well they won't share another drink together.

07.

Wei Wuxian's respect for Lan Zhan shoots up when he realizes he's taking the punishment without the slightest twitch, but it also confirms that he is a madman.

“Who willingly gets punished like that?”

Lan Zhan barely acknowledges his presence, focused on the rulers that beat and cut into his back. It's surprising Wei Wuxian doesn't forget his own pain while staring at Lan Zhan's impassive face that is almost a model to follow.

“The Cold Spring will relieve your pain,” Zewu-jun says when he meets him, a soft but knowing smile on his face.

Wei Wuxian has no idea why Zewu-jun is showing so much kindness towards him, but he won't refuse help. Even if Shijie tells him to take it easy, he runs as fast as he can despite of the stinging to the Cold Spring. He absolutely doesn't expect the person already inside the water, back turned to him with his hair spread at the surface. Wei Wuxian pushes down the astonishment and the onslaught of eagerness that pools in his stomach, blinking once then twice before leaning against a bamboo tree and grinning.

“Lan Zhan, were you going to keep this place all to yourself?”

Lan Zhan doesn't startle, but it's a near thing as he hastily pulls on his robes, unconcerned about making them wet, then glares at Wei Wuxian.

“Do not come closer,” he hisses.

The events in Caiyi city with their hurting words are all but forgotten, even if the similar situation plants a seed of doubt for a second before going away. However, Lan Zhan should know by now that Wei Wuxian doesn't follow orders, and finds pleasure in doing the opposite of what he's told—and even more so when it involves Lan Zhan.

“Come on, I told you we're already so close, why are you so distant?”

Wei Wuxian proceeds to take off his boots and gets into the spring, shivering at its low temperature, and makes his way towards Lan Zhan. He never stops grinning, feeling he shouldn’t think too much about the situation, and his amusement increases tenfold as he notices the tips of Lan Zhan's ears reddening (it's quite an occurrence, certainly because he's unused to physical proximity, and that's kind of adorable).

“Admittedly you're harsh and sometimes boring, but we've sparred and we're evenly matched, so I honestly think we can become friends!” Wei Wuxian extends Suibian, remembering that Lan Zhan dislikes touching people. “I mean, that's the first step of any relationship, right?”

There is something incredibly wild in Lan Zhan's gaze when he looks at him, like he's trying to discover what sort of nonsense is hiding behind his words. It's not the disdain and wariness that usually underlie his unspoken words, it's more disbelieving and, if Wei Wuxian reads it right, with a tinge of fear. He blinks, then tilts his head.

“I know you don't really like me, but becoming my friend can't be that bad? Lan Zhan, you're hurting my feelings!”

He lowers Suibian and crosses his arms over his chest, wondering. Lan Zhan is clearly lost in thoughts if he isn't reacting to his teasing, which shouldn't be as concerning as Wei Wuxian feels it is.

“Look, if you become my friend...I will pick lotus seeds for you when you come to Yunmeng!” He gets closer to Lan Zhan, who surprisingly doesn't step away and simply eyes him with his unchanging attentive gaze. “Yunmeng is fun, we have a lot of food, and rivers to cross. Come visit!”

“I will not go,” Lan Zhan finally replies.

Wei Wuxian sucks in a breath. “Fine, killjoy. I'll eat lotus seeds on a boat all by my lonesome.”

He tries not to think too much about this rejection since he should have anticipated the cold answer, but it still stings. He's just trying to be nice. He huffs, and deciding that he should as well enjoy the spring, he starts fiddling with his robes to shrug them off. This mere action calls for Lan Zhan's fastest reaction so far, eyes wide.

“What are you doing?!”

“Taking off my clothes to heal, obviously.” Wei Wuxian smiles, laughing at Lan Zhan's scandalized face. “What, is undressing in front of other people forbidden too?”

Perhaps he's said the wrong thing again, because Lan Zhan seems determined to leave the spring, and Wei Wuxian backtracks immediately.

“Wait, wait, don't leave! I'm keeping my clothes on, okay?”

Lan Zhan stands a few feet away from him, and if he wasn't so stiff and upright, Wei Wuxian wouldn't have noticed the way his fists are trembling, clasped behind his back. Is he really that upset about the situation?

Wei Wuxian doesn't have the time to ponder on the question as a burst of a strange energy hits him. He surveys his surroundings, eyes narrowed; something is clearly off but he can't pinpoint its origin.

“Lan Zhan, there's something strange here.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he gets dragged underwater.

08.

Whoever invented such a complex and ingenious spell that recognizes specific people based on an item is admirable but also extremely bothersome in their current predicament.

Swallowing water and spending the next minutes sputtering isn’t fun, dodging the attacks of an ancient guqin is even less so. Wei Wuxian is ready to do anything to get out of this cave alive and unscattered, but when he yells for Lan Zhan’s forehead ribbon, he truly didn’t expect Lan Zhan to comply to his order without a word.

It’s absolutely astounding. He stares at the ribbon that’s binding them together like it’s a foreign object, then lifts his gaze to meet Lan Zhan’s. Wei Wuxian has an inkling of what makes his heart so light yet so heavy, having Lan Zhan willingly stand so close to him when he vehemently objected to it earlier. It’s maddening to keep these feelings at bay, letting them take a form of their own without the means to control or even understand them.

He did not mean to stare, but Lan Zhan quickly averts his eyes and tugs him forward. Wei Wuxian follows silently, the lull of the water the only sound his ears are registering. It feels inexplicably intimate to simply have a strip of cloth tying their wrists together, considering how attached the Lan family is to the ribbon. He doesn’t dare saying anything for fear of breaking whatever spell they’re currently under.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets his actions speak for himself, as usual. He gets scolded for wanting to approach the sacred guqin, is glared at for misbehaving, and suddenly he’s breathing easier, gradually forgetting what he was so agitated about in the first place.

The oath they pledge to stop evil from spreading makes his core vibrate with anticipation and his heart sing.

08.5.

His entire body is set aflame when there is contact of skin against skin, his face mere centimeters away from Lan Zhan’s, and he tries to contain his shock and bubbling panic by laughing, even if it sounds awkward to his ears.

“You can’t say we’re not close, after that.”

“Get off me.”

The arrival of Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing, staring at them in disbelief, also prompts Wei Wuxian to scramble up with energy before he further digs his own grave. He quickly unties the ribbon, not paying attention to the stillness of Lan Zhan’s hand or the way everyone is looking at him. It’s a miracle he can string two sentences together to explain what happened with his heartbeat thundering and the distinct sensation of Lan Zhan boring holes in his neck, but when he looks at his face, somehow he finds less anger than expected. In the crease of Lan Zhan’s eyebrows and his lips pressed downward, he finds instead an uneasiness that is almost painful to look at; and in these clear eyes, Wei Wuxian doesn’t let himself see hope.

09.

“It seems that the events in Caiyi and the spiritual consciousness stealing are related after all, Wangji.”

It’s becoming harder to hide his excitement whenever Lan Zhan says or does something surprising, and in this case, Wei Wuxian thinks it deserves a proper reaction.

“You told Zewu-jun about my theories? You really are my confidant, huh?”

From the corner of his eye he notices Lan Xichen smiling at his comment, and he could have chosen to pretend he didn’t, but it’s such a rare opportunity to shamelessly tease Lan Zhan for something that’s not out of Wei Wuxian’s imagination. It fills him with so much joy and satisfaction to know he has at least his trust.

“I’m sure we can solve great mysteries together,” he offers pleasantly. “You don’t even need to talk, we understand each other already pretty well! And we seem to both value righteousness a lot, considering what we said to Ancestor Lan Yi. Aren’t we a perfect match?”

He nudges Lan Zhan in the side with his elbow, grinning from ear to ear. Nothing he said is false, which is all the more exhilarating. He might be cheesy, but he sincerely thinks there is a connection he can form with that boy that doesn’t speak more than four words to him but still puts up with his antics and listens to what he says, however relevant or stupid the topic is. Calling him a confidant is well-deserved and shows just how much effort Wei Wuxian is willing to put in this bond—it’s well-deserved but it feels more than that.

“Do not be ridiculous,” Lan Zhan mutters, turning his head his way but not meeting his eyes. “This Yin iron issue is not to be trivialized.”

“I’m not trivializing it! I mean it, we’d work well together, and our cultivation level is similar. You should be honored to be offered this chance to work with the great Wei Wuxian!”

Wei Wuxian hits his chest once with the hand holding Suibian, an easy smile accompanying his words that are immediately met with the usual unimpressed stare. Given the lack of rebuttal, in the Second Jade’s language, it’s a positive response.

“Focus,” he simply says.

Wei Wuxian’s heart soars.

09.5.

“A-Xian, you are good friends with the Second Master Lan.”

Wei Wuxian coughs. “Do you think so? It’s not like he often talks to me.”

Jiang Yanli’s smile could make flowers bloom with how gentle it is. “That’s true, but the two of you seem to understand each other better than most. It has only been a few months and you know him very well, it’s rare for people to be so close in a short time.” She squeezes his arm, still as soothing as always. “Treasure this kind of encounters and relationships.”

Wei Wuxian has no idea how to react to his shijie’s words, but they lift his spirits considerably.

10.

“Is this some kind of tradition?”

“I guess so, the other Lan disciples were saying it helps us keeping our mind stable. You’re making a promise to yourself or something.”

“So it’s just a simple wish, then?”

Jiang Cheng shrugs, not that much interested in the specifics of the release of the lantern, and Wei Wuxian isn’t surprised; being the Jiang sect heir has drilled him into thinking ahead long ago, and to always pursue the goals he’s set for himself. Securing the future and protecting the sect—that’s what he ought to do, and what he wishes for, with no need to verbalize it.

Wei Wuxian wishes for something else. There is no doubt he wishes for the prosperity of the sect that took him in, but there is another wish that lies under it, stronger but quieter. He hums to himself as they climb the hill where they are to gather, his lips curled upwards as giddiness fuels every one of his step.

As soon as he has all the materials needed in hand, he leaves Jiang Cheng’s side and drops everything next to Lan Zhan’s. He gets comfortable and starts working on his lantern, ignoring the way his companion is looking at him with most certainly confusion, even if it doesn’t show on his face.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, do you often make lanterns like this? With Jiang Cheng and Shijie we like to make them during festivals, and we let the disciples decide which one between mine and Jiang Cheng’s is the best. Guess who always wins!”

He doesn’t actually expect a reply to his question, he’s only filling the silence like he always does whenever he’s with Lan Zhan. His presence makes him warm and more eager to share whatever thought is crossing his mind, as if filters don’t exist and he’s free to rveal every aspect of his personality. He can literally hear Jiang Cheng’s disapproval.

Wei Wuxian is happy, when he is with Lan Zhan.

The Second Jade ever so slightly glances his way, hands poised on his own lantern tracing delicate characters. His shoulders aren’t tense and he seems content, like he’s really enjoying his time despite the noise surrounding them.

“I would not know,” he says plainly.

“That was a rhetorical question, of course I’m the best!” Wei Wuxian laughs, and finally lifts his head to look at Lan Zhan’s face.

His heart skips a beat when he finds clear eyes directly looking at his. But the moment vanishes as if it didn’t occur and Lan Zhan resumes his writing, a flush spreading over his cheeks and ears, which is completely unexpected and Wei Wuxian feels his own face heat up at this sight. The implication behind what just transpired would have gone unnoticed to his admittedly blind eyes were it not for the fact he’s already entertained some ideas of his own feelings for a while, now.

It’s scary, to think about the what-ifs and the would-bes, though he feels there is a right time for everything. There always is.

With renewed vigor and satisfaction, he keeps painting his lantern, every one of his strokes assured and precise, aiming at pleasing.

“Look Lan Zhan, I drew rabbits for you.”

Lan Zhan has been steadily more willing to look at whatever Wei Wuxian is pointing at without being coerced into it (he has been observing). And it’s only because Wei Wuxian is on the lookout for any changes that he catches the shift of his expressions so easily.

“You smiled!” he exclaims gleefully, leaning forward to get a good look at this smile.

Lan Zhan’s expression immediately schools back into one of indifference, although his eyes are still telling another story.

“Ridiculous.”

Wei Wuxian grins. “Don’t be like that, I know you like it!” And with a burst of adrenaline and impulsiveness, he says: “Since we risked our lives together, let’s release the lantern together.”

Oh, he knows what people are saying; they’re impatiently waiting for Shijie and Jin Zixuan to release their lantern as a sign of love, the gesture seen as one of the most romantic to exist. Wei Wuxian doesn’t care about the peacock and the so-called romanticism, but he does admit that touching the lantern and letting it fly up, with someone, renders their wish more concrete, more valued; a silent witness to this private moment.

To say that Lan Zhan is shocked would be an understatement, and it would have been amusing if the situation was a bit less intimate.

“Never mind, I was joking,” Wei Wuxian backtracks, averting his eyes.

“No. I will do it.”

Lan Zhan reaches for the lantern, careful not to wrinkle it, and when their eyes meet Wei Wuxian thinks he’s found a whole new purpose in life. There is unparalleled determination and fervor, naked and genuine, unable to deceive whoever getting a glimpse of them. It’s beautiful.

The curve of his lips is gentle. “Okay.”

The world is reduced to the two of them, working on the lantern without a word. Wei Wuxian sometimes glances in Lan Zhan’s direction and is delighted to see how at ease he seems in his company; there is tranquillity that calms his mind and brings him comfort. Wei Wuxian can’t afford to voice his thoughts about the warmth and the elation that pool in his stomach, but he can still accept them and decide what to do later, when the right time comes.

He misses every look Lan Zhan casts him.

Wei Wuxian lights the fire, fingers firmly grasping the edge of the lantern. Their hands aren’t touching but Wei Wuxian feels his fingertips ever so slightly get warmer as they wait for everyone to get ready. He shows none of his turmoil as he brightly smiles at Lan Zhan, who oddly contemplates their work, something akin to satisfaction written on his face.

“Looks like we can really accomplish something when we do it together, doesn’t it?”

Lan Zhan looks up, gaze fixed on Wei Wuxian, but doesn’t answer. There is no small nod or word of acknowledgment, but the way he gets a better grip on the lantern is enough for Wei Wuxian.

They release it in the sky. A white dot joining many others, soon to be lost in the vast and infinite blue. Wei Wuxian’s gaze follows the lantern drifting away; he has been part of many events and has produced many lanterns, but this one irrevocably stirs something deep inside him. He’s choking on a wish that’s as much as a promise. He clasps his hands together and closes his eyes.

“I, Wei Wuxian, wish to stand by justice and righteousness. I wish to live a life free of regrets with a clear conscience.”

A full life—that’s what he wishes for most ardently, and he will endeavor to live by it. When he opens his eyes and turns his head, Lan Zhan is looking at him with a complicated face, like he is unsure he’s allowed to show vulnerability in front of others. Wei Wuxian’s heart swells at the sight, and he softly smiles.

“The words were hard to find, but I think I did good,” he jokes.

Wei Wuxian knocks his shoulder against Lan Zhan’s without thinking, remembering too late about his dislike of physical contact, but he doesn’t get rebuked or shoved away. He blinks at Lan Zhan, and when he opens his mouth to apologize, Lan Zhan looks up.

“I, Lan Wangji, wish to stand by justice and righteousness. I wish to live a life free of regrets with a clear conscience.”

He turns his attention back on Wei Wuxian, who stares at him in wonder. It’s startling and unexpected, but absolutely not unpleasing; words have such a way to don devotion once they are pronounced by someone cherished. Wei Wuxian can’t help but laugh, shaking his head.

“You never cease to amaze me, Lan Zhan. I’m happy to hear you approve of my wish.”

Lan Zhan offers a nod. “You know what you want, Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian pauses, chewing on his lips. He gazes at the sky while he gathers his thoughts, surprised by how unprepared he was to that statement. He lets out a chuckle, nervous on its edges but cheerful enough to be convincing.

“Yeah, it’s important to know what we want.”

He wants a lot of things—becoming strong, eating delicious food and drinking exquisite alcohol—and some of them require effort and perseverance to be obtained. He won’t disappoint as the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang sect; he won’t let injustice dictate his actions.

Wanting Lan Zhan’s attention and wanting something else completely from him aren’t under his control. So he keeps smiling, under Lan Zhan’s observant eyes.

“Some things are just harder to get, you know?”

“Mn. I suppose so.”

Wei Wuxian swallows the thickness in his throat as he hears familiar longing in this deep voice, but his eyes never betray and he doesn’t know what Lan Zhan sees when he looks at them. Something unrestrained flashes on Lan Zhan’s face and hope flares again in Wei Wuxian’s heart.

11.

It’s cute and almost a relief when Lan Zhan stops by and attempts to comfort him when he’s not feeling bad at all. Jin Zixuan only reaped what he sowed and Wei Wuxian would have liked to land another punch or two to make sure the message got across.

“You are ridiculous,” Lan Zhan scolds him when he sees the ants Wei Wuxian is observing on a stick.

“Yes, yes, I’m ridiculous,” Wei Wuxian chuckles, waving the stick around. “Wait Lan Zhan, don’t leave, don’t leave!”

Lan Zhan aborts his step when he’s called, looking quite flustered after his display of hidden concern, but Wei Wuxian is for once sparing him of his teasing as he stands up. The reprimand immediately comes.

“You should be kneeling.”

“I know, but I don’t fancy kneeling in front of a rock when I want to talk to you,” Wei Wuxian explains with a smile.

Lan Zhan’s eyes are beautiful. He’s described as cold and unwavering, indifferent to everything happening around him, but this is clearly wrong. He might not be as expressive as most, but his eyes are the window of his soul, and right now Wei Wuxian is certain they are softening, just like when he saw the rabbits on the lantern. It’s subtle, it’s quick, but Wei Wuxian still noticed it.

“Thank you for releasing the lantern with me,” he says warmly. “That means a lot to me. Really.”

He doesn’t feel much embarrassment for saying it out loud, but it does tickle his stomach and make his face burn, just a little, and seeing as Lan Zhan is pressing his lips together he probably caught the sincerity of the words.

“There is no need to thank me.” He pauses, slightly shaking his head. “It is what I wanted.”

Wei Wuxian beams. “I’m glad.”

“Try not to be too reckless next time.”

“Ha, no promises this time!”

There is a sliver of exasperation on Lan Zhan’s face, though he doesn’t pick up on Wei Wuxian’s comment and simply walks away, most likely not wishing to be seen conversing with someone who is supposed to think over his actions. It’s already quite a feat they exchanged so many words in such a short time.

Wei Wuxian kneels again, a grin on his face playing with the ants until Uncle Jiang arrives and discusses with Lan Qiren and Jin Guangshan.

[chokefriends]

Pit-town Strays Ch.3

Kidlaw softness and redneck shenanigans in a northern mining town. Everything’s fucked but whatever.

Rated T, no warnings. 

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - [Ch. 3] - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5

Read on Ao3 too, I’m Ossicle

The next morning was a comfortable jumble—coffee, laundry, and UFO ‘documentaries’ playing in the background on the big tv. Kidd thudded around in his boxers, yelling at Nami to put some actual clothes on for once, and burning toast in the oven.

“If your toaster wasn't being a radio, you might get toast out of it,” Law pointed out.

“Ah fuck that. I got a laptop with a broken fan that runs hot enough to burn the table… I can probably rig that up and it'll work. Hm.”

Law shook his head. “Whatever. Towels? I'm gonna shower.”

Kidd waved a hand as he dug around in a kitchen drawer full of tools. “Use whatever one, they're all pretty clean.”

Law found the stack of clean towels, and locked himself in the bathroom before going about his usual, highly involved routine. It wasn't like either of these tar-pit kids cared if his nails were trimmed or stuff like that, but he liked feeling put-together in the details, even if he'd slept in his clothes and had kind of a hangover.

He got out of the shower to find Nami sitting on the counter, chewing a toothbrush.

“Nami! The door was locked!” He hid behind the shower curtain and grabbed his towel.

“Yah.”

“That means don't come in!” he emerged with a towel around him and tried to shoo her out.

“What is it that?” She pointed at his skin.

“Tattoos.”

“Tattoos are hurt?”

“No, they're fine. Out.” He picked her up and set her outside the bathroom door, then closed it.

“My toothbrUSH!” she screeched.

Law cracked the door enough to stick the toothbrush out, then closed, locked and latched it. But the doorknob fucking rattled again like two minutes later.

“Nami, WHAT,” Law shouted, then scrambled to hide when Kidd responded.

“Nami says she needs Band-Aids! I dunno what for, but...”

“There's some on top of the fridge! Go get those!”

“What? No there's not.” The doorknob rattled again.

“Yes there is! Fuck off, I'm fucking half dressed!” Law called from behind the shower curtain.

“Oh, I don't mind—”

“I do!! Just go look on the fridge and let me dress!”

“...taking all fucking day in there…” Heavy footsteps went off the hall.

Law sat down wearily in the tub, letting out a deep breath. He rested for a minute, letting his eyes wander over the black spots drawn onto his jeans with sharpie. All his clothes ended up like that—he doodled the spots whenever he was bored in class or hanging out by himself. Just his thinking-patterns.

He shook off the thoughtful moment and reached one hand out of the shower curtain to grab his t-shirt and hoodie. He finished dressing in the shower.

“My turn yet?” Kidd grumbled when he finally reappeared.

“Oh, you do wash?”

“Haha. Go to hell.” He belched and grabbed the towel from Law.

---

Things were calm in their chaotic way throughout the rest of the morning. No more texts came from back home, and Law let that issue settle to the back of his mind. Nami seemed happy, though she started pointedly ignoring Kidd as soon as he made motions to leave for work. She focused instead on sticking band-aids to Law's shirt.

“The hell is she doing?” Kidd wondered. “Nami, the hell are you doing? Stop wasting those. I can only get the animal ones when the old blind lady's working the cash.”

“She saw my tattoos and decided they were boo-boos,” Law grumbled. He watched disapprovingly while Nami carefully patched up the sharpie spots on his jeans too.

“Ohhh, heh. You got tats?” Kidd looked him over quickly, but they were all covered up.

“Yeah, a couple in blackwork. They're kinda personal so I don't really show em off.”

“That's fuckin sweet, I wanna get some but they're so expensive. The piercings, I can at least do myself.”

Law shrugged. “Yeah, I got a friend with his own machine who does it for me.”

Kidd watched Nami, a little smile sneaking over his face. “Aw, that's actually pretty cute…” He took out his phone and held it up for a picture.

Law tensed. “Uh! I don't like pictures of me.”

“No? Kay I'll just get one of her then.” The phone made an obnoxious fake camera snap sound.

“...Great.” Law slouched in his chair with his head propped up on one fist.

“What you wanna eat later, any takeout requests?” Kidd asked.

“Whatever.”

“Chicken bucket?”

Law shrugged.

Kidd waited but just got more silence. He tried his sister. “Nami: chicken?”

That one was definitely ignoring him. Kidd gave up with an impatient growl and left for work, stomping his way outside with extra force.

“Ah fuck…” Law regretted his terseness as soon as the other had gone. Now he felt bad. “Nami, stop. Kidd said don't waste those.”

“Haha… yah.”

“Nami. I said stop.”

She startled at his harsh tone, and started to cry. Law sighed in frustration as she tried to climb up into his lap for comfort.

“Law, you hug me. I'm Nami and you hug me.”

“Law doesn't like hugs, Nami.”

She insisted, “Kidd is always hug me and give me a band-aid.”

“Kidd lets you have what you want too much,” Law observed.

But he picked her up to sit on his lap. She applied a final tiger band-aid to the middle of his chest, and he scoffed and massaged his temples.

“Nami, a locked door means don't go in. Okay?”

“Hmhmhn.” Now she was ignoring him and humming to herself. She picked up the pencil on the table and started adding her own designs to Law's stats assignment.

“Nami.” He took the sheet away and she looked at him in outrage.

“No!” she scolded him.

Law scolded her right back. “Hey! Listen! Closed door is no.”

“NO.”

“NO,” he said even louder. Great, now he was getting in a shouting contest with a toddler.

Nami wasn't having it, though. She slid down off his lap and went to go damn well do her own thing. A moment later, she came back and took the band-aid right off his chest before leaving again.

He shook his head in disbelief. “Damn, that's cold.”

---

Law brooded at the table for a while, staring past the little pile of photocopied practice sheets he was supposed to be working on and coloring his nails black with sharpie. A chair scraping the floor next to him brought him back to reality. Right… he was babysitting.

Nami climbed up on the chair and handed Law a little jar of something. Black nail polish.

“Heh. You think black nails are pretty, Nami?” Law smiled and accepted the peace offering.

“Yah.” She watched him shake the jar and inspect the contents. Her own nails were an even, glossy black—the product of Kidd's steady hand.

“I think it's nice too…” Law started on his left thumb, trying to match Kidd's technique.

“Our’s dad is say no, it's haggy.”

“Haggy?”

“Yah.”

“What's that?” Law could mostly decipher her toddler-speak, with all its fumbled f's and chubby-cheeked babble, but sometimes it took a minute.

She paused and thought. “Hm.”

“Haggy…” Law thought, and then got it. “Oh… fuck. Nami don't say that to anyone, that's bad.”

“Is bad?”

“Well… it's not bad to be, uh, that. But it's mean to say it to someone. It hurts.” He paused and looked at his hand, half-painted and definitely messy. He bit his lip and stubbornly went about doing the rest too. “Anyway, black nails aren't bad, they're babely. Especially on guys. Like your brother.”

Nami seemed satisfied. “And witches too and mermaids?”

“Definitely. Babely and not bad...”

She watched Law move onto his right hand, fumble it, and make a blob. “You do it bad.”

She dodged Law's attempt to give her an even bigger blob, and ran off screeching gleefully. Law gave up the task with a sigh and picked up his phone instead.

---

You: cheese fries.

Kidd: cheese fries??

You: cheese fries

You: or whatever you want

You: its your money

Kidd: cheese fries!!!!! !!; ✓✓✓

---

Kidd got back earlier this time. Law looked out the window, surprised to see it was still daylight, but a little relieved. Nami had been an on-and-off terror again that day. The little hellion signaled her joy at Kidd's early return by running up to him and screeching like a banshee.

“That’s a great new noise,” Kidd winced.

Law wasn't listening. He was looking at the message that had just popped up on his phone.

Bellamy: dad asking where u is……..

You: just tell him I took off early this morning

You: friend's place

You: back really soon

Bellamy didn't reply and Law swallowed a surge of panic. “I think I gotta go,” he mumbled.

“Cheese fries,” Kidd countered, holding up a brown paper bag.

“My dad’s home, and he'll want me to check in…”

“Cheese fries and I drive ya.” Kidd kicked off his boots and headed for the kitchen.

Law fiddled with his phone for a moment, but there were no more messages, and he'd asked for cheese fries, and hey, what was another few minutes anyway. He sat at the table with the two unruly redheads, both talking with their mouths full and shoveling down the fries without pausing to swallow. Kidd cracked a beer but took it slow, catching Law's glance. Nami quickly stuffed herself and fell asleep under the table with a blanket. They let her be while they ate.

“It’s the municipality's depot shop, so yeah, crooked as hell, but good-crooked, hahaha,” Kidd was explaining his new job around a cheesy mouthful.

“Oh? What kind of corruption is the good one again?” Law stirred his own fries into a mushy mass.

“Kind that pays cash and don't ask about certifications.”

“Oh, heh…”

Kidd shrugged. “Yeah. Little lax on the health and safety, but least it's not the Pit.”

“Yeah.” Law replied vaguely.

His strange host finished his greasy gravy-and-cheese mess and leaned back in his chair, stretching as much as he could in the small space. The black nails and metal-studded lips were such a weird contrast to the prissiness of the room—dusty lace valances and bonneted geese painted on the tile backsplash. The long-limbed boy just seemed so ill-fitted here; almost crammed in.

“So you got yourself a mess there, eh.” Kidd started, delicately.

Law sighed. “Yeah, well it's not really a ‘mess’. I'm probably overreacting. My Dad's just a little nuts about rules and family responsibilities… of which I seem to have the greater share…”

“Yeah, that's shitty.” Kidd chewed thoughtfully on a toothpick. “I wasn't tryna pry.”

“It's cool.”

“I meant your mani, though,” Kidd gestured with the toothpick at Law's left-handed paint job.

“Oh! Yeah that? Mess.” Law gave an embarrassed laugh. His left hand was okay, but his right was just a blobby attempt at two fingers.

“Want me to…?”

“Uh. Yeah. Maybe. Just if you want to,” Law laughed again, a little too loud.

“Yeah definitely. There's remover in the bathroom,” Kidd suggested.

Law went and cleaned off the smeared black on his right hand and returned. Kidd shuff-shuffed his chair over to Law's and shook the little vial of polish.

“Okay, gimme your uh…” Kidd noticed Law's flinch as he went to grab his hand. “Or actually, just put your hand on the table, here?”

Law placed his hand in the table, fingers spread, and Kidd went about his art. He somehow did each finger with only two strokes, leaning in close to execute the little flicks with peak precision. He laid his head right on the table, pillowed on an arm, to complete the thumb from up close. Law watched him frown in concentration.

“Nice. Don't move for ten minutes.” Kidd grinned when he'd finished. He blew lightly on Law's fingers with a pwfff to dry them.

Law put his head on his arm too, settling in across from Kidd. “Thanks.”

“Pfffwww.”

“Pffffffw,” Law puffed back at him.

“Haha, weird,” Kidd admitted.

“Mhm…”

Law drummed his painted fingers and didn't say anything for a couple minutes. Kidd let the silence stretch on, watching him as they both rested their heads on the table.

“...You worried about going back, huh.”

Law lifted his eyes to meet the other's, but then looked down again. They were too direct, felt like lasers.

“Doesn't matter. I’m needed back home,” he mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Or ‘required,’ I guess.”

“Hm,” Kidd mused.

“We don't got a mom, so.”

“She gone, or?”

Law shuffled and scoffed. “Well she was never my mom. She divorced my dad before I was ever adopted, and left their two sons with him. Went off somewhere. She comes back sometimes but she's like, a rich brat. I think she's actually very minor royalty in one of the shittier parts of Europe?”

“Heh, screw her then.”

“Definitely. So anyway, someone needs to make sure shit is in order. And watch my brothers,” Law explained.

“They're grown up, though, right?”

“Well, Dellinger's thirteen… and a little special… But actually, yeah, he's fine by himself. Way more than Bellamy was at that age.”

“Well, so you can just keep staying here!” Kidd decided.

Law laughed and rolled his eyes. “I can't just stay.”

“Yeah you can.” Kidd countered, honestly, and Law didn't really know what to say. Kidd pressed on, “Why not?”

“Don't think people around here like me much.”

“You think they like me here?” Kidd snorted. “They don't matter anyway. Nami likes you, and she never likes anyone.”

Law smiled to himself, thinking of the animal band-aids. “She's a good kid.”

“Just around you.”

Law withdrew back into silence, though he didn't make any move to get up, or to shake off the way their fingertips were lacing together loosely. He kept his head on the table and chewed his lip, looking at their matching fingernails instead of at Kidd.

“I kinda do too.”

“I... probably gotta go, for real,” Law responded after a flustered moment.

Kidd sat up with a casual shrug. “Yeah. I'll take you on the bike.”

“But, yeah, um… Maybe I could just come by sometimes, like after class, and, study here or just hang? Would that be cool?”

“Yeah!” Kidd's grin was so fierce and genuine it was impossible not to grin back.

---

They took off on the bike past all the tar-paper houses. Their windows were lighting up as the sky dimmed into grey dusk. Here and there firepits and packs of noisy kids sent up flurries of light and activity.

“The carpool again,” Law yelled to Kidd as they drove.

“Not all the way home?”

“Not unless you wanna run into my dad…”

“I don't mind,” Kidd shrugged.

“I mind.”

Kidd pulled into the carpool, stopping under the orange glow of the streetlight just as it flicked on. Law pulled off the helmet and dismounted with a little flutter in his stomach.

“So uh. Tomorrow?” Law leaned a casual hand on the bike handlebars, trying to be all smooth as fuck.

“Yeah…” Kidd watched him with a little smile.

Law leaned in, an answering smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. He didn't rush it—it was kinda nice to be the one looking down at Kidd for once.

But then something pinged the back of Law's awareness: A sound that sent all his internal alarms off. A car he knew… and not the old Volvo.

“Shit…” he looked up and down the highway.

“What, something up?” Kidd looked around too.

“Uh.” Law listened another frozen second, and then took off in a flat run for the trees.

“Okay cool see ya,” Kidd called to his back.

“Yup!”

---

Kidd sat on his bike and kicked his heels into the gravel for a moment after Law had taken off.

“Whatever,” he decided. Weird guy could go be weird or whatever. Not like Kidd cared. He fit the helmet onto his head and the lingering scent of hair oil and cloves struck him, close and unexpected…

Kidd felt his face and neck heat up again.

“...fuck,” he grumbled. He crossed his arms and looked around, staying hidden in his helmet and waiting for the stupid whatever feeling thing to pass. It didn't. “Fuck!” he told the streetlight.

He revved the bike and tore away onto the highway, weaving around the recent-model Caddy that was making its stately way past. It honked sternly.

“Fuck off, hippie!” Kidd yelled at it as he speed away.

[wilderwestqueen]

You’re Everything I Want (And Nothing I Can Keep) - Chapter Fourteen

“Prove it. Bring her along this weekend, and prove it to everyone.” After a little white lie, Hiccup has to do something drastic to avoid embarrassing himself at a family reunion. Lost for any other ideas, Hiccup asks his best friend to pretend to be his girlfriend, just for a day. What could possibly go wrong? 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Start from the beginning

(fanfic.net) (ao3)

I Would Have Said Yes

Waking up next to Hiccup was becoming harder and harder.  

Or at least, it would be if she ever actually woke up next to Hiccup. Nine times out of ten, Astrid would pretend to be asleep while she listened to Hiccup slink slowly out of bed each morning. She’d hear the clunk of metal against floor as he put his prosthetic against the floor, and there would always be a moment where he stopped, and everything would go silent, while he looked over at her to check that she hadn’t woken up. Then she’d hear him wander over towards his suitcase to pull out something to wear. Most of the time when she’d open her eyes and pretend to wake up, he’d be doodling at his desk, or just sitting at his chair.

The worst thing about it was that she had really begun to enjoy his close company; sometimes she would wake in the middle of the night to find that Hiccup’s arms had slipped around her waist and he’d pulled her close, their limbs tangled together. On those occasions, she’d almost do her best to try and keep herself awake, it was so nice to just lie there together. Hiccup radiated heat, and it was all that she could do to stop herself from snuggling closer. But no matter how hard she tried to keep herself awake and enjoy the moment, she always succumbed to sleep, her eyes drooping shut, only to open again in the morning and find that, once again, Hiccup had vacated the bed.

“How long have you been awake?” she’d ask, as if she hadn’t been listening to his movements.

“Oh, not very long,” Hiccup always responded, even if he’d been out of bed for an hour or more. “I was getting restless.”

Astrid would bite her lip, remembering all the times in university when she’d had to forcefully drag him out of bed, listening to him whine, “five more minutes,” over and over again.

It carried on morning after morning, until one morning she hadn’t heard a peep from him, opened her eyes, and found that he wasn’t there at all. She sat up, wiped sleep out of her bleary eyes and dimly registered the alarm clock displaying 6:00am, and looking over the side of the bed to find Hiccup’s prosthetic missing. Astrid wrapped the blanket around herself, and stumbled down the stairs, finding Hiccup sitting out on the porch, letting Toothless nibble at his fingers.

“Hiccup?” she said, “what are you doing up so early?”

He fed her some mumbled excuse, and Astrid headed back upstairs.

She was fully prepared to get another hour or two of sleep, but when she tucked herself back into the bed, she couldn’t shut her mind off. She kept thinking about Hiccup, about the way he kept disappearing every morning, and the way he kept getting out of bed as soon as he woke up, almost as if-

-Almost as if he couldn’t stand being in bed with her.

Hiccup thought that she didn’t know what he was up to.

For their first few days on Berk, it had been like a holiday: she and Hiccup had visited the beach, the pool, all the sites the little island had to offer, and for a while, it had been amazing. Hiccup was loosening up in a way he hadn’t done for so long, and it was so lovely to see. He was smiling so much more, smiling at her, and it was wonderful in so many ways to see her best friend happy.

Wedding preparations had thrown a spanner in the works.

It was like someone had flicked a switch in Hiccup’s brain, and suddenly all he wanted to do was run around on errand after errand, promising Val they’d do anything she asked of them, even if he and Astrid had already made plans to do something together. Their once relaxing holiday now had them on their feet every single day, while Hiccup whisked Astrid around on job after job.

And that was fine, it really was fine, because this was his parents wedding, and of course he’d want it to go well. She had no assumptions that she wasn’t going to pull her weight, and she was happy to do so. She’d basically just been invited on a free holiday - there was no way in hell that she wasn’t going to help out.

But then… there was something about the way Hiccup was keeping them busy, getting so sucked into a job that he didn’t want to talk to her, having them do errand after errand after errand so they never got any time alone, flopping down exhausted on the bed at night and then sneaking out in the morning before she woke up. He’d always had time for her, he’d always wanted to talk, he’d always wanted to be around her; but now, it was like he couldn’t bear to be in the same room.

It took a week before she grew tired of it.

They’d been sent out to the barn to put some decorations up, and somehow, Astrid had found herself on a stepladder, pinning silk to the rafters while Hiccup watched her, as gormless as ever, his arms hanging uselessly at his side. She clenched her teeth around the pins sticking in her mouth - a part of her thinking that she’d really like to stick pins in him - and kept going, the desire to be helpful winning out over the desire to throw the towel in.

Down below, she felt Hiccup’s eyes leave her, and then she heard him talking to someone else. Even from up high she could hear the change in his voice, and could tell that he didn’t want to be talking to whoever it was. Curiosity piqued, she turned around to see who it was, the ladder wobbling underneath her.

Bad idea.

No sooner had she turned was she falling through the air, toppling down and smacking into a pile of hay. She swore as pain spread through her leg and up her back, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her hands balling into fists.

“Astrid!”

She could hear him rushing over, and resisted the urge to scream. She knew that he’d be there, hand out, eyes filling with concern, and right now, the last thing she wanted was Hiccup to be nice to her.

“Don’t touch me, Haddock,” she hissed, and slapped his hand away.  

She hadn’t seen Hiccup’s mother enter the barn, but the next thing she registered was Val pulling her to her feet, and helping her walk back outside.

“Honestly, Hiccup, why weren’t you watching the ladder?” Val had chastised as they passed him, and Astrid couldn’t help but feel a strange, mean-spirited kind of satisfaction when she saw the look of guilt pass across Hiccup’s face.  

Val kept propping her up the whole walk home, one arm firmly behind her back to keep her upright.

“Really, Val, I’m fine,” Astrid said, watching as Val attempted to find her keys with one hand and hold Astrid up with the other. Astrid shrugged out of the embrace, proving she could walk on her own. “I’ll have a couple of bruises tomorrow, but I didn’t really fall that far. The hay broke my fall.”

“You sure?” Val said, holding up both her hands as if Astrid might fall again.

“Positive.”  

“That’s a relief,” Val said, breaking out into a full smile, finally able to find her keys and let them into the house. When they were inside, Val regarded Astrid with a look she couldn’t decipher, before saying, “let’s have drinks on the patio, I’ve been meaning to get some time alone with my son’s girlfriend.”

A pit formed in Astrid’s stomach. She’d long since stopped being afraid of Hiccup’s mother after the few moments they had talked at the reunion. The image she’d had of Val as this imposing woman with eyes that bored into the back of your skull and saw all your secrets had completely faded away now, and she blamed that image entirely on Hiccup. The number of stories he had told her parents had twisted her view of them, but now she couldn’t place these sweet, kind-eyed people in the stories he’d spun.

And yet, there was something about being with Hiccup’s parents that made her uncomfortable. The constant scrutiny from them - even when it was affectionate - felt heavy and too much to bear. The guilt was already too much to handle, it had made its forever home in her stomach, and it wasn’t going to leave any time soon. She didn’t want to think about how Hiccup was going to tell them the truth.

She shuffled behind Val into the kitchen, taking the jug of squash that was offered to her, and followed her outside onto deck. Val dropped into a seat, and patted the one next to her. Astrid sunk down into the seat, putting the jug of squash on the table next to her.

“Sorry about today,” Val said. “There’s no reason why you should’ve been up on that stepladder. Honestly, I would’ve thought Hiccup would’ve found someone else-”

Astrid waved a hand in front of her face. “It’s fine,” she said, quickly. “I was happy to do it. Just wasn’t careful enough.”  

“You shouldn’t have been doing that much,” Val said. “Take a break for the next few days. Hiccup’s been working you to the bone.”

“He just wants everything perfect for your wedding,” Astrid said, tapping her fingers against the glass of squash, “you know Hiccup. Won’t stop until the job’s done, and done properly.”

Val sighed. “Yes, I know my son. Was rather hoping that he’d tell me to shove off and choose to spend the time alone with you.”

“Me too,” Astrid said without thinking. Then she blinked, and started gabbling, “sorry, that’s not what I meant, I thought that you-”

Val tipped her head back and laughed, and as she did, Astrid couldn’t help but notice that her eyes crinkled just the same way Hiccup’s did when he laughed. “Sorry,” Val said, composing herself. “It’s just, in that moment, you sounded exactly like Hiccup.”  

“Oh,” Astrid said, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I guess I did.”

“You’re so like him,” Val said. Astrid could feel her gaze hot on her, and she found herself staring straight into her lap. “And so not like him, at the same time.”

“I am?” Astrid braved a look up at the other woman. She was looking down at her with an intense expression that made Astrid look away again.

“You are,” Val said. “You’d make such a good Haddock.”

Astrid eyes bugged, and she spluttered, barely able to make her next sentence out, “well, I mean, I’m not sure that’s on the cards yet-”

Val laughed again. “Not now, my girl, not now,” she said, “but one day soon. I know my son, and I know how he strongly he feels about you.”

Then why won’t he look at me?

Astrid had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying it. Instead she nodded and smiled, and was reminded again that Hiccup was a really good actor, he must be, because he’d managed to fool his own parents.

Up above them, the sky crackled.

Val’s eyes shot upwards, and she gave another sigh. “Honestly, English weather is so unpredictable, we better get inside before it gets too wet…”

Back up in the safety of Hiccup’s room, Astrid watched from the window as torrent of rain fell from the sky. Hiccup still hadn’t come home.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, not really.

He came in hours after her talk with Val, dripping wet, and serious looking. Astrid’s bad mood had dissipated, something that was do with getting some alone time, listening to the rain while she read a book. She smiled at him, apologised for snapping, convinced that she’d made up all of her grievances with Hiccup in her own head, until those words came:

“I think I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, not with the way that he had been sneaking out of bed early morning, not with the way that he’d been finding excuses not to talk to her, and yet, it still stung just as badly as it would have done had it been news to her.  

She watched him stutter and stumble over his words, refusing to look at her while he made up excuses. Then he fled, leaving Astrid alone in his bed.

That night, she didn’t sleep a wink. Hiccup’s bed, which had at point been wonderfully comfortable and deliciously warm, was now stark cold. No matter what position she crawled into, she couldn’t get herself to rest easy, her mind running a mile a minute.

Oh, what had she done to make him avoid her so?

He was almost normal around his parents.

She knew his game; knew that he was trying to keep the facade around his parents only to snub her when they were alone, and she knew that she shouldn’t buy into it, shouldn’t let herself believe the lie but, god, she had missed her best friend so much. She’d resolved to play Hiccup’s game back at him until the wedding was over - not too much, she liked Hiccup’s parents too much to spoil it for them - but, god damn it, if he was going to be distant, she could be distant too.  

But, when all was said and done, she found that she simply couldn’t pretend that she didn’t like him. When he’d make a joke to his parents, when he’d do that stupid squeaky voice of his to protest something they’d said, when his eyes crinkled when he laughed, she couldn’t help but feel somehow lighter, and she’d laugh along too. Then she’d feel angry about it, like her body was betraying her.

She’d been mulling all this over while she loaded all manner of cutlery and plates into a large crate, piling up crate after crate with such force they rattled as she plonked them into their place. She was almost done, and was about to turn and leave, when there was a brush of metal across her skin.

Astrid turned and saw Alvin standing over her, his trademark twisted smile on his face.

“Miss Hofferson, I believe?” he said, and held out his hand.

She remembered Alvin from the wedding, and she’d seen him hanging around Berk, always in some corner, watching everything that was going on from under his dark eyes. He had the kind of demeanour that left a bad taste in the mouth, and the feeling that you needed to take a shower after talking to him.

Astrid took his hand tentatively, keeping her eyes warily on the hook. “That’s me.”  

His hand was cold and clammy, and she instinctively shrunk back from him. He wasn’t an attractive man, what with the pale sunken skin, and unkind eyes. He had a hat jammed onto his head, and was clearly balding underneath, despite sporting a dark, wispy moustache and scraggly goatee.

“I hope you’re enjoying your time on Berk,” he said, “although, if I were you, I would be doing everything I could to get out by now.”

Astrid stilled. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m talking about Hiccup.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line. “What about him?”

“It’s obvious he can’t stand this,” Alvin drawled. “I bet he can’t wait until all of this over.”

“Well, weddings are stressful.”

“Even more stressful,” he said, “when you have to pretend to be in love with a girl you can’t stand.”

It was like a punch to the gut. Astrid frowned and said, “what?” her voice much lower than before.

“He’s keeping himself so busy so that he doesn’t have to spend time with you alone,” he said, a nasty glint in his eye. “He leaves the room when you walk in. You should see the faces he makes behind your back.”

“I don’t believe you,” Astrid said, sharply. “He wouldn’t do that.”  

“Wouldn’t he?”

“We’ve been friends for ages,” she said, taking a step back from him. “Why would he decide now that he can’t stand me?”

“I think you know why,” he said.

“No,” Astrid said, her lip curling. “I don’t. And why should I listen to you, anyway? You’ve been trying to mess with us since the beginning.”

Alvin shrugged. “There’s no reason. I’m just a poor, observant farmer telling it like I see it. It’s your choice whether or not you believe me.”

He swept out of the room, stopping at the entrance to turn back and look at her. “But I would have thought,” he said, “that a girl like you wouldn’t let herself get used by some guy.”

Then he left, while Astrid silently fumed.

How dare he?

How dare he think that he could come and mess with her and Hiccup’s friendship like that? She and Hiccup were fine. Sure, maybe things were a little awkward right now. Maybe this whole fake-relationship thing had made things a little uncomfortable. Yes, Hiccup was leaving the room when they were alone, and yes, he’d decided that he didn’t want to sleep in the same bed anymore, but that didn’t mean anything. They were still as good as they had ever been.

Right?

For one glorious day, she was almost right.

Val had organised surprise dancing lessons. Surprise, Val had confided in Astrid, because there was no other way she’d be able to make Hiccup dance otherwise. She’d been right, if Hiccup’s protests were anything to go by. They’d practically had to drag him out of the house. Astrid was surprised that there weren’t skid marks on the floor where his shoes had been.

But once they were there in the barn, once they were dancing, it was almost back to normal, and it was wonderful. He was actually looking at her again, his eyes sparkling as they spun around the room, him stepping on her toes over and over again. He was cracking jokes again, he was clutching onto her for dear life, and he was smiling at her, and in that moment, Astrid felt like she’d got her best friend back. Her heart soared, and she couldn’t help but smile, looking straight at him, and thinking that, right then, she wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.  

Astrid didn’t know what made her do it.

Maybe it was the thrill of being under lights, music blaring loudly around them, or perhaps, it was her way of sticking it to Alvin – he was wrong, he was so utterly wrong – or maybe, just maybe, she wanted to see what would happen if she did.

As the dance slowed, and the music faded, Astrid’s fingers curled around his, their eyes locked in each other.

“Hiccup,” she whispered. “Your parents are watching.” She leaned in and kissed him.

It was just like every other time, warm, soft and comfortable, just like Hiccup himself. He froze like he always did every time she’d initiated contact, but this time, he recovered quickly, and she could feel his fingers cupping her cheek, pulling her closer. Her lips buzzed, her heart thumped, and it was something, finally something, and then, just as she was losing all sense of herself, Hiccup pushed her away.  “Hiccup?” she mumbled, her eyes snapping back open.

His green eyes, once soft, now had shame reflecting in them, and he backed away from her further, almost bumping into the wall behind him. “Sorry,” he said, and Astrid felt bile rising in her throat at the way his voice was filled with so much pity. “Sorry,” he said again, and then turned, tripping over himself to get away from her, mumbling apologies as he ran.

Astrid was left standing frozen, watching as Hiccup disappeared in the crowd of people that had come flooding into the barn.

At the side, Alvin caught her eye, a nasty grin etched upon his face.

Astrid swung an axe at a log and screamed. When she was young, long before her family had moved to the city, long before her father had ditched her mother at the altar, Astrid and her parents had lived out in the countryside. Astrid’s mother, wonderful warrior woman that she was, had taken to chopping her own firewood rather than buying it from the local store, and little Astrid would dance around the stump and watch her.

“Me too!” she’d cry. “Me too!”

Her father would balk at the sight of her mother handing the axe – “she’s far too young!” – but Astrid’s mother was careful, and taught her daughter well. In later years, Astrid would think it was a miracle that she’d never managed to chop her own arm off.

When Astrid was thirteen and watching her mother go from warrior woman to shattered broken pieces, she’d run out into the woods in her bridesmaid dress and taken the axe with her, chopping logs into splinters until her hands had blisters from gripping the axe to tight.

After Hiccup left her in the crowd, Astrid ran from the barn, finding her way to the woods where Gobber had been chopping wood as decoration for the wedding.

Astrid had offered to help, but Gobber had refused. “No, no,” he said. “I just need you to wheel it back to the barn. Don’t want any casualties!”

The axe was right where he’d left it, and before she’d even realised what she was doing, she picked it up and slammed it back down into the wood, over and over and over again.

There was a tightness in her chest that just wouldn’t leave, an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach, because Alvin had been right.

She remembered Hiccup’s nickname for the man - Alvin the Treacherous - she knew that he was trying to stir the pot, trying to cause drama.

But pot-stirrer or otherwise, it didn’t mean that there wasn’t truth to what he’d been saying. Hiccup had been avoiding her. He’d been ignoring her. He’d acted like he’d been burned after their kiss, and since then, he’d disappeared. Liar or not, he’d only been saying things that had already been there in her own head, and she couldn’t deny the facts.

Astrid kept chopping wood until her arm ached, and clouds had begun to draw overhead. As the first drops of rain began to fall, she made her way back to the house, dreading the idea that she’d have watch Hiccup shrink away and avoid her for the rest of the trip. She slunk through the front door just as the torrential downpour let loose.

She’d been planning to duck her head and scramble straight to her room, ready to hide away for as long as necessary, but before she could even make the stairs, someone had put their hand on her shoulder.

She stilled, cursed her stars for dragging her luck through the mud, and looked up to see Stoick looking down at her. She plastered a fake smile on herself which she suspected looked more like a grimace, but it seemed to pass muster, as Stoick beamed back.  

“Where did you run off to?” he said, “you and Hiccup disappeared. Trying to get some alone time?”

He nudged her and winked, and Astrid pressed her lips together in a tense half-smile.

“Where’s the boy now, I wonder?” Stoick said, but he didn’t seem to be looking for an answer, because he kept talking. “Ah, he’s probably off pouting because we made him dance, eh? Good thing too – I wanted to speak to you alone.”    

Astrid’s heart sank. “Mr. Haddock, I-”

“Call me Stoick, Astrid, we’re familiar enough now, aren’t we?” he said, and his good-natured smile made her want to cry.

“Sorry, Stoick, it’s just that I was just-” Astrid began, and then trailed off, as a dozen excuses sprung to her lips, none sounding even a little bit plausible.

Hiccup’s father didn’t give her a chance to pick one, clapping his hand down on her shoulder. “This won’t take long, Astrid, I just wanted to talk a little bit about you and my son, no need to look so worried.”

If only you really knew about me and your son, Astrid thought to herself, but didn’t say anything, letting herself be lead into the kitchen and dropping down onto one of the chairs that Stoick had offered her way.  

“I have to tell you, I have never met a more well-spoken, smart, capable woman of your age before,” he began.

Astrid shifted in her a seat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh. Well, thank you, Stoick,” she mumbled, staring down at her lap.

“I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I say that I couldn’t think of anyone better for my son,” he said.

“Oh,” Astrid said, and found that she couldn’t say anything more, because if she did, her voice would shake, and she’d give the whole game away.

“I know Val’s said a few things to you, but I want to let you know,” Stoick said, “you’re a Haddock through and through. I already consider you part of the family.”  

Astrid’s throat was closing up, and there was a pang in her chest that was almost too painful to bear.

“Just wanted to let you know that,” Stoick said. “You’re one of us now, Astrid.”

He squeezed her shoulder, and left the room, leaving Astrid alone to sit there, frozen in shock.

She gave it one last sad, sorry try.

The next morning, when Hiccup had finally emerged form wherever he’d disappeared to, she got nothing but a thin-lipped smile from him, and a nod.

“You alright?” he asked at breakfast.

No. I’m far from alright.

“Fine,” she said, munching on a bowl of cereal.  

Come on, Hiccup, she urged in her head, talk to me. Prove me wrong.  

But he didn’t.

He didn’t talk for the rest of breakfast, staring straight down at his food, his eyes not even flickering up at her.

“...Are you alright?” she asked, silently pleading for him to say something, do anything to give her a sign that her suspicions weren’t true.  

Hiccup shrugged. “Fine,” he said. “Everything’s fine.”

No mention of the kiss. Nothing about the way he was acting. Nothing about anything.

Astrid had to force herself not scream in frustration.

There was a point in her life when she could look into Hiccup’s green eyes and tell exactly what he was thinking.

Now she looked into them and saw nothing.

He didn’t say much else on their walk into town. Nor did he say anything to her in town as they ran errand after errand, even when people seemed to want to do nothing but talk a mile a minute to them.  

And he didn’t say anything at all on their long walk home, he just stared down at his feet the whole journey.

Before they’d even made it back to the house, Astrid had made up their mind. As soon as they got to the front door, Hiccup had disappeared somewhere into the house, continuing with his let’s-be-anywhere-but-here theme. That suited Astrid just fine. She climbed up the stairs almost in a daze, entered Hiccup’s room and pulled out her bags from where they’d been stashed in a corner, dragging them out into the middle of the room and opening them up. Her hands shook a little as she moved, trying to hold her breath and keep herself from getting too worked up.

She was kneeling in front of them and filling them up with her stuff when Hiccup came in the room.

She barely looked up at him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said.  

When Hiccup was nine years old, he fell over the top of the handlebars of his bicycle.

There was a moment when the wheel got stuck on a stone, he pushed hard on the brakes and he flew, straight over the top. Years later, he still remembered the feeling of his stomach turning upside down, the anticipation of the concrete coming towards him, the feeling like he’d had all the air knocked out of him as he smacked onto the ground, a crying mess.

Seeing Astrid in his room, hair bursting out of her braid as she scrabbled through her suitcases and bags at her feet, lips pursed into a straight line, made the whole feeling come rushing back again.

“What?” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she repeated, the words ringing in his head like a siren. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

Astrid shook her head, no words coming to her. She looked like she was fighting off the urge to cry. “I can’t. I just can’t do this anymore.”

Hiccup took a step forward, his hand reaching out for her, his brain begging his mouth to do something, to say anything, anything that would make her change her mind.  

“Please don’t leave,” he said, his heart thumping in his throat.

“I have to,” Astrid said. She turned her back to him, yanking open another one of her bags and dumping clothes into it. “I have to go right now.”

His brain and his body finally caught up to each other and he ran over to her, his hand gently catching her wrist. “At least tell me what’s wrong. Did something happen at home? Did someone-?”

“Oh, come on, Hiccup,” Astrid said as she snatched her hand away from him. She went back to shoving things in the bag. “You are not this dense.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Astrid sighed, raising her eyes to the heavens. “You.”

He’d seen it coming, but it still stung like nothing else. He froze.

“Why?” His voice had gone again.

“I feel like your prop,” Astrid said, her hands curling into fists. “I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore.”

“Just a few more days-”

“Bullshit!” she snapped, kicking at the bed. The bag on toppled onto the floor, and Astrid’s freshly packed clothes spilled out. She scowled and dropped to her knees, refolding clothes and shoving them back in. “Val’s been making hints about us getting married. Stoick’s practically inducted me into the family already. Have you ever thought about how you’re going end this? Tell them that it’s all a lie? Were you really going to break their hearts like that? Or were you going to drag this out even longer still?”

Hiccup reached out a hand to touch hers, but she yanked it away. “Astrid, I-”

“This was supposed to be for a day, Hiccup,” she said, sighing and letting her head flop onto the bag.  “One day.”

“I know. I thought… I thought you didn’t mind,” he said, weakly.

“I didn’t mind!” Astrid said. “I didn’t. I didn’t care when it was just you and me goofing off and hanging out like always. But it’s made it so awkward. You don’t even want to look at me, anymore. You’re not even looking at me now!”

Hiccup’s eyes had slid down towards his feet, too scared to look her in the eye. He forced himself to look at her. She was frowning.

“I thought maybe you were just finding this a little weird, and that’s why you were pushing me away,” she said, “but then Alvin said-”

“Alvin!” Hiccup cut in. “Astrid, you don’t want to listen to anything he says! He just likes to stir up trouble, he’s not-”

But his voice faded away, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. Hadn’t he done the same? Hadn’t he listened to Alvin?

“I know,” Astrid said, firmly. She pulled herself to her feet and took a few steps closer to Hiccup. “At first, I thought the same, but then everything he was saying started to make sense. You don’t look at me. You leave the room when we’re alone. You barely say two words to me when we’re not around someone else. It’s like we’re not even friends anymore.”

Hiccup felt as if someone had just dumped an ice cold bucket of water over his head. “That’s not true.”

“I feel like I’m an object to make your parents proud of you.”

“Astrid,” Hiccup said, his voice cracking, eyes watering. “You’ve got this all wrong-”

“Have I?” she said sharply, her head snapping up to look at him. “So I’m not just here to make your parents like you? Wasn’t that the whole point of this?”

“Well, I-”

“And you’re so wrong anyway, because your parents love you. They love everything about you, you’re just too fucking stubborn to see that,” she said, her teeth gritted.

“That’s not fair,” Hiccup said, his voice low. “You haven’t been around them as much as I have to see-”

“I’ve been around them enough!” she snapped. “Anyone who’s spent any time with them knows that they think the world of you.”

Hiccup stared at the floor, his fingers curling around his trouser material. “You don’t know-”

“I’m just here for you to kiss and cuddle and make a show of in front of your parents, and you can’t even stand to look at me,” she said, hitting him on the arm and pulling him to face her.  

“That’s not true,” Hiccup said again. “Please. Stay. It’s just for a few more days, I promise. Then you go back home, back to work-”

“Hiccup, I lost my job.”

Silence. Hiccup just stared at her, his mouth opening and closing.

He finally managed a very quiet, “what?”

“When I asked my manager for the two weeks off, they told me that if I left, there wouldn’t be a job waiting for me when I got back,” she said quietly, staring down at her fingers.

He stared at her, wide-eyed. “Why did you…?”

“Because you’re my best friend, Hiccup!” she said, her hands balling into fists again. “Because you were so relieved to have a solution to your problem, and when I said I’d do it, your eyes lit up and you looked so happy, and I figured that job wasn’t what I wanted to do forever, right? I’d find another job, and it’d be worth it just to spend the time with you, but oh God, I was so stupid, because now you can’t even be in the same room as me!”

She was practically bellowing by the time she was finished. Hiccup was too stunned to move, or say anything.

Astrid sighed, her voice much quieter when she spoke again, “this was never going to end.”

Hiccup took a step forward. “Astrid, I-”

“When I kissed you,” she said, her voice shaking, “it was like you couldn’t get away fast enough. Did it not mean anything to you?”

Tears sprung in Hiccup’s eyes. “It meant everything.”

Astrid just shook her head.

“I can’t be here anymore,” she said, with a soft, resigned sigh. “I just really, really want to go home.”

“Please don’t leave,” Hiccup said again, his voice hoarse, tears leaking down his cheeks. “Please.”

“What do you even want, Hiccup?” Astrid said.

“You.”

He forced himself to look straight at her, the admission burning in the air. For a moment, something flickered in Astrid’s eyes, and her expression softened, but then it was gone, almost as quickly as it had been there.

“It’s too late,” Astrid said, heaving her bags onto her shoulder, lifting up the suitcase with her other hand and heading towards the door.

“You know what the saddest thing is?” she said, one foot inside the door, one foot out.

Hiccup didn’t say anything, he just stared at her.

“Back before the reunion, if you had asked me to be your girlfriend for real,” she said, her fingers curling around the door handle. “I would have said yes.”

Then she headed out the door, slamming it behind her. Hiccup was left listening to the sound of her suitcase thumping down the stairs.

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