#this is just one of Astrid’s winter outfits | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gaeilmeta · 2 months ago

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Kindling

He flicked the kill switch and coasted into the parking lot. With the heel of his boot, he casually deployed the kick-stand just in time to let the gradually halting motorcycle keel over into a gentle three-point pose. Still astride, he slipped off his black, high-cuffed gloves and removed his helmet. Its mirror finish reflected bursts of sunlight as he stuffed the gloves into the flashing orb. Pressing down on the ignition key, he gave a subtle twist and released. The small key rocketed upward several inches where he snatched it from its apex and slid it into the breast pocket of his green leather jumper. She dismounted from the passenger seat, pried off her pearl white head armor and immediately squatted in front of the small rear-view mirror that angled downward from the left handlebar. Using her long crimson-colored nails she anxiously primped at her short platinum hair. Once she finally deemed herself presentable she stood up, reached out to cup his face in both hands and emphatically pressed her deep red lips over his. For her, the long lazy day she was spending with him could not have been more perfect.

"Mmmmmmm," she hummed, lingering a moment before breaking the kiss. Then she rubbed her cheek hard into his and exhaled a husky, "Thank you."

"Not sure what I did," he said, "but if you tell me, I will definitely do it again!"

"You just never mind," she scolded while shaking a finger at him in mock rebuke. With the thumb of her other hand, she wiped away the scarlet traces that she'd left on his lips.

For most Mary's Lakeside Grill would not be considered fine dining, but for a couple of lowly human service workers, Mary's offered a decent meal at a modest price. The pier deck built out into the water to accommodate summer boating customers also offered a prime platform for watching sunsets through the surrounding willows.

Walking toward the entrance she wedged herself under his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Who's my...?" She asked while coyly coaxing him to complete the question.

Though her baiting brought a faint smile to his face, he nevertheless resisted the obligatory response. Instead, he draped his arm around her neck and gave a little tug hoping that small reassurance might satisfy the moment.

"Come on, say it!" she insisted pulling at his open collar. "Who's my...?"

He rolled his eyes. He found this recurring exercise particularly inane. Still, he knew from experience a failure to comply might well result in a far more disagreeable circumstance. Besides, he secretly enjoyed the implied sentiment.

"Pumpkin pie," he relented.

"There now, that wasn't so bad," She teased as she patted and then rubbed his back in small circles.

Seated at one of the many sturdy picnic tables occupying Mary's deck, she ordered a plate of steamers and he a chicken pie with a side of corncobs. During the course of their meal, she embarked upon a detailed description of the hats and slacks she'd recently rummaged through at her favorite consignment shop. Assembling novel outfits from the castaways of others was one of her many passions, a craft well-honed by a chronic lack of disposable income.

He tended to regard her ensembles as more costume than fashion. Today's attire for example featured an antique pair of cream-colored Jodhpur trousers. How she managed to scrounge up articles like a nearly forty-year-old pair of perfectly preserved Jodhpurs was a wonderment to him. She especially delighted in the big floppy pockets because they precluded the need for a purse. In complement, she wore a white tuxedo shirt, black satin vest and a cardinal blazer. The high heels of her high-cut black leather boots weren't quite in keeping with the apparent fox chase theme, but partnered with a bow of thin black ribbon tied tightly around her neck, they afforded the provocative signature that stamped most of her ensembles.

"...and the gray pleated wool pants would go perfectly with my winter jacket," she said before pausing to swallow.

Fiddling his coke bottle he observed, "You know, you're fixated in some sort of latency age attic-dress-up state."

She wrinkled her nose dismissively and without missing a beat began to expand upon what she considered the appropriate degree of contrast between solid colors and patterns. He listened as best he could while observing the swarms of insects hovering in the late afternoon sunny patches along the shoreline. He also kept an eye on what appeared to be a thundercloud forming over the north end of the lake. As a veteran motorcycle rider, it was his habit to sweep the sky for signs of rain.

He was savoring the final few spoons of his brownie sundae desert when she abruptly queried, "Why did you give me that look when I showed you my new blouse?"

As if on cue, lightning flashed across the horizon. The lessons of a prior marriage had not been completely lost on him. He knew trouble when he heard it and found the distant rumble of thunder all too fitting.

"What look?" he defended.

"The brow lifting, head tilting, cheek pulled back look," she pressed.

He thought, well hoped, he had sufficiently smoothed over that small tactical blunder. Clearly, he had fooled no one but himself. Sensing any possibility of redemption slipping away as fast as the blood rushing from his face, he quickly concluded that he had only two options. He could continue to feign innocence, which would piss her off, or he could take a risk and come clean, which would piss her off. Screwed either way, he decided to go for broke.

"OK, what's the point of a blouse that's so see-through you have to buy a special bra that doesn't look like a bra in order to wear the blouse?"

Like the swirl of melted ice cream and fudge he was stirring in the bottom of his plastic cup, he was also stirring the demons who inhabited the shadows just beyond the edges of her consciousness. He was blithely unaware, but she could already sense their emerging presence as a vague heaviness in her limbs.

"I don't have to justify anything to you," she said, steeling her voice.

"It's not a question of justification. It's simple logic, or better, the lack of it," he asserted.

"I can wear whatever I want!"

"It's not whether you can or can't anything. Of course you can wear what you want. The issue is why do you choose to wear what you do?" he countered.

She leaned forward over the table and spoke in a low, severe tone, "You're just feeling threatened and want to control me."

"You keep missing my point. Yes, I fully admit that I'm threatened by being crazy in love with you and the power that holds over me, and yes, I'm freaked too about the chances of you one day deciding to kick my older ass curbside. Still, all that's irrelevant to what I'm trying to get at. I couldn't agree with you more about being able to wear absolutely whatever you want or go bare-ass for that matter. The point, however, is the world we live in simply doesn't work that way. There're too many bananas running around. When you dress the way you do, you run a very real risk of attracting the wrong kind of attention. You can end up making yourself a target," he implored.

"So what are you trying to say about the way I dress?" She snapped.

"Dead honest, I'm saying that sometimes you make yourself look...well... the word tart comes to mind."

At first, he was more stunned than her. Like the tide disappearing before the tsunami, there was an eternal moment in which the only thing he could hear was the rapidly increasing rate of his pulse. As her face flushed and eyes welled the stark reality of his vast idiocy flooded him with scalding regret. His stomach began a slow rolling somersault and somewhere inside his head a dissociated voice gasped, "You didn't really just say tart, did you?"

She shot up from the table and marched out of the restaurant. He collected the helmets, paid the waitress and slunk out to face the inevitable. She stood near the bike in the parking lot, back turned, arms folded. She pawed at the ground with the toe of her boot as might a beast before charging. When he got close enough she spun around and ripped her helmet from his hand.

"You fucking prick," she said in a snarl while shoving on the helmet. "I work hard to pay for my own place, my own car and my own way. I scrimp and save for months to buy the clothes and things I like, mostly second-hand for that matter. I'm as good as gold to you, and I take good care of the people at The House. I'm a responsible person goddamn it! If it makes me feel good to wear a see-through blouse or red lipstick or paint my nails fluorescent fucking orange I'll do whatever the fuck I want."

She was becoming more agitated by the second, virtually hissing.

He put his helmet on in resignation. He knew any further chance of rational discussion was hopeless. He was at the very least in for a tongue-lashing that would probably last most of the way home. He began to swing his leg over to mount the bike, only she intervened. Her intent was a face-to-face confrontation, but in her furor, she failed to compensate for her oversized headgear and inadvertently drove the top of her helmet into the bottom of his. Sharp enough to snap his head back, the collision caught him off guard. Years of football play had conditioned him to oppose helmeted aggression in kind. That learned reflex forced an immediate retaliatory head butt, the impact of which caused her to stumble backward against the bike. She being her though smashed right back at him so that they again stood face shield to face shield, eye to eye. He towered over her. Even so, she was up on her toes, chest out, defiant. She could see the sweaty faces now like barely discernable subliminal revelations. She could hear the faint nervous laughter and feel the hands tightening around her wrists and ankles. She could smell their breath!

"You bastard!" She seethed. "You're just like the rest!"

She was so enraged she spewed spittle with each word. It dribbled down the inside of her transparent shield. He knew there was no dealing with her when she went off like this. Exasperated, he began to raise his arms in a gesture of surrender. Before he reached shoulder height though, she threw up her arms defensively and cringed. That pretty much did it for him.

"What... the... fuck! You think I’m about to pop you. You think that! Un-fucking-believable! Spoiler! I am not Travis, your personal rib cracker, or any of that other fuckin' human sludge you've managed to fill your life with. You expect to get smacked 'cuz it's the only friggin’ thing you know. For Christ's sake, I'm the one who actually loves your crazy ass. I might be a whole lot better off if I didn't, but I goddamn do!"

He was close to out and out yelling. He looked around furtively to see if anyone might be privy to their little melodrama. To his relief, there was no one else in the lot. Turning back to her he saw the streaming tears. She didn't look down or away. She just kept gushing, "...staring at that far horizon..." as though he weren't there at all. Eventually, she put her hand out and touched her fingertips to his chest as if bewildered or exhausted. He wanted to gather her up in his arms and hold her, only he knew she wasn't really with him. He'd seen this before. It was better to simply leave her be.

He mounted the bike and fired it up. "Come on," he said.

She crumbled onto the back seat. Hanging her forearms from his shoulders she cradled her helmeted head between them. He took the long way home, riding the back roads. Where she went, was anybody's guess.

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#prose #music #short story #relationship #ptsd

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hiccanna-tidbits · 3 years ago

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The RotBTD+ Gang Plays DnD! (Feat. my ships, sorry not sorry XD)

So highkey I’ve actually been wanting to do a “The Gang Plays DnD” type post for AGES now, but then I saw @hobie-brown and @ohlooksheswriting-wips do DnD AU posts for RotBTD, and then I was like “Ah shit, I really should finish mine, eh?” So thank you to both of you for inspiring me to get off my ass and actually write the post!!!

Hiccup DMs. He comes up with this super complex plot revolving around dragons (because of course) where the party has to dismantle this society ruled by evil knights who want to genocide all of the dragons. Imagine his chagrin when the party wants to do nothing but fuck around in towns and aggravate NPCs 90% of the time.

They usually end up playing at Jack’s apartment, mainly because Hiccup’s dad doesn’t really want a bunch of loud nerds yelling about 20-sided dice in his household while he’s trying to work, if he can at all help it. Jack’s sister regularly barges into their living room and roasts the fuck out of Jack and his friends for being such damn nerds and eats all of their DnD snacks they’ve set out. If they’re in the middle of a combat session, she always gleefully proclaims that they’re all going to die. While Jack is annoyed by this, the rest of the party finds it deeply hilarious.

Jack Overland plays the absolute mayhem warlock Jack Frost, who got his powers through making a deal with the archfey Prince of Frost and has absolutely no qualms about being an evil god’s mortal Sower of Chaos. He spends the vast majority of the campaign doing such useful things as creating ice slicks under annoying NPCs and freezing people’s drinks. He also plays a Tiefling because absolutely no one can talk this boy out of playing the creepy demon race.

Rapunzel plays a woodland nymph druid who is also the party healer (because of course she is). Her name is probably Sunlily or something else suitably hippie-esque. Whenever there’s downtime (or whenever the rest of the party is also dicking around, and she can get away with it), Rapunzel likes to go into the nearest forest and pick the best berries and nuts for the rest of the party. She also loves baking fruit pies and cooking the best nymph food for her companions when given the chance. Definitely the party Cinnamon Roll (every party has one!). She often will turn into cute animals to distract the guards while the party infiltrates a building.

Merida’s character is the party archer and general ranged weapon master, as well as a raging lesbian. Hiccup learns very quickly that any male NPC who tries to flirt with her will very quickly get impaled with an arrow. She can’t ever decide if she wants to be a ranger or a rogue, so she multiclasses in both for flare. She also plays a Tiefling, and continually insists that her character is both scarier and sexier than Jack’s. In combat, she either Leeroy Jenkins her way in with a sword and just starts slashing every which way, or just shoots 90% of the enemies with arrows before the fight even starts. There’s really no in between. She can get away with this because she’s highkey one of the party tanks, and consistently deals a shitton of damage.

Anna plays a human bard, basically having read over the class options and going “Wait, in this one I get to make stylish medieval music??? And wear dramatic and garish outfits and a dumb hat??? And cast wacky illusion spells??? And do silly little magic tricks??? And INSPIRE EVERYONE??? Hell yeah, I’m in!!!” She mostly uses magic attacks in combat (definitely favors Tasha’s Hideous Laughter), but occasionally when she’s out of spell slots she’ll just take to slamming enemies in the face with her lute. She also has WAY too much fun with Vicious Mockery, let’s be real.

Elsa, upon hearing Jack’s character concept, rolls her eyes so far up in her head she can see her damn brain, and vows to play his concept, but serious–solely out of spite. She rolls up a super OP elf Chaos Sorcerer, filled with lots of brooding angst about how uncontrollable her winter powers can get if she isn’t careful. She combines it a bit with Storm Sorcerer so she can create literal blizzards, and Hiccup ends up allowing it just because he thinks it’s cool. Although Elsa’s character is undoubtedly aggravated by the rest of the party’s antics, she starts becoming grudgingly protective of these idiots and can deal some pretty crazy damage when her companions are threatened. She also contains one of the party’s only brain cells.

Eugene of course plays dashing rogue master thief Flynn Rider. Although his high deception and lockpicking skills certainly come in handy, he’s the most chaotic neutral fucker you’ve ever met and will take any excuse to rob NPCs blind or cheat them out of every cent they have in a tavern card game. It’s nigh impossible to get him to cooperate with the rest of the party much of the time, and often Elsa’s character has to either bribe him with some of her family’s gold or threaten to freeze him to stop him backstabbing one or more party members. Eugene’s character forces Hiccup to add in many more heist plotlines than he originally intended. This delights Eugene immensely, and sometimes he goes a bit crazy planning elaborate heists.

Moana plays a sorcerer water genasi. She can control any body of water, but she has a special affinity for controlling saltwater (i.e. the ocean lol). She also requests an animal handling bonus, but only with marine animals, solely because she thought it would be funny. She’s also an ex-pirate who robbed a lot of wealthy merchant ships and freed their slaves back in the day, which Merida thinks is incredibly badass. Moana tends to get bored and unengaged when there are no bodies of water to play around with, so Hiccup ends up having to add a lot more lakes, rivers, and oceans to the campaign than he originally planned on. Moana also takes a sailing skill, and thus the party often ends up traveling by boat. Typically Eugene and Rapunzel will infiltrate and hijack it, and Moana will sail it. Moana probably contains the party’s only other brain cell.

Astrid plays a gigantic berserker orc barbarian who is never without his trusty axe. Astrid is hands down the party’s top tank, and unquestionably deals the most damage every combat session. Much like Merida’s character, Astrid’s character is absolutely a shameless power fantasy. Hiccup pretty easily picks up on this, but is too polite to say anything about it. Jack also picks up on this, but is hardly as courteous as their DM, and teases Astrid mercilessly. Astrid is not amused.

Rapunzel requests that her weapon of choice be a frying pan, her justification being that her character found a discarded one at the edge of a human village outside her woods and mistaked it for a highly-dangerous human weapon. Hiccup is like “…you know what? Fuck it” and rolls up stats for a goddamn frying pan. Jack has nigh-endless admiration for Rapunzel for choosing such a goddamn memey, absurd, yet oddly effective weapon and it definitely makes the poor boy even more smitten with her than he already is.

Eugene and Merida have a bet going on who can sleep with more sexy barmaids. Merida is currently winning, much to Eugene’s chagrin. She’s not even inherently better at seducing NPCs, she and Eugene have the same charisma stat–she just consistently rolls better than Eugene. Eugene is incredibly salty about this.

Anna and Elsa want to be sisters in-game as well, but neither want to change their race–so Anna decides her character was adopted. Hiccup and the rest of the party go along with it, mainly because there’s something deeply hilarious about a regular human bard being adopted and raised by a family of high-powered elf ice mages.

Astrid is absolutely the sort of player who tends to get bored and restless outside of fights, and tends to fidget and twiddle her thumbs waiting for the next combat session. Jack picks up on this, and purposely does more roleplay for longer just to piss her off. He’s also just a very dramatic fucker and highkey loves roleplay.

When she’s not causing mayhem around the town or sleeping with hot women, Merida tries to entertain Astrid between combat sessions by offering to spar with her. Unfortunately, this does not usually end well for poor Merida, as even the most hardcore and badass of tieflings is prone to getting dumpstered by an 8-foot-tall barbarian orc with an axe. Astrid is, nonetheless, grateful to have someone to fight.

Rapunzel, Elsa, and Moana will humor Hiccup and attempt to actually play the main plot. Meanwhile, Jack, Merida, and Eugene are a DM’s worst nightmare. They constantly derail the damn campaign to fuck around, cause mayhem, and do inane shenanigans in every. Damn. Town. They go to. Anna is kind of a wildcard–she’ll typically go with whatever group looks like they’re going to be doing something more interesting. Astrid will go along with whichever group is more likely to get into a fight–which, often as not, is Jack and his posse of terrible Chaotic Neutrals (who have definitely pissed off a number of NPCs into attacking them).

As the campaign goes on, Elsa and Eugene become the beleaguered Party Mom and Dad. Both are quite aggravated by this–especially poor Eugene, who just wanted to play a morally-gray charming rogue who stole everything and got away with it and then accidentally ended up caring about these idiots he got stuck with.

Anna initially joins the campaign because she has a planet-size crush on Hiccup, and inevitably is the one who dragged Elsa into it too. Being the hopeless romantic that she is, Anna writes a love interest into her backstory. Hiccup eventually has the party run into said love interest, and Anna is overjoyed. He starts flirting with her as the love interest, and it’s easily the best 30 minutes of Anna’s life.

Moana and Elsa also give Hiccup pretty detailed backstories, and he works in little subplots for them. Moana gets to bring water back to a dying part of the jungle in the middle of a draught, while Elsa gets to go on a whole sidequest to explore her family history and how they came to be sorcerers.

Jack, Merida, and Eugene also give Hiccup fairly elaborate backstories, but Jack’s and Merida’s are like 99% memes and Dumb Shit. Hiccup tries to give all of them backstory-related plot hooks, but inevitably any hooks he provides are either stabbed, robbed, or frozen. Honestly any plot hook offered to these 3 will be all but spat in the face of and tossed off a cliff.

The one relevant part of Eugene’s backstory is that he and Rapunzel decide they used to be partners in crime before the campaign started. Rapunzel would infiltrate and scout out places he wanted to rob as small, unobtrusive animals (her preferred Wild Shape is a chameleon) and later distract the guards as a bunny or kitten while he went in and took every gold coin in sight. In return, Flynn Rider would bribe builders to not develop into Sunlily’s forest. Rapunzel and Eugene partly came up with this For Funsies, but also it was Rapunzel’s sneaky way of tricking Eugene into having prior connections in the party so he’d be less likely to betray them. It works pretty well–although the entire party is protective of Cinnamon Roll Sunlily, Flynn is certainly especially protective of her.

Astrid does the absolute bare minimum as far as backstories go. She is literally just here to smash stuff, slice people, and beat some fuckers up.

Rapunzel has a backstory, but she’s typically so invested in the main plot and the other party members that Hiccup rarely needs to bring it in to keep her engaged. She’s highkey the party emotional rock, and probably the only one keeping them all together.

On that note, Rapunzel’s character is the ONLY one who can get Jack’s character to take the plot even REMOTELY seriously. Like he’ll be dicking around in the nearest tavern challenging the nearest orc to a drinking game, and Rapunzel will come in and ask him to help them on a Main Plot Quest. And he’ll be like “come onnnnn I’m having funnn” and she’ll be like “Jack pleeeeeease?” and you just. Can’t resist Sunlily’s puppy dog eyes. At all. Also, whenever Sunlily is genuinely threatened, any silliness immediately goes out the window and Jack Frost is OUT FOR BLOOD.

For better or for worse, Rapunzel is not immune to being looped into Jack’s shenanigans. Occasionally if either Merida or Eugene have a particularly hare-brained scheme she’ll go along with it, but by and large Jack is the most successful in convincing her to temporarily abandon the plot and cause mild mischief with him. They once wasted half a session creating an elaborate “ice theme park” for some squirrels in the forest.

Hiccup tries to get Merida to play the main plot by eventually having there be no more sexy female NPCs to seduce in the towns they go to. Unfortunately, this backfires–Merida just hooks up with Moana’s character instead. When asked to roll for how good the lay is, Merida gets a nat 20–and thus her character and Moana’s character end up hooking up regularly throughout the rest of the campaign.

Hiccup introduces a few Wise Old Mentor-type NPCs to guide the party throughout the campaign. While Rapunzel, Elsa, Moana, and Anna actually try to listen to them and take their advice, Merida, Jack, and Eugene absolutely refuse to take them seriously and mercilessly play pranks on them.

At one point, Hiccup gives the party the option to attempt to tame a group of wild dragons and use them as mounts. They all have to make animal handling checks. Anna, Rapunzel, Elsa, and Moana pass. The rest of the party fails, with Jack and Eugene crit-failing. Hilarity ensues.

Hiccup ends up bringing back Anna’s backstory love interest as an NPC regular. Anna thinks he’s just being a good friend and a good DM and trying to incorporate her backstory as much as he can, but really, he just wants an excuse to regularly flirt with her. He hardly has the balls to out-of-game.

Merida comes out as gay toward the end of the campaign. Everyone in the group is extremely supportive, of course, but everyone is also like “Merida…with the amount of barmaids you’ve banged…and the amount of times you and Moana’s character hooked up…this isn’t exactly surprising.”

Hiccup actually finds a way to use Jack and Elsa’s same-concept-opposite-execution characters to the plot’s advantage. He decides one of the main villains will have a prophecy saying he’ll be taken down by a powerful ice mage. The party manages to fool this guy into thinking this ice mage is Jack, and sends Jack to fight him. As soon as the villain sees Jack, he’s like “WHAT??? THIS clown???” (word has absolutely spread throughout the land of Jack not using his ice powers for anything besides mildly annoying trolling). Naturally, the bad guy lets his guard down after thinking he’s going to fight this literal joke, and then Elsa crashes in from the side and absolutely dumpsters him.

Jack tries to defeat the final boss by just annoying him so much that he leaves. Unfortunately, he just annoys him so much that he attacks Rapunzel’s character. Jack’s just like “oh HELL no” and attacks with absolutely nothing held back. Turns out he’s pretty terrifying when he’s not using his magic for Dumb Antics.

During the final boss of the campaign, the Big Bad tries to one-shot Moana’s character, and Merida’s character super theatrically jumps in front of her to take the blow instead. Rapunzel just barely manages to heal Merida’s character, but it’s a really close call. During all this, Merida is like “ah shit...maybe I’m NOT just in this to get fantasy-laid.” After the fight’s over, her and Moana’s characters have a big dramatic love confession and share a Big Damn Kiss in front of everyone. It’s pretty epic.

After the final session of the campaign, Merida drags Moana outside Jack’s apartment and sputters and trips over her words for a solid minute before she finally gets out that through all this nonsense...well...maybe it’s not just in the game that she thinks Moana is hot. Moana just gets this HUGE grin on her face and says “c’mere, Leeroy Jenkins” and just pulls Merida in and kisses her. Cue the rest of the party barging in on them. Merida and Moana freeze, and there’s a moment of terrified silence...and then the entire party starts cheering them on like “took you long enough!”

The entire rest of the party could detect the sexual tension. Literally all of them.

But Eugene is like “HA, THIS MEANS IF WE DO A SEQUEL CAMPAIGN I’M WINNING THAT BET! BECAUSE YOU’RE GONNA BE DATING MO’S CHAR AND THUS NOT ABLE TO SLEEP WITH ANY MORE BARMAIDS!”

By the epilogue session, Jack and Rapunzel are dating. Merida and Moana are also dating. Hiccup and Anna STILL haven’t figured out why they’re so prone to spending half the session flirting when Anna’s love interest shows up, and Hiccup STILL hasn’t figured out why he likes to have Anna’s love interest show up so often. Bless their souls. Maybe they’ll figure it out next campaign...?

Damn I actually really like this...maybe if people like it I’ll do some incorrect quotes or a drabble or something??? Or maybe some HCs from next campaign???

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captainsspnanon · 3 years ago

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C2E31 - Commerce & Chaos - rewatch/liveblog

Two week downtime! AKA – the only downtime the Mighty Nein ever get. Ever.

I love how Matt gets completely and utterly derailed by Sam having the Dr. Mercer pic on his flask.

Props to Sam for getting the gun and going “imma use this to make explosive arrows”

LOLLING at Liam dying when Nott and Jester write the letter to Astrid, first in the ‘oh fuck’ and then in the ‘gonna die from laughter’ aspects

Helloooo Star Razor part 1!

One – I love that Travis gets laser focused when the sword is discussed and keeps whispering ‘buy it! Buy it! Coo buy it!’, and Two – hello Dust of Deliciousness! This cupcake scene was one I was not only heavily spoiled for but also SAW the clip of it a few times before the episode. I kinda wish I’d waited, it didn’t have as much impact because of seeing it ahead of time.

And NOW Beau is all bracered up. It’s interesting how a lot of the art is updated to include weapon and armor upgrades, EXCEPT for Nott/Veth art. She gets the cloak of stealthy, isn’t added to her art. She gets the armor that changes appearance, isn’t added to her art (well, this one is debatable, I guess, due to appearance changing). But Beau’s bracers are added to her art, as well has her darkvision goggles. Caleb’s Elven Chain eventually gets added to his winter art. Caduceus’s shield upgrades get added, Fjord’s weapon changes get added. Just an interesting thing. (also seriously fuck me how many times do I say ‘interesting’ in these damn things! Don’t take a shot each time, you’ll be hospitalized. The trouble is that I write these like I’d be saying them aloud, and speaking aloud the word ‘interesting’ can have so many different inflections and interpretations, and in writing it doesn’t work, but because this is all free form thoughts I don’t go back and edit to get better wording. So “interesting” it is, no matter how much even *I* start to get sick of it)

You know, Travis is always ‘oh man I hate the shopping episodes’, but a lot of time he’s actually enjoying himself? Like, he LOVES the wacky NPCs that Matt makes, and he gets into the cool shit too. It seems like he tends to really lose focus during scenes that are 1) haggling, 2) debating a purchase, or 3) describing something like a detailed outfit.

I feel really bad for Travis, that Fjord got screwed with his journey to try and get information because of poor rolls, and then the group was heading there anyway, so he could have spent his two weeks doing something else.

I ADORE Beau going in for training, and then the first day is reading. Just the flat ‘what’ is SO GOOD

I love Liam roleplaying inventing new spells and learning new spells for automatic level ups, but I ALSO love Marisha roleplaying being trained and taught to learn her new monk techniques that she gets during level ups. SO GOOD

Uh oh, library moment, hopefully Matt summarizes and sends the detailed information over. Time count starts now: about six minutes exactly. Not bad! Holy shit, Dunamis is brought up here!!

Cree definitely does not feel as loose cannon here as she does once Lucien is back. He’s a bad influence! :P Though I wonder how much the Somnovem might be impacting her now versus when they’re actively working towards it.

Getting into the Jester madness now. I’m not sure I have the energy for this tonight, and unfortunately real life is going to be CRAZY, so I’m not sure when I’ll get to this next. HOPEFULLY tomorrow evening, but I might just be too damn tired. We’ll see! *checks time stamps* oh yeah, this is over half an hour of ridiculousness, definitely do not have the energy for it tonight.

Does anyone else feel like Nott’s voice is off this episode? I don’t know, for some reason it feels like Sam’s almost going too high in the falsetto? I felt it at the beginning too, but then I thought it smoothed out, but now it feels off again.

OH MAN, no WONDER Laura says “well that’s just fitting” when Matt suggests the Dawnfather. Another C1 reference that totally went over my head when I watched for the first time!

Huh, I forgot that Jester stole Cad’s straw hat for this. ...not actually a fan of Laura’s choice for that. Bit of a dick move, especially since Taliesin just had his bit getting it. I do feel better because she buys one for him later the same episode (which I had to look up because I wasn’t sure!), but it’s still not a choice that I’m a fan of.

Travelercon took almost 80 episodes to get there! Whoof, didn’t realize it’d been running so long!

Fjord Backstory, Fjord Plot, FJORD TIME

I feel like this is almost the best representation of Jester’s messages. But also, throughout the campaign, you really do see her improve her messaging, even when she still messes it up. They may be full of sillies, but they are nowhere near as rambly as they are in the beginning where it’s at least three messages to even get to the point.

Oh wowww...missed this the first time around, it’s definitely a hindsight think, but now that Nott’s willing to head back to Felderwin, she’s also pushing that Caleb is a lot stronger now, right? right?? and oooof. I love their relationship, and they both do ‘use’ each other, but this is a clear ‘using’ that just twists a knife a tiny bit. I also really like that Caleb noticed it right away and was asking if she’s okay.

I wonder, is this the only time that Caduceus makes healing potions? This was a thing with Keyleth too. I think they both learned how to make them, and then only ever did it once. (looking it up in the transcripts with the word “potion” said by Tal, it looks like this is the only time!)

LOL Marisha even talks about how she never used it! It don’t matter, Taliesin didn’t either!! XD

@suicidallyreckless

#critical role #the mighty nein #cr c2 rewatch #spoilers for c1 and c2 #short one this time around

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jaeminlore · 5 years ago

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Christmas in New York | Jisung

summary: is there anything more wonderful?

words: 2.9k+

category: not really a full story just a blurb, eloise at christmastime au, jisung as bill, eloise as eloise, nanny as nanny, lots of references to eloise at christmastime, looked at prizes of plaza rooms for this and geez, the reader is a female model from england, joanna fleming is one of my favorite designers, here’s the dress mentioned in the story

The Plaza. Ideally situated on Fifth Avenue. Elegance Unmatched.

At least, that’s how the website describes it. To Jisung, it’s just home, and work, and everything his life has been centered around since he was a child. Growing up in the service industry with parents who worked long nights as room service attendants, Jisung has always known hotel etiquette. He’s known hotel living, as he’s spent upwards of eight hours a day in rooms alone.

He knows all about guests and their preferred champagnes. He knows which rooms like heated towels and which ones ask for extra toilet paper. He knows how to keep oatmeal from becoming dry before he can get it to its appropriate room. He knows about the stock market and horse races and a bunch of other nonsensical things rich people seem to prattle on about for hours without a break.

He knows the names of bag designers and which ones to be especially careful with. He knows how to respond when he receives a tip. He knows how to hold his tongue when some rich old man tells him he doesn’t know “real work”. He knows when the ballroom isn’t in use; he knows how to sneak in and play the piano before the security guard catches wind.

During Christmastime, the Plaza is especially busy. Balls and galas and dinner parties and lodgings are booked every hour of every day. Employees work double shifts and sometimes triple, if there are enough demanding patrons. There a poinsettias everywhere (real, because the Plaza doesn’t do fake flowers) and red tablecloths the color of cranberries.

There’s some melody of Christmas songs being played in one of the many parlors, and the sound drifts through just enough vents to be caught by Jisung’s ear, as he makes his way to one of the many ballrooms — this one waiting to be decorated for Hanukkah. Jisung has silverware cleaned and ready to be set out, but other than that, the majority of the decisions are left to the hostess (a rich woman from Manhattan) and the official event planner, Prunella (who always seems to be in a sour mood, no matter what.)

After he lays the silverware down and asks a few questions about appropriate manners when refilling drinks, he leaves, desperate for a bit of respite before the Winter Gala being held in just a few hours.

His respite comes in the form of Eloise, a six-year-old child who lives in one of the apartments with her nanny. She lives on the sixteenth floor, though she prefers to refer to it as the tippy-top floor. Jisung prefers to refer to it as the only joyful room in the hotel; the only place where he is free to release his inhibitions.

Nanny (as she is so lovingly referred to) is a british woman, who is, apparently, the world’s best caretaker. At least, that’s what Jisung assumes. He knows how much Eloise’s mother pays for their apartment, and a wealthy home like this wouldn’t be left in the care of just anyone.

Eloise is another story entirely. Jisung has no idea if anyone can tame her (not that she needs any taming.) Of course, most put up with her shenanigans, but uptight guests find her erratic and intrusive behavior rather alarming.

Jisung finds her to be one of the most fun people he has ever meant. Of course, this could be said about most six year olds, but Jisung doesn’t know any other six year olds as well as he knows Eloise.

Eloise has a habit of getting into everyone’s heart, whether they want her to or not.

He knocks on the door, ready to serve Nanny’s evening tea, when the door is jerked open. Eloise appears, blonde hair covered in so much red tinsel that it looks like a wig. “Jisung, Jisung, Jisung, you are oh so late for Nanny’s evening tea. I have been waiting around for ages for you to help me plan my spectacular entrance tonight!”

“Tonight?” Jisung pretends to be surprised as he pours Nanny’s tea. “Are you attending the Winter Gala, Eloise?”

Eloise grabs a tea biscuit from off of Nanny’s saucer and stuffs the entire thing in her mouth. She answers his question, mouth still full. “Of course! Mother went to the gala every year when she was younger. I must, must, must carry on her legacy!”

Bits of biscuit crumbs spray onto Jisung’s lapels. He brushes them off as discreetly as he can. Catching Nanny’s apologetic glance, he winks. Then, with a swift bow, he puts on his “princely” accent — a little bit French and a little bit English. “Well, Miss Eloise, would you care to accompany me to the kitchens? I’m sure we can find some napkins to fold for the Winter Gala.”

Is Jisung trying to get out of his room service duties by working the gala? Yes.

Is Jisung trying to distract Eloise from the fact that she hasn’t been invited to the gala? Also yes.

Eloise’s eyes grow wide with excitement. Then, as if remembering she’s still pretending with him, she does a small curtsy. “Why, Mr. Park, I would absolutely adore coming to help with you.”

Jisung slips a few raisins onto the coffee table, where Skipperdee , Eloise’s pet turtle, resides. Weenie, the pug dog so beloved by Eloise and her nanny, bugs Jisung for his own treat, so Jisung digs a Pupperoni out of his pocket. “Then if you would so kindly take a seat astride my royal carriage, we shall make our way to the Terrance Room.”

The Terrance room is just as beautiful as it was described. The tables are lavishly decorated in burgundy velvet tablecloths. Wreaths of ivy and winter berries remind you of a winter forest. Lights fall from the ceiling, mimicking snow flakes mid-fall.

“It’s beautiful, Prunella,” One of the models in the tour group comments to the event planner.

You break away from the group and twirl around, imagining what it will be like to dance in the ballroom tonight, when the Winter Gala begins in full spring. You’ve been chosen to wear a gown by Joanne Fleming. It’ll be her designing debut at the Gala, as well as your modeling debut in America. The ballgown you’re wearing is an embroidered flower blouse tucked into a tulle and silk shirt. Perhaps your favorite part of the outfit is the red silk shirt underneath that features poet sleeves and an oversized bow neckline. Paired with hair and makeup, you’re bound to be just as good as the big names here.

You head down the steps away from everyone else, where a large tree stands tall, decorated with tinsel and red candles. Not lit, of course, as that would be a fire hazard. Your strain to see the topper atop the large, nearly ten foot tree. You back up, and with it nearly in your sight... you fall back into someone.

“Oh my gosh,” you squeal, as two hands grab you waist. As soon as they push you up, you whip around to apologize. “I am so sorry, I was trying to see what the tree topper, uh, was.”

You smile sheepishly at the boy. He’s clearly a waiter, based on his white tuxedo jacket paired with a gold-plated name tag. “Jisung,” you read. “That’s a lovely name.”

“It’s Korean,” the boy says, risking a smile at you. His eyes are wide, whether naturally or just at the fact that you fell on top of him, you don’t know. “I mean, because I’m Korean. I mean, not that you asked, it’s just... you said my name was lovely, so I thought you might like to know where it’s from.” He closes his mouth tightly after that and scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” you hold your hand. “I’m Y/n.”

Before he can shake your hand, Jisung is pushed away by a very small girl.

“Hello!” She grabs your hand and shakes it as vigorously as she can. “I’m Jisung’s best friend, Eloise. I am six.”

You giggle. “Hello, Eloise. What are you doing in a boring room in the middle of the day?”

“Jisung and I are folding napkins,” Eloise says, gesturing to the one (and only one, that you can see) napkin folded into a swan. “They’re for the Winter Gala tonight!”

“The Winter Gala?” You clap your hands together. “How wonderful! Will you be attending?”

“Unfortunately, Jisung and I have far too many duties here in the Plaza.” Eloise falls back against Jisung’s leg and drapes a hand dramatically over her forehead. “Why, if the two of us leave for just ten minutes, the entire hotel may fall apart!”

You look at Jisung for confirmation. The tall boy shrugs, his bow-shaped lips curled into a smirk. “She’s right. We’re kind of the glue of this entire place.”

“Ah,” you say as seriously as you can muster when Jisung has such a distinct twinkle in his eye.

He’s cute, you have to note, in the hustle of listening to one erratic six year old. He’s much taller than you, but it isn’t as intimidating as one might think. Perhaps it’s the way his shoulders slouch forward just a bit, or the obvious youth in his face.

“Well, if either of you would like to attend, I do have a few companion tickets,” you say, pretending not to care as you fiddle with your scarf. “Of course, I understand if you’re too busy holding this place together. It’s an important job, after all—“

“Are you kidding?” Eloise jumps up and yanks the scarf out of your hands. “You must, must, must allow us to go as your dates. Jisung and I will be on our best behaviors. I shall wear the gown my mother brought back from Milan last month. We went to a fashion show, and I threw up on Coco Chanel!”

You burst into laughter, despite the seriousness on Eloise’s face. “I’m sure that was quite an unforgettable show.”

“Indeed.” Eloise grimaces, ribbing her stomach.

“I have the night shift,” Jisung says, his deep voice so obvious when spoken right after Eloise’s pitchy one. “But they might place me here, so I can watch you. I mean, not watch as in leer, or anything. Just a drop by to say hello–“

“I would love it if you would, Jisung.” You clasp your hands in front of you. “Speaking of, I’m sure my stylists are having a fit. I’m about an hour late for all of my appointments, though it was worth it to meet the two of you.” You bend down to Eloise’s height. “I shall see you tonight?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll save you a dance,” you assure her. Then, straightening up, you glance at Jisung. “Shall I save you one as well?”

Jisung blinks. Perhaps the invitation goes directly over his head, but he averts his eyes and answers you, cheeks red with nerves. “That’s not necessary.”

“Oh.” His rejection seems a bit blunt, though you understand. You’ve just met, after all, and it isn’t like strangers to dance with each other upon first (second?) meeting. “Well, I’ll be seeing the two of you.”

Jisung hides in the kitchen, helping out when needed and playing mobile Fortnite on his phone when he’s asked to stay out of the way. He’s sure they might need extra waiters at the Gala, with all the hungry models and their plus ones. Plus, the drinks will be offered up soon, and Jisung wonders just when the Gala will turn into an all-out party. It’s possible that these things stay graceful until the end, but Jisung know how rich people can be around a good bottle of wine. And The Plaza has the best bottles around.

Eloise has already been taken home by Nanny, as her eight o’clock curfew doesn’t quite match up with the Gala’s full schedule. Jisung only knows that she left because she snuck into the kitchen, and just before Nanny found her, she had climbed atop the counter and licked a spoon full of meringue. “Y/n looks so beautiful, Jisung. You really must go dance with her.”

“I really must finish working,” Jisung had said, grabbing the spoon out of Eloise’s hand. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to see you after making a complete fool of himself earlier today.

It’s not like it matters, anyway. He’s a waiter; you’re a model. There are far more important men in your radar, he assumes. You won’t even notice if he doesn’t go.

So he doesn’t. He finishes his shift and takes his leave out the front door, where the snowfall greets him.

He has his own apartment; a little studio flat across town. It’s a subway ride away, and Jisung has come to find that one of his favorite parts of the day is his commute home.

But he stays outside a bit longer, watching as the carriage drivers begin to undo their horses’ harnesses. He watches the fake Santa Claus down the street ring a bell for the nearby children’s hospital. He listens to the taxicabs honk their horns as they disobey basic traffic laws.

“Thought you had to work.” It’s you again, your voice just as bright as it was this morning.

Jisung feels his heart drop into his chest when he spots you at the top of the stairs, dressed in a gown that makes you look like some sort of winter fairy. The ruby-colored fabric matches the makeup behind your eyes, and Jisung has to stop and stare at the way your eyebrows seem naturally dark and unkept. It fits your face, and he draws his eyes down to your lips, where a dark tint resides. “H-Hi. I just got off. Work, I mean.”

You giggle. It’s not a mean laugh, so Jisung tries to file that into the “not embarrassing” category. Then he remembers the words that pour out of his mouth daily, and he thinks he needs to reorganize his mental filing cabinet. “Well, I saved you a dance. Can’t imagine you’d want to go back into the ballroom though.”

“Drunk socialites?” Jisung guesses.

“How did you know?” You wink at him before descending down the steps. The hem of your dress gets wet from the snow, but you don’t seem to mind. Jisung has a feeling your designer will, but maybe that’s not his business.

“Lucky guess,” he drawls, shuffling his feet. “Sorry about the dance. I thought you were just saying that because Eloise was there.”

“I wasn’t,” you say. “I wanted to dance with you.”

“Wanted?”

“Still want to,” you correct yourself. “Do you think I would be out in the snow in a sheer blouse if I didn’t want to dance with you?”

Jisung feels his cheeks flush. The blood rushes to his cheeks, and then to his hands when you reach for them, tucking your fingers in the spaces between his and pulling him close to you. “You lead,” he rushes out. “I’m not very good at dancing.”

You hum. As the wind briefly subsides, he makes out the tune to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” You place one of his hands on top of your shoulder, and keep the other one in your grasp. “Tell me, Jisung, do you celebrate Christmas?”

“Yeah,” he says. “You?”

“Yeah.” You’re rubbing your thumb back and forth against his waist, urging him to move, but Jisung feels himself freeze up with the wind. Then you’re leaning forward, lips close to his ear and warm breath sending a sharp chill down his neck. “Relax.”

Jisung breathes in. Out. In again. He squeezes your hand and squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay,” and he follows your lead.

It’s a simple dance. A bit of a one-two thing going on. Jisung has never danced before in his life – never needed to, but he has natural rhythm, so he follows along without much complaint from you. “Do you dance with every waiter you meet?” He manages to joke.

You lift your joined hands and gesture for him to twirl beneath them. “Just the cute ones,” you say.

“And how many is that?” Jisung hates the waver in his voice. Hates that he manages to gain feelings so quickly. Hates that one (count it: one) nice person dances with him and suddenly he wants to be the only one they ever dance with.

“Just one,” you say, casually. Casually, but you avoid his eyes, and your grip slips just enough for Jisung to catch it. “Tell me, Jisung. Do you work tomorrow?”

“I’m off tomorrow,” Jisung says. “Christmas Eve, and whatever. Family things, you know.”

“Oh,” you say. “I leave tomorrow morning.”

“Family things don’t start until noon,” Jisung rushes. Heat returns to his chest as soon as you smile up at him. “We could have breakfast together. I know a nice place down the road. It’s not fancy by any means, but it’s really good. You’ll have to say goodbye to Eloise, too, of course. Maybe send her some letters when you return home. She loves getting mail–“

“Jisung, can I kiss you?”

Jisung feels himself nod before he can really register your words. By the time his mind finally catches up with his body, your lips are on his, smooth and chilled like a marble surface, and Jisung is shivering into your touch.

Your soft hands cup his face. You pull him down to your height, smiling at the way Jisung’s shaky hands clasp your waist.

When you pull away, you’re still smiling, so Jisung smiles with you. “I would like to send you letters, too. If that’s alright, I mean.”

Jisung sputters and shakes his head. He feels his heart pound as the wind picks up around him. “That’s more than alright.”

#dreamwritersnet #nct au #nct fluff #nct angst #nct scenario #nct scenarios #jisung au #jisung fluff #jisung angst #jisung scenario #jisung scenarios #destwrites #if this isn’t fully edited i’m sorry i have a cold and can’t focus

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vannahfanfics · 5 years ago

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Snowed In

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Gintama

Characters: Tae Shimura, Toshiro Hijikata

Requested By: 8579 (FanFiction)

“Good-bye, everyone! See you tomorrow!” Tae called cheerfully in the threshold of the door to the cabaret club while bundling her scarf about her neck. Her coworkers, and quite a few men in various degrees of inebriation, responded with resounding farewells as she finished tugging on her mittens and finally exited her workplace. As she inhaled, the cold, winter night air rushed up into her nasal passages; it tickled the sensitive membranes and caused her to sneeze. Frowning, she rubbed the underside of her nose with the edge of the mittens and shivered. “It’s freezing tonight… I had better get home quick!” she muttered to herself before starting a brisk pace for home.

A thin layer of snow crusted over the dirt streets. It crunched under the soles of Tae’s sandals like half-melted shaved ice as she trundled along the street. Every few seconds, a powerful breeze would howl down from the sky to blast through the Edo roads, striking Tae with enough fierceness to send her tumbling back. She hadn’t even rounded the block before she had tugged her scarf up over her mouth and nose and had her hands buried under her armpits. The thin curves of her round cheeks peeking above the knitted fabric were a blistering red, burning from the relentless bits of the ice-laden wind. The breath that leaked out of the knotted fibers fogged before her before being whipped away by the gales. Maybe I should have just waited out the storm at work. The weather forecast didn’t predict a blizzard or anything! She lamented as she continued her miserable trudge. The snow had already piled up around her ankles.

She yelped aloud as a particularly buffeting burst of wind knocked her a few paces back. The soles of her sandals slid over the slick, ice-encrusted sidewalk. She pinwheeled and cried out as she lost her balance; Tae then tipped backward with a final squeal and landed on her rump in the powdery stuff. A shiver crawled up her spine as the cold bit into her behind with thousands of pin-like teeth. The bottom half of her kimono eagerly soaked up the wetness of the snow, spreading even more of the jarring cold over her skin. She hastily- but carefully- clambered to her feet and shivered when the wind resumed its attack on her with gusto. Her normally kempt brown hair had been wrenched from her bun to flap erratically around her flushed, chapping face. The wind was shrieking with a fervor now, swirling the snow around wildly. She squinted into the maelstrom, but all she could see was white.

“Oh no,” she whimpered and bundled her sodden clothes as tightly as she could around her shuddering body. Home was a long, cold walk, but the way she came was a long, cold walk too. What she wouldn’t give for a deus ex machina to rescue her from this dismal situation. A gleaming knight in shining armor astride a gallant steed to spirit her away to a warm hearth and hot meal…

“You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess, haven’t you, cabaret girl?” Tae’s expression curled into something ghastly and horrid at the sarcastic voice floating upon the wind. It was less a gentle knight, and more a scheming gremlin crawling out of a nasty sewer. She glanced over her shoulder to see a simple wooden gate, squeaking as the wind lobbed it back and forth. Beyond that was a simple stone pathway mostly buried by the piling snow leading up to the wooden porch of a spacious house. Beyond that stood one Toshiro Hijikata, leaning in the threshold of his doorway, taking a drag from a cigarette and eyeing the girl with critical black eyes. “Hey, hey, hey, hey!” he protested angrily as she promptly began stomping down the sidewalk again.

“What?” She looked back to see that he had stumbled across his porch and had one hand wrapped around the support beam. The burning end of the bud clenched in his teeth glowed a burnt umber, casting orange light over his face. His scowl deepened when she acknowledged him. Tae’s eyebrow crept up when he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, with what she saw was the faint hint of a blush burning over his cheeks.

“… J-just get inside, dammit! There’s no sense in you walking around in a damn blizzard!” he barked at her. His face shone a rosy pink when he glared back at her. Tae gawked at him, admittedly suspicious. It wasn’t that she had anything against Toshiro, and it was much better than stumbling up to a stranger’s house begging for reprieve. However, he was a leading officer in the Shinsengumi and had historically had it out for the Yorozuya, even if the world nearly ending twice had mellowed him out a bit. Unsure, she mulled about on the sidewalk, prompting a vein to bulge out on his forehead. “What’s the problem? Don’t tell me you’ve frozen to the street.”

“Oh, hush, you!” she scolded and bundled her wet kimono about her thighs. There was nothing for it, and she knew that; this was as good as an invitation for hospitality she was going to get, and she ought to take it. Even if it’s this grumpy bastard, she thought snootily. Still holding her dripping wet kimono, she cautiously crept her way over the frozen ground of his yard before arriving at the porch. She kept her gaze on her toes the entire time, carefully selecting her footholds; when the ice-encrusted wood of the first porch step came into view, she gasped as a hand also appeared in her field of vision. She looked up at Toshiro with pink cheeks. He was clenching the cigarette tightly in his teeth and looking at her through his peripheral vision. As she hesitated, he shook his hand insistently.

“Come on, cabaret girl; I’m freezing my ass off.”

“My name is not ‘cabaret girl’! It’s Tae!” He winced when she grabbed his hand and squeezed it with much more force than necessary. Recognizing it as karma for his foulness, he swallowed the insult with grace and eased her up the porch. He released her hand once she was secure on the wood, but a deep part of Tae lamented the loss of his fingers enclosed around hers. She had felt them even with the woolen fabric of her mittens. His warmth still burned on her fingertips, fighting a valiant battle against the numbing cold that had invaded her nerves. Toshiro simply muttered “come on” and disappeared behind the screen of his front door. Rubbing her tingling fingertips with her opposite hand, Tae lingered a moment on the porch.

Have I possibly gotten myself into an even bigger mess?

The wind and snow had not an answer, only promises of more biting cold. Tae quickly bundled herself into the house.

Tae’s brown eyes were wide as she stalled in the entryway. From there, she could see most of everything, and she was impressed to find it an elegant and tidy abode. It was almost so neat and tidy, actually, that it was unsettling; it looked more like a house on the market than a proper residence, as Toshiro had very few personal possessions. Only the necessities abounded, like various articles of furniture, an outfitted kitchen, and a kotatsu table in the living room. She could not see his bedroom from her vantage point, but she wouldn’t be shocked to find it barren aside from a futon.

Just as Tae slipped out of her sandals, Toshiro came strolling around the corner, holding a bundle of cloth. Tae ogled at it in befuddlement, then slowly shifted her gaze up to him. He had that pink tint to his face again and was rubbing awkwardly at the base of his neck.

“You shouldn’t walk around wearing those wet clothes, so… Here,” he brusquely grunted and thrust the black fabric into her hands. It was then that Tae realized that he was handing her a kimono- one of his kimonos, to be exact. If she was cold before, that was no longer so, for a heated flush bloomed over her body from her head to her toes. An argument simmered on the tip of her tongue, but when she glanced down to find ice-cold water puddling around her feet, she reconciled with the fact that she would have to change into Toshiro’s clothes. He continued scrubbing at the base of his neck and gestured down the hall. “The uh… restroom is down that way…” he grumbled. Tae dipped her head respectfully and scurried off to get changed.

She could feel his gaze on her the entire time she shuffled down the hall, right up until the moment she flipped on the light and shut the door behind her.

She placed a hand over her heart to find its pace hammering. Why am I getting so flustered? It’s just Hijikata! She gulped, immediately realizing the folly of that statement. Toshiro Hijikata was a regular topic of conversation at the cabaret club, even more than he was a frequent visitor with the rest of the Shinsengumi. It was little wonder, of course, because the man was undeniably attractive. Even Tae couldn’t contradict it; luscious black hair, chiseled features, a high position in a steady job, and a bad-boy attitude? He was every girl’s fantasy. Of course, Tae knew the man much more personally than the rest of the cabaret girls; his foul manner could be quite grating. Still… He invited me into his home, and he loaned me his clothes, she thought while hugging the kimono to her chest. She could not help the tiny little smile that graced her chilled lips.

She might as well make the story as riveting as she could for when she recounted it to her coworkers tomorrow morning.

She peeled her kimono from her body, and it slipped to the floor with a wet slap! As she drew Toshiro’s black robe over her arms, she caught the faint whiff of cigarette smoke and enticing cologne. One would think the pungent aromas would make her hack and cough, but Tae found the scent oddly pleasant. She secured the sash around her middle, then frowned when she noticed how loosely the fabric hung from her small frame. She could solve the problem of the too-long sleeves just fine by rolling them up, but every few seconds, the cloth would slip from her shoulders and expose just a bit too much of the curves of her chest. I’ll have to be careful not to flash him like a common harlot, she thought with a click of her tongue as she held the baggy cloth to her chest and bent over to pluck her soiled clothes from the wood floor. There was a small puddle of water glistening on the polished surface, though the kimono had only been sitting there amount a minute. The bunched cloth was heavy in Tae’s hand. Tucking it underneath her arm, she turned and opened the sliding door-

and was greeted by a surprised Toshiro, who was holding his fist up mid-knock.

As she jumped, he flushed a pink color and stepped back from the door. “S-sorry…” An awkward silence descended between them, so she meekly held out the wet clothing.

“Is there somewhere I can hang this to dry?” He led her to his laundry room, where she laid her kimono over a drying rack. They migrated back to his living room, where they sat at opposite ends of the kotatsu table. He had prepared some hot tea while she was changing and had already poured her a cup. Tae took it with both her hands, appreciating the way the warmth blossomed across her cold palms. Toshiro lit up a cigarette and took a long drag, then exhaled the smoke between them. Tae watched disconcertedly as the thin white-gray wisps slowly rose to the ceiling before dispersing against the support beams. “… Thank you. It was very kind of you to invite me inside,” she said finally with a dip of her head. Toshiro regarded her with lidded black eyes.

“What was I supposed to do? Let you freeze to death?” he grunted, his gaze falling to his own cup of tea, which he had not touched. “I’d have no reason to visit the cabaret club anymore.”

They simultaneously blushed. Tae’s head snapped up to stare at him disbelievingly, but he had already turned to the side, staring at the wall with an embarrassed scowl. I thought the guys always dragged him along, but… Does he actually enjoy coming to see me? Tae was a spitfire, to be sure. Many of the other girls were sweet and charming, but Tae’s reputation was of playful feistiness. Thinking back, Tae was almost always requested to serve the Shinsengumi’s party; she had reasoned that it was Isao’s doing, but now that she really examined the experiences, sometimes it was just Toshiro in charge. A heat rose to her cheeks as she considered the possibility that it was the vice-captain behind her exclusive catering.

Toshiro’s fingers drummed against the table’s surface as the quietude descended once more. Tae glanced out the window to see the snow piling up on the sill. She rose and shuffled over to the glass pane, adjusting the kimono as it slipped from her shoulders. The whiteness blanketed everything in sight; the street was no more, just a swathe of the rolling powder, and the houses across the street were laden with heavy pillows of it. Faint sprigs of dead grass poked out of the layer in the yard, rapidly being buried by the second. The slippery pathway which Tae had traversed only minutes ago was completely submerged. I could end up staying the night here, she reasoned. The thought made her heart quiver, and the heat in her face increase substantially. Curiously, she peered out of her peripheral vision at Toshiro, and found his gaze fixated on her.

Tae thought that it might not be a bad thing to be snowed in with the handsome police vice-captain.

“Well,” she smirked finally, making him straighten up. She held the loose fabric of the black kimono to her chest as she turned to him. “Since you like visiting the cabaret club so much, why don’t we liven up the atmosphere? Surely you have some alcohol here,” she chuckled as his eyebrow quirked inquisitively. “I don’t know about you, but brooding is not exactly my idea of a night in.” She strolled back to the kotatsu table, making a point for the fabric to slip in just a way to unveil her milky-white thigh. “Unless, of course, Mr. Vice-Captain isn’t man enough to drink with me?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Three shared bottles of sake later, Tae was pink-faced and snorting piggishly with laughter. Her hand repeatedly slapped the surface of the table as she giggled uncontrollably. Toshiro had just said it, but she didn’t even know what was so funny. He had rounded the table to sit beside her, and she was leaning heavily into his shoulder.

“Ahahahaha!” she howled as she swiped tears from the corners of her eyes. Toshiro released a long, contented sigh and slammed the most recently emptied alcohol bottle on the table before looking down at her with flickering eyes.

“I can’t believe you accused me of brooding.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. ‘Oh, look at me, I’m so grumpy and serious,’” she jibed with an unflattering mimic of his baritone voice. His eyebrows dove down over his eyes, but her coy smirk revealed his amusement. “What was I supposed to think you do for fun? Certainly not drink with beautiful women such as myself,” she said haughtily and flipped her hair over her shoulder. It had long since fallen from her bun and cascaded in waves around her upper arms. She had also long since given up correcting the kimono every time it slipped, so the black fabric was now loosely bunched around her biceps. With the tops of her breasts peeking above the dark cloth, she certainly did look like a prostitute. She was too inebriated, or maybe confident, to care.

Toshiro purred and brought his face dangerously close to hers. Tae could smell the sake on his breath as he toothily leered over her.

“No, indeed. I’ve never had the pleasure. Those bungling oafs of mine always ruin it.” Sober Tae would blush and turn away, but drunk Tae was much less concerned with social propriety. Squealing, she clapped a hand to her blistering red cheek and shoved him in his thick shoulder.

“Oh, Toshiro! You tease!”

His voice rumbled in a purr with the intensity of a lion’s. A pleasurable shiver traveled up her spine at the sensation of his breath puffing against the shell of her ear.

“Tease? You presume too much; I’m being honest here,” he sighed in fake hurt. Tae giggled, girlishly holding her hand to her lips, her eyes rolling to peer at him through her peripheral vision. The smirk decorating his face was downright devilish. His eyes glimmered like obsidian, dark and dangerous and captivating. Tae was now wondering why she had possessed any inhibitions about Toshiro inviting her in. “Hey.” The sudden solemnness in his tone made her frown and glance up at him. His expression was suddenly very serious. “I am being honest, you know.”

The gravity of that utterance sobered Tae immediately. Flushing, she wrung her hands into the folds of the kimono but couldn’t bring herself to tear away from those smoldering eyes of his. His hand slowly reached up to lightly grab her chin, his thumb caressing the space just below her slightly parted lips. He tilted his head to the side and just stared, as if he were memorizing every detail of her face. The thought made another pleasurable tingle shoot through Tae’s nerves, but it was much more electrifying and exciting than the last. There was such an atmosphere of tension, of expectation, like the way the air crackles with energy before lightning strikes. She drew in a breath and held it, for she already knew what he was about to ask.

“Tae.” His voice was soft and inviting. Oh, how it drew her in. It felt like she was descending into warm water, floating in the dense space. She found her eyes threatening to flutter closed already, intoxicated on the deep bass of his voice alone. “Stay with me.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was the knowledge of the snow piling high outside, and the shrieking wind rattling the glass windowpanes, and the depressing gray clouds choking the night sky. Perhaps it was the excited gossiping of the girls at work every time Toshiro strolled through the door, accompanied by his posse of police officers. Perhaps it was all of that, but it was also most definitely the fact that her heart had been palpitating from the moment she stepped through the door.

“Of course.”

The moment his lips met hers, it felt like the entire world fell into place. It was just so incredibly natural, almost as if it had been a moment that Tae had waited her whole life for. A soft sigh slipped out of her, and her body sagged with contentment. Toshiro’s sturdy arms wound around her waist when she fell against him; so immersed in the kiss was she that it seemed too burdensome even to keep herself sitting up.

Their mouths moved together in sync, slow at first. Then the hunger and passion oozed in. Soon their lips were feverishly smashing and their teeth gnashing and their tongues dancing. Tae’s hand traipsed up his back to curl firmly into the straight strands of his black hair, coiling them continuously around the slim digits. She gasped when he sealed her brunette locks between his fingers and pulled, just hard enough to coax her head back but not enough to heart. Her eyelashes fluttered lasciviously when he began raining sloppy kisses across her jawline and down the column of her neck. “Toshiro,” she whined when he pressed a searing, enduring kiss to her collarbone. He nudged her body with his own, and she obeyed the silent command, falling back against the floor. He loomed over her, ceasing his incessant affections to stroke the soft skin that had been revealed by the loose kimono.

“I suppose it’s a little late to say that you’re beautiful,” he smirked down at her. Tae snorted, rolled her eyes, and shifted her hands down to his biceps.

“Maybe so, but a girl still likes to hear it.” He plucked one of her hands up and brought it to his mouth, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to her palm. His eyes never left hers. It was so gratifying, that cherishing gaze of his, that she found herself smiling warmly. He finally pried his lips from her skin and pressed her hand against his cheek, then shifted so that his body pressed against her. It felt like her every curve locked so perfectly into place with the rugged landscape of his form. He swept some of her hair away from her face, then traced a finger down her jawline.

“I gotta say,” he smiled wryly. “I never actually thought I’d find myself in this situation.”

“Hard to believe that Toshiro Hijikata, vice-captain of the Shinsengumi, has been so afraid to tell a girl he likes her,” she teased, and stuck out the tip of her tongue when he scowled. She yelped when he pinched it between his fingers. “Ow! I’ne thorry!” she pleaded when she failed to tug it away from him. When he released her, she began laughing at the informality of it all.

“I gotta say,” she grinned when she finished snickering. “I never thought I would find myself in this situation, either.”

“You regret it?” His face had retaken on that serious note. Tae smiled wider and snuggled against him, shaking her head.

“No. Not at all. One thing, though.”

“What?”

“You’re taking me out for a proper date tomorrow.”

Toshiro smiled in amusement and leaned down to press a little kiss to the tip of her nose.

“You’re too bossy for your own good,” he purred. Naturally, their lips molded back together for a passionate embrace. Outside, the snow continued to fall and blanket the world in cold, cold white; but for that night, Tae found herself the warmest she had ever been.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork

#hijitae #hijikata x tae #tae x hijikata #toshitae #toshiro x tae #tae x toshiro #toshiro hijikata #hijikata toshiro #toushiro hijikata #hijikata toushiro #toushirou hijikata #hijikata toushirou #shimura tae #tae shimura #otae #o-tae #gintama #gintama fanfiction #gintama fanfic

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hollandspiderling · 5 years ago

Note

For the blurb night: Reader is having a bad day, so Peter takes her out to look at all the holiday decorations in NYC, ending with the Rockefeller Christmas tree lighting 🎄

I’ve always wanted to see the Rockefeller Christmas Tree Lighting or even NYC during the winter time! I really hope I did this justice and I hope you like it! ❤ xoxo, Astrid.

----

Wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself, you sighed as another YouTube video passed through on your laptop. You had just texted Peter about the horrible day you had, and he still hasn’t replied. The screen showed that he had read it and you pouted to yourself. Peter was the type of guy that was quick to reply, and you assumed that he was only lagging due to being the friendly neighborhood Spiderman. The flurry of negative thoughts began to consume your mind once more and you groaned as you pulled the blanket over your head. If he wasn’t going to reply anytime soon, then the best choice you had was just sleeping your sadness away.

The sound of your window being pushed open caught your attention and you peeped through your blanket to find Peter climbing in. He had a red beanie on his head and was all layered up with a coat over one of his signature flannels and black jeans. Your eyes softened and slightly smiled to yourself. His eyes met yours as he jumped down and a chuckle escaped his lips. Shaking off some of the snow that had gotten on to him, he went over to you and bent down to kiss you on the forehead.

“Aw my poor baby girl, you’ve had a pretty rough day huh?” he asked softly as he sat down on your bed.

You nodded and he smiled softly as you wrapped your arms around him. A contented sigh left your lips as you immediately began to feel all the stress and anxiousness leave your body as you took in his presence. He ran his fingers through your hair, and you snuggled closer to him. Peter rested his head on top of yours and he kissed your temple.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“A little bit, can’t you get comfortable with me so we can cuddle all night?” You pouted.

Peter shook his head and got up from your bed. You groaned as you ended up flopping over and he laughed.

“As much as I would like that, c’mon I have something planned for us. You need to get dressed first.”

You raised an eyebrow as you watched him make his way over towards your closet and began to rummage through it. He was throwing outfit choices at him and you could only stare at him suspiciously.

“Peter Parker, what did you plan?”

He smiled cheekily at you and said, “Get dressed sweetheart and you’ll find out.”

Low and behold, Peter never failed to surprise you. Once you got dressed, the both of you guys headed towards Central Park where he bought both of you hot chocolate. He watched as you took a sip from the warm drink and a small smile crept onto your face.

“There’s that pretty smile that I’ve been missing today.”

You smiled shyly as he took your hand into his and began to lead you somewhere else.

“Peter, are you serious?!” you exclaimed as he led you to a horse-drawn carriage.

It was reserved for the both of you and once the both of you got on, you looked up at him in surprise to see what he had prepared. There was a soft blanket to keep you warm from the cold and a small basket filled with all of your favorite snacks. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and shrugged.

“I just wanted to make sure my girl was happy. I also wanted to remind her that she is loved and that she deserves the best, no matter what.”

You were speechless and could only manage to kiss Peter on his cheek before hugging his arm.

“Thank you, Pete…”

“Only for you, Y/N.”

The two of you spent an hour or so going through the streets of New York and marveling at all of the different Christmas lights that were hung. Tom watched you as you stared wide-eyed over everything. You were always so starstruck whenever Christmas came around and he was glad that his plan was going accordingly. The way that you excitedly chattered about your family’s traditions for the holidays and your childhood memories made his heart warm in the cold weather. As you finished up one of your stories, you noticed him staring and you smiled at him.

“Why are you staring at me?”

He shook his head and pecked you on the lips. “Because you’re absolutely beautiful.”

You blushed as the carriage slowly came to a stop and he laughed at your reaction once you noticed where you guys were being dropped off at. You were at the Rockefeller Center for its tree lighting and you excitedly bounced in your seat.

“Are we finishing off the night with this? Oh Pete, you didn’t have to do all of this… But oh my god, Peter we’re going to see the tree lighting!”

He nodded before laughing at your adorable reaction You immediately grabbed his hand with your basket snuggled in the other arm and hopped off the carriage to try finding a good spot to stand in. You hugged Peter as light snow began to fall as the countdown begun. Both of you smiled widely as the humungous tree lit up with life and everyone began to cheer.

“Peter, you are truly the best thing ever. Thank you for always looking out for me…”

He kissed your forehead and said, “I’ll do anything for you, Y/N. You’re my one and only.”

#blurb night ⛈#astrids blurb night #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #nonny blurb #lovely nonny

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aleteia-ff · 5 years ago

Text

The Last Snoggletog | Phantomverse Snoggletog One-Shot

Also read on: AO3, FF.net

Summary: Four winters after the Phantom has stopped haunting them, Berk celebrates Snoggletog. Finding that perhaps, in many ways, the Phantom is still with them after all.

Set after the events of The Phantom of the Arena, and about half a year before those of the sequel (currently WIP), The Phantom of the Archipelago.

A/N: Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it! I am very happy to be back in the Phantomverse with a little story for the holidays. This one-shot is set after the events of the Phantom of the Arena and hence contains major spoilers for that story.

It is also set about half a year before the events of the sequel I am working on as I post this – The Phantom of the Archipelago…

Winter storms were a yearly recurrence on Berk. They were sudden, unpredictable, gripping you with full force before you properly realised what you’d gotten yourself into. Their strong winds released torrents of snow right in your face, making your skin feel as if it was being grazed by ice while you slowly lost any sense of feeling in your fingers. No number of layers of clothes would help, they all became soaked through more quickly than you expected them to, after which they’d freeze to your limbs, turning your skin red and finally blue. The only thing you could do was look for shelter, hoping, praying to the Gods that they’d cease their torment and allow you to make it through the night.

Astrid Hofferson wasn’t sure which alternative was worse. The snowstorms the Gods brought down upon them, or dealing with the blizzard that was a three-year old on Snoggletog Day.

“Mummy!”

She felt something pull on her sleeve and looked down into a pair of big, absurdly green eyes, surrounded by a smattering of freckles all belonging to Hamish Hofferson. She was about to open her mouth to tell him off when he was whisked away by a pair of hands that weren’t hers.

“What did we say about going near the fire?” her mother scolded Hamish, lifting him up under his armpits and looking at him with a strict expression.

Astrid didn’t need to see Hamish’s face to know he was pouting. “But -”

“No, Hamish, what did we say?” her mother insisted.

Hamish’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s dangerous.”

“Right,” her mother nodded. “So don’t do it.”

“But I wanna know when Odin’s coming!” Hamish squirmed, twisting his head to look at his mother.

Astrid rolled her eyes and smiled to herself as she stirred the pot in front of her. He definitely hadn’t been asking her that question non-stop since this morning.

“Grandpa Stoick isn’t here yet,” she reminded him. “He has to make sure everyone is okay first.”

“Cause he’s the Chief!” Hamish beamed as if he was the only one in the room who was aware of that information.

“Exactly,” her father nodded, scratching his brown beard. “And Odin doesn’t deliver presents if you’re watching.”

“Why not?” Hamish asked.

Because none of it is true, Astrid mused to herself, blowing on the ladle and taking a sip. She pondered for a moment before turning to her mother. “Mom, do you think this needs more yak?”

“I’m sure it tastes great, honey,” her mother instantly replied.

She tasted again, really letting the beverage simmer on her tongue, and nodded to herself. “Yeah, I actually think this might be my best batch of yaknog yet!” Who knew she could actually learn how to cook? Let alone come up with her cup of holiday cheer.

“Why not?” Hamish asked.

“Because he doesn’t want to be seen,” her mother tried.

“Uncle Tuff saw him,” Hamish retorted.

Her mother rolled her eyes, but her father played along. “Oh, did he?”

“Yes!” Hamish insisted as his grandmother put him down. He bounded over to his grandfather’s chair. “He says he looks like a troll.”

“And what do trolls look like, then?” Astrid’s father humoured him, ruffling Hamish’s auburn hair - as if it wasn’t messy enough already - before lifting him onto his lap, Hamish’s boots landing on his grandpa’s knees.

“Dunno,” Hamish shrugged, his shoulders moving more than they should.

“Because they aren’t real,” her mother cut in.

Hamish adamantly shook his head. “Uncle Gobber says they are! They steal socks.”

“And do they have any preference? Red socks, blue socks, brown socks?” her father asked.

Hamish furrowed his brows for a moment, leaving the room simmering with anticipation.

“Left socks,” he finally decided.

Astrid considered for a moment whether she should enlighten Hamish about how Gobber didn’t have a left foot, but since her mother also simply shook her head, she decided they could do with a little less Hofferson-realism for the day.

“I looked for them with Grandpa Stoick!” Hamish continued.

That was news to her. “Didn’t Grandpa Stoick take you fishing?” Stoick had needed the break after Black Plague Friday - they all did - and had been kind enough to take Hamish with him upstream.

“Fishing’s boring,” Hamish stated, as if the food he was served every day simply appeared out of thin air. She could agree with the sentiment though. The amount of time she could save if she still had Stormfly…

But that was something she could only dream of.

While Hamish started to ramble about his latest adventures, she redirected her attention to the large pot in front of her, noting that the yaknog had thickened enough, but was still bubbling slightly. Meaning it was absolutely perfect.

“Hamish,” she called, prompting the excitable ball of fluff to look up at her. “Do you want to help me hand out some yaknog outside?”

Hamish’s face lit up with a bright smile, and he nodded. “Yes!”

“Go get your clothes, then,” she ordered. Hamish instantly jumped off his grandfather’s lap and ran to the bedroom.

Her mother took the ladle from her, filling the mugs Astrid had borrowed from the Great Hall while Astrid held them up and arranged all but five of them on her favourite festive shield. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a pile of clothes waddling back out of her parents’ bedroom, unable to see where it was going.

She put the tray of yaknog down on the table, shaking her head and picking her favourite bundle of furs up from the floor, separating him from his outdoor clothes and putting them both on a chair. Hamish was surprisingly compliant, only swinging his legs back and forth while she bound a festive red scarf the same colour as his tunic around his head and pulled a dark green knit cap over his ears, his unruly auburn hair sticking out at the bottom. She wrapped him up in his fur coat and a pair of mittens and pulled on his outfit until she was sure there were no more gaps through which he could get cold.

She dressed herself and handed Hamish one of the mugs after he jumped off the chair. “Be careful, it’s hot, okay? Keep it in both of your hands and watch your feet.”

Hamish nodded as well as his scarf allowed him too, staring at his mug like a mother dragon at her favourite hatchling. “Yes Mummy!”

She pulled up the hood she’d now owned for almost four years and took the tray from the table before turning to her parents. “If it goes as fast as last year, we won’t be long. If you need us, I don’t think we’ll head outside of the village centre.”

“Take as long as you need, dear,” her mother reassured her, taking care of the now-empty pot. “We’ve got all day.”

“Just don’t be surprised if we finish our mugs before you get back!” her father added, standing up to open the door, and her mother nodded along with the kind of enthusiasm rarely seen from Sigrid Hofferson.

Astrid grinned. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t!”

She shivered for a moment when they stepped outside, figuring that this was the kind of cold no one ever really got used to. But experience had taught her that if you simply sucked it up and endured for long enough, it wasn’t quite so bad.

They walked through the village centre, its streets busy with celebrating Berkians despite the light snow, and handed out mugs of warm yaknog to anyone who liked to have some. She’d expected Hamish to bound off to jump into one of the piles of snow as soon as he could, but to her surprise he actually stayed at her side, eagerly taking a new mug from her tray after he’d managed to charm someone into accepting the one he had.

Astrid knew all too well how hard it was to say no to his big, green eyes. She’d thought Toothless begging for fish was the worst she’d have to deal with in her life, but Hamish had quickly proven her wrong. She was starting to get better at saying ‘no’ however. She didn’t want to end up like Snotlout after all. Little Solveig had managed to completely wrap her father around her finger and leave Ruffnut to do the actual parenting. In her own Thorston way.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered what kind of parent Hiccup would be around Snoggletog. He’d probably be up all night, last-minute trying to finish the perfect gift, all exhaustion fading away when Hamish found it the following day, his face lighting up with the kind of beaming smile that was unique to their son.

She silently scolded herself. She shouldn’t think about things like that. Especially not today.

By the time they reached the village square, the Snoggletog Tree proudly standing in the middle of it, they had already handed out half of the mugs, Hamish’s sales technique surprisingly effective. Most Berkians took the beverage back home with them, telling her they’d rather take their time and enjoy it by the fire. She felt it was a compliment - at least they didn’t jug it down the way they did with mead. They actually made an effort to enjoy it.

And they no longer scowled at her the way they had the first year she’d been back on Berk.

She’d missed the first Snoggletog after the Phantom had left Berk. She’d been out looking for Hiccup, desperately hoping she could tell him he was going to be a father. But she hadn’t been lucky enough to succeed. And when she returned she had to deal with a village that scowled at her when her pregnancy became more visible and she could no longer hide her growing belly with loose-fitting shirts and dresses.

She could take the stares, she could deal with the disapproval. But she didn’t want Hamish to be a victim of her bad decisions more than he already was. She wanted him to have a normal childhood to the extent that he could. So she did whatever she could to help out the village, in spite of the judgement she received. Serving everyone yaknog was just one of the things she did, and judging by people’s reactions and how, as they reached the village square, none of the parents complained when Hamish instantly rushed off to play with their kids, it had worked.

She briefly chatted with Gobber after she’d run out of yaknog, listening to his lecture on all the ‘grand surprises’ he’d cooked up for the feast tonight. That kind of defeated the point of it being a surprise, but his descriptions made her mouth water enough for her not to mind.

She caught up with Heather and Fishlegs, who really seemed to be regretting setting their sights on a Spring wedding. Even though Heather had practically been living with Fishlegs ever since she’d moved to Berk, there were a lot more eyes on them now that they were properly engaged. Meaning that they’d lost a part of their freedom and were expected to stick to the tradition of staying celibate until they were properly married. Heather was one of the only people who dared to - and was allowed to - joke that perhaps, Astrid and Hiccup should have been a little more ‘traditional’ as well. Which was ironically illustrated by Astrid spotting Hamish in the corner of her eye, starting to scale up the Snoggletog Tree, and her having to rush over to pluck him off it.

He could climb just fine, his mittens not limiting him at all. Getting down was the problem. She feared he would break one, if not both, of his legs one of these days. As Stoick put it, the boy suffered from a heart-stopping combination of Astrid’s athletic intuition, Hiccup’s curiosity and, of course, his lack of danger assessment.

She supposed one of the upsides of dragons hardly being seen these days was that Hamish couldn’t jump off the back of one. Because he definitely would.

She had to tug Hamish back by his coat a few more times while hearing Tuffnut out about all the ‘absolutely wicked’ stuff he’d treated himself with in this year’s Black Plague Friday sales. Her son finally seemed to lose interest when Ruffnut and Snotlout came over with Solveig proudly cradling an over-sized stuffed rabbit to her chest. As if the girl didn’t own enough stuffed animals yet.

“Looks like someone’s spine tragically broke on Black Plague Friday,” she teased, grinning as Hamish immediately started curiously poking the rabbit. “How Gothi manages to patch you back up again every time is beyond me.”

Snotlout only managed to muster up a guilty smile in response, prompting Ruffnut to roll her eyes and lightly slap his biceps. “I told him before they went out! She has enough toys already, and it’s not like she’s not getting anything new today.”

“She’s my little princess, okay!” Snotlout offered, putting up both of his hands. “Whatever she wants, she gets.”

Ruffnut audibly sighed. “Even princesses have to learn how to share.”

“Exactly!” Tuffnut nodded. “Ruffnut and I had to share every present we got!”

“You did not!” Snotlout rebuked.

“Oh yes, we did! Every sword -”

“I know you’re pulling my leg, Tuff.”

“- every axe -”

“I’ve been married to a Thorston for over four years, I can smell your family’s shit by now!” Snotlout cut in, while Ruffnut shook her head and mouthed the words he can’t to Astrid.

“Even Macey!” Tuffnut gestured wildly, slicing the air in front of him. “Right through half!”

“Why do I put up with you again?”

“You just don’t know the sorrows of being a true Thorston! You may have married into it, but you’re not really living it.”

“And why do I let you look after my daughter?”

Tuffnut proudly crossed his arms over his chest. “Because I’m the best babysitter on this entire island. That’s why.”

“He is,” Astrid instantly concurred.

“Yup.” Ruffnut clapped her husband’s shoulder, making Snotlout visibly wince. “No argument there, hot stuff.”

“Well now that that’s cleared up -” Tuffnut continued despite Snotlout’s insistent glare.

“Grandpa!”

Hamish shot right past them, snow flurrying up as he rushed into the wide-spread arms of Stoick the Vast, an unstoppable force tackling an immovable object with a hug.

“Hamish!”

“That’s my cue,” Astrid smiled, tucking her tray-shield under her arm. “See you tonight.”

The others waved and said their goodbyes as she walked over to Stoick and Hamish, the latter already babbling excitedly.

“Mama! Grandpa says Odin came with presents!” he smiled.

She exaggeratedly pulled up her eyebrow. “Oh, did he? Then we just missed him!”

Hamish’s face clouded slightly and she smiled at him, poking his cute nose. “But you helped me hand out yaknog to the entire village. So I’m sure Odin’s proud of you.” She kissed his cheek. “I know I am.”

That seemed to put Hamish at ease, his worries soon forgotten as Stoick lifted him up on his shoulders, the view from up high never ceasing to amaze him. She got that. She knew all too well how different the world looked from above. It was something she didn’t simply forget.

They made their way back to her parents’ house, their mugs of yaknog already empty and Hamish’s completely forgotten when he spotted his helmet by the now low-burning hearth. He surged towards it as soon as Stoick put him down, leaving Astrid to fall to her knees behind him and take off his snow-soaked outer clothes while he dug in.

Her parents had stuffed Hamish’s helmet, which was still too large and slid over his eyes when he actually wore it, with sweets he liked, along with a small but high-quality wooden sword, Hamish’s initials carved into the hilt. H.H. Like his father, and the ancestors he’d been named after, before him. Just the H for Hofferson instead of the last name he should have had.

She managed to tug Hamish’s coat over his arms just before he started swinging the sword around, clearly already in love with his gift. She shared a look with her parents, taking in their delighted gazes, and smiled back at them, silently thanking them. For more than just today.

The next present Hamish found was her own; a bundle of papers, bound in brown leather, with a charcoal pencil tucked between the pages. The same kind of booklet as the one Hiccup always carried with him.

Hamish picked it up with care, feeling the leather beneath his fingers. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him back into her chest, looking over his shoulder and slowly closing her hands around her gift so she could show him the empty pages.

“It’s a notebook,” she explained, taking the pencil and drawing a single line onto the paper to demonstrate. “People write stuff down in it they think is important, or need to remember. Uncle Fishlegs has a lot of them. That’s how he knows so much. And Grandpa Stoick does the same.”

Hamish, eyes filled with wonder, glanced back at Stoick, who nodded along with her story.

“And Daddy, he…”Don’t talk in past-tense, she reminded herself. “… he does the same. Whenever he sees a new dragon, or finds out something about them he didn’t know yet, he makes notes for himself. Because he’s very smart, but he also forgets things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you remember what Gronckles eat, right?”

Hamish nodded enthusiastically. “Rocks!”

“Yes, all kinds of rocks. Daddy knew that, and he’d written down how much fish Gronckles could eat too, but he encountered this Gronckle he wanted to befriend. And there weren’t a lot of edible rocks around, so he thought he could feed him fish for this one day. Later that night, Daddy found out that was not a good idea, at all,” she laughed. “Do you know what happens to Gronckles if they eat too much fish?”

Hamish shook his head and she leaned in, whispering in his ear as if she was telling him a secret. “They love the fish. But it makes them fart, a lot.” Hamish started giggling, so she threw in a bit more of her high-quality humour. “It smells really bad. And Daddy had to spend the whole night in a cave with that Gronckle.”

“Poor Daddy,” Hamish chuckled.

“Yeah, your Dad’s a bit of a dummy like that sometimes,” she smiled, hugging Hamish closer. If only those had been the worst mistakes Hiccup had made.

“But what he also does, is drawing pictures,” she continued, more seriously. “It’s Daddy’s Book of Dragons after all, that we have at home. The one I read you from, with all the dragon drawings you love. Daddy didn’t just write the words, he drew all of the dragons too. And he has many more sketches, especially of Toothless.”

“Whoa,” Hamish gaped.

“It’s pretty cool, right?” She nodded against Hamish’s shoulder. “And now you and I can draw together too.”

Hamish clapped his hands in excitement. “And show Daddy and Toothless when they’re home!”

She could feel the eyes of the other adults in the room on her. Concerned, as if she didn’t have to deal with this every day. As if by now, she hadn’t gotten used to telling half-truths to the person she loved most in the entire world.

She simply closed the sketchbook and cuddled Hamish as tightly as she could. “Of course. They’ll love them. Toothless knows talent when he sees it.”

“Toothless is smart.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she concurred. “Smartest dragon I ever met. He draws too, but he can’t hold a pencil with his claws, so he draws in the sand with his tail and a stick.”

“I love sticks!”

She smiled to herself, shaking her head. If only life was always so simple. “So what do we say now? Who do we thank for the gifts?”

“Odin.”

“So we say…?” she continued when Hamish looked up at her. “Than…”

“Thank you, Odin!” Hamish completed, before looking back at his grandparents. “Did you see him?”

Her father shook her head. “No. We were upstairs. He must have sneaked in through the chimney!”

Hamish looked up in wonder, and Astrid just knew he was trying to figure out if he’d fit through the chimney himself. She was sure he did, and that she would have to watch him even more closely in the coming days.

“But I do think we heard something in the bedroom while we were there, didn’t we?” her father continued, looking at her mother, who nodded along but stayed silent. “Shall we take a look?”

Hamish nodded in excitement, his other presents temporarily forgotten as he jumped to his feet and let Grandpa Arne lead him into the bedroom. Astrid heard his delighted squeal not much later, which she knew had been in reaction to a rocking horse that’d been made to look like a dragon, even with a small set of wings. Stoick had put more time and effort into it than his duties allowed for. But he’d reassured her that he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Spoiling Hamish was the only way he could try to repay the debt he felt he had towards Hiccup, after all.

“Arne and I play along, Chief,” her mother remarked, all too aware Hamish was out of earshot and preoccupied. “But I do want to make it clear that I don’t approve.”

“I know, Sigrid,” Stoick simply said.

Her mother pursed her lips, clearly not getting the answer she was looking for.

“Mom, do we really have to do this today?” Astrid tried. “Again?”

“If not today, then when?” her mother argued.

“I don’t know, I don’t think it’s a problem to begin with, so I don’t see why we need to have this discussion. As if we’ve never had it before.”

“Both of you -” Her mother gestured to her and Stoick. “- can see how dangerously much he resembles Hiccup. He’s already obsessed with dragons, and you’re only feeding it further with your stories and these kind of presents.”

“Being like Hiccup isn’t dangerous,” Stoick countered.

“A lot of the village disagrees,” her mother threw back.

“And they’re part of the reason he became dangerous,” Astrid hissed. “And what else would you have me do? Just not mention his father? Hamish is smart, he’d start asking questions eventually. I’d rather be ahead of him.”

“You could’ve told him his father’s dead,” her mother bluntly said. “It wouldn’t be an exception for a Berkian kid.”

“Hiccup’s not dead,” Stoick cut in before Astrid could, the room cooling down due to the iciness hardly ever heard in Stoick the Vast’s voice.

It left her mother completely unfazed. “Chief, we haven’t received a sign of life from your son in over a year.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s dead,” Astrid snapped. Sure, there had been obvious signals that Hiccup was still alive, in the first few years… A ripped out eye-ball or two, a severed piece of skin, all belonging to the Red Death and delivered to Berk overnight to make a point. Brought here by dragons, she presumed. She didn’t want to believe that Hiccup had been on Berk himself without checking in on her. And on the son he didn’t know he had.

“I’m just afraid you’re setting him up for disappointment,” her mother said, more silently now. “We can’t keep pretending Hiccup will come back for the rest of his life while he doesn’t. Like you said, Hamish is smart.”

“We’ll fight that dragon when it rears its ugly head,” Stoick decided, sounding more like the Chief of Berk, and less like family. It was the way their arguments always ended.

Astrid got up from the floor, wiping some of her hair out of her face and looking at her mother. “I can’t just forget about him, or his dream. Our dream.” A world safe enough for dragons. “I’m not going to raise another Berkian dragon killer, that’s not how this works, that’s not what Hiccup would want, and neither do I. I know it’s overly sentimental, I know it doesn’t necessarily make sense, but…”

She fisted one of her hands in her skirt, averting her gaze. “It’s just not that simple. Of course I wish Hiccup were here, especially this time of year. Snotlout and Ruffnut get to spend all day with Solveig, even Spitelout being slightly tolerable for the occasion, and meanwhile I’m here pretending Hiccup cares about Hamish as much as all of us.”

She bit her lip, wiping her eyes. “It’s not fair. None of it is.” She stared into the fire so she wouldn’t glare at the woman who’d raised her and who she’d relied on so much the past four years. “And you don’t need to enlighten me on how it was Hiccup’s own choices, and mine, that got us here. I know that. Better than anyone else.” She shook her head. “But there’s nothing I can do about it. I tried. I’m still trying, every single day.”

It was becoming less difficult. Slightly. But she doubted the pain would ever really go away.

She felt a large hand on her shoulder, undoubtedly Stoick’s, and leaned into his comforting touch. “We all know what it’s like to miss someone you love this time of year,” he softly said. She knew he wasn’t just talking about Hiccup. Stoick had lost more friends and family than she could imagine. “But the only thing we can do when they can’t be here for the holiday, is celebrate them. It’s what they’d want us to do.”

She could only agree with that. And when Hamish burst back in, dragging his newest toy out of the bedroom and proudly showing it to everyone, her mother resigned herself to it as well. It was their burden to bear, after all, not Hamish’s.

Her son was simply happy, his bright and bubbly smile lighting up the room. And that was all that really mattered.

------------------------------------------------------------

Gobber most certainly hadn’t lied about all the effort he’d put into the Snoggletog feast. He had practised absolutely zero self-constraint, and as a result, this was easily the best year yet. Roasts, stews, vegetables from the lands they had finally been able to cultivate now that the dragons didn’t destroy their fields at least once a month. And the bread, Gods, the bread… She had to get the recipe. It was criminally delicious.

Astrid couldn’t remember the last time she had been this full. And none of this, a feast this grand and lavish, would have been possible if it hadn’t been for Hiccup and his efforts to keep the Red Death occupied.

Not that anyone felt the need to thank him for that. Hiccup wasn’t publicly mentioned in general, his existence ignored, the truth about the Phantom and the accompanying question of who would succeed Stoick as Chief too sensitive to casually discuss. But they knew as well as she did who was responsible for Berk’s newfound prosperity. She could tell by the looks the villagers gave her, and her son.

All of it went over Hamish’s head, of course, who was completely unaware of how many people kept an eye on him as Tuffnut tried to teach him and Solveig how to dance. Not far away from them, Heather and Fishlegs set a good example - they hadn’t missed an occasion to dance since that very first time, when Hiccup had paired them up at Snotlout and Ruffnut’s wedding. Looking towards the other side of the dance floor, she spotted Spitelout, who was watching his granddaughter with obvious dismay.

She smirked and shook her head. How petty, being grumpy over two toddlers. It wasn’t as if they were getting married. Now that would be a disaster. A Jorgenson and a Hofferson. Right.

“Enjoying the view?” Ruffnut quipped, sitting down next to her on her bench and leaning back against the table, a mug in her hand.

“Well, they do look adorable, don’t you think? Better than them starting to pull on each other’s hair again.”

“Tuffnut’s surely got a way with them,” Ruffnut nodded. “But I was actually talking about the look you were giving my lovely father-in-law.”

She snickered. “He hasn’t grown on you yet either?”

“Oh, he has. Like a splinter in my spleen, slowly forcing its way in and festering until it smells and hurts so bad you’d rather drive a knife through your chest.” Ruffnut took a gulp of her hot yak milk. “But, speaking of parasites and things I should probably see Gothi for…” Astrid pulled up an eyebrow, but Ruffnut didn’t look at her. “That disgusting herbal tea they say is the solution to all our problems? Not always effective.”

“Well, yeah,” Astrid grinned, gesturing to the dance floor. “Forget to take it one morning and you’ve got yourself an adorable mini-Hiccup.”

“I did take it every day.”

Astrid gaped at Ruffnut. “You mean...?” She glanced at her mug of mead before Ruffnut answered, figuring she’d had too much. Sober Astrid would have caught on to that immediately. "And you mentioning Solveig having to learn how to share earlier today…?"

“Yep,” Ruffnut answered, making the ‘p’ pop. “Sol’s getting a sibling this Summer.”

“Whoa, I mean…” she blinked, trying to come up with an appropriate response.

Oh Gods.

She shook her head, snapping herself out of the hint of panic simmering beneath her skin. “Congratulations!”

Ruffnut just nodded, looking away. “I suppose so.”

“You’re not happy?” she asked, trying not to let on that she herself also had strongly mixed feelings.

“I mean, I’m not unhappy, I love Solveig, but it’s just…” Ruffnut sighed. “Complicated.”

“Does Spitelout know yet?”

“No.” Ruffnut shook her head. “Just Tuff, my mom and Snot. But I don’t think Snot can keep it a secret for much longer, he’s too excited. So we’ll probably tell his dad tonight. And I’d rather you hear it from me than any of Spitelout’s gossipping friends.”

“Thank you,” she said, from the depths of her heart. “I really appreciate that.”

“It’s nothing,” Ruffnut shrugged, followed up by a grin. “Gives me someone to complain to when Spite starts digging up every folk tale telling desperate men how to make sure their women give birth to a boy.”

She snorted. “You don’t want a mini-Snotlout?”

“I don’t want a mini-Spitelout,” Ruffnut corrected her. “And I’m sure Snotlout would be perfectly happy with a whole horde of girls to spoil.”

“Until they start dating,” she joked, hoping she didn’t sound too relieved by Ruffnut’s preferences.

“At least the chaos won’t be mine, for once,” Ruffnut smirked. “I can’t wait.”

She scoffed. “Never a dull day on Berk, huh?”

“Don’t even need a Phantom to stay entertained,” Ruffnut remarked, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Although that human disaster of yours was easier to deal with, in a way.”

“Maybe,” she murmured, the both of them glancing at Hamish, Solveig and Spitelout.

“You know, Astrid?” Ruffnut’s voice dropped, only audible to the two of them and surprisingly serious.

“Hm?”

“I think I’d like Hiccup to come back too.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Hiccup was even further away from Berk than usual. He didn’t necessarily hate that, but to say he was happy would be a severe overstatement.

Then again, happiness wasn’t one of the things he deserved to get for Snoggletog this year.

He took out his sketchbook and sat down, Toothless lying down next to him and Stormfly standing guard at the other end of the island. He searched for one of the rare empty pages and glanced up, placing his pencil on the paper and outlining what he saw in front of him.

The Rookery was a busy place on Snoggletog Day. It was filled to the brim with all kinds of dragons, some of which he recognised from his army, others from the Red Death’s nest. But the dragons didn’t seem to mind meeting their enemies here. Today, they were all equal, tending to their new hatchlings with unconditional love and care. It was as beautiful as it was frustrating.

He’d prefer to be back on the Red Death’s island and continue the fight. His efforts had been stalling for a while now, the Dragon Queen preferring to keep her head down in the heat where he couldn’t reach her. But if she kept that up, she’d starve sometime soon. There was no other logical option. He just didn’t know how much longer she would take.

What he did know was that being at the Nest wouldn’t yield him anything. He needed his other dragons to make a real impact, so he might as well watch over them and their babies for the time being. Perhaps he could intercept a few of the others on the way back, earn their trust to the point that they would join him instead of returning to serve the Red Death. Then at least it hadn’t been a complete waste of time.

He knew he didn’t need to be here. In all the years he’d guarded the Rookery, there hadn’t been a single Viking ship in its vicinity. He was the only one who knew where this island was. He could go wherever, to the Northern Markets to fix up his armour, to Berserker Island to take stock of Dagur’s degree of insanity during the holiday season… To Berk, just to give them a sign he was still alive. A Snoggletog surprise.

He snickered to himself as he heard another Gronckle egg explode in the background, an idea popping up in his head. Dragon eggs, on Berk, a ribbon tied around them. Looking perfectly innocent until they exploded. Letting him be a menace even though he wasn’t anywhere near Berk. For entertainment’s sake, this time.

“Nah,” he decided. “It’s a good thing those hatch far away from Vikings. Should probably keep it that way.”

As much as he tried to be a changed man, to think differently, to not get stuck in the negative spiral that had landed him in this spot in the first place… He wasn’t a huge fan of the idea of letting adorable baby dragons anywhere near Vikings either.

Instead he eased his boredom by continuing his sketch, capturing the Rookery’s bright beaches and many dragons as well as he could with charcoal alone. It was certainly one of the most beautiful islands in the Archipelago, and hard to properly translate to paper. Still, he didn’t think he was doing too badly. Toothless agreed, warbling his approval when Hiccup showed the sketch to him.

He considered finding a Terrible Terror and sending it to Berk with the sketch. A Snoggletog present for Astrid, like the figurine of Toothless he’d given her five years prior. He’d told her about the Rookery, and she’d wanted to see it, but had never taken her there because it was almost a day’s flight away from Phantom Island. They’d both figured there would be a time for that. They’d both assumed he wouldn’t screw things up this badly.

This could be a way to make it up to her.

But he shouldn’t. He couldn’t contact her. He wasn’t allowed to. He hadn’t earned the right to interrupt whatever she’d built for himself after he’d left. Not yet. For all he knew she was living her life happily without him. Alone, or with a man who was better for her than he ever could be.

He didn’t know. He had no idea, it was completely out of his hands. He didn’t have a sliver of control over it. And that sense of incompetence, that loss of power, was eating away at him, making his heart ache.

He missed her. He missed her so much.

Finishing his sketch, he made a promise to himself. He would kill the Red Death before the next winter. By next Snoggletog, he would have seen Astrid again. And even if she didn’t want anything to do with him, which he couldn’t blame her for, he would know she was doing fine.

This would be the last Snoggletog he spent in uncertainty.

--------------------------------------------------------

It was nearly midnight when Astrid got back to her own home. She silently thanked her parents for agreeing to host Snoggletog at their place this year, so she didn’t have anything to clean up. She could simply carry Hamish, who was half-asleep in her arms, into their bedroom in the back without having to care about anything else.

“There you go, little Terror,” she smiled as she put him down on their bed, shushing him as she pried his new notebook from his hands. After he’d finished ‘dancing’, they’d worked on it for a while. Hamish couldn’t read yet, let alone write, so she’d helped him sketch out the runes of his name on the first page. He’d continued to test out his pencil for the rest of the night, drawing simple shapes until he’d finally tired and fallen asleep in her lap.

She struggled to get him to cooperate as she took off his outer clothes, eventually resigning herself to simply tucking him in in the outfit he’d worn today instead of changing him into his nightshirt. She wandered around the house for a bit, making sure they wouldn’t get too cold during the night, before changing into her nightdress herself.

Hamish stirred when she slipped in next to him, opening his eyes and crawling towards her, murmuring something unintelligible.

She took him into her arms and sat back against the headrest. “What is it, baby?”

“Thless,” was all she could identify.

“What?”

Hamish fisted one of his hands in her dress, his green eyes gazing up at her through heavy eyelids. “Toothless.”

“You want Toothless?”

Hamish nodded, and she reached over to her night stand, picking up the wooden Night Fury figurine on top of it. Hamish grabbed it from her as soon as he laid eyes on it, cradling it against his chest. He’d been completely in love with it from when he was a baby.

She hugged Hamish tighter, lightly tapping the figurine’s snout. “Did you know that mini-Toothless was the first Snoggletog present Daddy gave me?”

And the only one. But Hamish didn’t need to know that.

Hamish’s eyes lit up despite his exhaustion, the way they always did whenever she mentioned Hiccup. Whenever she told him stories about his father, letting him believe Hiccup hadn’t abandoned them but that he cared, that he loved Hamish at least as much as she loved him. That he was simply away to do very important work. To fight an evil dragon and protect all the good ones she told Hamish stories about.

Hiccup was Hamish’s hero. She had built his image that way. One of an adventurer, an inventor, someone who fought for what he believed was right. All that Hiccup was if she chose to leave out the shadows and the scars. A Hiccup without the Phantom.

The Hiccup she desperately hoped to see the day he finally came back. Who could, at the very least, be a father to Hamish. If he wanted to.

Gods, she hoped he wanted to.

“He made it himself,” she explained, trying not to tear up. “Carved it out of wood and painted it to look just like the real Toothless. So that he’d always be with me.” She kissed the top of Hamish’s head. “And with you too, of course. Even when he’s away to fight.”

“Daddy and Toothless have Snoggletog too?”

“Of course,” she lied, because she didn’t know. She had no idea where Hiccup was, or what he was doing. She had no idea if he was alive. She didn’t know anything.

She kept telling people he would come back. While she wasn’t even sure herself.

“Odin only visits kids, but Daddy and Toothless celebrate Snoggletog with each other,” she improvised, biting away her tears when Hamish focused his gaze on the figurine in his hands. “They exchange gifts, although Toothless isn’t very good at it. He usually gets Daddy raw fish.”

Hamish giggled, and she went on for a while more about all the different kinds of fish Toothless liked, slowly lowering her voice until her perfect piece of happiness fell back asleep.

Then, she cried.

She kept Hamish cradled against her, not because she was afraid he’d wake up. Not because he needed it. But because she did. Because sometimes, she wasn’t as strong and hardened as she wanted to be. Because on days like these, she longed for every possible kind of distraction, to prevent herself from succumbing to the incredible sense of guilt and grief she still hadn’t managed to shake.

So she wept in silence. She had held out all day, and now allowed herself to have this moment. To imagine that she’d hear three knocks on her roof tonight and that Hiccup would slide in through the window, hugging her and assuring her that from now on, everything would be fine. That Ruffnut’s new pregnancy didn’t matter, because he’d come back. That he was going to fix the mess he’d left behind. That the Phantom was gone, and that he was here for them now. That she no longer had to do it alone.

That he loved them. That’d he’d never leave them again. That he would take care of his son until the day he died. And that he’d do the same for her, finally fulfilling his promise to make her his wife.

Just for tonight, she could be that naive. She could dream, she could hope. She could let go of what was sensible, and realistic, of all the plans she’d made for when Hiccup did come back.

And even though she hadn’t asked Odin for a present since she’d been eight, she now found herself whispering her only wish for the Gods to hear.

“Please bring Hiccup back. And let this be our last Snoggletog without him.”

----------------------------------------------------

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this little look into the current lives of everyone we came to know in The Phantom of the Arena, and that you all have a very happy holiday period!

I’d like to leave you guys with a bit more concrete information on the sequel I talked about in the author note at the start; I am currently working on writing it, but because I have a busy half a year ahead of me, I first want to have the first act (about 10 chapters) done before I start posting. I hope the posting will start in February at the latest, but I can’t make any promises. For more updated information, you can always look at my Tumblr (aleteia-ff) or join the channel #aleteias-fics on the ATOV Discord Server (link can be found in the description of my Tumblr profile).

I can give you guys the summary as a little teaser, however:

After five years of relentlessly putting up a siege against the Red Death, Hiccup, the former terrorist known as the Phantom of the Arena, has finally defeated the Archipelago's greatest enemy, putting a definitive end to the dragon raids. Hoping the worst is finally behind him, he returns to Berk, only to find he left more behind than just the girl he loved. And that life still isn’t done with him.

Outside of the Archipelago, Eret, son of Eret, is left with nothing after a mysterious dragon rider destroys his fort and releases the captured dragons his employer sorely needed. Fearing he’ll be killed if he doesn’t, he returns to the Archipelago with what little remains, hoping to find employment in the dragon-infested area. But the threat seems to have followed him, as news spreads of how Berk's infamous Phantom has returned to reclaim what's his. And that dragon hunters like Eret will never be safe, unless they act against him.

#phantom of the arena #pota #phantomverse #hiccstrid #hiccup #astrid #fanfiction #httyd fanfiction #httyd #httyd fanfic #aleteia-writes #hamish hofferson #stoick the vast #snoggletog #merry christmas!#really hope you guys enjoy this ^^#wrote it in like 2 days

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mermaidmafia-official · 5 years ago

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{ PART 2: BLOOD GETS IN YOUR EYE }

yinmei’s outfit ^^^ plus these glasses!

taglist: @bebemoon @interluxetumbra @vampirkaninchen @blubbingbeautifully

Ysabelle didn’t want to go to Nessa’s race, so of course it fell to Yinmei to babysit.

She sighed and leaned back in her seat, terribly bored by it all. Ysa had joked that she shouldn’t participate, ‘old’ and ‘frail’ as she was, and Yinmei had rolled her eyes but agreed that no, she was not going to participate, because street racing was just so....messy. And Yinmei hated getting messy.

To ensure that she was being discreet enough around the mortals in attendance, Yinmei had a pair of glasses - made out of antique burial coins - perched atop her nose, partially obscuring her ruby iris from view. Her dress was black satin, with a floor-length skirt, and the sleeves were sheer and lacy, decorated with embroidered flowers. Yinmei also had little opera glasses (complete with a mother-of-pearl handle) with her, and the thin, wide-brimmed hat she wore was mostly for the aesthetic effect, considering that the sun had set many hours ago.

The race had yet to start, but there seemed to be a...complication. Yinmei stirred, frowning. Even from a distance away, she could make out Nessa at the starting line, astride her own bike. As Yinmei got up and made her way over, angling for a better view of the starting line (levitating just an inch off the ground as she did so, letting the hem of her skirt hide the fact that her feet were never making contact with the pavement), she heard Nessa declare the race a - a neutral zone?

The tattooed henchmen (was that the correct word for them? Yinmei had no idea what street racer kids like Nessa called anything. In any case, she was pretty sure that they weren’t exactly henchmen, but she couldn’t really think of a better word for tattooed muscle heads, so. There you have it) let someone forward, so that they too could take their place at the starting line.

Yinmei narrowed her eyes. She was too far away to put her finger on what it was, exactly, but she knew that she didn’t like it. It was only after the racers took off down the icy asphalt, engines roaring as they shot forward, that Yinmei could make out, floating in the cold winter wind, the smell of-

-the smell of a werewolf.

---

Yinmei was waiting for Nessa, after the race.

“What the hell were you thinking!” she snapped at the younger vampire, floating swiftly in her direction. “A fucking werewolf? Right now?”

Nessa didn’t seem all that perturbed. Her eyes were bright and wild with something that Yinmei couldn’t quite place (something that came, in her opinion, too close to alive to sit comfortably with her), strands of her dark hair plastered to her forehead. Her bike, Yinmei noted, was also a little worse for wear.

Yinmei frowned. Nessa had crashed? That wasn’t...that wasn’t like her.

Yinmei continued, “Look, I know Ysabelle lets you get away with whatever you want, but this kind of bullshit puts the entire Coven at risk. Haven’t you been paying any damn attention?”

Nessa’s expression was arranged in one of...something that came close to attentiveness. Close enough, at least. Yinmei sighed, and rubbed her temples. Who knew how much of what she was saying was actually getting through to Nessa; in her century-and-a-half with the Coven (was that number right? Yinmei couldn’t remember exactly), Nessa had proven herself to be the most impulsive and reckless of the bunch. Yinmei blamed it on both her youth, and on the way that mortal society had progressed; these days, newly-Created vampires didn’t have a chance to get the brutally-slaughter-every-person-in-sight phase of vampiric unlife out of their system. Heavens knew that Yinmei had gone through that phase herself, two millennia ago. Much of that time period had been lost in her memory, but she remembered that piking her Creator and indulging in that newfound bloodlust had been the most alive (“alive”) she’d truly felt ever since she was Created.

“Just - Ysa and I will deal with it. But please don’t do it again,” Yinmei said, finally.

“Alright, alright, okay,” replied Nessa, and Yinmei sighed and let her go.

A moment later, she sighed again. Ysa was going to be upset.

#btr #btr: story #yinmei #blood gets in your eye #yinmei story #btr: blood get #btr: yinmei #short and sweet this time kadsfj;asf not really much to do except chew nessa out hahaha #lmk if i should change anything

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csigirl3137 · 6 years ago

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Locked in the Closet

Pairing: Hiccup Haddock x Astrid Hofferson

Word Count: 3,780

Warnings: angst, mutual pining, Tattooed Hiccup, Pierced Hiccup, Fluff

Authors Note: I think Hiccup and Astrid are one of the best couples in film and tv shows that I’ve ever seen. Their relationship is absolutely gorgeous and I love them both. I hope this story is good and people like it.

Hiccup had just finished his last class of the day, black skull-candy earbud earbuds in his ears, leather jacket zipped up against the winter wind over his outfit of choice for the day; a black and gray vans hoodie, black skinny jeans, and motorcycle boots and was on his way to the cafeteria for some lunch when something, or as he’d find out in a minute, someone plowed into him.

His earbuds popped out of his ears, his phone flying out of his pocket and skidding across the ice. He was now lying flat on his back, an extremely flustered blonde girl on his chest, her nose millimeters from his. Bright blue eyes met his green ones and quick scan of her face allowed Hiccup to recognize her. It was Astrid. The girl he had a crush on, and she was lying on his chest. Shit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Astrid Hofferson, the pretty blonde girl that sat three rows ahead of him in his English Literature class and lived on the same floor of Hiccup’s dorm as he did. Hiccup had had a crush on her since the first day he saw her. As the semester went on and she showed how smart and witty and sassy she was, Hiccup’s crush had only grown and he really wanted to make a move or ask her out on a date, but he’d never actually done it, because there was no way that a girl of her caliber would ever want to go out with a guy like him.

They were polar opposites. Hiccup had unruly brown hair that he could never tame or get it to lay flat and bright green eyes, that when he was working (he was a mechanical engineering major after all, so yes he was constantly inventing) could get a little bit of a manic glint in it when he was working on his latest invention. He was a little bit of a loner as he was prone to sensory overload and worked best and thought best when he was alone. Most of his upper body was covered in tattoos, he had a silver ring through his lip, his eyebrow pierced, and three silver rings in each ear. He wore mostly black or gray and was never without his leather jacket and alternated between motorcycle boots, and all black high top converse.

Astrid on the other hand, wore bright colors, had blonde hair that was always perfectly made up, was studying law, cared more about school than her personal life, and was insanely modest and there was no way she’d ever go for a guy like Hiccup.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Oh my gosh, Hiccup, I’m sorry! Are you alright?” Astrid’s bright blue eyes were locked on Hiccup’s green ones and Hiccup was uncomfortably comfortable with how Astrid felt on his chest.

“You know my name?” Hiccup internally slapped himself for how dumb that sounded coming out of his mouth. Great Hiccup, way to sound smart in front of the girl you want to date. The corner of Astrid’s mouth quirked upwards in the start of a smile as she clambered off his chest.

“Yeah, you’re Hiccup Haddock, you’re in my English literature class. You sit three rows behind me, and you live a few doors down from me.” Astrid explained as Hiccup climbed to his feet retrieved his phone from where it had slid across the ice when Astrid plowed into him.

“Oh um, hi. Are you okay?” Hiccup repeated Astrid’s question back to her.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good, just running late. So if you’re okay…” Astrid trailed off, not really knowing what else to say to the boy that she had a major crush on, standing there in front of her. So she filled the silence by swinging her backpack back over her shoulders with a little more force than was necessary to emphasize her point that she was late. “I’ll see you in English.” Astrid quickly scurried off, leaving Hiccup standing there, watching her go.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So, do you think we got the ball rolling?” Tuffnut asked, an evil grin on his face as he stared at his twin sister, who was the cause of Astrid’s fall and slide across the ice. Ruffnut gave her twin brother an identical grin as she watched Hiccup and Astrid’s interaction.

“I do believe we did dear brother. I do believe we did. Our two young lovers will have to get a move on now.” Ruffnut watched Astrid scurry away and the longing look that Hiccup had on his face as he watched her go.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As Astrid hurried off to her intro to criminal law lecture, she cursed herself for ever telling Ruffnut about her crush on one Hiccup H. Haddock III. Now Ruff, and her twin brother Tuff, had gone out of their way to try and get her to dress so Hiccup would notice her, or as of more recently, like today, tripping her and making her fall into Hiccup. Boy wasn’t that a great way to make a good impression?

As she settled into her seat, Astrid couldn’t help but think about what it felt like to be that close to Hiccup. God he smelled good, and holy shit, his eyes were amazing. He smelled like leather, wood shavings, and something spicy that she couldn’t name. Was it Cologne? Maybe his deodorant? And his eyes, Jeeze his eyes! She’d never seen someone with eyes that green before. They were literally the same color as the apple part of those caramel apple suckers that Astrid loved so much. He also had that damn silver ring in his lip. Somedays in English, when she could sneak a peek back to the back of the classroom to get a look at him, he’d absentmindedly be playing with that stupid ring in his lip, using his tongue to push it around and flick it back and forth. It drove her crazy! And it may have given her plenty of other ideas about what he could do with that tongue of his.

She also knew for a fact that his upper body was covered in tattoos. Perks of living on the same floor as the guys (well, some of them) in her building. Hiccup Haddock was the type to walk to the shower wearing just jeans or pajama pants and usually slippers. So, Astrid had been treated to shirtless Hiccup more than once. The first time she’d seen him, she was surprised at how muscular he actually was. He wasn’t in-your-face, body builder muscular, but he was still really well defined.

Hiccup had a pair of surprisingly anatomically correct, what looked like bat wings tattooed across his back and onto the backs of his biceps. But they were more elegant than Bat wings, and with a little bit of research, Astrid had realized that they were dragon wings. The ink of the wings started on each of his shoulder blades, the wings extending up and out across his back and across the back of his biceps, just the way that wings would extend from his back, if humans did have wings.

But not only did Hiccup have dragon wings tattooed on his back, he also had a tattoo on each shoulder that were specifically and amazingly designed to look like there were two big black dragons crawling over his shoulder and down on to his chest. They were amazing and Astrid could only guess at how long they’d taken to be done and how much they’d cost.

Another thing that drew Astrid to Hiccup was his height. The first time she’d actually stood next to him (courtesy of a team building activity in English lit), she was surprised at how tall he was. Standing at five foot nine herself, Astrid was anything but short, but Hiccup, well, standing next to him, she felt small. He had to have been at least six feet tall, maybe more. She’d been surprised at first at how tall he was, but when his parents, Stoick and Valka came to visit for parents’ weekend, Astrid’s jaw had dropped when she saw how tall that Hiccup’s father was. Stoick was the biggest, tallest man she’d ever seen, and she thought that it was possible that he was the biggest, tallest man that she’d ever seen in her entire life. Once, during one of his many flirting sessions, Astrid had asked Hiccup’s cousin, Snotlout, just how tall Stoick actually was.

“He’s almost seven feet tall. Why?” Snotlout had questioned. Astrid told him, no reason, and did her best to hide her shock.

The sound of her professor starting to speak caught Astrid’s attention, and she banished all thoughts of Hiccup from her mind. Education first. Boys later.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hiccup watched Astrid run off towards the criminal justice building and mourned his conversation with her.

“Great job Hiccup. Real smooth. She’s totally going to want to go out with you now. Ugh!” Hiccup let out an audible growl of frustration, barely resisting the urge to throw his hands up in the air.

He was about to tuck his earbuds back into his ears when he heard sniggering from behind him. Turning around, he spotted the twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, standing a ways back from where Astrid had crashed into him.

“Real smooth Hiccup!” Ruffnut crowed.

“She’s totally going to want to go out with you now!” Tuffnut was almost in tears from laughter.

“Oh shut up.” Hiccup’s expression darkened as they started walking towards him.

“We dumped her in your lap and all you can say is, You know my name?” Ruff started laughing just as hard as her brother.

“Wait, you guys were responsible for Astrid crashing into me?” Hiccup questioned.

“Yes! We know about your crush! And we want to get you together!” Tuff exclaimed, his face gleeful. Hiccup’s expression continued to darken and the twins slowly stopped laughing as they watched it happen.

“You guys know that Astrid could have been hurt! I could have been hurt! This ice is slick!” Hiccup stomped his foot against the icy sidewalk, just to emphasize his point.

“We were only trying to help.” Tuff didn’t even look ashamed.

“Yeah, well, Astrid doesn’t like me like that, she’ll never like me like that, so no more of your attempts to try and get us together. You guys don’t exactly think straight, and someone could get hurt. Don’t do that again.” With this firm statement, Hiccup tucked his earbuds back in his ears and continued on his way to the cafeteria.

Halfway to the cafeteria, Hiccup’s ADHD brain decided that his body was too wired to eat, and that instant noodles in his dorm while he continued to tinker around with the project he was working on currently, a gift for his mother and father’s 25th wedding anniversary, sounded much better than a loud, crowded cafeteria where he would have to sit down and eat. Eating instant noodles in his room, he could carry his noodles around with him as he worked on his stuff.

So, that’s what he did. He went back to his room, hung up his leather jacket, made instant noodles, and carried them around his single dorm, which he was lucky to have gotten, he hated sharing a room, and he tinkered around, sketched stuff and worked on his parents anniversary gift, trying not to think about how good it felt to have Astrid on his chest.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Over the next couple weeks, Hiccup ran into Astrid more often than he had before. One day he’d asked her to get lunch with him and so they’d started a ritual. They started getting lunch every day and despite their crushes on each other, they got to be pretty good friends by the time that winter break rolled around. Hiccup liked his friendship with Astrid, because she could ground him when he got hyper, and helped him deal with his sensory overload issues, and if he needed space, she willingly gave it to him. Astrid liked her friendship with Hiccup because he made her life interesting and helped her indulge her reckless streak, and she knew she had a pretty violent temper at times. Hiccup helped her manage that and she really thanked him for it.

So, because of this friendship, when Ruff and Tuff invited Hiccup and Astrid to a Christmas party at their house, they’d both accepted. And now, here they were, at the Thorsten house for a Christmas party. Ruff and Tuff’s parents were gone for the holidays and had left the twins in charge of the house, which was a terrible idea, but it had led to the party that was now going on.

“Hiccup! I have something to show you!” Tuff dragged Hiccup out of the corner he’d been hiding in and towards the stairs to the second floor.

“What is it!?” Hiccup yelled over the pounding music.

“You’ll see upstairs!” Tuffnut lead Hiccup upstairs.

“Astrid! I have something to show you!” Ruff dragged Astrid out of the corner she’d been occupying since the party started, not having been able to find Hiccup since she got there.

“What is it!?” Astrid yelled.

“It’s upstairs! Come on!” Ruff grabbed Astrid’s hand and dragged her up to the second floor.

Ruff and Tuff lead Hiccup and Astrid upstairs and to a single door in the middle of their bedroom hallway, both twins, each with a person in tow, reached the door at the same time.

“Alright guys, what did you want to show us?” Hiccup asked, crossing his arms over the soft gray sweater he was wearing. Tuff yanked open the door to what looked like a linen closet and flicked the light on.

“It’s a prank gift for Snotlout. It’s in the back, there.” Tuff pointed to what looked like a pile of blankets. Hiccup and Astrid shared a confused look, but Hiccup’s curiosity was getting the better of him and he walked into the closet. He peered behind the blankets.

“Hey, I don’t see anything….” Hiccup trailed off as he noticed the manic look on the twins’ faces and Ruff gave Astrid a hard shove into the closet, causing her to stumble into Hiccup’s chest, Hiccup catching and steadying her as the twins swung the closet door shut and Hiccup and Astrid heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in a lock.

Astrid’s blue eyes got wide and she rushed to the door and twisted the knob. Nothing. The door wouldn’t open.

“Ruff! Tuff! This isn’t funny! Let us out of here!” Astrid yelled, banging her palm against the door.

“Nope!” Tuff yelled back.

“Yeah! You guys so obviously have feelings for each other! You’re all each other talk about when the other isn’t around! But you won’t do anything about it! So, we are!” Ruff explained through the door.

“We’ll let you out of the closet when you admit you like each other and just start dating already!” Tuff’s voice was gleeful.

“Yeah! Or kiss!” Ruff added.

“We’ll be back to check on you in 15 minutes! Have fun!” Hiccup rushed to the door and banged on it, his banging adding to Astrid’s as they heard the twins walk away.

When it became obvious that the Twins were serious and they weren’t coming back, Hiccup gave up banging on the door and looked at the watch on his wrist.

“Well… its 9:15, they’ll be back at 9:30, if they don’t forget. You know how scatterbrained the twins are.” Hiccup told Astrid, his eyes moving from his watch to Astrid’s face.

“I can’t believe they did this!” Astrid exclaimed, her anger evident in her face. She tried the door again, and again the knob didn’t turn. She let her anger get the best of her and slammed her right hand against the door, harder than she’d done before, and it left her hissing with pain, while she cradled her right hand in her left.

“Hey, hey, it’s locked. Don’t to that, you’ll hurt yourself.” Hiccup gently grabbed Astrid’s sore hand in both of his and massaged it gently, the pain slowly fading.

“Thanks Hiccup.” Astrid looked sheepish as she watched Hiccup’s fingers work their magic on her hand. Once the pain was gone, she took her hand back and tucked both her hands into her jeans pockets. She lifted her head and looked at Hiccup’s face. He was doing that thing again, where he played with his lip ring with his tongue. She took a deep breath and tried not to focus on that one specific detail.

“So, what are we going to do for 15 minutes until they come back?” Astrid asked, her tone light, trying not to think about how close Hiccup was to her body. The closet they were locked in wasn’t very big and with the shelves on the wall, the standing space between said shelves was very little, leaving Astrid and Hiccup standing chest to chest, their chests almost touching.

Hiccup ran a hand through his hair, messing it up, but making it even sexier. How was that possible!?

“Well, um… they did lock us in here for a specific reason…” Hiccup reminded her. Astrid couldn’t help how wide her blue eyes got.

“Oh, yeah, they did. Uh…” Astrid trailed off, the awkwardness she was feeling, obvious in the air. Hiccup took a deep breath and Astrid got a sinking feeling in her stomach. He was going to speak, he was going to tell her that he didn’t like her, at least not like that, and she was going to be crushed.

“Astrid, look, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now.” Hiccup started speaking, but paused, and Astrid’s stomach sank more. Hiccup flicked his lip ring with his tongue, a nervous habit, and started to speak again. “Look, since the first day I walked into English lit, well, I’ve thought you were cute, and as the semester went on and I realized how smart and funny you are and as we got to be friends, it only made me like you more. I’ve had a huge crush on you all semester, and it’s been driving me crazy, and well…” Hiccup trailed off again, taking a deep breath.

Astrid’s heart soared. He liked her! Hiccup Haddock liked her!

“I know that I’m probably not the kind of guy you’re into, what with the tattoos and the lip piercing and the silver rings in my ears and the bar through my eyebrow...mph!” Hiccup’s sentence was cut off because Astrid’s lips were on his.

After the shock of it wore off, Hiccup relaxed, and he returned the kiss. He wound his arms around Astrid’s body, pulling her close to him and drawing a soft moan from her. Feeling slightly triumphant, Hiccup pressed her closer to him and nipped at her bottom lip and it earned him a soft gasp and the feeling of her fingers threading through his hair. Taking advantage of her gasp, Hiccup boosted Astrid up off the ground, her legs wrapping around his hips, while he turned and pressed her back against the door, using it as leverage to hold her up and deepen the kiss.

Astrid couldn’t believe it. She was kissing him. Hiccup Haddock! The one she’d had a crush on since she’d first seen him. And he was kissing her back! He liked it! He liked her! Astrid felt like she was going to scream with happiness, so she did the opposite thing, she just lifted up on her tip toes, shut him up with her lips on his and hoped for the best. But now, here she was, back pressed against the door, her legs wrapped around his hips. Hiccup’s fingers in her hair, his skilled fingers deftly undoing her French braid and allowing her long golden locks to come loose.

“Always loved your hair. So pretty.” Hiccup spoke softly as he pulled back, allowing them both to breath. Hiccup’s forehead was pressed against hers, her eyes locked on his. Astrid dropped her legs from around his hips, allowing them to hold her own weight, her back still flush against the door, Hiccup’s body keeping her trapped there. His bright green eyes were locked on her blue ones and he looked the happiest that Astrid thought she’d ever seen him. Hiccup continued to gently run his fingers through her hair, a smile on his face.

“You think so?” Astrid asked, her voice soft and breathless.

“Yeah, I do. I can understand if you don’t want it getting in your face, but you should wear it down more often. You always have it up.” Hiccup drew his hands out of her hair and framed her face with them, the pure adoration he felt for her obvious in his face.

“I’ll do that. Wear it down more often. As long as you promise to wear this more often.” Astrid gently tugged at the front of Hiccup’s gray sweater.

“It’s a deal milady.” Hiccup was smiling as he looked at her and by the way he was looking at her, Astrid felt her heart swell and it almost felt like it was too big for her chest. Hiccup pressed a kiss to Astrid’s forehead and then took a step back, allowing both of them a little space to catch their breath.

“So,” Hiccup started, a twinkle in his green eyes. “I’m guessing that you like me too?” He asked, a cheeky grin on his face, his hands tucked back into his black skinny jeans pockets. Astrid burst out laughing and slugged him on the shoulder.

“Of course I like you too, you idiot. I have since the day I saw you.” She gripped the front of his sweater and yanked him forward, pressing another kiss to his lips. The kiss deepened, like the one before it, but Hiccup pulled back, wanting to ask his question while he still had the courage.

“So, since you like me, and I like you and we already know we enjoy spending time together, Astrid Hofferson, would you do me the honor being my official girlfriend?” Hiccup questioned, a grin still on his face as he looked down at her.

“I would be honored Hiccup Haddock.” Astrid pulled him back into her, and with a kiss, they sealed the deal.

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