#So Jack was Hiccup's secret admirer

[hearts4hughes]

LOOKING AT THE STARS, ADMIRING FROM AFAR | JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: did you ever look up at the stars and think of him? did he ever look up at the stars and think of you?

note: i actually love this so much. idec that it’s rushed towards the end because this is a writing i’m so proud of! hopefully you can enjoy it as much as i do!!

the night sky stretched out above you, an endless blanket of twinkling lights and cool-toned colors. you pointed up to the sky, tracing the constellations.

“what are you pointing at?” the brunette next to you inquired. jack was so close to you that you could feel warmth radiating off of him. you turned your head, dropping your hand to your chest.

“the stars and constellations.” you smiled and he blushed. he wished he could’ve related to you, or even tried to understand what you were showing him as you described the different patterns of stars and what each one was. but he couldn’t, so he just nodded and listened.

you had first met him at an outdoor skating rink on a chilly winter morning. you’d been attempting to learn how to skate when you collided into the tall boy, knocking both of you on your butt. your cheeks flushed as you apologized, only now noticing how cute he was.

the way he laughed at your corny joke, his eyes twinkling with warmth, had left a heart-shaped mark on your brain. it was as if the stars themselves had aligned to bring you two together. he was the sun, and you were the moon, destined to orbit around him.

as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, your friendship deepened. you shared secrets, dreams, and laughter, but your heart ached with the knowledge that your feelings for him were anything but platonic. you found yourself falling in love with him as time went on, a type of love that was written in the stars.

“huh, i never knew that.” jack said, subconsciously scooting his body closer to you— if that was even possible. your face flushed such a deep shade of maroon that you were happy for the nighttime darkness.

if only he knew what he was doing to you.

you giggled, “yeah, because every time i show them to you, you forget a second later.”

he sat up, turning his body to face you as his legs sat crisscrossed. his brows were furrowed and his mouth was open in an offended way. “i do not!” he retorted in a playful manner.

“ok, then what is that constellation called?” you asked, quirking a brow. your finger pointed straight to virgo (which you had just shown him minutes before). he looked up at the sky, eyes squinted and head tilted.

“uh, well, that’s obviously the big flipper.” his answer sounded more like a question. you let out a huge snort, throwing your hand over your mouth to conceal your laughter. “what are you laughing at missy?” his eyes twinkled with mischief under the moonlit night. before you could open your mouth to answer, jack’s hands were attached to your sides, his fingers tickling the sensitive area.

your abdomen tightens as his fingers continue to brush across the bare skin on your stomach. through hiccuped breaths and laughs, you yelled out, “stop- it!” your hand came up to slap him away, but his own caught it, pinning it above your head and moving himself on top of you. your laughs halted, becoming a silent echo in the darkness of the summer night.

silence consumed the two of you. you memorized the way the moonlight complemented his blue eyes and how his plump lips were parted, breathing out heavily. his eyes flickered between your lips and your eyes, your irises mirroring his. ever so slightly, jack leaned closer, his lips inching towards yours.

yes!

but just as he was closing the space between the two of you, the porch door swung open. the hockey player jolted back off of your body, sloppily positioning himself besides you.

“jack,” trevor called out, brows furrowing as he scanned the current scene. the heavy breaths, jack’s messy hair, and your pink cheeks, everything led to one conclusion. “were you both just making out?”

“no!” you and jack yelled in unison, heads whipping to look at each other. he wore confusion on his face, wondering why you were so desperate to dismiss that idea.

“jeez, calm down, love birds.” trevor chuckled, but you and jack only deadpanned him.

“did you need something, trevor?” your tone was sharp— almost sharp enough to slice through the tension hanging in the air.

“yes, i did.” he smirks as a feeling of satisfaction washes over him. you squint your eyes, now glaring at the taller boy. “jack and i have some unfinished business, and that business is nhl 23.” jack hears him but doesn’t dare to move away from you. “oh, unless you’d rather finish your makeout session?”

trevor's teasing remark lingers in the air, a subtle reminder of the stolen moment that almost was. you shoot him a withering look, and jack, still situated next to you, shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks tinted with a shade deeper than the summer night.

"we weren’t making out," you retort, the words tumbling out in defense, but the residual tension from the interrupted closeness between you and jack is tangible.

trevor, unfazed by your sharp response, grins mischievously. "sure, sure. well, we'll see about that." he gestures for jack to join him, a sly twinkle in his eye. "the game awaits, hughes."

jack glances at you apologetically before reluctantly detaching himself from your side. as he follows trevor inside, he shoots you a reassuring smile, silently promising to return.

left alone on the porch, you take a deep breath, the cool night air soothing the heat that still lingers on your cheeks. with a wistful smile, you lean back, gazing up at the stars that witnessed the almost-kiss. the night sky, a canvas of twinkling constellations, seems to hold its breath, similar to you.

what has jack hughes done to you?

—

the boat gently rocks as you dock it, and you cast a sidelong glance at jack, his silhouette bathed in moonlight. a mischievous smile plays on your lips as you break the hushed atmosphere.

"you know," you begin, your voice low and playful, "there's something about being out here under the stars that makes me want to confess all my secrets."

jack turns to you, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "oh, really? any secrets you want to share?"

you meet his gaze, and a flirtatious smirk graces your lips. "maybe. but only if you promise not to tell anyone."

his fingers tighten around yours, the connection between you growing more pronounced. "i'm good at keeping secrets."

your laughter echoes across the lake, blending with the soft lapping of the water against the boat. "well, mr. hughes, i might just hold you to that."

the air thickens with anticipation as you lean in, the magnetic pull between you undeniable. jack's eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes, a silent invitation hanging in the air.

"jack, i," you continue, but as your gaze meets his own, insecurity washes over you. "i’m," you continue, but as your gaze meets his own, insecurity washes over you. "i’m, i’m tired.”

a playful glint lights up jack's eyes, and he inches closer. "that’s your big secret?” he questioned, his thumb running circles over your knuckles.

you meet his gaze, the moonlight casting a subtle glow on your features. "perhaps," you reply, your words a delicate dance on the edge of something more.

his smile softens imperceptibly, a subtle dance visible only to someone as attuned as you. you've always been tuned into the nuances of jack's demeanor, studying him like one of your textbooks.

"well," he confesses, "i've got a secret too. i'm tired, just like you!" his words evoke a genuine laugh from you. your head nestles naturally against his strong shoulder, a perfect alignment that defies the need for words. it's a silent understanding, a connection that words can only attempt to describe.

in response, he wraps you in the security of his embrace. time seems to stretch into a suspended moment, where seconds meander into minutes and minutes unfold. together, you find comfort in the quiet, creating a safe space within the gentle presence of one another.

breaking the cherished silence, he whispers tenderly, "let's head home, sleepy."

—

“i’m moving to california.” you announced, your voice firm, but laced with a hint of vulnerability. the words hang in the air, a heavy truth neither of you expected.

jack's eyes widened in surprise, the shock registering like a sudden storm on a calm sea. "california? why?" his voice, normally steady, betrayed a hint of concern.

"change of scenery? need to get away?" jack's laughter, tinged with sarcasm, sliced through the air like a bitter wind. "from what? michigan or from me?"

your confession hung in the silence, a whispered secret. "i don't know," you confessed. the room, once filled with easy banter, now felt like any other room, except for the echoes of a shared history that couldn’t be shrugged away.

neither of you responded. silence filled the once joyful room. tears silently slipping from each other’s eyes. as jack choked out sobs, you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him like he had done to you that night on the boat. you both began to break down, falling to your knees and entangling your limbs together. every cry was another crack in your heart. your once icy demeanor melted away like snow in his arms.

the night before you left, you both sat on the rooftop, looking at the stars, your fingers intertwined with hers. the air was heavy with unsaid goodbyes, and the tears you had been holding back threatened to spill.

“promise me you’ll keep looking at the stars,” you whispered, your voice quivering. “promise me you won’t forget.”

he nodded, unable to speak as the lump in his throat grew. the stars above seemed to shimmer with a poignant beauty, as if they too were saying their farewells.

the next morning, he watched you drive away, a bittersweet smile on his face. the love you shared was a constant, a guiding star in your life, even though you were now separated by miles and cities.

—

3 years later

the night sky stretched out above jack, an endless blanket of twinkling lights and cool-toned colors. he sat on the same lawn where you both had once traced constellations, where laughter and shared secrets had woven a tapestry of memories.

his gaze was fixed on the stars, his mind wandering through the vast expanse of the universe, seeking a connection he had lost. he often found himself lost in the night, wondering where you were and if you, too, were looking at the same sky.

california felt like a world away, a distance measured not just in miles but in the ache of a heart missing its counterpart. jack couldn't escape the feeling that a part of him remained suspended in the constellation of shared moments, lost in the void between stars.

the sound of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves provided a haunting soundtrack to his contemplation. he thought of the promises made under the night sky, vows to keep looking up, to remember. but as time passed, the stars became witnesses to his silent longing.

no matter how many new constellations he discovered or how many cities he traveled to, the celestial map of his heart always led back to that rooftop and the warmth of your fingers entwined with his.

years passed, and jack never truly moved on. he found success in his career, experienced victories on the ice, but the emptiness lingered beneath the surface. the stars were a constant reminder of the love written in their cosmic arrangement—a love that remained etched in his heart.

he often wondered if you ever looked at the stars and thought of him. the pain of not knowing, of living with the unresolved, cast a shadow over the brilliance of his achievements. the promise to keep looking at the stars became a silent pact with an absent partner, a promise he intended to keep even if it meant holding onto a ghost of what once was.

if only you knew what you did to him.

[senashenta]

Snowflakes And Dragons

Title: Snowflakes And Dragons

Pairing: Hijack

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Language. Like, so much language.

Summary: In the spring after a memorable Christmas break, Hiccup and Jack spend as much time together as possible, now that it’s okay with North. Jack admires Hiccup’s tattoos—and muses that he might, someday, like to get one of his own. But Hiccup jumps on THAT particular idea, and the next thing Jack knows the two of them are at the tattoo parlor Hiccup has been going to for years, Wayfinder Ink.

Notes: Hoooooooooly SHIT my peeps, look at me coming in out of nowhere (by “nowhere” I mean the SPN fandom) with another Biology side-fic. This is one I planned to write YEARS ago and never got around to, and then I was editing some of my old stuff and saw the listing for Snowflakes And Dragons on the Biology Master Post on Tumblr and was like… yes. Yes, I believe I shall. :|

A bit belated but have some more (smut-adjacent) RPNAU! :D Can also be read ON AO3. <3

SNOWFLAKES AND DRAGONS A Biology Side-Fic By Senashenta

It was no secret that Hiccup Haddock had tattoos; he wore sleeveless shirts as often as he could in the warmer months so the ones on his arms were obvious, and his rugby teammates could attest to the other ones, the ones that decorated his torso, all tribal designs or dragons, things that he found meaningful but weren’t particularly scandalous.

Only Jack knew about the one on Hiccup’s upper thigh, leading into his groin—a two-headed dragon spouting clouds of gas and fire. And he only knew about that one for reasons that his father would probably never want to hear about (and he would never tell to anyone else, either.)

“You keep touching me there and you’re gonna get me fuckin’ hard again.” Hiccup murmured, the arm he had around Jack tightening slightly and his hand rubbing up and down the other boy’s unblemished side. Jack didn’t have any tattoos; or the freckles or scars that Hiccup carried, either. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Jack made a soft embarrassed noise. He had been tracing his fingers along the dragon on Hiccup’s thigh, but now he paused and smoothed his hand out before sliding it up to rest by Hiccup’s ribs instead. “Sorry.”

“Don’t gotta apologize for makin’ me feel good.” Hiccup told him, tone amused. “But we don’t have time for a second ‘round. I’ve gotta get you home, soon. I promised your Dad we wouldn’t be too late.”

Jack tucked himself closer into Hiccup’s side and began trailing his fingers along one of the tattoos on the other boy’s chest, the touch almost absent in nature. Hiccup hummed but allowed it, tilting his head to drop a kiss against Jack’s snow-white hair. “How much does it hurt?” Jack asked after a moment, tone contemplative.

“How much does what hurt?”

“Tattoos. A tattoo. Getting one done.”

“Why, Frosty? You thinkin’ about gettin’ one?”

“I—yeah, actually. Maybe.” His little nerd admitted with a little shrug of one shoulder.

“Fuck me, really?” Hiccup glanced down at the boy in his arms, giving him a surprised look before settling again, his hand going back to rubbing along Jack’s side, warm and affectionate. “It’s worse for virgins.” He said after a moment, “the more you get done the less it seems to hurt. Except in certain sensitive areas.” A little smirk and he added, “the dragon one you’re so fond of stung like a son of a bitch, the closer they got to my dick.”

Jack almost winced at the thought, his fingers slowing to a stop again, his palm resting against Hiccup’s chest, feeling his heartbeat under his hand. “Okay, but say, on my shoulder? My abdomen, maybe? I dunno, I just… I was just thinking about it.” Then his voice dropped to a shy whisper, and he murmured softly; “I was thinking maybe a dragon.”

Hiccup was silent for a few breaths before asking quietly, “you mean… for me? Shit, Jack, that’s…”

“I—I know, it’s a stupid idea, really, I was just looking at your tattoos and thinking—” Jack broke off and made another embarrassed noise, then began to pull away and sit up; “but never mind. Forget it. We—we should go.”

But Hiccup grabbed at him quickly and tumbled him back down onto the bed, rolling over so he was laying on top of Jack and Jack was staring up at him with wide eyes—but ones full of complete trust. It hadn’t always been that way. “I don’t want to forget it.” Hiccup told him and leaned down to kiss him firmly. “I think it’s a Goddamn fantastic idea.”

Jack blinked up at him, eyes huge and oh-so-blue, before offering a tentative smile. There was a time, it seemed like ages ago, but it hadn’t actually been that long, when being pinned under Hiccup like this would have been terrifying. Now he was comfortable with Hiccup’s weight holding him down, relaxed. “You do?” He asked.

“Mmhm.” Hiccup kissed him again, grinning now, and then nipped at the tip of his nose teasingly. “Won’t your Dad freak out?”

“Well… yeah, probably.” Jack admitted, but then added, “but not if I don’t tell him.”

A laugh at that, and then Hiccup ducked down to kiss along Jack’s throat, pausing at the crook of his neck to lick there hotly. “If you get it on your shoulder, it’ll probably hurt less than if you get it on your abdomen.” He informed, “but I think it’d look fucking hot on your abdomen…”

Jack considered that while beginning to squirm as Hiccup’s lips trailed along his shoulder, then down across his chest—and the punk bit down on one of his nipples, making him arch with a gasp. And they weren’t supposed to be doing this again, Jack really did have to get home, but apparently Hiccup had changed his mind on that particular fact.

Dragging one hand up, Jack threaded his fingers into Hiccup’s hair, tugging gently, not actually a protest, just a gentle reminder. Hiccup had been licking into his navel, but paused at that and sighed, then sat up and settled on his back beside Jack instead, both of them already half-hard again.

“Look,” Hiccup told him, wrapping an arm around Jack’s shoulders and ducking in to nose by his ear, “come with me to my tattoo place, they’re fantastic. You can look around the shop and decide for sure. Sound like a plan?”

“I know they’re fantastic, I’ve, uh, seen their work.” Jack let his eyes flick down the length of Hiccup’s body and back up again. “But… yeah. I think that sounds good.”

“Great. We can go on the weekend.” The punk grinned sideways at him, “but for now we have to get dressed and get you home.”

Jack reluctantly agreed. It was a school night after all.

The next couple of days passed the same as always for Jack, school routines, lunch with his friends in the cafeteria and watching after-school rugby practices just to cheer Hiccup on. Meals in the morning and the evening with his dad. Hanging out with Hiccup after dinner, at his house or at his boyfriend’s, though if they were at Hiccup’s place they had to be careful because his father still didn’t know about them.

Sometimes they had sex at Hiccup’s house—fucked, as the punk would put it—but when they did, they had to either be particularly careful about their volume, or make sure Stoick was out of the house at the time. Jack particularly liked having sex at Hiccup’s house when his father was away, because his boyfriend’s bed was more comfortable, and they could be as loud as they wanted. (Not that Jack thought he was particularly loud, but sometimes Hiccup disputed that claim.)

He was really looking forward to moving away from home, for that reason and a few others, if he was honest with himself. College the following year was going to be a blessing, though he was a little nervous about it as well.

In any case, the two days before the weekend passed easily enough, and then Saturday came along, and Jack woke up at almost eleven in the morning to the feeling of the mattress dipping and Hiccup climbing into the bed with him, spooning up against his back and tossing an arm over his waist. Still half-asleep, Jack smiled and murmured, “g’mornin’.”

“Morning, Frostbite.” Came Hiccup’s reply, and the punk nuzzled his nose into the nape of Jack’s neck; “I tried calling, but you must have your phone on vibrate or whatever. Your Dad let me in.”

There had been a time, not so long ago, when North would have rather had Hiccup arrested than willingly let him in the front door. Jack’s smile widened a little and he hummed to himself, then carefully turned over in Hiccup’s arms to face him. “Dad likes you now, you know.”

“I know he tolerates me, at least.” Hiccup chuckled.

“Mm-mm.” Jack made a soft negative noise. “You know what he’s like if he disapproves of someone. You’ve won him over. Makes my life way easier, that’s for sure.” And then, “sorry I slept in. Give me a few minutes to have a shower, you can just… hang out in here until I’m back.”

“Fuckin’ tease.”

“Okay, but do you want to go back to Dad hating you?”

“All the sneaking around was half the fun. I miss the janitor’s closet.”

“Hiccup, we were literally in the janitor’s closet yesterday.”

The punk had a childish grin on his face, and Jack just rolled his eyes and pushed one hand against Hiccup’s chest, then rolled over and climbed out of bed, bustling around the room for a fresh t-shirt and pair of boxers and then disappearing out the door and down the hall to the bathroom.

When he got back half an hour later to toss his dirty clothes in the laundry basket, Hiccup was laying on his back in the bed with Jack’s glasses in his hands, holding them up in front of his face and squinting through the lenses. Jack just sighed and walked over to pluck his glasses from Hiccup’s fingers, then leaned down for a kiss.

“I just need to finish getting dressed and then we can go.” The smaller boy informed him.

When he went to straighten back up again, though, Hiccup grabbed at the front of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. “What if we went with less clothing, instead?”

“Dad is right downstairs and I really kind of want to go see your tattoo place, though.” Jack protested into the kiss.

Hiccup sighed and kissed him again—but then let go of his shirt and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “So, put some fucking pants on already. Always gotta be such a tease.”

“You’re the one who crawled into my bed while I was still sleeping.”

“Smartass. Like I haven’t done that before.”

“That’s besides the point.” Jack was bustling around, pulling the rest of his clothes on quickly, and paused long enough to consider if he wanted to wear a tie or not before deciding it was a weekend so screw it. He just pulled his sweater vest over his white t-shirt and tugged at it to smooth it out, then wandered over drop a kiss against Hiccup’s hair, placing his glasses on his face and pushing them up his nose at the same time. “You coming? I don’t know where this place is.”

Hiccup pushed himself to his feet and pulled Jack into a hug, wrapping him up in his arms and nuzzling down into his hair with a sigh—and it was little moments like that that no one else got to see. The softer side to his badass punk of a boyfriend that Jack loved just as much as all the other parts—sometimes even more so.

“I brought my bike. Your Dad is gonna give me a dirty look when we head out.”

“Yeah, he’s still not a fan of me being on the motorcycle, is he?”

North was still overprotective at times, but he accepted Jack’s relationship with Hiccup now, and that was the important thing. Even knew they were sleeping together and didn’t say anything about it, which, when he really thought about it, Jack though might be some kind of genuine miracle.

But the one thing North still disapproved of was Hiccup’s motorcycle—or, more specifically, the times that Jack rode on it with Hiccup. Jack knew his Dad was only worried about his safety, and he never expressly forbid it, but every time Hiccup showed up to the house with his bike North gave him little, dirty looks when they were leaving.

Jack usually just ducked his head and shouted “BYE DAD!” before scooting out of the house and closing the door behind them as quickly as possible. He didn’t need yet another lecture on motorbike safety, and neither did Hiccup.

Today went much like any other day with the two of them heading downstairs, Jack hurrying to shove his shoes on, both of them grabbing their jackets from the rack by the door, and then Jack yelling a goodbye to his father before they made their escape. Eventually North would have to come to terms with the bike, too, but just not… today.

Hiccup was parked by the curb out front, and when they reached the bike, Jack took his glasses back off and tucked them in the pocket of his jacket for safe keeping, even as Hiccup dug the spare helmet out from the locker on the back of the bike and handed it over. They had done this more times than they could count. Jack pulled the helmet on and tightened it down, then waited for Hiccup to get on and climbed on behind him, wrapping his arms around the punk’s waist and smiling to himself as he rested his head against his back.

Then they were off, zooming through the streets of Berk at speeds that never failed to get Jack’s heart pumping. He had been nervous around Hiccup’s motorcycle at first, but now he loved it. Not that he wanted one of his own or anything, of course, he much preferred holding onto Hiccup while they zipped around town.

A few minutes later they pulled up in front of a shop with a sign in the window that read “Wayfinder Ink” and Jack released Hiccup to climb off the back of the bike, pulling his helmet off and smoothing at his hair absently while he waited for Hiccup to take it back and lock it up again. The helmet was plucked from under his arm a moment later and Jack flashed Hiccup a smile even as he was pulling his glasses back out and putting them on again.

“This is the place.” Hiccup told him, coming up beside him and giving him a little grin, “they’ve done all my ink. Their artists are really good, and they’re sanitary, which is important, you don’t want infections or any of that shit. Also, they don’t charge out the ass, which is always a plus.”

“Like I said before, I know their artists are good, I’ve seen their work. Like—like a lot.” Jack gave a little laugh, a faint blush tinting his cheeks, “and if you recommend them… I mean, I trust your judgement with this sort of thing. Most things, actually.”

Hiccup gave him a fond sort of look and gestured toward the shop with one hand. “C’mon, let’s go in so you can have a look around.”

There was a little bell above the door that tinkled when they stepped inside, and Jack stayed close to Hiccup’s side at first as he looked around, but slowly drifted away from his boyfriend when he discovered the art wall; framed photos of some of the shop’s better work. He spotted one or two of Hiccup’s tattoos in the bunch, and that made him smile just a bit.

There was another wall that was even more interesting, though, and that was the wall of simple, basic tattoos that they offered every day. Jack poured over all the different designs, ideas running rampant in his head—until blue eyes lit on one design in particular, a black dragon, curled around itself with a bit of red tail peeking through. The design was almost tribal in nature, but just skirted it, not quite there. It looked like a brand or a symbol.

“Find something you like?” Hiccup’s chin came down on his shoulder and the punk’s eyes flitted over the wall. Jack lifted up one hand to tap against the dragon design he was looking at. “Yeah, that one’s cool. I’ve thought about getting it myself, once or twice.”

“I—I think I want it.” Jack told him seriously, but then glanced toward the counter where the receptionist was watching them curiously and a large CASH ONLY sign was sitting. “But I didn’t bring any cash with me.”

A smirk tugged at Hiccup’s lips, and he slid his arms around Jack’s waist, giving him a little squeeze. “I’ll pay for it. First one’s on me. But only if you’re absolutely fuckin’ sure. You can’t take a tattoo back.”

Jack made a surprised noise and turned his head to look at Hiccup as much as he could. “You don’t have to do that, Hiccup, it’s probably expensive…”

“A little,” Hiccup agreed, “but I’m doing okay for money. Don’t bitch, Jack, just let me do this for you.”

He almost protested more, but in the end, there would be no point. Hiccup had made his mind up and there was no changing it after that happened. Jack still shifted, slightly uncomfortably, as he turned his eyes back to the design he had been looking at before. Finally, he leaned back into Hiccup’s chest and asked, “promise this won’t be, like, agony?”

“It’s not nearly as bad as people make it out to be.” The punk assured him, “but it also depends on your pain tolerance. You’ll just be getting a little one, right? So, you’ll probably be okay.” And then; “don’t get me wrong, it’ll hurt, but it won’t feel like you’re being fucking… flayed alive, or some shit.”

Jack was quiet for another moment before finally turning his head and kissing Hiccup’s cheek. “Okay. Let’s do this before I come to my senses.”

Hiccup grinned. “Do you have any idea how Goddamned hot you’re gonna look with a tattoo?”

“Pfft.” Jack turned around in his arms and shoved him away gently.

Hiccup fell back a step, still grinning, then turned around and headed over to the receptionist, who left her seat and disappeared into the back, returning a few minutes later with a hulking man who was just covered in tattoos. There was some back-and-forth between him and Hiccup and then he smiled widely in Jack’s direction and asked, “virgin, huh?”

Jack flushed red because he wasn’t—except, he supposed, with this he absolutely was. “Uh.” He managed, “yeah. Be nice?”

“I’m always nice.” He informed Jack, “my name is Maui, and I’ll be your tattoo artist today. Come on over.”

“Maui’s done most of my ink,” Hiccup told his boyfriend as Jack made his way over and somewhat embarrassedly showed Maui the spot on the right side of his lower abdomen where he wanted the tattoo to go, lifting up his shirt and vest and tugging down the front of his pants just slightly. Hiccup hesitated at that, green eyes pausing on the exposed skin, before swallowing and adding, “getting it there’ll be a little more sensitive, like I said.”

Jack just nodded. He understood. But that was where he wanted it, so that was where he was going to get it, regardless of the added pain. Or at least that was what he was thinking now—he figured he might be cursing himself in a few minutes, if it hurt more than he was anticipating.

“And you just want number twenty-six on the board?” Maui asked, picking up a book and flipping through the pages, then showing the image to Jack. “This one?”

Jack nodded again. “Yes, that one.” He pulled his shirt down again, satisfied that—

“Right, shirt off, time to give Moana a show!”

—or not. The nerd flushed red and glanced over at the receptionist, who grinned at him and wiggled her fingers in his direction. Then she just informed Maui; “you wanna talk about a show, Maui, you were literally tattooing some guy’s dick in here not two hours ago. That was a show. Leave this poor kid alone.”

Jack was still balking, so Hiccup eased up to him and leaned in for a kiss, then gently grasped the edge of his sweater vest and rucked it up, tugging it over Jack’s head and then giving him another kiss. The sweater vest was followed by his t-shirt, which Jack hesitated over before allowing his boyfriend to pull that off, too. Then he just shifted awkwardly as Hiccu’s hands got to work unbuttoning his pants and tugging them open and down the slightest bit.

“There. Much better.” Hiccup grinned and ducked in for another kiss, then pressed one back by Jack’s jaw gently. “You can put your clothes back on when the tattoo is done.”

“If you say so.” Then, a little disparaging and knowing Hiccup would disapprove; “not much of a show, though.”

The punk frowned at that and gave Jack a reproving nip. “Hey, you shut that shit down, Frostbite, you’re hot as fuck.” Then he tugged Jack a little closer and leaned for another proper kiss. “I’ll be glad to show you just how hot you are later, too.”

That was about when Maui cleared his throat. Over by the reception desk, Moana was still grinning. Maui shot her a look and she demanded, “what? They’re cute!”

“Do people really get their… dicks… tattooed?” Jack wondered out loud.

“Yes.” Hiccup and Maui both said simultaneously. Maui added, “all the fucking time.”

Jack winced at just the thought and took a bit of a breath. Hiccup leaned in to kiss his forehead with a grin. “Just don’t think about it, Jack. Yours isn’t gonna be anything like that.”

“Right.” Maui agreed and sat down on a nearby stool that was decked out with wheels, rolling himself over to the tattoo bench: a sort of doctor’s or dentist’s table of sorts, or at least that’s what it looked like to Jack. Maui patted the bench. “Jack, right? Hop on up. Moana, bring the paperwork.”

Moana chirped an agreement and dug out the clipboard with the papers for Jack to sign, bringing it over with a pen and explaining them to him—quickly but without leaving out any detail. This was important, for legal reasons. So, they didn’t get sued when someone regretted their life choices later on.

Jack listened closely and it all made sense, so he quickly signed his name at the bottom of the contract, then climbed up on the table and, when Maui made a motion for him to lay down, hesitated just briefly before doing just that. Hiccup came over and tugged his pants down a little more, making sure there was plenty of space for Maui to work, and making Jack squawk out a protesting noise, flushing red again. Maui just dug out the alcohol swabs and set to sterilizing the area of skin in question.

…it turned out the actual tattooing part of the getting a tattoo wasn’t really all that bad. Jack just grit his teeth through the pain and, at one particularly sensitive spot, flung his arm up over his eyes and bit out a curse, making Hiccup laugh.

It took just over an hour, but only because there was so much black to fill in, and then Maui was setting aside the tattoo gun and wiping down Jack’s new tattoo, then applying a pressure dressing to it. “Looks good, man! Keep the bandage on for forty-eight hours and try not to get it wet for two weeks. Buy some Tattoo Goo from Moana on your way out to apply to it once a day after you’ve removed the bandage, since I assume you don’t already have any. Make sense?”

Jack nodded and levered himself up on his elbows to look down at his abdomen—and then smiled, just small, pleased. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Looks great, Jack.” Hiccup commented, and licked his lips, adjusting his lip piercing absently. Jack was climbing off the table and beginning to fix his clothes—but Hiccup immediately began stripping out of his shirt. “My turn, now!”

“Again, Hiccup? You don’t have enough ink already?” Moana sounded amused.

“I’ve still got lots of skin.” Hiccup replied, and started a little powwow with Maui, whispering between them while Jack pulled his shirt on, followed by his sweater vest. He looked over curiously, but Hiccup seemed determined to keep his secrets.

Finally, the punk was up on the bench being prepped and the next thing Jack knew Maui was working on the side of his upper left bicep, the large man’s form blocking Jack from getting any decent looks at what he was tattooing. He supposed Hiccup wanted it to be a surprise, then. Jack just accepted it and took a seat by the reception area to wait.

Moana was puttering around, filing paperwork, and looked up long enough to smile at Jack, “not so bad, right?”

“No, I guess not.” Jack agreed, “I don’t know if I’ll be getting any more, though.”

“Oooooh, you’d be surprised. Tattoos are addictive.”

“Maybe, but this one was… personal. I don’t really want anymore.”

“Hey, not trying to be a pusher, here.” Moana grinned, “but you know where we are if you ever change your mind.”

Jack gave a smile in return. “Duly noted.”

Just under an hour later, Hiccup was popping up from the tattoo table, grinning down at his shoulder, and finally turned to let Jack see what he’d gotten done: it was a delicate snowflake in blue, intricately designed, obviously freehand, and not at all in keeping with the themes of his other tattoos. Jack just… paused. Swallowed slightly, then stood and headed over to his boyfriend, leaning up to give him a gentle kiss.

“I take it you approve?” Hiccup asked with a smirk, even as Maui gently pushed Jack aside to apply the pressure bandage to Hiccup’s new tattoo. “I figured one for one, it was fair.”

“But what if we… break up, or…?”

“I could ask you the same question about the one you just got.”

That was a fair point. Jack touched over the sore spot where his new tattoo was and then just gave a little, almost shy smile. “Thanks, Hiccup.”

With his own tattoo now properly covered, Hiccup took the clipboard that Moana came over to belatedly shove in his face and signed his name to the papers he needed to, then handed it back. Moana returned to the reception desk, humming softly to herself the entire time.

“Check out with Moana.” Maui was already starting to sterilize the equipment, and called after them when they headed over; “CASH ONLY.”

“I know, Maui.” Hiccup replied, already digging out his wallet.

Moana set a little jar of Tattoo Goo on the counter and glanced between Hiccup and Jack before asking, “one bill or two?”

Hiccup fished a wad of bills out of his wallet while Jack shuffled his feet and felt unnecessarily guilty. “I’m paying for us both.”

The transaction was simple enough and Hiccup handed over the designated amount—plus a tip—then swiped the Tattoo Goo off the counter and turned to hand it to Jack, who looked at it for a moment before tucking it into his pocket. Then Hiccup said his goodbyes to Maui and Moana, and they were out the door, Jack waving to them as he left.

Outside, Jack took a moment to just breathe a little, the vague pain from his new tattoo almost comforting in a weird sort of way. He was smiling to himself when they reached Hiccup’s bike, and Hiccup unlocked the lock box to pull out the spare helmet. When he turned to hand it to Jack, he paused—and just smiled.

“No regrets?” He asked.

“Not yet anyway.” Jack replied, then; “you didn’t need to get one for me, though, that’s…”

“Hey.” Hiccup leaned in to press a kiss against Jack’s forehead and offered, “you’re as permanent as it is.”

Jack just smiled, soft and fond. “Same.”

[aura2023]

Jack sometimes falls asleep while taking care of the sheep's and when he wakes up there is a bouquet of flowers at his side or a basket with food.

He wants to know who's the person leaving the gifts, but every time he is about to find out, his secret admirer slips away.

His sister knows the secret admirer is hiccup because one day that she came with jack to take care of the sheep she saw him leaving another bouquet of flowers while jack was a little far in the pasture guiding a sheep back to the flock.

She promised hiccup to not say anything but she also promised jack to help him find out who the secret admirer is. She tells jack. But jack is like "Hiccup? That can't be. He is busy being a dragon rider and I'm sure he probably is dating someone else"

Well, she tried. Plan B.

She saw hiccup hiding and ready with another gift for jack. She tells him that jack's asleep and he can leave it without problem. And yeah, he sees jack lying in the grass under a tree so he goes but he didn't consider that the girl pushed him and he ended up falling over jack, waking him up very rudely.

Now here we are, jack shocked to see hiccup but holy shit that hurt can you please get off of me, hiccup being embarrassed and apologizing over and over and jack's sister laughing at them.

[ashersmut]

Dragon Guardian Jack au

[Jack]

I was brought back into the world for a reason. My spirit followed the wind to the island of Berk where dragons saw and welcomed me as one of their own. 

Therefore, I will fight to protect them as long as I exist. 

Seven generations later, Hiccup is born. Jack watches Valka with her newborn from outside the Haddock home.

[Jack]

Gods…another one. He’s so small. I almost feel sorry for him.

Valka turns her head, as if she hears a voice. She looks directly at Jack, who stares back with disbelief. The winter spirit hides quickly, making an escape to the sky.

[Jack]

Thats…that's impossible. I've been invisible to mankind for centuries. That woman. Who is she? I need to speak with her face to face.

That night, Jack leads a dragon raid to have Valka captured. He brings her to the secret nest of the great Bewilderbeast. The winter spirit sits upon the Alpha dragon like a king, looking down upon his hostage with curiosity. 

[Valka]

You...I saw you earlier today. Who are you?

[Jack]

I think we have a lot to talk about. Let's sit down and have a cup of tea. 

The two of them sit down to talk, while drinking hot tea.

[Valka]

These creatures. I've never seen them up so close before, but this one (Cloudjumper) is gentle, intelligent, and beautiful. They all are. 

[Jack]

This woman's soul reflects my own. Perhaps that is why she can see me and others cannot.

You're different from the rest of them. 

[Valka]

I've always felt like an outsider on the island. I tried everything to stop the fighting, but it was impossible to reason with Stoick. I just wish the generations of bloodshed would come to an end.

[Jack]

For the first time, I felt like I made a mistake. I escalated the conflict between dragons and humans, and I need this woman's help to change history.

Do you wish to go back to Berk?

[Valka]

I don't know. I worry about my family…my son. But I do not miss the fighting. This home of yours is peaceful, and I wish to learn more about what you do. Would you care if I stayed for a little while?

[Jack]

You may stay for as long as you want.

Ten years later. Valka has decided to stay in the sanctuary. She and Jack work together to rescue dragons from hunters, and they take turns watching over the sanctuary when the other is gone. She still thinks of her family often, and she worries about her son. 

[Jack]

If you're thinking about your family, you're welcome to leave. 

[Valka]

It's been far too long. What would Stoick think? The person I am now, my ambitions…they conflict with the traditions of Berk. I'd be dead to them whether or not they already believe I am. 

[Jack]

Perhaps, but I have faith that one day, we can restore peace between dragons and mankind.

[Valka]

People are not so easily changed. You and I were born different.

Besides, I can’t afford to leave this nest. Not now. These creatures need me.

[Jack]

You have the heart of a mother and the soul of a dragon. That's why I've always admired you. 

[Valka]

I'm a terrible mother. I fear my son would resent me, knowing I've been away all this time.

[Jack]

I'm sorry, Valka. I should have never brought you here.

[Valka]

No. It was my decision to stay. I should thank you for your hospitality and the knowledge you've given me. 

[Jack]

And I'm glad to have you as an ally and a friend. If there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know.

[Valka]

There is one thing…

[Jack]

Hmm?

[Valka]

I may as well stay here for the rest of my life, and I'm content with that. But…if something were to happen to me, would you please watch over Hiccup?

[Jack]

Of course. I will make sure nothing happens to him.

----

An idea I had that's been sitting in my drafts for a while...something to give Hiccup and Jack some more history. I may or may not illustrate this at some point? I'm a pretty lousy writer so please excuse the strange writing format.

[ryan-says-hi]

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three]

Jack is going to catch his secret admirer this time.

He ate dinner long after sunset to keep his energy up. He made a pot of coffee and downed half of it with a grimace, despite his mother's complaints. Hell, he was even out in the field in the dead of night barefoot, his toes turning numb with the cold press of dirt. 

He’s starting to regret that last one. He glances down at his toes, wiggling them to check that they still listen to him. Indeed, they wiggle.

Jack isn’t sure how long he’ll have to wait or if his admirer will come tonight at all. But seeing Hiccup the other day, holding the flower meant for him, had filled him with some feverish desire to finally catch the person in the act. Hiccup was proof that this person did exist. For whatever reason, there’s someone who holds affection for Jack.

The thought warms his face (though, regretfully, it does nothing for his poor feet). Someone holding affection for him. He, Jack, the shepherd boy, who’s made the mistake of biting Hiccup once when they’d gotten too into their wrestling match. 

Someone holds affection for him.

The moon is just a skinny slip of light, itty bitty in the inkblot sky. Jack tilts his chin up to it regardless, leaning a little heavier on his staff as he watches shadows of midnight black cross the sky. Likely clouds, but maybe a flock of birds or a late-night dragon hunt. Jack scans the shadow for any indication it’s a group of dragons, even as his thoughts tumble away from the present.

He’s been thinking about his admirer, sure, but ever since he’d caught Hiccup with the flower, he’s also been struck by the realization that he’ll have a chance to spend more time with Hiccup. A trip to the mountains, or even to the dragon village, would surely be easier if he asked his admirer to take him there. 

Not that he hasn’t asked Hiccup before. He has, on several occasions. But Hiccup tends to get stuttery anytime Jack hints at finally meeting the dragon riders Hiccup talks so fondly of, so Jack doesn’t push.

Well. He pushes a little. But not too much, or too often. Just a bit of pushing here and there, especially when he isn’t being trailed by Emily. 

The thought of Emily makes him frown.

Emily is—well. She’s Emily, which means she’s always saying things, and not all of them are truthful. So when she’d told Jack it was Hiccup leaving him all those gifts, he’d immediately assumed she was messing with him. Hiccup is a friend! A friend who has important things to do for his tribe, important responsibilities. (Besides that, Jack has seen how Hiccup talks about his “friend” Astrid. He’s pretty sure she’s more than a friend, but he doesn’t have any theories as to why Hiccup would be shy on that one.)

The moon whispers out from behind the moving shadow, and Jack’s spirits sink a little at the wispy shapes that pass over its crescent form. Just a cloud. 

Blowing his bangs from his forehead with a huff, Jack leans further against his staff, his spine giving a small pop between his shoulder blades as he adjusts his weight. “You think they’ll come tonight?” He asks the sheep. The sheep don’t respond. Jack is sure one day he’ll get them to crack. Hiccup doesn’t seem to think so, but Jack is on a mission to prove him wrong.

Jack lowers his eyes from the moon, gaze pulled like a leaf on the wind to the crook of his staff. He’d taken the flower Hiccup had half crushed and woven the stem of it around the wooden crook, mostly as a way to preserve the flower since it was too damaged to last more than a day. Staring at the stem, Jack lets his thoughts turn idly.

There’s something weird about the whole thing.

Why would Emily lie to him? She’s never tried messing with his feelings before. Getting out of chores and passing blame is her usual MO. They rib one another, but at the end of the day, they’re siblings; Jack sneaks her extra cookies from the cookie jar after dinner, and Emily double checks his bed decoy is still in place on nights Jack sneaks out to the pasture to lie under the moon. She’d never lie to him about something like this.

And now that Jack is thinking about it, why had Hiccup been holding the flower? Had he seen it next to Jack and picked it up? That had been Jack’s assumption when he’d (been very rudely) woken up, but now . . .

“I’m sure he will,” Jack says to the sheep. He can’t remember what he’d been telling the sheep, but talking out loud always helps, especially when his thoughts are as scrambled as they are now. Groaning in frustration, he straightens up from his lean against his staff—

—only to stiffen at the abrupt shuffling of sheep, somewhere to his left.

Jack snatches his staff from the ground and spins on his heel, eyes straining in the darkness. 

There! A figure, too shrouded in the night for him to make out any details, but most definitely humanoid (and not a wolf, thank the gods). The moon isn’t doing Jack any favors, but it looks like they’re frozen midstep, their head hunched over their shoulders. 

Jack lowers his staff, his heart racing. About time! “Hey!” Jack calls out, putting on his best grin. If they’re a dragon, they can probably see him even in the dark, and he wants to make a decent impression on them. 

(The realization that this stranger probably knows Jack far better than Jack knows them is . . . unsettling, but Jack shoves it down. They’ve been leaving him flowers and bread. How much danger could he be in?)

The figure doesn’t unfold from their hunched position, so Jack steps forward, trying to get a better glimpse of them. What little light the moon has been offering flickers away—probably behind a cloud.

The figure bolts.

“Wha—hey!”

Jack spits a curse and takes off after them. 

Whoever they are, they’re fast. But Jack is fast too, light as the wind even on frozen feet. Jack can barely make out who he’s chasing, trusting the vague silhouette of panicked sheep parting around them to trace his path over the pasture. The moon begins to emerge from behind its cloud, and big, black leathery things snap open from the figure's back. 

For a moment, Jack thinks they’re Hiccup’s wings.

The figure crouches, like they’re about to burst into the air. In a panic, Jack lurches forward with his staff. The crook of it catches the dragon around the waist, just over what looks to be a belt—

—and then Jack is in the air, a mad gust of wind erupting over his face from the figure’s wings. It’d be enough to shock him out of his grip on his staff, had he not been so accustomed to grabbing onto Hiccup for delighted life every time he’d been snatched from the earth. Even so, he yelps in surprise as his body is flung forward. 

Their combined weight is enough to throw the figure off their flight. The two of them jolt in midair, and Jack thuds into the figure's legs as momentum catches him. Something metal hits him in the gut, knocking the wind from him. There’s a tug on his staff, and between the chaotic tumbling of it all, Jack’s white-knuckled grip on the wood slips. 

He falls, eyes screwed shut as thoughts whirl around his skull too quickly for him to grab at anything other than bracing for pain.

A second later, a body thuds into his, and he’s being flipped suddenly, everything spinning for a wild moment as the figure crushes him to their chest. It’s a rough grab, and Jack’s hands make a blind grab on instinct, frozen fingers gripping at armour—armour Jack knows by heart by now.

Jack’s eyes fly open.

Hiccup’s face is screwed together, the worried knit of his eyebrows achingly familiar in the light of the moon. It only takes a moment for Hiccup to right them in the air, his arms firm around Jack’s waist as his wings beat steady, a near-perfect partner to the night sky. 

“Gods, Jack,” Hiccup says. There’s probably irritation in his voice, but Jack’s a bit too busy having his whole world suddenly rearranged to really process the fact that Hiccup’s upset with him. “How did your staff not break? I get you’re not very heavy, but I took off at full speed, and it carried you. What is it made of—Jack? Jack?!”

Jack snaps his eyes away from Hiccup’s mouth. He’s not irritated, Jack realizes abruptly. He’s worried. 

“Are you hurt?” 

The arms around his waist adjust, and then there’s a hand on his face, strikingly warm against his chilled cheeks. Stupid dragons and all their stupidly natural furnace heat, Jack thinks suddenly and viciously as he lets go of Hiccup’s stupid armour to grab his stupid face. The thought of Hiccup dropping him never even crosses his mind. 

“You’re my admirer?” He asks, his voice erupting from him far louder than he’d intended. “You’re the person who’s been leaving me bread and—and flowers and—and—!”

Hiccup’s eyes widen, pupils enormous. His ears flatten against his head, and beneath Jack’s hands, he feels the heat that rises to Hiccup’s cheek. It’s an absurdly nice feeling. 

“Uhm,” Hiccup says, when Jack fails to splutter any further. “Surprise?”

Surprise, he says. Surprise.

Jack can’t help but laugh.

It burbles out of him, gently at first, but then he starts to shake with it, something delightful like sizzling bacon or the crash of a hot spring erupting inside of him. He lets go of Hiccup’s face so he can tuck his own into Hiccup’s neck, utterly consumed by the laughter that’s sending him into shambles.

As he slowly regains control of his laughter, Hiccup lowers them to the ground. By the time his feet touch solid earth, he’s dizzy with how happy he feels, and it’s only Hiccup’s arms around him that keep him upright. 

“Jack?” he asks. He sounds nervous, or—well. Nervous isn’t quite a strong enough word, or maybe it’s an understatement. He sounds like he’s making that face he gets when Mary catches him off guard by offering him food, or the first time one of the sheep randomly appeared at his side, its bored expression insanely comically next to the utter panic that had made Hiccup’s shoulder rigid as rocks.

The memory is enough to finally make Jack’s laughter subside. He pulls his face from Hiccup’s neck, and sure enough, Hiccup looks halfway between miserable and delighted. It’s a look only he could pull off. Not for the first time, Jack wants to kiss him stupid.

‘Oh, I’m stupid,’ Jack thinks.

“Sorry! Sorry,” he says as he catches his breath, his face sore with the grin that’s completely overthrown his face. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear.”

Hiccup nods like he doesn’t believe Jack, which is fair. “Uh-huh,” he says slowly. 

Jack brings his hands back up to Hiccup’s face. Before he can lose his courage, he leans forward, and is greeted by a mouth as warm as the cheeks under his hands as he kisses Hiccup quickly.

When he pulls back, Hiccup looks utterly dazed. And then he grins, pupils enormous and ears straight as sugar cane as he leans forward and thumps his forehead against Jack’s. Jack leans into it, into the soft brush of Hiccup’s fringe and the bump of their noses. “You could have told me,” Jack says, and delights in the feeling of Hiccup’s brow screwing together, even as smile lines appear at his eyes. 

“Yeah, that’s. Well. I tried telling you the other day? With the—”

“—The green gambler! Oh Gods, I’m so dumb.”

Hiccup barks out a laugh. “Maybe a little,” he says. Jack jabs him fruitlessly in the ribs, which hurts his finger way more than it hurts Hiccup. But it makes Hiccup laugh against him, his tail making a swish noise in the grass as it sways behind him, so it’s entirely worth it. 

Hiccup pulls away from him, arms loosening from Jack’s waist. Before Jack can begin to complain, he sees why—his staff, and a handful of green gamblers clenched tightly in Hiccup’s fist, the stalks crushed in Hiccup’s grasp. “I brought you more,” he starts, his ears doing an odd flutter against his head. “I was trying to make up for the last one I crushed. Which went swimmingly, as you can see so clearly by the evidence.”

Jack wonders how he hadn’t pieced it together before, the little fact that he’s so stupidly smitten by Hiccup, when all he wants to do is kiss the downturned corners of Hiccup’s mouth to see them turn back right side up. 

He takes the flowers, and his staff, and then gladly slides back into Hiccup’s personal space like it’s his own. Hiccup’s tail curls around the backs of his heels. “You could always take me to see the village,” he suggests. He’d had a blank image of a figure flying him to dragon village earlier. His mind fills in the shadow with Hiccup’s silhouette, and Jack feels a little breathless. “Show me the mountaintop you’ve been getting them from.”

Hiccup’s smile is achingly sweet, made all the sweeter by the way he hesitates for just a moment before bringing his hand back up to Jack’s face. As if Jack wouldn’t immediately lean into the touch, which he does. “Is that what it takes to make it up to you?” he asks.

“Oh, that’s a hard one. I was pretty bummed about the flower bit. That, and getting rudely woken up, and now that I think about it, you sort of kicked me with your prosthetic, but I guess I did sort of attack you with my staff? Sorry about that, by the way, but you were running and I drank coffee earlier, which is gross, just so I could catch you, so, really, that’s also on you.”

Jack recognizes the look on Hiccup’s face now, the one that’s escaped him forever—its fondness, and it’s almost enough to warm Jack against the cold of night.

“Kiss me?” Jack asks.

Hiccup obliges.

__________

@aura2023 I DID IT. PART THREE, LIKE I PROMISED. Holy shit, I did NOT think this semester was going to be as demanding as it was, so I apologize for the wait! But I loved the ending you'd put in the tags about Jack recognizing Hiccup in the night by his hugs, and I was determined to bring it to life. I really hope you like this!!

(And now to actually look at my thousand other wip's, siiigghh)

[concussed-to-pieces]

Late July

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Pairing: Agent Whiskey [Jack Daniels]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit explicit.

Summary: Upon hearing about you from Tequila, Jack Daniels seeks you out with a full set of emotional baggage to work through. You happily oblige, helping him craft a scene that just might grant him some peace of mind. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @cookiethewriter @culturalrebel @jackierey09 @crookedmoonsaultpunk @duker42 @agirllovespasta @nelba @pedrosbigdorkenergy @lestrange2703 @youmeanmybrain @luvley-shadow @theocatkov @miscellaneousjunkk @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @buttons-beads-lace @gooddaykate @lackofhonor

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains consensual non-consent (surrender play), light domination, roleplay, unprotected sex, frank discussion of safe words, usage of safe words, dirty talk and light bondage. Remember that fanfictions are not research and that you should never engage in any activity if you do not trust your partner. Stay safe!]

There was just something about you that put people at ease, and Ginger Ale noticed during the interview process. "You have a gift!" She had praised you, her smile unexpected and bright. "I can see why Tequila recommended you for this position."

Granted, being the 'head of first impressions' at a distillery that was actually a front for a secret intelligence agency had its ups and downs, but you enjoyed the work and (if you were honest) the exciting interactions with the Statesman agents. 

Tequila, of course, would practically drape himself across your desk as he regaled you with (hopefully) exaggerated tales of his heroics. The two of you were sexually involved but preferred to keep each other at arm's length out of the bedroom, neither party particularly keen on surrendering your freedom and committing to anything serious at this point of your lives. You admired his dedication to Statesman, and he in turn respected your desire to have a successful career. He also was blatantly mooning over a certain analyst.

Ginger Ale was quieter and sharper than Tequila, her dry humor a joy to witness. She was the one who had done your interview, and she had given you the full behind the scenes tour once your background check went through. She was beautiful, charismatic and smart as a whip. You hoped to one day be as self-assured as she was.

Champ tended to keep to himself for the most part, though you had encountered him several times in the past when he dozed off in a certain chair at the end of a sunlit hallway. The elderly man was like an old tomcat, you decided, able to prowl but more than willing to take it easy.

Whiskey was often away managing the affairs of their New York headquarters and as such, was the one that you interacted with the least. He would come breezing in at all hours, a slow smile and a wink directed your way before he would saunter past. The rare occasions that he engaged you in conversation were nerve-wracking, as you were a little starstruck due to the glowing accounts both Champ and Tequila had given of his prowess in the past.

Ginger Ale was a bit more down to earth, thankfully. "He's just a man who's lost a lot, and his reasons for wanting to change things for the better may not be entirely altruistic." She had informed you concisely when you queried about the origin of one Jack Daniels. You had picked up on the veiled sadness in his dark eyes, the age that seemed to weigh him down that wasn't entirely related to years.

So when the aforementioned Statesman agent had drunkenly expressed a certain desire to you at a company party, you couldn't hide a little spike of curiosity. Mainly because the two of you interacted so rarely. Hell, you wouldn't even call yourselves friends. Tequila must have told him about your side activities.

"Ever since I lost her, I can't fuckin' bring myself to raw anyone else." The confession had come out of left field, but you had done your best to play it off like it was normal. Lord knew you had done enough paperwork in your career at Statesman to understand that agents would just kind of…say things thoughtlessly if they believed they were in a safe environment. A hazard of the job.

"What do you mean, Mr. Daniels?" 

"Call me Jack. Jesus, I ain't that old." He had hiccupped sharply, grimacing. "I just mean I...it's like a mental block. I wanna', I'm excited about it, and everything's fine until I try to come and boom. Python shrivels up like a damn salted slug and I'm left holdin' the bag tryin' to explain myself." He stared into his glass, looking pensive. "Real mood killer."

"Any idea why this might be?" You had prompted, leaning against the bar and idly scanning the throngs of people around you. It wasn't every day that so many of the company's rank and file rubbed elbows with the higher-ups, but you had to assume these economic mixers were what had kept the company (and intelligence agency) on such an even keel. It was a grounding experience, a way to remind the suits of their humble beginnings.

He scoffed out a breath. "Oh I know exactly why. When I lost her, I...we had only learned a little while before that she was havin' a baby. We'd been havin' a rocky time and we were actually thinkin' of breakin' up, but that news…" Jack had tilted his head to glance your way, his brown eyes distant. "If I hadn't gotten her pregnant, she wouldn't have been out shoppin' that day, y'know?" A sad smile had quirked his mouth beneath his mustache. "My fault."

At the time, you had made a noise of sympathy and gone to lay a hand on his arm before you could think better of it. He, instead of shrugging off your touch, actually ended up twining his fingers through your own and giving your hand a light squeeze.

Agent Whiskey's past was a shadowy affair in the Statesman organization. Though to be fair, no one really asked anything about anyone. Ginger Ale reasoned that the less people knew, the safer they and Statesman were in the event of a security breach. 

Anything you learned from any of the agents, you tended to keep close to your heart. It was your nature to gather useful information and foster trust for a rainy day. That personality facet had served you well as you had climbed the ranks from intern to head of first impressions, and knowing that you were someone that could be counted on to hold your cards close put many people at ease.

Including one Agent Whiskey.

"Tequila said you were good at helpin'. I'd be much obliged if you'd consider takin' a crack at my sexual baggage."

...

"Alright so for your words, you've decided on 'sixth' as your 'yes I'm into this', followed by second for 'slow down but don't break character', first for 'slow down and do break character' and finally neutral for 'full stop'." You tapped the customary notepad on your lap, glancing over at the man across the table. The two of you were currently sitting in the kitchen of the vacation cabin that your parents had willed to you, the modest dwelling often your staging ground for affairs like this. The warm wooden decor tended to make your partners feel more at ease and less vulnerable. Perceived safety was, after all, incredibly important when crafting scenarios.

Jack nodded. "Gears are easy for me to remember. Simple." 

"Got it. And no kissing on the mouth. Can I kiss you in other places, or would you prefer I didn't at all?"

"Kissin's fine." Jack allowed. "Whatever you wanna' do is fine, just not on my mouth." You jotted that down. "Hey, I uh...I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate you agreein' to help. I dunno' if this will work, but…" Whiskey rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thanks. When Tequila mentioned your...extracurriculars, I figured he was jus' bein' outta' pocket again."

You grinned at that, giggling a little. "Does he get weird a lot?"

"I mean, he's uh...well, he's got his moments." Jack replied with a smile of his own.

"So," you hummed once you had checked your notes again, "after looking over all the information we've compiled, and the ideas you gave me an outline of, I'm thinking that you may want more of a 'surrender-play' kind of experience." 

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask how that's different from what I already suggested?" 

"Look, you and I both know that I couldn't keep you from moving if you wanted to. Now, if we had a real working dynamic going on and I believed that you would listen and trust me implicitly so that you don't end up hurting yourself or me, then we might have something. But as we are right now, that's not gonna' happen." Whiskey inclined his head with a rueful chuckle, acknowledging the truth of your words. "So I propose that it's more of a scenario where all the agency is removed."

The agent leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "Explain."

"You need a scenario where you aren't in control and there's not even a chance of you being in control, taking any responsibility or guilt from the equation." You elaborated. "Basically, you would surrender your control so that you can indulge guilt-free. A lot of people do this coupled with a roleplay aspect in order to test new things that may be out of character for them."

"You coulda' jus' said you wanted to tie me up, sugar." Jack drawled. "I'll show you some good knots."

"You don't have any issues with being secured to...I guess a chair, probably? We'll keep you upright. If we sprawl you out on a bed that might be a little too vulnerable." You reasoned, waiting for his nod before you wrote it down. "I know it sounds contradictory, but I want you to be comfortable in what we do. Should I leave your clothes on?"

"If you can stand to, I'd appreciate it." The man answered with a cheeky wink. "Bein' naked and restrained is a little too close to the job description." He sighed after a moment, tipping the chair backwards as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Now I warn you, if I'm supposed to be an unwillin' party, I may display a little less Southern hospitality and a little more Southern history with my language, if you catch my drift."

You pursed your lips, squinting at him. "...is that your way of saying you might use a naughty word or two?"

You received a lazy finger-gun in reply, "bingo, cherry pie. You got any names you ain't a fan of bein' called?"

"Oh! I mean, I've heard just about everything in the book." You straightened up as a thought occurred to you, and then pointed back at him sternly. "No slurs."

"Ma'am," Jack sounded aghast, "I am not that breed of Southern gentleman. My lingo can verge on the spicy, but I sure as hell wouldn't stoop to that level." 

You narrowed your eyes to drive your point home. "I really hope not." The agent inclined his head once more, putting a hand over his heart in a display of sincerity.

The front legs of the chair met the floor with a soft clatter, once again putting him on stable footing. "Now, I been wrackin' my brain tryin' to drum up a good premise like you asked, but I ain't exactly big in the screenwritin' department. I figure it could be kinda' like I'd been kidnapped? Drawin' a blank on why my kidnapper would be rawdoggin' me, maybe you can come up with somethin'?" He queried hopefully. 

You furrowed your brow in thought, going silent as you carefully considered the hodgepodge of contributing factors. "Oh, I think I can manage."

...

This deck had been rigged from the start. In theory, you knew that he knew that. Still, he was certainly acting like it stung his pride a bit that he'd fallen into your 'trap' so cleanly. 

Everything was going according to plan. 

Whiskey struggled against the binds that secured him to the kitchen chair. His whip was safely confiscated. Lasso out of reach. Hat was still on his head. He had specifications, after all. 

You left him to wriggle for almost half an hour while you got yourself ready. The man was a secret agent, after all. If he hadn't been restrained for much longer than that at any given point you would be very surprised. 

You finally opened the bathroom door, sauntering out into the cabin's small kitchenette. "Miss me, love?" You crooned, committing to your role as villainous vamp stereotype number six. You had worn a plain set of underwear and an oversized white t-shirt, soft and see-through from the amount of times it had been washed. You got the feeling that if you went more elaborate, you might scare Whiskey off or make him too uncomfortable to really get into it. This scene was all about trust, and he hardly knew you. But he had sought you out for this. All you had to do was follow through.

"Was beginnin' to worry that you forgot about me, ma'am." The agent drawled back, his smile tightly sardonic and his low voice curling hot in your belly. "You fixin' to untie me yet?"

You clicked your tongue, the noise disappointed. "Whiskey, sweetheart, where's the fun in that? If I untie you, you'll just kill me."

"Can't blame a man for tryin'." Jack was absolutely in his element right now. He looked furious. 

You ambled around behind him, slinging your arms around his neck and resting your weight on him briefly. "Remember," you murmured in his ear. "If you need me to slow down, or need to stop entirely, you say…?"

"Second, first and neutral." The agent replied readily. You patted his cheek.

"Good boy." You praised. 

"Ain't my first rodeo." Whiskey's tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips and you wanted to reassure him, but you knew you had a job to do.

"Now, can I get you a light refreshment? Something to drink? Maybe some chips?" You offered, moving to the small refrigerator that you had stocked a little earlier in the day. Planning was imperative for engagements like this. "I have water, sweet tea, Coke…"

"Dammit woman, stop beatin' around the bush! Why the hell do you have me hogtied to this damn chair?!" Jack erupted. 

"So rude." You chided him, removing a water for yourself and then leaning casually against the counter. "You really want to know, Mr. Whiskey?"

"Obviously." He scowled.

"Well be a patient boy and maybe I'll tell you." You hummed, not making eye contact as you unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "It was more than enough trouble for me to get you here in the first place, big shot. Don't rush me."

"Listen, I'll be the first to tell you that I probably ain't who you're lookin' for." He said bluntly. "I'm just a simple liquor tycoon, nothin' more."

"Mr. Whiskey, if you continue to insult my intelligence maybe I will decide I've got the wrong man. And then I'll just get rid of you." You swirled the water in the bottle, fixing him with a thoughtful look. 

"You're talkin' a mighty big game, woman." Jack grumbled. 

You sloshed some of the water on your thin white shirt as if by accident, and began daubing at the gauzy fabric aimlessly. "Whiskey-"

"It's Jack." He spat.

"Oh, we're on a first name basis? How exciting!" You teased him, laughing when he muttered angrily under his breath. He was clearly enjoying the role of 'belligerent definitely-not-a-spy'. "Alright then, Jack. I won't beat around the bush, as you so tactfully put it."

"Hallelujah, some goddamn cooperation." He replied in a sulky tone.

"So, Jack, I need you to come inside me. Strictly so I can bypass Statesman's biomechanical security systems. It's nothing personal, I just assumed you would be the easiest target, you know?" You remarked with a shrug. "The flirty cowboy with the filthy mouth." He stared at you and you raised an eyebrow, half-convinced that his reaction was legitimate. "What? You do have a reputation."

"I hate to break it to ya', but you got the wrong beverage. You're lookin' for Tequila, ma'am." Jack retorted, his voice a little raspy. "You want...what?"

"I need you to come inside me so I can use the your genetic signature to bypass the security." Granted, you were pretty certain that Statesman used exclusively fingerprints, retina scans and time locks, but Whiskey had told you to weave a good story for the setup, not necessarily an accurate one.

Jack swallowed hard. "You've got bats in your fuckin' belfry, woman. You expect me to-"

"Oh no, that's the beauty of this arrangement." You interrupted him, still smiling. "I don't expect you to do anything aside from sit there and stay still while I ride you." 

"Jesus fuck woman, you--shit, isn't there some other way to do this? I ain't keen on the prospect, but if there's literally any other way…" 

"Sorry. This is the only solution that my superiors could get behind." You sighed, feigning regret. "And we might be here a while, from what I've heard." Jack's eyes darted to yours and he flushed, working his jaw. "Don't look so glum! I'm one of the best in my field. I'm sure I'll be able to compensate for your...lack of investment."

"You touch me and I swear to God-"

"Ah ah, naughty boys get gagged." You threatened gently, walking your fingers up the side of his face to stroke them back down his jawline. Jack glared at you, his dark gaze fairly luminous with fury and maybe just a touch of poorly-veiled interest. "Be a good boy and I'll let you talk as much as you want. Maybe I'll even let you play with my tits, hmm?" You asked, cupping your breasts through your still-damp shirt. "Would you like that, love?"

"I…" Jack trailed off, then snapped his eyes back up from your chest. "No!"

You tapped his nose, winking. "Oh I think you would. Don't be so stubborn, Jack." You cocked your head to the side. "No one from Statesman even knows you're gone. No one is coming to rescue you." You informed him, all the playfulness evaporated from your voice. "You're mine now, Jack. My own personal key-card."

"You won't get away with this." Jack snarled.

"I think I already have." You knelt between his legs, running your hands over the jeans that covered his thighs. He squirmed, trying to dislodge you, but you just moved with him. You dug your nails into his thighs. "You keep wiggling and I'm going to have to tighten the ropes, Jack. Is that what you want?"

"Oh you filthy fuckin' woman, you absolute bitch, let me go!" 

"Hmm," you tapped your chin as he kept jerking and straining against the knots. "No." 

Jack froze when your fingers unbuttoned the button at the top of his fly. "Now wait, wait just a damn minute, y-you can't--" he tried to plead.

"Oh I can. And I will." You looked up at him. "As long as we're in the right gear?"

"Sixth, sixth." He affirmed, flashing you a quick smile. You nodded and seamlessly resumed your play.

The zipper of his fly opened devastatingly slow, the agent exhaling raggedly when you pulled up his shirt and palmed his groin gently through the fabric of his boxer briefs. His cock was already half-hard, and you pointed that out with a mean little smirk on your face. "Oh no, looks like someone's interested." You crooned, rubbing your index finger over the head of his still-clothed dick.

"Fuck off, you...y-you-" he swore, rolling his shoulders as if he was testing his bonds. "You little bitch."

"Temper temper." You chided, ducking your head down to mouth over the fabric of his boxers. Jack gasped out another swear over your head, his hips twitching up to meet you before he slammed them back down. "Methinks someone doth protest too much." You snorted, splaying your fingers on the newly-revealed skin of his stomach. "We could make this so much simpler if you would just give in, Jack." You didn't miss the way his skin jumped at your touch, and you smiled against his boxers.

"You'll--you'll have to do better than that." Whiskey breathed. "You think just any ol' woman can get me up?"

You stood, leaning in close and pressing your mouth to his ear. His whole body flinched when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gave him a nice, slow stroke. "Oh, poor thing. You must believe you're really special, hmm? God's gift to mankind every time you take someone to bed." You mocked, your teeth and tongue laving over his earlobe. "We're all so lucky to have you, Jack."

"Hhn-" Jack's shoulders went stiff, the man obviously biting his tongue. 

"You don't have a choice, sweetheart. I'm going to get you hard. Then, I'm going to use your cock. And all you have to do, my lovely, handsome cowboy, is come inside me." You informed him, drawing a finger beneath his chin. "More than once, preferably."

"I'm not usually a man to voice my own shortcomin's, but I must warn you that this will be a futile-" Whiskey's words hitched in his throat when you stroked him again. "Fuck, no, don't touch me like that, you--"

"Stop playing hard to get, Jack." You murmured, slinking your free hand up the back of his neck to massage his scalp right beneath the band of his hat. "Give up."

"Never." He hissed even as his head lolled forward, granting you more access to rub his neck. 

"Pity." You settled back down between his legs and wrapped your lips around his cock. 

"No, no, dammit-" Whiskey growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Don't you fuckin'...no, no, don't use your tongue the-ah f-uck--" His protest died in a pitiful groan when his cock met the back of your throat. "Oh, you--fuckin'--you've got to be shittin' me woman, the whole-?" He grunted out haphazardly as you relaxed your throat and took him all the way down to the base. "You think y-you can take advantage of me jus' cuz' it's been a while since I got laid? Fuck you."

You hummed around his cock, wanting to giggle when he twitched and swore loudly. Your fingers dove past the hem of your underwear, and you moaned against him as you ran your index in slow, steady circles around your clit. 

"I ain't fuckin' you, and I sure as shit am not gonna' come in your pussy." Jack snarled. 

"Oh yes you are." You sang, rising to your feet and slipping your panties off. The white t-shirt came next, baring your breasts to the air-conditioned environment. 

Jack seemed to forget that he was supposed to be vehemently against this yet again as he just...watched while you teased your nipples. You tugged at the taut peaks, rolling them between your fingers and making a show out of the whole bit. 

"I can't wait to have you inside me, filling me up, just pumping me full of your come." You said with a smile, sauntering over until you would be in reach if his hands were free. Jack's tongue made a nervous reappearance and you tugged his chin upwards so you could see his eyes. "Are we still in gear? Or do we need to shift?" You asked. He seemed slightly dazed.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, s-sixth." He stammered. "Sixth, holy shit."

"Mm. Don't disappoint me and maybe I'll let you live." You remarked smoothly, swinging one leg over his lap and straddling him. Jack's shoulders were rigid again and you kneaded at them surreptitiously, trying your best to keep him in the scene and out of his own head.

You were well on your way to soaking wet with arousal. There was nothing better than when you had a partner that trusted you, regardless of whether you had truly earned that trust. Just the fact that they had blind faith in you to execute the endeavor that they needed...it was heady and sweet and you loved every second. 

You rutted your pussy against the underside of Jack's cock, the man snapping his teeth at the sensation. "Too good?" You taunted, laughing when he swore again.

"I can't believe that you think I'm fuckin' enjoyin' th--look, any dick perks up at heavy pet-" 

Cutting Whiskey off mid-sentence was quickly becoming a favorite pastime, you realized as you angled your hips and let the head of his cock push past your pussy lips. "In, just a little, give you a taste, sweetheart…" you sighed, rocking your hips forward and back but not allowing him to sink any deeper into you. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" You cajoled as he shuddered beneath you. "Just keep being good, my sweet cowboy, and this will all be over so much sooner." 

"No, no-" He struggled to move, to do anything, but you had made certain to tie him exactly as he had specified. "Dammit, when I get free of here, I'll--"

"Shh, you think too much." You tapped your index finger to his lips, smoothing it over the bristle of his mustache. "Focus on your job right now, and everything will be fine." 

Jack turned his face away, inadvertently presenting the thick column of his neck to you. And you, channeling your inner villain, leaped at the opportunity to lick and bite at the bared skin. He made a strange noise, a combination of a moan and a whine that had you raising an eyebrow. 

"Is someone a little sensitive there?" 

"No, I am not." He answered through gritted teeth. "I hate that you're touchin' me, that's all!"

"Hmm, it doesn't sound like you hate it." You mused, suckling gently at the spot where his jaw met his throat. You were very careful not to leave marks, as that had been another specification. Whiskey struggled underneath you again, only succeeding in pumping his cock up into you slightly.

"Don't, don't--" His voice actually cracked and you smiled, nuzzling your nose beneath his jawline and letting his dick settle deeper.

"Oh no, it seems like you do want to fuck me after all." You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back and stroking over the base of his cock with two fingers. "Warming up to the idea of being my little fuck toy, Jack?" You teased, noting the way his knuckles whitened from his grip on the rope and his Adam's apple bobbed with the force of his convulsive swallow at your words. "I could just keep you here like this forever, you know. All tied up, helpless for me…" You squeezed the base of his cock and he gasped, trying to stifle the noise. "Soon, I'd have you trained so that you couldn't come from any other pussy aside from mine. Wouldn't that be fun?" 

Without waiting for an answer, you let the last few inches of his dick enter you. You leaned back on his thighs, feeling the muscles coil and strain beneath your touch as you reached down and grazed your clit. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, those brown eyes fixated on the motions of your fingers even as his cock split you open. You were grateful that he was secured, you weren't sure if you would have been able to take him otherwise. His cock curved thickly against your back wall, the engorged head throbbing back and forth over the area that made your whole body shudder in delight. 

Whiskey's jaw was taut, his shoulders set in a rigid line that made you ache to get him to come undone in you.

"You're so quiet." You pouted, raising your hand and brushing your wet index finger over his slack lower lip. "Aren't you having a good time?"

His chest abruptly expanded, like he had forgotten to breathe for a moment or two. "Fuck you." Whiskey seethed, making you chuckle softly. "I ain't nobody's goddamn fuck toy."

"Sweetheart," you chided as you sat up. "That's not a very nice thing to say to the person warming your cock right now." You deliberately clenched down on him and Jack swore under his breath, shaking his head. "I can make you feel so good, Whiskey, if you just give me what I want." You insisted, cupping his face and pulling halfway off of his cock. 

"N-N...No." He replied weakly.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking out your shoulders. "Well, I tried." Your hands landed on his shoulders and you gripped down to steady yourself, your hips meeting his own with a wet slap! of skin. Jack's chest heaved, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you began to ride him roughly. "All I wanted was for you to come in me. I don't feel like that's asking for much!" You complained petulantly, rolling your hips against his when he was hilted in you with an agonizingly slow grind of your body.

Jack bit out a low "fuck," those tense shoulders trembling under your touch. You tucked your face into his neck to tease the sensitive area even more, your tongue tracing random patterns that made him squirm and writhe underneath you. "I don't--can't, can't, don't make me--" he tried to protest, his words fractured and pitiful. 

"Yes you can, and you're going to." You snapped, taking a handful of hair at the nape of his neck so you could urge his head back further, leaving his throat at your mercy. "You're coming in me, Jack! Give up!"

...

"First!" He choked out, and you immediately slowed to a crawl. Your touch on him gentled significantly, no longer demanding but cradling, caressing. 

"Easy, easy." You soothed, the unrelenting assault of your perfect hips gone to a slow and careful rhythm, back and forth like a porch swing in the summer heat. Your eyes searched his own, concern shining through.

Jack was speechless, his blind panic melting away at the sound of your regular voice. What the hell just happened? He licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they had gotten. "Sorry, I uh-"

"No apologies." You murmured. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Would you like to stop now?"

Whiskey took a long moment, running a mental check on his body. Nothing was sore, nothing seemed out of line. Everything was raring to go. 

Everything aside from his brain, that is. The damn thing wouldn't stop conjuring up scenes of you pregnant and everything going to absolute fucking shit. It didn't matter that he had zero attachment to you, it didn't matter that you were on birth control. This was how it always was. 

Every damn time things got serious with a new interest, "oh, let's start a family," Whiskey just wanted to curl up into a ball. Without fail, like clockwork, he would shut down. 

And then the accusations would start, the distrust, "How come you can do it with protection but not without?" and it was disheartening, crushing to go through again and again. Explaining didn't seem to do a lick of good, it was always just that he was stringing people along, that he was a damn selfish prick, that he didn't care about what his partner wanted.

That couldn't be further from the truth, of course, but maybe that was his own fault for not dropping the bomb before getting attached to someone. He just couldn't ever seem to justify asking a person on their second or third date, "hey so what's your thoughts on having kids?" It felt manipulative, cheap, and if he was being honest, he knew for a fact that sometimes just the idea of having children was enough to scare a potential interest off. 

You were the first person to try and help Jack really wrap his head around this whole issue. And yeah, that was the whole point in sussing you out, but…

Tequila didn't tell him that you actually gave a shit, or at least you were damn good at acting like you did. Whiskey bit his lip. "I'm okay." He said finally, trying for a smile.

"Anything chafing? Do you need some water?"

"I…" Jack trailed off. "Huh, I admit I am a bit parched. But that means you'd have to get up." He realized unhappily.

"Were you enjoying yourself?" You asked, sounding curious. 

Whiskey got the hysterical idea in his head of you pulling out some sort of satisfaction survey at the end of your engagement, the notion making him smirk slightly. "God, yeah. I...yeah." He flushed a little bit. "Dunno' if I ever got this far after…after all my mental hangups and stuff. The fact that I don't have a say in the matter seems to be helpin', though."

"Okay, don't go anywhere. I'll get you some water." You patted his thigh, cautiously settling your feet on the floor and then going to stand with a quivery little gasp that absolutely stroked his ego.

Jack couldn't help his own groan at the loss of your heat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Damn it woman, has anyone ever told you that your pussy is fuckin' perfect?" He muttered, his usual honeyed words suddenly clumsy in his mouth. "I mean, hell."

You laughed, bending over to dig in the small fridge for another water. Whiskey felt his entire body throb at the sight of you presenting yourself to him like that, and he sucked in a breath at your obvious teasing. Even in the soft light of the kitchen, he could see the glisten of the wetness between your legs. Hell yes, he found himself thinking stupidly as you turned back around. 

"I'm just glad that you're doing alright. That's the most important part to me, after all." You assured him, unscrewing the cap on the water and tipping it to his lips.

Jack gulped greedily, feeling a few droplets escape his mouth and run down his neck to blot his collar. "I am. One hundred percent." He said firmly after he had slaked his thirst. "Let's keep goin'."

"If you're sure, absolutely." You acquiesced, smiling again. Placing the water bottle on the kitchen table, you then swung your leg over his thighs like you were vaulting back into the saddle. Jack held his breath, waiting for you to welcome his cock back into your body. And God he was so hard, he couldn't remember ever being this hard, what the hell--

But strangely, you didn't immediately resume from where you had left off. Instead, you put your arms around his neck and actually rested your forehead against his own, bumping his hat upwards. 

Jack swallowed roughly, confused. 

"Let me take this from you." You whispered. Whiskey felt pinned by your stare, he felt as if you could see every terrible thing he had ever done, every transgression laid bare under the weight of your gaze. "Let go of it. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you." 

The words washed over him, soft and sweet. Your fingers slipped up into the hair at the nape of his neck to toy with the mussed ends that lurked there. The whole exchange was oddly intimate and Jack found himself at a loss yet again, simply grating out, "sixth," when he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

You reached down and stroked his cock, rubbing the head of it against your clit. And Jesus he could feel you, the difference in heat, the slick--

"Are you gonna' take it from me, sweet girl?" He hissed through his teeth like it wounded him to ask, trying desperately to cling to the illusion that he wasn't willing. "Take everythin' I've got?"

The blur between reality and this playdate was getting messier by the second. He wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself in you, spend every last drop inside the hot embrace of your quivering cunt. He wanted that. Jesus Christ, this wasn't part of the bargain.

This was a pantomime, specially designed pornography that existed only to coax a very specific reaction from his confused body. So why did he wish he had met you years ago? Why was he suddenly hoping and praying that the sounds you were making were legitimate instead of exclusively for his benefit, hoping that you were also enjoying this?

You angled your hips and sank back down on his lap, your hands going to your breasts where you proceeded to fondle and tease them until your nipples looked like they ached.

Whiskey fucking ached himself to wrap his lips around one pert little peak, swirl his tongue across the tip and make you come undone, rut his dick up into you until you cried out his name and soaked him--

Whoa cowboy, he chastised himself, a little startled by how sharp the longing was. You just kept fucking yourself on his cock, that hot, wet little pussy molded perfectly to every ridge of his member and he had never been this hard, this ready in his life. Despite the air conditioning in the cabin, your skin shone with sweat from all the work you were putting in and Whiskey couldn't recall a time where he had been more appreciative of someone else accomplishing a task within his field of vision.

Your hand slipped down, down, and Jack found himself following the trajectory until it delved between your legs and you started playing with yourself. "Jack," you crooned his name and it was like a prayer, reverent and soft, tender enough to coil itself around his lungs and choke him to death without a whisper of protest. You parted your legs even wider in his lap, exposing yourself to him so he could watch his cock slide in and out of you, so he could see himself fucking you open.

"Are you gonna' come for me, sweet girl?" He gasped, craning his neck and managing to tilt his head so he could mutter into your ear, "you just gonna' wrench one out for me, beautiful?"

"Mm, no, I'm not coming until after you come." You whimpered, still moving your hand. "But I'm so close, Jack. I want to come."

Your plaintive whine had him ablaze. God, he had never wanted to please someone so damn badly in his life. "I know you do, sweet girl." He murmured huskily, exhaling hot over the shell of your ear and loving the way you quivered in his lap. "You're so good, lettin' me blow my load before you get off--gonna' pump me dry when you come, aren't you? Just keep me inside you until that little pussy is all fucked out," he growled, barely aware of the words that tumbled from his mouth. 

All he knew is that you were all a-tremble at his voice, your body as hot as late July against his chest, your eyes heavy with adoration that he did not deserve and God, he couldn't get used to that look even if it was fake. What if you stayed? he wondered absently. What if you stayed?

Oh fuck, he was about to come. Panic jabbed like the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades and Whiskey went silent, his teeth bearing down on his lower lip and his eyes slamming shut as he focused harder than he ever had in his life.

The smell of you, the sounds, the heat, the little spasms of your cunt around his cock…

Yes. Yes, God yes, he could do this-- 

"Come in me, sweetheart." Begging him, pleading, demanding, "Jack-!" You cried his name.

Whiskey groaned hoarsely, so low it was almost painful, and let go. He bucked his hips up against you as best as he could, minute little thrusts while he came harder than he had in years. "Oh," he snarled, gritting his teeth, "fuckin' Christ woman, I think you've ruined me, Jesus fuck."

Your hands threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck again and you held him, not tightly, but just enough to keep him steady, anchored. "There," you said abruptly, the snide, put-upon tone of your role contrasting wildly with the gentleness of your touch, "was that so difficult?"

Jack burst out laughing, not overly concerned with how strange of a reaction that was. Hell, was he relieved? "Jesus fuckin' Christ, you're great." He remarked breathlessly. "I don't even know what just happened."

"Oh?" You replied, raising an eyebrow. "The mess between my legs seems to allude to you possibly having an orgasm. Jury's still out though."

He grimaced apologetically, glancing down. "Sorry darlin'. It's been a while, y'know?" You rose up off of him again and he grunted as his cock slipped free from your body. Whiskey felt half-drunk, relief and release combining into a potent cocktail that left him boneless in the chair. 

You quickly put your shirt back on and then crouched at his feet, beginning the arduous process of untying him. Jack just sat there, watching you drowsily. He couldn't do much else, really. "Any numbness or chafing?" You asked quietly, stirring him momentarily from his daze.

"Nah, nothin' yet." He replied, straightening his freed left leg and rotating his ankle in his boot. "A little stiff, but I've survived worse than that." 

"And how do you feel?" You questioned, "physically and emotionally."

Jack gnawed at his lower lip, trying to force his sluggish brain past the haze of serotonin in order to give you a satisfactory answer. "...good." He said finally, scrambling to elaborate, "or uh, better, I guess. More okay than I've been in a fuckin' while." It wasn't a lie, he was surprised to discover. He hadn't actually put much stock into this endeavor, figuring it would be a fun little diversion that would end just like every other time. Of course, it didn't hurt that you were easy on the eyes, prettier than a peach if he was being honest with himself.

Your smile was bright and Jack's stomach knotted confusingly. "I'm glad."

His right leg was released and he shifted his weight in the seat, groaning happily when his hip popped. "Hey, wait." The agent belatedly realized, "you didn't-?"

"We were here for you." You reminded him. "Not me."

"Whoa now, that don't seem fair at all!" Whiskey protested, taken aback by your nonchalance. "You just put in all the work!"

Your laugh tripped down his spine like an aftershock. "Don't get bent out of shape! It's standard policy, Mr. Whiskey. Once the desired result of the scene has been acquired, the scene ends and I start with aftercare."

"B-But--you didn't get to get off though!" 

"Me 'getting off' wasn't specified in our planning." 

"I needed to specify that shit?! I figured you'd just kinda'..." His right arm was free now and Jack seized the opportunity to make a certain gesture, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, I was at your mercy!" He continued, bewildered. "You totally coulda' just kept goin'-"

"Yes, and that's exactly why when the desired result has been achieved, the scene ends." You interjected firmly. "Because you trusted me enough to let me take control, and I'm not about to break that trust by doing something selfish on a whim."

Jack exhaled hard, scooting his hat a little further back on his head so he could study you. You didn't look disappointed, or annoyed with him. He wondered how many times you had fielded ignorant questions like his own and he cringed at himself. "I'm...shit, I'm sorry. I don't have any right to be all shitty about it." He apologized as you moved out of his field of view to untie the rope securing him to the back of the chair. "I just feel like you worked so hard an' got nothin' out of your end of the bargain."

"It's sweet of you to be concerned about that, but don't take it personally, okay?" You assured him, "I do this because I enjoy it. The whole experience, not just the finale." The ropes around his chest sagged and Jack slid forward a bit in the seat, relaxing. 

"Can I get that water again? Christ, I need a cigarette and a tumbler of the strong stuff after all that." He joked, clumsily tucking his cock back into his boxers. You pressed the bottle to his hands and he nearly dropped it, chuckling self-consciously. "Whups, sorry. I had my fists all bunched up so my fingers are stiff." Jack proceeded to down the rest of the bottle, wiping his mouth and mustache with the back of his hand after the fact. "So...what exactly is it you do for Tequila?" He queried nosily.

You laughed at him and God, God he loved the sound of your laugh. "That, Mr. Whiskey, is on a need-to-know basis. Just like this little soiree between the two of us." You chided, your eyes bright with good humor. "I would never violate a partner's trust in me."

Jack tipped the bottle in your direction, as if making a toast. "I'll drink to that, partner. What's next on the menu?"

"We'll talk out the scene and wind back down. Get cleaned up. I'll probably…" you paused, squinting at the clock over the sink. "You want some pizza? There's a joint not far from here that serves pies and chicken wings until midnight."

Jack groaned appreciatively, "I knew you were my kinda' gal. Lead the way to the debrief, ma'am."

It didn't really matter in the long run, he supposed. You obviously weren't interested in anything serious (if only because he figured that your flings with the stereotypical 'bad boy' Tequila would have become more regular in spite of the younger man's painful crush on Ginger Ale), and he could respect that. Still though, he couldn't help feeling a touch morose over the possibility of never engaging with you again. 

He toyed with the idea of asking you for another 'appointment', but dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it arrived. Better to quit while he was ahead.

Or rather, he amended ruefully as he settled down across from you in the diner booth, his hair still damp and curling slightly beneath his hat from the quick wash he had indulged in at your cabin, better to quit now before I make even more of a fool of myself.

Part Two

[gigilberry-wips]

if wishes were stars

This is my secret santa gift for @kirkwords​!

It’s a bit late, but technically I got it done on time sooooo here you go! I hope you enjoy this and I wish you and everyone here a very, very Happy Holiday!!

Word Count: 3,071

AO3 link

･ﾟ✧*: ♡ ･ﾟ✧ *:

In a secluded street of a nondescript town, there lived a run-down little toy store. What was special about this store was that it was owned by a man named Nicholas St. North, otherwise known as Santa Claus.

Not that he admitted to such a thing. On first glance, he didn’t much look the part either – instead of a fat and jolly little grandpapa, what you were met with was a tall, imposing wall of a man, with a rumbling, earth deep voice and tattooed arms that had likely lifted a reindeer or two in their time.

But the jolly part was still there, twinkling in his eyes. And every toy he made seemed to hold a touch of that fairytale magic.

A whispering, fluttering little thing, beating deep inside.

Thump … thump … thump …

Thump

A pair of cloth eyes blinked. They blinked again.

Looking down, they found two pudgy, cotton-stuffed arms. Those arms led into the puffed sleeves of a faded dress that might have once been pink but through age and time and the general negligence of items left behind and forgotten about had eventually faded to a dull, stained beige.

On one corner of the dress was a curling, embroidered word. Rapunzel. That was her name.

Rapunzel sat up. From where she was on the floor, there was not much to see beyond the wall of cardboard boxes. The dust motes hardly stirred in the dim lighting, and the few spiders spinning their webs ignored her presence entirely.

But in the distance was noise. Things moving around, talking, what might have been a few strains of music. Was it a party? Rapunzel liked parties.

She toddled up onto her stout little feet and followed the sounds. The boxes were not all uniform; every now and then they let through shards of light. Rapunzel made sure to pass through each of them – or at least she tried; some were too high up for her to reach. Occasionally she would stop and stare at how they lit up her dusty skin, or made the occasional stray glitter sparkle on the ground.

When the wall of boxes ended, Rapunzel did not find a party. But far above her head were strings of sparkling lights, enclosed in clear glass spheres. They looped in and out of the shelves that lined the isle, creating a woven canopy of brilliant yellow light. Large work tables occupied the space within the isle, pushed against the shelves and stretching up so tall that Rapunzel couldn’t see where they ended or what they held.

Rapunzel wandered amongst them. Her feet made prints in the dust that covered the floor, but she didn’t know that, not when her head was craned up and her sight was filled with floating lights.

She was so caught up in them that she didn’t notice when someone noticed her. She didn’t see it when that someone climbed down to reach her. And she definitely didn’t hear them until they stuck out their hand and said: “Hello!”

Rapunzel yelped. To her right was a towering pile of junk heaped under a table. And crouched on an outcropping was a colourless boy.

That is, everything from his clothes to his skin was coloured stark, pasty white, even his hair and cheeks and mouth. The only thing time and wear had done was fade his once fancy looking clothes to old cream and add several moth holes and tattered strands to it. The hand he held out was made of segments, smooth and hard as marble.

"Why are you shiny?"

The boy blinked two black pinpricks he had for eyes at her. He tilted his head. "... Pardon?"

"Your face, I mean. It looks a bit shiny where the light hits it." Rapunzel gently touched his hand with her soft mitt. "And your hand, why is it hard? And why is it shaped like this?"

"Oh ... I guess that's because I'm made of clay." The boy touched his face. His fingers made a light tap-tap sound. "My hand is like this because I'm a puppet ... I was a puppet. I'm not anymore. I'm free. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I gave myself a name." He pointed to himself. "I’m Jack. I like the name so it’s mine now. What's yours?"

"My name is Rapunzel."

"Is it really? How do you know?"

"My dress has my name on it." Rapunzel held out her dress and showed off the embroidery. Surely he'd never seen stitching this pretty before, and it spelled her name so that meant her name was pretty and good, too.

"Do you always listen to what your dresses tell you? You're funny." He went to poke it but Rapunzel batted his hand away.

"Well, if you don't like it-"

"I didn't say that. It's nice - really, it is!" Jack laughed, even as Rapunzel sulked. "In fact, I've got a friend who's playing dress-up right now. She'll tell you it's pretty, too. Do you want to meet her?"

"You have friends?" So there were other dolls there. Then another thought hit her. "Can I be your friend?"

"Sure you can!" Jack shook her hands. "There! Now we're friends. Come on, let's go meet the others!"

At first Rapunzel thought that Jack was going to make them climb up the junk to get to the table's surface. But instead, Jack led her down a winding path through the debris, until they heard a raised voice and the sound of laughter.

The heart of the junk pile opened up to a cleared space. A desk lamp off to the side illuminated two figures.

The laughter was from a wooden soldier. His paint was chipped and peeling, and where he should’ve had a black boot to match the one on his right leg, there was instead a rusted nail jammed crookedly into the wood.

While he sat on a pencil box and held his sides, a girl doll twirled in the middle of the space. Her long, puffy hair was a shiny red and she wore the most outrageous outfit Rapunzel’s button eyes had ever seen. The bedazzled purple headpiece didn’t even match the rest of it. The moment she caught sight of Jack and Rapunzel she brandished a sword bigger and wider than the spindly arms that wielded it.

“But hark! What is that I spy?” She declared. “A rascal! How dare the miscreant show his face?! Doest thou wish for a flogging, foul knave? For I shall bestow it myself!”

Jack ran up to her and dropped to one knee, flinging his arms out. “Why would I fight such a fair princess when we could dance the night away?”

She waved her sword at him and threatened to chop his head off. Meanwhile, the soldier sitting off to the side laughed even harder.

“… That’s not … how … it goes … at all …” He wheezed helplessly.

The girl tossed a grin at him. “Close enough, right?” She hung the sword in a makeshift shawl-turned-belt and raised a smug eyebrow at Jack. “You hear that? That’s the sound of success. You’re not the only one who gets to be funny around here, Jackie boy. Eat it and weep.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how that goes either.” Jack stumbled up, his joints knocking together.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Now tell us who your new friend is.”

Rapunzel wandered up to the group. She did a shallow curtsy. “Greetings, all. My name is Rapunzel. I’m happy to meet you.”

“And we’re happy to meet you, too.” Jack pointed to the toy soldier. “That is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. There’s a really long and windy story about how he chose his name.”

Hiccup shrugged. “I’ll tell it to you if you want to hear it.”

Rapunzel skipped over to him and shook his hands. “I’d love to! I love stories! Please tell me whenever you like.”

“Uh, wow. Thanks?” Hiccup chuckled. “It’s nice to meet you too?”

“Okay, okay, okay. That’s enough of that.” They both looked over at Jack. Jack grinned. He swept his arms up and showcased the shiny girl in the shiny dress. “This is Princess Merida of Clan DunBroch.”

“Not anymore I’m not!” Merida swatted at him, and he spun out of the way cackling.

Pulling her sword out again, she swung it up. “No longer am I Princess Merida. From now on, I wish to be the warrior queen Boudica! Hyah!”

She did a spin and a leap, making the layered skirt swirl in her wake and the headdress fly off. She landed in front of Rapunzel, knelt on the ground and sword pointed at Rapunzel’s chin.

Rapunzel obligingly clapped. “Very good!”

“Thank you, thank you. All in a day’s work.” Merida brushed herself off and stood.

“Why don’t you want to be Merida anymore?”

“Because I’m one of several dozen Merida princess dolls.” Merida rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to be the same as them. I don’t even know who this ‘Princess Merida’ is. I mean, sure, the name is fine, but does it really need a Princess in front of it? I’d rather just be Merida, and not-” Merida shook her outfit out. Rapunzel giggled. “-this, you know? That’s why I’m changing my wardrobe.”

On the other side of the clearing were racks of doll clothes and a large changing station. Many of the clothes were strewn about on the ground. Half of them were almost as outrageous as whatever Merida wore, the rest not looking like they’d even fit on her. These friends must have been here for a while.

A warrior queen, was it? Rapunzel had never heard of that, or much of anything really, but that didn’t mean she wanted to miss out on the fun. “Can I help, too?”

“Would you? Fantastic!” Merida looped her plastic arm through Rapunzel’s. “Let’s get to it. To start, I was thinking we’d look into something green …”

They did eventually find a dress that Merida liked, after many more dramatic outfit changes and general silliness. Granted, it drooped around the shoulders and she had to kick out the skirt to walk in it, but she said it was ‘comfortable for movement’ and ‘blending into the surroundings’. Rapunzel and Jack also dug up a proper belt for Merida to store her sword on.

“I think this calls for a celebration.” Rapunzel tugged the belt more securely and straightened up.

“What’s the occasion?” Jack asked.

“Because why not? Because we found a new dress for Merida. Because I met all of you and because we’re here together. Let’s do something nice.”

From where she admired herself on a plate, Merida smiled at Rapunzel through her reflection. “I think that’s brilliant.” Giving her hair one last flounce, she spun around. “What do you suggest we do? Shall we do a dance? A play? Want to go exploring?”

“I have an idea.”

They all looked towards Hiccup. Laid at his side was a trumpet about as long as he was tall that Rapunzel hadn’t noticed before. He used that to slowly pull himself upright and started walking into the junk pile, using the trumpet like a cane. “Follow me.”

They wound their way down one of the twisting paths until they came out to find a giant table leg. Unlike the others, this table leg had a strange device attached to it. There was a large box – what it was for, Rapunzel didn’t know – with long strands of belts tied to it. Those belts went up, up, up so high it passed above the table and out of sight.

The box had a little door that Hiccup swung open. “Get in here.”

Jack and Merida easily walked in, while Rapunzel craned her head up at the structure.

“What’s this supposed to do?” She asked. She almost missed the door and walked right into the side of the box when Hiccup caught her arm.

“It’ll take us up. Look.” Next to the box was a large red button, bolted onto the table leg. Hiccup pushed the button.

The button lit up bright red. Something hummed above their heads, and then the belts began to move. And they moved the box with it.

Up they went. Rapunzel gripped the rim of the box, which came up to her belly, happy as could be. The ground grew further and further the higher up they went, until they reached the table top and the ride met its end.

There were many things scattered on the table. But what caught Rapunzel’s eye was the structure right in the middle of it. It was a dollhouse. It was very large, at least three stories tall, and made of sturdy, unpainted wood. The best part was that it had a flat roof, with a few chimneys growing out of the corners.

Without a second thought, Rapunzel ran to it and started climbing it. The roof had a much better view of the lights, and she spun around and around and made them all blend together, bumping into Jack or Merida along the way and laughing with them.

The lights went dark.

They blinked at each other, button eyes and plastic and paint.

“… Where’s Hiccup?” asked Merida’s voice.

The door to the roof swung open. “Here.” There was Hiccup. “How do you like it?”

Rapunzel stumbled forward until she found his hand. “Why’d the lights go off?”

“The lights are connected to the outlet over there. I unplugged the wire.”

“Aww that’s not fair.” There was Jack, bumping into both of them. “We were having fun!”

“Look – no, no. Not at me. Look up.”

Rapunzel looked up. With the lights gone, it was easy to see that the ceiling above was made of glass. Through the glass was a blanket of starlight.

The dolls huddled together, hushed by the sight. Something about the light of the stars and the quiet of the room and the darkness that shrouded them made them keep close to one another.

On occasion, one would murmur a thought, or another hum a tune. Some thoughts led to others, which led to strands of conversation.

They passed those conversations between each other, lying on their backs and staring at the sky.

“Of course I remember how I came here.” Jack scoffed. “I escaped.”

“Exciting, I’m sure.” Even in the dark, Merida’s voice carried her eye roll.

“Shush, you. It was either that or they sent us to the scrap pile.” A sigh in the dark, followed by shuffling noises. “I remember hearing them talking, alright? I was supposed to be part of a set. But the other puppets, they said … that we came out wrong. Apparently, we were supposed to have bigger heads or something, be- what was it … exaggerated. We were supposed to have ‘exaggerated features’. But, well, here I am.” Jack waved his arms in the air, so that they showed up black against the sky. “I don’t know what happened to the other puppets from my batch, but I didn’t want to go so soon. So I escaped when no one was looking and ended up here.”

“… Okay, so that’s mildly interesting.”

“What about you, princess? What got you to come here?” Merida gave him a half-hearted shove. He went with it, and then rolled back to flop an arm on her.

“… Just me being myself, I guess.” Merida hummed. “I was up one night with the other dolls. The other Merida ones were alright, and I think … some of the other princesses, too, maybe, and a few more. But the rest of the dress up dolls were so annoying! All they wanted to do was comb each other’s hair or have tea parties or sing songs and that’s it. And like, those things are fine. I don’t mind them. But there should be more to life, shouldn’t there? Like going on adventures and fighting monsters and saving the world.”

“… Like in a story.” Rapunzel said.

“… yeah. Like in a story. Just like that.” Merida reached over Jack and squeezed her hand. Jack made a protest of being smushed, but Merida blew a raspberry at him and Rapunzel patted his head.

It was nice, being like this. Friends were nice.

“Do you remember how you came here?” Rapunzel turned her head to the right, where Hiccup was.

A pause, interrupted by a distant bell chime. “I remember … I remember waking up around books.”

“That’s how he knows so many stories.” Merida said.

“You’re the one who’s been here the longest, I think. Longer than me.” Jack’s voice went softer. “… that’s a long time, isn’t it?”

None of them answered. It wasn’t easy to tell what time was or wasn’t, when one was a doll.

“… Can you think of any story right now?” Rapunzel asked, to fill the silence.

“I think there’s one about the stars? You’re supposed to make a wish on one and it’ll come true.”

“Well, there are plenty of them here so that means plenty of wishes, right?”

“No, um … I’m not sure that’s how it works, Jack.” Hiccup shook his head. “It has to be … there’s supposed to be some other condition to it. Something special about it. Or about the wishing.”

“I know what I’m wishing for.” Rapunzel said. With one hand in Hiccup’s and another in Jack’s, Rapunzel spoke to the stars. “I wish that we can all stay together.”

A moment of quiet, with only their thoughts and the strange fluttering in their chests.

“… For how long?” Merida whispered.

“For as long as we’re friends. We’re friends now, right?”

“… we are.”

“We’re friends.”

“Friends for good.”

Friends to keep. Friends to stay.

In the dark where no one could see it, Rapunzel smiled.

She smiled for the moment and the company she had. She smiled for the lights she’d seen before and the stars she saw now. She smiled for the promise she’d made on the stars.

The stars. What beautiful things. To every corner of the room, to every corner of the sky, they breathed their glittering, infinite light. Like a promise of forever in an ever changing world. That was such a strange concept for lost, little souls, who had no place of their own but where they were, with no perception of yesterday or tomorrow, only the present. Only now.

In the sky, the stars carried wishes. Of things lost and things found.

In the dark, the night carried dreams.

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

(There's No Place Like) Jake's House for Christmas

{I’ve decided to post some Holiday one-shots during this Holiday season!! Leading up to Christmas, I’ll post a one-shot for a few different King Ships so be on the look out!!}

Summary: Cuthbert’s toes were going to break off in a few seconds if he didn’t switch positions but the glittering Christmas lights would never get put up that way. He continued to stand on his tip-toes, pressing the green wire of multi-colored bulbs against their wall. 

He glanced over his shoulder to spot his husband digging through the box of dusty decorations with something like pensive curiosity on his face. Almost as if he had trouble seeing the point in decorating at all, which Cuthbert knew was a very likely possibility. It might irritate him if Roland didn’t flash him genuinely warm smiles every twenty minutes. 

Fandom: The Dark Tower

Ships: Roland/Cuthbert, Jake/Benny, Susannah/Eddie 

Word Count: 6,773

The year of Jake’s 13th Birthday had so far been the busiest one in the Deschain-Allgood household. The husbands had finally managed to gather a regular crowd at their own bar which they’d opened just the previous year (despite all obstacles from outside and inside sources). And just a few weeks shy of Jake’s big day, their old, ‘We’re Homophobic but won’t say it out-loud’ neighbors moved out of the sweet brick house to their right. Roland had helped carry out boxes just to make them uncomfortable one last time. Loving Father and darling son had played an extra long game of catch there in the front-lawn while the old sweethearts ‘politely’ hid their scowls. 

From that point on, dead silence was all that came from next door. Roland had been pleased with the idea of having no obnoxious neighbors coming to replace them but just days before Jake’s birthday, a large moving truck rolled down the street. It had hiccupped like an old man before parking up against the Robinson’s old curb. Cuthbert had just enough time to spy on them through the safety of their large Livingroom window before he was due to open their bar for the night. “Young enough to be our kids, maybe.” He’d wrinkled his nose as Jake observed the couple for himself. 

“You sure that one isn’t yours, dad?” Jake bumped Cuthbert’s arm and gestured to the skinny long-haired man pushing his girlfriend up the walk-way in her wheelchair. They’d stayed silent again for a moment or two, father and son kneeling on the breaking couch. The neighbor turned to get a box then, showing off a t-shirt which read ‘Somebody who hates me went to Colorado & all they got me was this dumbass shirt’. 

Cuthbert and Jake fell into eerily similar sounding hysteric laughter while Roland finally attempted to sneak some glances. 

They’d had to order in that night because Roland burned their dinner. 

More time began to pass and Jake realized he’d have to save himself from the embarrassment of having 1 one incredibly recluse father and 1 overly-social dad and make the first neighborly move all on his own. 

That had been accomplished by playing out in the backyard with Oy on the finest of autumn afternoons. He kept himself busy until he suspected someone on the other side of that wood fence had come out to enjoy the weather. So...

He picked up his catching ball and ‘accidentally’ tossed it over. 

What he hadn’t known was that his neighbor, later introduced as Eddie Dean, had been sitting in a lounge chair positioned perfectly for him to get popped in the shoulder. 

However, Eddie of New York hadn’t cared. He played about 15 minutes worth of catch with Jake until gathering his girlfriend, Susannah, for a formal family introduction. 

Jake didn’t get to hear much of that first conversation they’d had with his Father’s but he didn’t need to. For he’d always had a knack for sensing certain things. What he felt from Eddie and Susannah was an outpour of warmth and determination for life...Jake supposed that was exactly what tied Roland to them so instantly. 

: : : : : : : : : Time had slipped through young Jake’s fingers like the fluffy snow which now fell from the gray clouds hovering above the neighborhood. Silver bells were ringing out for Christmas and the upcoming New year. 

He passed through the cold, dead eyes of many Snowmen on his walk home from the last day of school. He pulled aimlessly at his heavy coat (old and comforting, passed down from Cuthbert) when he felt a sudden jolt of shock that took a bit of his breath away. He didn’t have to look to know who that was. 

There against the white fuzzy sky and curling Jake’s back in a forward hunch was Benny Slightman and his familiar toothy grin. “Merry Christmas Jake!” 

“Gee, thanks Benny.” He did his best to hide his amused expression, trying to look back at him as best as he could. Benny shifted and looped his arms around his neck with ease. “Happy Holidays, here’s a broken back.” He huffed yet hiked the slightly smaller boy up to keep steady. 

Benny only chuckled happily, he felt the breath on his ear as he wiggled his feet. “This isn’t the way to your house...?” 

Jake rolled his eyes as he started to turn around. “Astute observation Benny.” He reached up to move his friend’s hand down to avoid being choked. “I was going to walk past your house to see if I’d run into you and....” 

Another laugh. Benny tightened his grip and enjoyed the sounds of crunching snow under his friend’s feet. He nuzzled his face into the dip between Jake’s cheek and shoulder. 

Those same snowmen from before, with eyes of dull black, watched again as Jake padded back with a boy caught on his back. They, of course, said nothing but stared one. Sometimes from under knit hats but more often they sported simple bald heads. “I have a question for you, Benny.” 

His friend hummed but spoke nothing. 

“My dad’s are having this Christmas party tonight.” He shoved the boy farther up his back, gently. “Our neighbors are coming and everything. Do you wanna come?” The slight hiccup of nerves in his voice was obvious only to him. 

“Sounds fun to me!” 

Jack smiled, holding onto the boy’s legs a bit tighter. ‘Yes. Benny could come. Yes, he could come and play.’

Benny had yet to actually come over to his home. He’d never even seen Roland or Cuthbert--not that Jake had been afraid for such. Benny was purely sweet. Older in years but younger at heart. Jake had no doubt that the boy would be impressed by his fathers. There weren’t very many people in town these days that weren’t. It sounded braggy but Jake took pride in his family. He just didn’t want them to think...-

He’d mentioned his buddy to his parents a few times...at least enough for Cuthbert to insist he invite him over. But for an odd reason, Jake kept on keeping Benny to himself like his own special secret friend. Cuthbert sensed as much considering he gave Jake mini-looks whenever the subject came up. He liked for his son to let-go and behave like a carefree boy and if getting to spend some time away from home with a new friend was the way to this, he’d be ok with that. 

Benny sniffled into his mitten as snow continued to flurry down all around them, standing out against the colorful strings of lights around the streetlamps. Christmas was upon them now but would be over just as quickly. Boy boys silently hoped for a long stand-still pause; one to make the Holiday last much longer. 

“Wanna walk to the Dunkin’ Donuts for hot chocolate?” 

Jake attempted to look back again. “Yeah! I’ll even buy you a doughnut.” He looked both ways once they reached the busy street and allowed Benny to slide off his back and plant his feet on the concrete. 

“What did I do to deserve that?” He teased but Jake just shrugged. 

“Nothing.” He looked off down the distant right and felt a knot of pure joy hit his gut. 

: : : : : : : : :

Cuthbert’s toes were going to break off in a few seconds if he didn’t switch positions but the glittering Christmas lights would never get put up that way. He continued to stand on his tip-toes, pressing the green wire of multi-colored bulbs against their wall. 

He glanced over his shoulder to spot his husband digging through the box of dusty decorations with something like pensive curiosity on his face. Almost as if he had trouble seeing the point in decorating at all, which Cuthbert knew was a very likely possibility. It might irritate him if Roland didn’t flash him genuinely warm smiles every twenty minutes. 

The humble green tree had been set-up in their living room for a week previous to the day Cuthbert announced he wanted to have a Christmas party. Roland had lifted Jake off the floor to hang the star. 

The home--their home--was sort of small but fleshed out with the strapping personalities of the men who’d bought it years ago. It shined during each Christmas season because they had a young boy--who was now a ways past young...

Slowly, he lowered himself down and came upon his husband to kneel next to him. He briefly admired the box which turned out to be filled with the ghosts of Christmas past; macaroni noodle ornaments made by the hands of a boy not too much younger than Jake. “Our son is a teenager.” 

Roland scoffed, thumping his hands past several tongue depressor reindeer. His eyes--heavy with sleep--blinked thoughtfully. 

“Seems like just yesterday he was following you wherever you went.” Cuthbert gently reached for Roland’s hand. “Remember him walking around the house with your boots on-?” He paused, feeling that memory deep in his chest. “I look at him and I see you, Roland.” He began to rub his thumb in smooth circles against the rough skin of his husbands palm. “Being a father looks good on you.” 

“Better on you.” Roland gently slapped Cuthbert’s hand. For a moment they just leaned on each other. “I’m gonna miss driving him everywhere. I already don’t get to tell him stories at bedtime anymore-” Roland shrugged, to anyone but his husband he would only look indifferent but Cuthbert knew he was broken up. 

“There’s time left, Roland. Lots. Do you good to remember that.” He kissed him quickly. “We’ve done good. Combing knots out of his hair...taking him to school.” This time he had to stop himself with a purse of his lips. “You’ve come a long way from the boy who told me he didn’t know he could be a father.” 

Roland looked a mixture of touched and sad. “I still think about that day I dropped him.” 

Cuthbert rolled his eyes but his stomach dropped at the memory-echo of little Jake’s screaming mixing with Roland’s horrified gasps. It’d been shortly after the adoption process. That baby had wiggled his tiny body right out of his new father’s arms and tumbled to the floor. Carpeted but still just about the scariest sound in the world. “That was a long time ago. You wouldn’t ever let him fall again.” He teased but with a genuine smile. 

Roland only smiled back, kissed Cuthbert’s temple and continued to sort through the box. Together they separated what was worth keeping out & what needed to be thrown away. Cuthbert’s dancing snowmen were in the garbage pile for two-minute intervals every twenty minutes before Roland finally gave up.

“Bert?” Roland frowned as he watched his husband carry the snowmen into their bedroom. No answer. “Cuthbert?” still nothing. He frowned, hopping up to chase after him. 

Cuthbert was rooting his hands through their sock draw and occasionally pulling out a few pairs and folding them together. The snowmen were dancing and singing just at his eye-line. It was obviously very amusing to him which Roland couldn’t help but admire. 

Cuthbert’s broken nails caught on threads every few minutes so he’d pull and pull until the thin string would just snap. But on the eighth time he grew a little bit restless and snapped the string. Quickly shutting the drawer afterwards. “Roland?”

He turned to his husband, who was still lazing around behind him like he wasn’t sure how to decorate without direction. He gave him a small smile and walked towards him, putting his hand on his back. Roland looked up at him, waiting for him to speak whatever was on his mind. “Do you think-” he paused for a second before shaking her head. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

Roland smiled up at him and chuckled. “You say a lot of stupid things, I won’t mind.”

Cuthbert gave him a look that he’d seen a lot of wives give their husbands when they were younger and felt a genuine thrill that he had a husband to be annoyed with now. It was a look of amusement and familiarity. “Well, I was just wondering…” he began again, going back over to the drawers to root around for Christmas socks. “Do you think Jake has something to tell us?” he asked, a little unsure of himself. 

Roland cocked his head to the side and looked lost. “Like what?” He asked, swirling an extra mini string on dead lights in his hand. Cuthbert sighed and leaned back on the drawers behind him. Clasping his hands together, he spoke again.

“Well, he’s been spending a lot of time with that Benny kid….” he trailed off, waiting to see the glaze of realization in his husbands eyes but Roland just smiled.

“Yeah, that’s great. Isn’t it? I’m glad he’s got someone to hang out with, I was getting worried-”

“Roland!” he crossed his arms and the corner of his mouth raised into a small grin. “I mean, do you think the boys….”

Roland still had that clueless look on his face so Cuthbert tried to specify with a look what he had actually meant. “….like each-other?” he finished. 

“No.” Roland answered, definitively. Just like that. Cuthbert was actually a bit hurt by the quick rejection. He raised his brows. 

“That was decisive.” His head shook just the same as the snowmen behind him. “I was only asking because he’s just seemed so happy-”

“Because they are friends.” Roland shrugged. 

“Yes but he keeps him away from us-”

“Jake probably doesn’t want us to embarrass him.” 

Cuthbert scowled at the contestant interruptions. “Yes but they go down to the woods all the time-”

“And? We used to do that all the time too.” Roland shrugged again which defused some of Cuthbert's anger into laughter. 

“We’re married now! We snuck down there to make-out! Don’t you see my point here?” He hunched over to get the last of his hearty laughter out but Roland looked completely annoyed by the whole show. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“Good.” He rolled his eyes, shoving the string-lights aside so he could leave the room. 

Cuthbert followed him like a lost puppy, same hurt expression too. “Why is this making you so uncomfortable?” 

Roland turned, just now noticing that Cuthbert had stuck an old (probably rusty) Christmas pin through the earring hole he’d first given himself in the sixth grade. He sighed with a soft expression, now reaching over to unclasp the damn thing before it got infected. 

Cuthbert just moved back as if burned. The pain that cause Roland was obvious on his face. 

“I don’t want to think about him growing up right now, Bert.” His partner’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. There was more to the issue, that they both knew, but it was have to wait for a later period. Now, Cuthbert just brushed his hand against his love’s face and smiled. 

Outside the snow pelted down harder and covered their lawn in a cold blanket of slush. The picture of their son’s growth would surely not freeze but the air surrounding their home most defiantly would. So, Cuthbert decided it was time to make some hot chocolate and cuddle with the man he’s been enamored with since they were small.

“You want a candy cane in yours?” Roland asked, as if reading his thoughts. 

“Yes please.”

A few kisses and a laugh later, the men were guzzling down their warm drinks and waiting for their company to come.

: : : : : : : : :

'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose …’

Benny’s nose twitched almost as if taking cue from the song and Jake thought it had to be the most adorable thing he’d ever seen...He looked back down at his sad little doughnut and sighed. Hot chocolate burned it’s way down his throat while he wondered just what his parents were doing. 

The two boys sat in the lonesome corner of the Dunkin Donut’s where he knew for a fact Benny had once spilled a bottle of strawberry milk all over himself when he was nine. The picture of the incident in his mind made Jake want to giggle. Instead, he watched Benny pull his sweater sleeves over his hands and drink tiny sips of his hot drink.

“Quit your looking at me.” Benny chuckled almost self consciously--though he needn’t be--and tried to flip Jake off with subtlety he never had. It only made Jake feel alive with joy; he kept looking. “You can get a cup of whip-cream for dogs, look-!” Benny cast his eyes over at a couple feeding their little furry-friend at the counter. “We should’ve brought Oy.” 

Jake loved the way Benny absolutely adored his dog just as much as he did. It almost made him feel like they were part of a little unit. “I think you only like me for Oy.” 

Nat King Cole changed to Paul McCartney and Benny bounced a little atop his stool. “He’s a nice bonus.” He chuckled. “But you’re my honest favorite.” Benny leaned in closer over the table. 

Jake surprised himself by letting a blush bled into his cheeks. He quickly looked away.

Benny, as carefree as ever, didn’t seem to notice. “What are your dad’s gonna think of me?” That question shocked Jake. He nearly choked on his doughnut. 

“I guess what they already think of you.” He finished chewing and swallowed carefully under Benny’s watchful eyes. He wanted more, obviously. Jake pounded his fist to his chest. “I’ve never been very good at making friends, to be completely honest Benny. My parents are pretty happy with you.” 

That earned him a smile as white as the snow. “And they haven’t even met me yet!” He struck a bit nervous to Jake in that moment. 

Honestly, Jake couldn’t see how anyone in their right mind could dislike Benny. There was so much the boy found to love in his friend--his openness, appetite for fun, his willingness to work hard when there was chores to do. And there was that yodeling laugh of his--to name just a few things. “I have your Christmas present ready for tonight.” 

Benny was aglow at just the mention. “Me too.” He tapped his bag, which was currently close to sitting in a puddle. Jake chuckled lightly and allowed himself to admire his friend. 

He thought back to the time not so long ago when they’d met. When Jake had been introduced to Benny’s kindly personality. He’d been deeply afraid he would only lose the friendship they had developed so quickly. He’d been a boy who constantly lived in his head and not many kids his age liked him. But surprisingly, Benny had grown quite attached to Jake. Reminding the boy of that John Denver song that Cuthbert sometimes sang around the house... ‘Follow me where I go what I do and who I know. Make it part of you to be a part of me’

Jake let a quick release of air pass his lips in the way Benny used to do when they slept close together at the Slightman household. He was growing attached as well...

“Jake!” 

The boy did not jump...not in the slightest. But Benny nearly jumped to the ceiling, it was quite funny considering the man who shouted was just Father Callahan. The man from Salem’s Lot who now lived here in town with them. 

He was dusting powdery snow from his shoulders and juggling a few bags as he strolled past the counter (for now) to say hello. It looked like a scene straight from the print of a Christmas card. “Good afternoon.” Jake hopped off his stool to help the man set his bags on a nearby table. 

“Oh, thank you.” Callahan smiled, taking off his gloves with an appreciative expression. 

“No problem, Father.” He shrugged then looked back to Benny, looking a bit...shy. Which was a bit odd. “This is my friend, Benny Slightman.” 

Callahan held out a hand and shook with the boy before digging through his bags. Jake watched him with amusement. “Would you like to come to our Christmas party, sir?” 

The man turned, looking a bit touched. “If your parents would have me.” He nodded to himself. “I believe I carry a gift for your Roland in one of these bags.” He huffed. 

“I hope you’ll promise not to have one of those long religious debates with my dad.” Exasperation was hard to keep from his voice. Benny looked like he wanted to chuckle but...he held back for whatever reason. 

Donald Callahan held up his hands in mock surrender. “I promise.” 

: : : : : : : : :

The twenty-three year olds had much more energy than Roland imagined he even had left. He watched--gleefully if you asked Cuthbert--as Susannah and Eddie Dean made their way up the walk to the door. 

They were chuckling already, Roland could hear Eddie singing ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’. He smiled and opened the door before they could even knock. 

‘Life was funny. Sometimes it delivered you two of the greatest friends a person could have. But it also gave you the inability to voice your genuine thankfulness for their being.’

“Merry Christmas!” Eddie leaned in to smack a kiss against Roland’s rough cheek before moving on to Cuthbert. Roland did not have the time to playfully shove him back before Suzie approached with that special little smile just for him. 

“Happy Holidays old man.” She smiled and accepted a gentle hug before wheeling herself in the open spot next to Cuthbert’s rocking chair. 

Eddie Dean was admiring the tinsel surrounding the kitchen while mixing himself some kind of Christmas drink. Roland watched his friend for a few moments, only meeting his eye when he spilled the eggnog into the sink. He took the time to be grateful that he could share Eddie’s laughter. 

“Where’s Jake?” Suzie craned her neck towards the bedrooms. As she did so, Oy padded his way out of Jake’s and scampered over to jump into her lap. He didn’t usually take to strangers but Eddie & Susannah seemed to be exceptions. 

“Out with his friend, Benny.” Cuthbert took the same drink order which Eddie handed to him without hesitation. “Think he probably invited him over for the party.” He hushed his voice like the topic was a secret. 

From the kitchen, Eddie noticed that with ease as he stirred Roland’s hot chocolate. Standing there in his neighbors--friends--house with his fuzzy snowmen socks pressed against the cold tile, Eddie Dean felt at home. “You ok, big guy?” He slapped the back of his hand to Roland’s hard chest. 

The big guy in question wiped down the splash of eggnog he’d gotten on his shirt and shrugged. He would speak nothing of the stirring inside him, that much Eddie knew. 

“I brought a classic Christmas movie.” He changed the subject for him, popping some kind of snack he’d found into his mouth. He pulled free a DVD case from his back pocket. 

“Star Wars...” Roland squinted like an old man to read “Is not a Christmas movie. Put that away before Cuthbert thumps you.” He chuckled, sipping hesitantly at his drink. 

“Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, thank you very much.” Eddie scoffed. “It takes place on a snow planet. That’s close enough.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’m still mad at your husband for saying the Prequels are better.” 

Roland smiled at the mention of that long debate the two similar men had during their mini Thanksgiving get-together. Eddie had decided the time had come to share his fondness of the movies with his older friends. Jake had gotten a real kick out of watching them go back-and-forth for nearly two hours. “If it were up to me, I’d let you.” He rolled his lips together to taste some more chocolate as he set down the mug. “You know I thought those movies were kind of...cool.” 

Eddie chuckled. “You were a real riot, Roland. Something to say about every scene.” 

“I just like the idea of...a spiritual force binding us together.” His eyes seemed to gloss over. “One that directs us...has a will of it’s own.” He clinked their mugs together before turning around to join his husband and Susannah. 

Eddie pursed his lips together. “I just like the lightsaber fights but whatever.” 

“Come on, Eddie! We’re watching ‘A Christmas Story!’“ Susannah called. 

“Can’t we watch a Christmas movie that isn’t overplayed like...‘Home Alone’ or ‘Scrooged’!” He pretended to pout. “Oooh or ‘Gremlins’!” He bounced on his slippery socks as he plopped right next to Roland. 

“Since when is Home Alone not overplayed?” Susannah rolled her eyes fondly. Delicate flakes of snow continued to fall and press against the glass of the window behind her head.  

“And we can’t watch Gremlins, it scares Roland!” Cuthbert smirked and was immediately rewarding with a hard kick to the ankle. The attempt to hush him did not even phase him. Eddie burst into hysterical laughter. 

Susannah even fell victim to the giggles, leaning over the arm of her chair to try and conceal it. 

“He’s lying. It doesn’t scare me.” Roland thumped his husband on the arm and leaned back on the couch, ignoring his husband mocking him. “Ask Jake.” Cuthbert pretended to nod in agreement but sipped his eggnog suspiciously. 

: : : : : : : : :

Jake gulped down his hot chocolate without considering that Benny might be staring at him. Father Callahan went on to his own table with a peppermint tea to finish sorting through his gifts. They could still hear the shuffling of gift wrap and bags upon bags. 

“Jake?”

The boy finally set down his drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. The foamy residue was erased in a half-second. Benny had to fight away the thought of tasting that chocolate. Deep down there was a part of himself sparring against the naivety which he’d lived with for years. “Should we wait to walk over with Father Callahan?” 

Jake paused, noticing the tonal shift within his friend. “We could...” He glanced over at the man before going back to Benny with a gentle grin. “But we don’t have to. He could just meet us all there.”

Benny tried not to look too pleased with that answer but found it hard to stop his shy smile as he hid it behind his cup. He watched as Jake went over to say his goodbye to his old friend with nerves building up. 

“We’re good to go.” He threw away the empty cups and grabbed for Benny’s wrist, pulling him out of the Dunkin’ with something like excitement. The touch burned pleasantly at the boy’s skin with hot intensity. For a ridiculous moment, Benny worried Jake might catch the way his pulse was thundering and drop him from his grasp with disgust. He didn’t dare to look at the Father as they darted out. 

Together, they walked a little over a block before either of them spoke again. Benny kept his heart to a calm flutter and thought briefly of the Christmas song Jake was crazy for...‘The moon and stars seem awful cold and bright Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right...’

The snow was at that point, a thin blanket coating the wet ground. It would soon be the same kind of dangerous ice that his Father had despised. It’d make it hard for him to drive to work, he’d complain with a shaking fist.

Abruptly, Jake turned to face him with his nose a bright color to rival Rudolph’s. He pulled softly at the end of Benny’s sleeve, truly making him all the more endearing. ‘My friend the world will share this special night. Because it's Christmas...’

His eyes were glowing like the festive sparkling bulbs across each house’s rooftops. If he knew of the stunning beauty it made him, Jake showed not. Instead, he just kept swaying their arms in the cold air. 

“Jake?” 

The boy blinked. “Sorry. I was just-” He waved his spare hand by his ear. “I wrote some stuff on your card. But I think I’d rather just say it to you...before we get to my house. If that’s ok?” 

Benny raised his brows but nodded quickly. “Yeah-yes. I’m ok with that.” He smiled, kicking himself for sounding so stupid. Jake smiled, looking confident in a way that Benny couldn’t imagine for himself. His heart thumped down to his gut. 

“First of all, Merry Christmas.” He chuckled, looking embarrassed for the first time in a while. He wiped his free sleeve against his cheek when hot color blossomed underneath. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Benny. I really needed a good one and you’re the best.” He swayed their hands again but did not meet Benny’s eyes. “I really like you.”

Benny couldn’t even begin to convince himself that he didn’t hear Jake’s special inflection or see the way he’d widened his eyes. “I really like you too, Jake.” 

His friend blushed fiercer and let his hand fall from Benny’s sleeve to fully grab onto his hand, interlocking their grip. For a second, the boys couldn’t manage much else but giggling there in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“I’ll race you home?” Jake challenged.

Benny smirked and hugged the boy’s hand tighter, their palms were a sweaty and warm relief from the bitter cold. “You’ll have to let me go.” The party seemed a weary idea now compared to their new found discovery. But as the snow continued to poor down on them, Jake seemed suddenly eager. 

He hesitantly slipped his hand free and blinked up at Benny with curious eyes before launching forward and placing a surprise kiss against his cheek. He pulled back and stood for a mere second before taking off towards his house. 

“That’s cheating, Chambers!” Benny called out, catching a few snowflakes on his lips before chasing after the boy. 

: : : : : : : : :

Eddie was curled up against Susannah with a look of pleasant shock at the scene unfolding in front of their eyes. 

Cuthbert lounged right onto Roland’s lap and was heavily making-out with the man in such a...relaxed state. Neither neighbor had ever seen Roland so...open or frisky before. The guy was downright playful in the way that he ran his large hand through Cuthbert’s tangled hair and knocked off his obnoxious Santa hat. 

Susannah smiled for a moment before throwing the DVD case at their heads. “Quit that, will you?” She chuckled when Cuthbert tumbled onto the floor with a smile. She pretended to ignore her husbands thumbs-up directed to a now more in-character Roland, who was looking stern once again. “Your boy will be home any minute.” 

Cuthbert leaned against Roland’s tall leg and grinned. 

As if on cue, the front door creaked open to reveal two red-faced boys as they piled into the home, wiping their boots on the mat. “Hey guys.” Jake bounced inside, greeting Oy with rushed excitement. His friend stayed back by the doorway with a shy expression. Eddie waved, hoping to ease the kid. 

“This is Benny Slightman.” Jake reached out for his friend from his place, kneeling in front of Oy, and urged him forward. 

Roland shifted in the arm chair, both Eddie and Susannah noticed the uncomfortable look on his face. Eddie felt a sudden urge to go over and ask him about it. However, Cuthbert crossed the room to shake the kids hand before anyone could do anything else. 

“Cuthbert, Jake’s Dad.” He grinned, the beautiful one of his. He pointed to his Husband. “That’s Roland, his other Dad. Over there are our neighbors, Susannah and Eddie Dean.” 

Benny nervously shifted on his feet and nodded. Susannah smiled kindly and was close enough to offer her hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Benny. You boys want to watch ‘Home Alone two’ with us?” She asked kindly, not knowing this had immediately endeared her to the kid. Benny decided just then that he really liked her. 

Jake gave Oy a final pat before stealing a glance to Roland. “Maybe we’ll join later. Benny and I are gonna go exchange gifts in my room.” 

Roland seemed to consider the statement with some kind of tension hanging in the air. Nothing necessarily bad...just a bit awkward though for once in his life, Jake didn’t seem to notice anything was off. “Alright.” He took a long sip of his coffee and smiled back when Jake rewarded him with one. 

The boy ushered his friend into the other room and quickly shut the door behind them. 

“And what did I say?” Cuthbert asked, a smirk on his face but Roland didn’t seem too amused. He looked blankly at the closed door before excusing himself for a refill. Eddie watched Cuthbert deflate and felt a pang of sadness for him.

He got up, Susannah urging him to follow Roland, and went straight for the kitchen to chase the pacing man. “What’s up with you?” He asked, sparing his own look to Jake’s closed door. 

“Nothing.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes and dug his fingers into an open bag of cookies left on the counter by Cuthbert earlier. He wasn’t the biggest fan of Peppermint but the taste was actually quite nice on his hot tongue. Ignoring his friends obvious attempt to shut down the conversation, Eddie blocked the doorway. “I’m not an idiot, you know?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Eddie.” Roland corrected himself with that special classy asshole tone of his. Nothing couldn’t possibly piss Eddie off quicker than that voice. 

“Just when I think we’re getting to be close, you shut me down.” He scowled and swallowed a particularly minty chunk of cookie. “I wonder how Cuthbert feels being married to someone so...”

“So what?” Roland’s wise eyes crinkled with anger. 

“So guarded...so solitary.” Eddie flicked his tongue accusingly and nearly choked on the cookie crumbs lingering in his mouth. Part of him found it disgustingly strong and wanted to spit up the remnants into the silver sink. But he held that back in favor of appearing non-idiotic. 

Roland huffed and blew past his skinnier friend and treaded his way back to the lounge seat. 

“Oh no, Don’t waltz back in here if you’re all worked up.” Susannah’s voice came from a ways off, making Eddie smile despite the annoyance flaring up inside him. He could always count on his wife. 

Eddie followed in shortly after and plopped down next to Cuthbert who was looking just as irritated when he leaned over to whisper; “Suzy thinks Roland has some internalized homophobia to work-out.” 

Eddie raised a brow. “The dude is married to a man, how can he be homophobic?” He asked, feeling that dreaded idiotic feeling again. 

Taking another invisible cue, the doorbell rang and was used as Roland’s next distraction. 

Father Don Callahan & a handsome friend entered behind a small pile of Christmas printed bags. 

: : : : : : : : :

Benny ran his hand through his hair, feeling through the soft curls. He found that he did that more and more, especially when he was nervous. The heat from just his nerves alone was getting close to unbearable. He shed his larger coat (finally) and placed it awkwardly in his lap. 

Though, Jake simply reached out to swipe it and threw it across his bed (blue sheets) with a smile thick with teeth. “Merry Christmas, Benny.” He placed a delicate present (silver wrapping) between their criss-crossed legs. 

His hands shook but his smile never faltered because Jake was just about the cutest Benny had ever seen him. He watched nervously as he playfully shook the gift. 

Unwrapping slowly, bending the paper under his curled fingers and enjoying that attention…was NOT of his nature. Not at all. Benny tore open the gift with anxiety pouring out of him like sweat.

Laying atop a bed of fluff was one of those spinner rings he’d talked about just a couple weeks ago. It stared up at him, shining into his eyes. 

“You said you wanted to try one of them to help with your fidgeting.” Jake grinned before scooting closer to pick it from the bed and hold it out for his friend. Benny slowly slid his ring finger into the cold silver with a warm blush taking over his cheeks. 

“I got one with paw prints on it...cause you only like me for my dog, you know?” He chuckled, backing off slightly to watch Benny’s reaction. 

“Rad.” A horrible word really. But it was just the one to pop into his mind like a dumb old jack-in-the-box. Benny cringed but quickly laughed it off. “I mean, Thanks, Jake. I love it. Thank you!” He spun the metal and watched the prints blur. “Your turn, now!” He reached into his own bag and handed over a medium sized green box. The red ribbon glittered under the light. 

The boys had gone for the same theme, it seemed. Jake pulled free a silver ornament in perfect likeness to Oy by it’s velvety red loop. Though Benny felt a renewed sense of inferiority as he spun his ring, Jake’s eyes light up. He cradled his hands under the ornament with that shy smile of his. 

“It’s lame, I know, to get someone an ornament for Christmas...” Benny frowned. “Your gift-”

"It's not a competition, Benny. Besides..." Jake turned back to look at the ornament that was now laying in the tissue paper. "I love it, you know me so well." He chuckled before biting into his cheek and turning slightly, to face Benny fully. He opened his mouth to say something but Benny was quicker to voice his own thought.

“Do you want to go back to watch the movie...?” He gestured to the door. 

“Do you?” Jake countered. 

No. He did not. Benny really wanted to keep their illusion of privacy up for just a little longer. His heart was doing flips in his chest just at the thought of it. “No...” He giggled. “But I get the sense that you’ll be missed, Jake.” 

The boy shrugged. “Ok. We’ll go watch.” They set their gifts onto Jake’s nightstand and went for the door but before either of their hands could curl around the gold, Jake leaned over and gently kissed Benny’s cheek. 

It was quick and devastatingly soft. But very, very important to both of them.

: : : : : : : : :

The two boys ended up on the couch with a blanket tossed over them by Cuthbert, only one so of course they had to squish together or else one of them would be too cold.

Jake had somehow found himself with Benny’s sleeping head resting on his shoulder by the second movie. Not that he minded it at all. Benny had a candy cane hanging out of the side of his mouth that he occasionally twirled around. But was now slipping from the corner of his lips. 

Roland watched Jake, who was watching Benny, with a feeling of...discomfort(?) that even he didn’t understand. 

“Please free that cane before it goes down the kids throat, Jake.” Susannah chuckled. The boy chuckled and when he slipped the red & white candy out, Benny shook himself awake.  

“Sorry.” 

“S’fine.” Jake grinned and let his gaze linger. Benny looked around for that Father Callahan, who’d been in the kitchen when he fell asleep, and found him basically curled up with that friend he’d brought; Lupe. 

Benny widened his eyes. “Is he gay?” He snapped his head over to whisper to Jake, who’d started to cackle. 

“Yeah, he is.” He wiped his sleeve across his mouth to settle down. “We’re you worried he was...homophobic?” His brow raised as he remembered how off his friend became in that Dunkin’ when ol’ Father Don Callahan came over. 

“Yes!” 

The boys dissolved into a privately shared laugh as Oy jumped onto the couch next to them.

Cuthbert plopped down into Roland’s lap and gently ran his fingers down his shoulder as they just watched their son. “Are you alright?” 

Roland nodded, pulling his eyes away and towards his handsome husband who was cuddling down next to him despite the limited seat room. It would be annoying if it were anyone else on earth but for Cuthbert, Roland loved like Cupid. 

He kissed the top of his head and hid behind it slightly as the intro to ‘Gremlins’ played on their small TV. “I hate you.” He mumbled into Cuthbert’s hair. 

He hummed. “I love you too.” He leaned back and kissed Roland’s jaw. “Merry Christmas.” 

Outside, the snow had slowed considerably but the ground was not visible under the thick blanket given from the sky. 

[horrendous-haddocks]

Smut Alphabet w/Hiccup Haddock

Y’all should’ve known this was coming.

And it’ll probably get flagged so enjoy whilst it lasts 💁🏻‍♀️☕️👌

___

A = aftercare

He’s wonderfully attentive. Anything you need, Hiccup is there, helheim, even if it’s not necessary, this boy is all over you with back rubs, a spare tunic, another pillow. A true gentleman who loves to fuss over you.

B= body part

Hiccup loves your thighs, he loves how sensitive they are when he kisses/bites them. He loves having them wrapped around him.

As for himself, Hiccup’s never been the most confident guy. He spent a long time trying to get over the self-loathing instilled in him by the pressures of Viking society and the standards he could never live up to. He’s learnt to love his hands, because they fixed Toothless’ tail, they help him express himself, and he loves how you react to the touch of his long, slender fingers.

C= cum

Despite the state of his workroom, Hiccup is actually not keen on mess. When you make love, he tends to cum inside (if you’re ok with that), and then immediately cleans you up afterwards.

D= dirty secret

Once, he sketched you after you’d had sex, with your hair messy and sweat beading on your forehead as you dozed off. He kept the sketch for a week before he actually told you, consumed with guilt that he didn’t ask your permission. Fortunately, you were flattered, there’s no way you looked that hot, and let him keep it.

It comes in handy, sometimes.

E= experience

This boy had no idea what he was doing beyond the theoretical. A. Hot. Mess. What was he supposed to do when you were naked in his bed looking as flustered as he was?

Luckily, he’s a v fast learner with a v good memory. He definitely knows what to do now, and wow, is he thorough.

F= favourite position

Missionary, plain and simple. He adores being able to kiss you whenever he likes, and to be as close to you as possible. It’s intimate, it’s romantic, and he loves that.

He also occasionally gauges your pleasure by watching your expression. He has to know if he’s doing it right.

G= goofy

Despite him being a generally awkward human being, he’s a very passionate and romantic lover. Yet he has his days where his teasing turns silly or he accidentally falls off the bed following several sleep-deprived nights in the forge. What a man, what a legend.

H= hair

He’s fairly well-groomed for a Viking, but he barely has the time or thought to focus much on that.

I= intimacy

Hiccup is a hopeless romantic. Absolutely, undeniably, hopelessly romantic, and it shows in the bedroom. He’s a passionate, generous lover who craves the satisfaction of his partner and lives for the nights where you have the opportunity to just explore and relish each other’s company.

J= jack off

Look, this boy is stressed, and he travels to find new islands and dragon species without you from time to time. If he’s away for more than a week, you bet he’ll be taking some alone time to miss you properly...

K= kink

Pull. His. Hair.

And maybe mark him up a little? He loves doing that to you, covering your chest and collarbone with love bites, as long as it’s not too obvious.

L= location

He’s a classic man who can’t deny the comfort and convenience of the bed.

But, you two have fucked in his workshop before, which is attached to the forge, which was busy at the time.

It’d been a long week.

M= motivation

One thing he really admires about you is your empathy and communication skills. But one thing that really gets him hot under the armour is when you prove someone wrong, especially if they’re being rude to you and you handle it with a smug little smile. Anytime you show off your intelligence, you can bet that Hiccup will be all over you later. What can I say? He’s a nerd.

Also, leaning in to whisper something in his ear, suggestive or otherwise, something that is just meant for him and no one else, that gets him going. Just watch his cheeks turn scarlet.

N= NO

He is not interested in any other bodily fluids. Blood is a no-go zone that he probably hasn’t ever and would never even think of. Just. No.

O= oral

Wow. Where to start?

This boy loves giving and receiving both. He is fairly selfless and always willing to go down on you (and he’s learnt to be pretty good at it too!) He can’t deny that he loves receiving from you though, there’s something about having his hands in your hair whilst you look up at him that he just cannot resist.

P= pace

In accordance with his romantic nature, he likes to go slow, really take his time to appreciate the moment and appreciate his partner.

However, if he’s had a stressful day, expect the rhythm to pick up, get a little rough and raw. He almost always finishes off with slow, deep thrusts, no matter what.

Q= quickie

To Hiccup, a quickie is a rare but wonderful and unexpected treat. Whilst not as satisfying as “proper” sex, Hiccup loves the moments where you grab him after a meeting and just drag him off to his workshop. His hair is always a mess anyway, so the aftermath is usually pretty easy to hide. The smug smirk he wears as a result however? Not so subtle.

R= risk

Hiccup is an inventor, an explorer, an artist. He never shys away from experimentation in the bedroom, as long as you’re both comfortable with it and you’ve discussed it beforehand. Yet he does not take risks with you if he can avoid it, that’s just an unnecessary stress in his eyes.

S= stamina

Surprising. Does he ever stop? Where does he get the energy? Honestly, he can make it comfortably past three rounds, and they’re not exactly short rounds either. Superhuman levels of energy packed into this “talking fishbone”.

T= toy

Nah. He’s creative enough with his hands. He’d give them a try if you requested it though, he’s open to that.

U= unfair

Oh no, this boy is a shameless tease. One minute you two are just talking, relaxing, the next he has you whining into his palm. He’s heard you beg before, he made you do it.

You got your own back.

V= volume

Usually quite reserved, heavy breaths and pants, soft groans. Occasionally, if stressed, he’ll let loose a little and you’ll catch moans and the odd growl through gritted teeth. That one always sends a thrill right through you.

W= wild card

Hiccup is a big fan of soft, cuddly, bleary-eyed, morning sex. He finds that it’s the best way to wake up and he loves replaying the moment over and over throughout the day. Half of all his sketches of you are from such long, lazy mornings. He always thinks you look so beautiful.

X= X-ray

There are very few things Hiccup has gained genetically from his dad, but this is one of them.

There’s a reason he’s called Stoick the Vast.

Y= yearning

He’s a young Viking lad, so his libido is pretty high. It noticeably peaks when he’s stressed, but overall he’s often satisfied with whatever you can manage/feel comfortable with.

Z= Zzz

Unsurprisingly, Hiccup likes to talk afterwards. Drifting off to sleep whilst cuddled up to you, your hand on his chest, whilst you talk about everything and anything is his idea of heaven.

Sometimes, however, you wear him out and you watch his struggle to stay awake before completely shutting down and basically blacking out into snores. Then you can snuggle up, all smug and satisfied.

Pussy too bomb.

[howtogetoverhttyd3]

How To Train Your Space Dragon

Soooo, I did it (or at least started)! This probably isn’t exactly what the original post was going for, but I wanted to write a Space AU, so a Space AU it is!

Hope you like it, @ashleybenlove, @learning-to-fly-on-my-own

I posted it on my AO3 account, since I like that format more (you can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18187604/chapters/43019852), but for the first chapter at least, I’ll post it here as well.

CHAPTER 1: TEST FLIGHT

The access panel blips and the door opens with a hiss.

He wiggles through the door, closes it from inside and drops heavily to his feet as the gravitation field activates again.

Sometimes he hates the all-encompassing pressure that weighs down every living being on the water-dirt-thing called Earth. It reminds him too much of the invisible pressures pushed on him every day by his father, by his peers, by the damn BERC Federation.

Most of the time, he just wants to fly among the stars. Weightless, uncaring of gravity, simply... free.

Not weighed down by expectations, regulations, self-doubt, all that.

Nevertheless, human souls aren't meant to be unburdened so he gusts out a frustrated breath, and makes his way to the bridge.

"All clear. The sensors were all in stellar condition."

"Then where did that shadow come from?" snaps the Captain.

Hiccup just spreads his hands and shrugs helplessly.

"It was probably just a malfunction. Ugh, so boring!" Ruffnut groans from her chair at the nav screens.

The Captain just harrumphs skeptically and Hiccup feels like he's failed once again.

"Permission to continue the flight, sir?" comes the no-nonsense voice of the pilot.

"At your leisure, Hofferson," the Captain grunts.

The blonde nods and starts firing up the engines.

Hiccup very stealthily slides away as his dad is occupied by overseeing the busy bridge.

It's not like they need him here.

The rest of the journey through the meteor belt surrounding Helheim is uneventful, and they manage to dock to the Horrendous station without any more glitches.

They unpack, run a few preliminary tests to ensure that the station's life support and other vital systems still work as intended before bunking down for the night.

Everyone else except Hiccup, that is.

See, there is one specific reason (besides his love of the stars) why he goes to as many planetary flights as he can, even ones led by his father. He is, first and foremost, a cybernetics engineer. And as such, he often creates things. Things he maybe shouldn't. Things that he has never shown anyone, not even his own mentor.

Things he knows he would only get to try on real extraterrestial conditions after light years of paperwork.

So he keeps it secret. Sacrifices some of his engineering equipment and rations to pack his inventions instead. Makes up a device to cheat the NASA scanners to smuggle his equipment in without detection.

Sneaks away from the station when his crew mates are asleep.

His heart jack-rabbits against his ribs as he pulls on the culmination of his innovations so far.

The air lock hisses ominously as he steps over the threshold, onto the surface of Helheim.

Holds his breath for 10 seconds.

15.

20.

30.

A minute.

Nothing happens.

His enforced, multi-function suit holds up admirably in the slightly heavier gravity and the extreme heat. Hiccup feels something almost like pride begin to swell in his chest, a small, goofy grin stretching the corners of his mouth. Maybe this will work, after all.

He starts to walk carefully away from the space station. He needs to get far enough away to start the next phase of testing.

Around three kilometers later, he has passed the range of the space station's primary sensors. If someone activates the long-distance ones, he is screwed. But seeing as all the others are supposed be awake, he figures it should be okay.

After finding a good, steep ledge, he stops.

For a moment, Hiccup scans the foreign landscape around him, appreciating the stark, black ash dunes and rock formations half-hidden in the mist.

Helheim is a volcanic planet. It has a heavier gravity than Earth, and it's surface is mostly composed of tephra, lapilli, ashes and other volcanic rocks. The air consists of 31,5 % oxygen, 64,9 % nitrogen, 1,6 % sulfur and 2 % carbon dioxide, making the air filters on Hiccup's suit fulfill their purpose in saving his life. On the colder parts of the planet - mainly it's poles - there are large bodies of water and even some plants. The Horrendous station is located on one of these colder areas, to avoid the occasional volcanic eruptions that happen on the middle circuit.

Most of the planet is still unnamed, but below him roars one of the few named rivers on this planet. Styx crashes and rages in the bottom of the ravine, named after the boundary river between Earth and the Underworld in the Greek mythology.

He sincerely hopes the name isn't an augury about the fate of his little trial here.

Taking a deep breath, he runs a quick diagnostic check on the operation systems of the suit. When all seem to be clear, he braces himself and says:

"Inferno, activate!"

The suit bursts into movement.

Small, compact engines on his back, along his arms and on the soles of his boots shoot him instantly to the heavy ash clouds hanging low on Helheim's black sky.

"Whoa! Not so fast! Hover Mode!"

The Inferno takes a moment to depict his orders, and before it can react, the radar flashes red as something large and impossibly fast crashes into him.

Together they tumble off the sky.

[takaraphoenix]

Phoe’s Advent Calendar: Day 12

We’re officially reached half-time! 12 more days to Christmas! This one was prompted by @rokutsubasa61​, enjoy. ;)

Title: Advent Calendar Project – Flowers for Winter

Fandom: Disney/DreamWorks

Disclaimer: All rights concerning the movies reserved to DreamWorks/Disney respectively. 'Guardians of Childhood' is property of William Joyce. 'How To Train Your Dragon' is property of Cressida Cowell. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.

Warnings: shounen-ai, awkward courting, fluff

Main Pairing: Hiccup/Jack

DreamWorks Characters: Jackson Overland | Jack Frost, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III

Disney Characters: Merida DunBroch, Moana Waialiki, Rapunzel Gothel

Summary: Jack keeps getting flowers. He doesn't understand.

Links: FFNet | AO3

Flowers for Winter

Jack frowned thoughtfully as he rolled the flower around between his fingers. It was the oddest flower Jack had ever seen. So... round. And weird. Odd thing. Jack didn't know what to do with it. And it wasn't even the first one. He had been waking up every single morning of December so far to find such a weird flower next to himself. He had no idea what to make of it, so he had decided to consult his girls. His friends. Because over the past three-hundred years of being a winter spirit, Jack of course had made quite some friends. He didn't get along too well with the other winter spirits – they didn't have his sense of fun, they were mainly dark or angsty (urgh, the most annoying one of them really was Elsa, it was so straining having to work with her), but he had found his own 'year'. Rapunzel, the spring spirit, Moana, the summer spirit, and Merida, the autumn spirit.

"Can you look at the flower any more offended?", asked Rapunzel amused.

She was running her fingers over her long braid with lots of flowers in it. Moana behind her grunted at that and glared, since she was in the middle of braiding said flowers into those golden hair. Merida was kicking her legs, eating an apple. Jack sighed and put the flower down gently.

"What does it even mean?", asked Jack irritated. "And who would give a winter spirit flowers...?"

"Someone who's totally in love with you, idiot", pointed Merida out, taking another bite.

"...What? No one is in love with me", snorted Jack in disbelieve.

"Okay, first of all, the chrysanthemum means death. That's like... you. I mean, winter symbolizes death, spring symbolizes rebirth", explained Rapunzel hastily. "It's a winter-friendly flower, you know. And it does look pretty. And he totally is head over heels in love with you."

"He?", echoed Jack confused.

Rapunzel's eyes widened and she clasped a hand over her mouth as both Merida and Moana glared at her pointedly. Jack frowned in confusion, looking down at the chrysanthemum flower in his lap.

"Come on, dork. You're not that slow", grunted Moana, nudging Jack.

"...It's not Bunny, right? Like, chasing me through a continent is not his way of courting, right?"

"No, it's not my boss", huffed Rapunzel and shook her head.

"Then who is it?", asked Jack, looking completely frustrated.

"Ca—an't tell you", chimed Merida with a broad grin.

/break\

"Ouch! Stop—ouch—throwing things at me—ouch!"

"Then. Stop. Leaving. Flowers. Without. Notes!", groaned Merida, throwing a shoe at his friend.

Hiccup glared as he tried to duck her. After he had died to save his father's life during the attack of the Alpha dragon all those centuries ago, he had been reborn as a spirit of autumn, riding Toothless in the night, him being the storm and lightning bringer. He had fast befriended Merida, his fellow autumn spirit. He also sometimes hung out with her friends Merida and Moana. And... and Jack. The prettiest spirit of them all. The gorgeous, pure, sweet, funny winter spirit.

"He's been wrecking his brain about what the flowers mean and where they come from", grunted Merida. "And he really doesn't get it. So go and explain yourself to him, you utter idiot. I swear, I will sick Moana on you to drown you if you don't tell him. With words."

Hiccup winced and ducked her as he made his way over to Burgess, where he knew his favorite winter spirit to live. Merida was probably right. He shouldn't have expected for Jack to understand what it meant or from whom they were, but he was just really awkward about those things. He was really awkward about Jack. The fun-loving snow-bringer made it hard for him to function. Picking up a chrysanthemum on his way over. He disapproved of the way Jack was still living beside a lake instead of an actual home. The seasonal spirits lived with the Guardians – spring with Bunny, summer on the sunny island of Sandy, autumn in the colorful palace of Toothiana and winter in the North Pole with Nick. Not Jack though; he had ever only encountered Bunny when it came to Guardians and that had apparently not gone well. Hiccup smiled as he spotted the still asleep winter spirit. Landing next to Jack, he plated the flower beside the sleeping spirit. The white fluffy hair looked nearly like snow and Hiccup couldn't help but reach out and brush it out of Jack's face. The winter spirit stirred at the touch, blinking bleary crystal-blue eyes up at Hiccup.

"Hics", grinned Jack pleased. "Haven't seen you in a while. Where's my favorite scaly kitten?"

"Toothless is at home", replied Hiccup fondly. "A—And... I came to talk to you."

"Su—ure. What can I do for you?", asked Jack and sat up stretching.

He really liked Hiccup. A lot. Aside from the girls, Hiccup and Toothless were the closest to him but he hadn't wanted Hiccup there when discussing things about the flower, because it made him feel awkward because... deep down he kind of really wanted them to be from Hiccup. He blushed and ducked his head, thus spotting the new flower. Frowning, he took it and looked at it. It really was pretty, but he couldn't really wrap his head around the concept of having a secret admirer.

"Punzel thinks that I have a secret admirer", stated Jack curiously. "It sounds... weird though. I mean, it's ridiculous, right? Who would even... I mean..."

"What?", asked Hiccup stunned. "W—Why do you... do you sound like you can't believe that someone would be in love with you? Of course they would. You're funny and quirky and you never fail to make me laugh with your pranks, you always go above and beyond, instead of just bringing snow, you also bring fun, you are absolutely beautiful and kind and the way you're with Toothless is just heartwarming and you're a good and loyal friend and-"

"...Are... Are the flowers from you, Hics?", asked Jack stunned, blinking slowly.

Hiccup's eyes widened frantically. So maybe gushing to your crush about your crush was not the most subtle way and even Jack could read that between the lines. Jack still stared at him.

"...Yes", nodded Hiccup slowly, cheeks dark-red. "I—I am so gone on you. You just make me so happy. Winter and snow used to always annoy me, but then I met you and now I get giddy every time I see snow because I hope I get to see you. I'm just not... good with those things, so... flowers."

"That's... so cute", grinned Jack as he sat up some. "So... can we... kiss? Perhaps?"

Hiccup made a high-pitched sound at that and nodded so wildly, his head nearly fell off – and the last leaves on the trees around them did too at the autumn spirit's excitement. Jack grinned and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Hiccup's lips, causing snow to fall around them.

~*~ The End ~*~

[darklingandy]

Spirits of the Earth and Air

Chapter Twenty-Four: Faery Wine

Hiccup was awake.

It was the darkest part of the night, everything in Astrid's room still and silent. For several moments, he lay still with his heart thudding in his chest, eyes wide open, listening for whatever had awoken him. After a long silence, he heard the sound again: a soft tap tap tap on Astrid's window.

Next to him in the bed, Astrid was sound asleep, face down on the mattress so that she wasn't much more than a mop of blonde hair showing under the blankets. Hiccup got up, careful not to wake her, and crept to the window. On the other side of the glass, Jack was crouched on the roof shingles. When he saw Hiccup, he grinned and waved.

Hiccup slid open the window pane. "What is it?" he whispered. "What's wrong?" His heart was still going too fast.

Jack's eyes widened. "Nothing," he said sheepishly. "I just want to show you something. A part of Faerie."

Hiccup let out a breath of air. "Show me something?" he repeated, rubbing at his eyes. "It's the middle of the night."

"Well that's the only time you can see it." Jack studied Hiccup, his eyes raking over Hiccup's face, taking in the dark under-eye circles and tired lines. "You can go back to bed if you want?"

But Hiccup was already up, and the cold air seeping in from outside had him wide awake and alert. He didn't feel like going back to bed. Besides, he told himself, when else was he going to have a chance to see a part of Faerie? Without Pitch or his minions messing things up?

"Okay," he said, barely even hesitating. "Should I meet you out front? Is it far?"

"It's a bit far to walk. Not much to fly though. I can carry you."

Hiccup remembered the last time Jack had carried him while flying and shook his head frantically. That had been a catastrophe. "Oh no. Not again."

"Oh, come on."

"No!"

Jack scrunched up his face, half in amusement, half in exasperation. "I'll piggyback carry you," he offered. "Is that better?"

"…fine."

Licking his lips nervously, Hiccup scrambled out the window onto the roof, the shingles rough against his bare feet. Jack crouched down and Hiccup climbed onto him as gracefully as he could, but he still managed to knee Jack in the ribs.

"Oof."

"Sorry."

Impatient, Jack grabbed Hiccup under the knees and hoisted him u. Hiccup didn't get any time to orient himself before Jack leapt off the edge of the roof and into the night air, and then everything was rushing past them. Wind and woods and moonlight all slid together into one long whooooosh. Hiccup clamped his mouth shut to keep himself from screeching and clung onto Jack's neck for dear life, burying his face against the back of Jack's neck.

Jack yelled something.

"What?"

"I said you don't need to choke me!"

Hiccup tried to loosen his grip and dug his fingers into Jack's hoodie. He didn't know how long he stayed like that. They went up into the sky, over and through the tops of trees, and the ground far below slid away and away underneath their feet. The wind carried them.

After a while, Hiccup realized they were descending. There was another whoooooosh of tree branches flying past, and everything came to a stop. Jack was standing on a protrudent tree branch, his hand braced against the trunk of the pine for balance. Hiccup glanced around and then Jack leapt downward, angling off the tree branches until he reached the ground.

"Here," he whispered to Hiccup.

Hiccup unfurled himself from the small, clenched lump he made of himself, stretching out until his feet touched the ground and he felt slick pine needles under him. He caught his breath and looked around.

They were standing by a wide pond. The surface of it was smooth inky black, the edges laced with frost. At their feet the dark bank of it curved away, tangled with the thick roots of the trees that grew right up to the edge, reaching down under the earth and water. The air was thick with silence.

Jack took Hiccup's hand and pulled him carefully toward it, stepping over pine cones and twigs. They found a place where the tree roots made a perfect seat against the earth, and Jack sat and patted the ground next to him.

Hiccup hesitated before he slowly lowered himself next to Jack, leaving just enough space between their shoulders so that they weren't touching.

"What is this place?" Hiccup whispered.

"Just wait." Jack was looking for something, staring intensely out over the water, his eyes reflecting the faint moonlight that filters through the tree tops. Hiccup turned to watch.

Minutes passed. Everything was quiet, except for the occasional whisper of wind that sets the tree swaying and sighing. Ferns grew along the bank around them; the edges of their dark feathery leaves just brushed the water's surface. Jack was warm beside him. Hiccup had no idea what they were waiting for, but he was glad they were here, glad that he was getting to see something peaceful and soft in Faerie before it was too late. Before Jack was gone for good.

With a shudder, he realized that he didn't want Jack to go.

Mistaking Hiccup's shudder for a shiver, Jack leaned his shoulder against Hiccup's. When Hiccup turned to stare at him, he gave him a small smile.

Fuck, thought Hiccup. I made him promise to leave. If we get out of this…I… Feeling lost, he returned Jack's smile automatically. His mind was chasing itself around in circles, reeling. I should ask him to stay — but he doesn't want to stay — but I want him to stay — but it doesn't matter what I want ––

Talk to him!

He cleared his throat, feeling dry-mouthed all of a sudden. "Jack…"

"Oh!" Jack grabbed Hiccup's arm in excitement, voice still hushed. "They're coming out!"

Lights were beginning to glow in the ferns and foliage, appearing gradually the way stars come out. At first so dim it was hard to see them, they winked into existence, glittering bright. Like fireflies, they drifted, free-floating, through the air and over the water. The smooth, dark surface of the pond reflected them in a perfect symmetrical mirror image. As they grew thicker, there were so many of the floating through the night, it was like a field of stars.

"Ohhh…" Hiccup breathed. "What are they?"

"A type of wisp." Jack sighed in satisfaction and relaxed against Hiccup's side, curling toward him almost subconsciously. He hooked one foot under Hiccup's ankle. His fingers folded against Hiccup's palm and Hiccup stretched his hand out without thinking until their fingers were threaded together.

"Oh," he said.

They fell silent. The lights — the wisps — spun slowly through the air, cosmic and seemingly infinite. Hiccup took a deep breath of the cold night air; he felt good right now, clear-headed and alive.

"So…this is Faerie?"

"Yeah," said Jack. "A part of it. It's…not all bad, right?" Tentative, he looked sideways at Hiccup.

"No," said Hiccup slowly. He looked back at Jack. Why can't I ask him? he wondered. Belatedly, he realized he'd been staring too long and looked away. "Not all bad." He took a deep breath. "Jack…why did you bring me here?"

The wisps seemed content to simply drift where they were, admiring their own reflections in the still water. One alighted on the tree roots by Hiccup. At the center of its glow, Hiccup could barely see a pair of wings buzzing like a firefly's. He reached out his fingers to brush it, but it startled and flitted away.

"None of the court fey know about this spot," Jack answered him after a while. "I come here sometimes. To hide."

"Ah." Hiccup understood that. This was Jack's version of a secret library corner.

"Ah?" Jack echoed.

Hiccup leaned back against the bank and shifted to look at Jack. "I understand why you come here, but…" he swallowed, "it didn't really answer my question: what am I doing here?"

They were still holding hands; Hiccup had honestly forgotten, it felt so normal. Jack turned Hiccup's palm over absently to trace patterns on the back. "I wanted you to see it," he said quietly. "I just… I shoved my way so thoroughly into your life, I thought maybe I could even the score a little. Show you a secret piece of mine."

Jack's head was lowered. Hiccup couldn't see the look in his eyes, but his posture radiated vulnerability, and Hiccup felt like all the air had been stolen from his lungs. "Oh," he said. He wasn't sure what else to say to that right now.

Jack looked up at him. "If you want to go back, I can take you."

"No!" Hiccup sat up quickly. "I like it."

A smile quirked up the edge of Jack's mouth, wry but hopeful. "Yeah?"

Hiccup couldn't help the grin that spreads across his face. "Yeah."

Something charged and unspoken passed between them. A shiver ran down Hiccup's spine again, goosebumps creeping pleasantly across his skin. Jack looked at him and his eyes widened.

"Sorry," he said, letting go of Hiccup's hand so that he could pull his hoodie off. "I forgot, you get cold."

"What?" Hiccup glanced down at his arms; he was still wearing the t-shirt that he'd been sleeping in, but he didn't feel cold. "No, I'm fine. I'm good, actually."

Jack stilled; the hoodie slipped from his fingers to settle on his shoulders again. "You're not freezing?" he asked in surprise.

"No," Hiccup said wonderingly. He ran his hands over his bare arms. "I feel better out here, actually. Like more awake?"

"Better?"

"Yeah." Hiccup wrapped his arms around himself and leaned his head against the tree roots, relaxing. "Less tired and sick."

Jack let out a snort. "I always feel better out here in the woods," he said, stretching his arms over his head. "Cleaner. Lighter. More peaceful. And also less tired and sick. There's no human iron or metal to poison me out here."

"Well yeah, you're fey," said Hiccup automatically, before the realization of what they'd just said sunk in. They both went still at the same moment, each unwilling to voice the thought that had just occurred to them: that Hiccup was developing the same reaction to metal that the fey had. That he was losing his humanity faster than he should have been.

Hiccup looked down at himself; his freckly pale arms, wrapped around his torso, are dark against the white shirt he's wearing.

"What's happening to you?" Jack breathed so quietly that Hiccup hardly caught the words; it was perfect to pretend like he couldn't hear then. And that was what he did, pushing on to a different subject.

"What will you do when you're free?" he blurted out.

"I don't know," said Jack with an easy shrug. "Celebrate."

"No, I mean," Hiccup cleared his throat, "where will you go?"

"What?"

That was their original deal: Jack had promised Hiccup that if he helped free him, he'd leave Hiccup alone to live his life. Now, the memory of that promise almost smacked Jack upside the head; in everything that had happened, he'd forgotten about it until now.

Jack opened his mouth to protest Hiccup's question, then closed it as he remembered his promise. He bit down on his lip a little too hard and turned his face away.

Before all this, he'd wanted to travel, find a new place to belong, but now he felt that the only place he could ever belong — ever wanted to belong — was already right here. Could only be right here.

"I don't know," he managed to say. "Why do you bring that up?"

Because I want you to stay, Hiccup thought. He opened his mouth to say it, but his throat closed up and he couldn't. "Oh," he said instead, "just… wondering."

The mood had shifted. A minute ago they'd been holding hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, but now Hiccup felt like he couldn't touch Jack. Like he didn't have any right to.

He so badly wanted to move his hand and forearm — just a few inches and he could slide his arm through Jack's. His arm practically ached at this angle. He swallowed, edged his hand forward a few millimeters, then got cold feet and leaned back on his hands. His fingertips pressed into the soft tree bark beneath, moss — damp and slightly squishy — crushed under his palms.

Jack turned his face toward Hiccup, looking quizzically up at him. His eyes caught the reflections of the wisps, reflecting them in silver slivers.

Hiccup tipped his head back to look away. He couldn't think of anything else to say. They fell into observant silence, not looking at each other. It felt stiff now, not like the comfortable silence they had a few minutes ago.

A distant strain of sound reached his ears. Through the woods drifted a noise, like bells or chanting. "Hang on…" he sat up straighter and looked around. Far off through the trees he could see a distant glow, flickering. "Do you hear something?" he whispered.

"What?" Jack lifted his head.

Hiccup shushed him. "Listen," he breathed.

The sound was getting louder. It was definitely music. Something throbbing and primal, with high sweet notes that seemed to call to him, made his blood hum.

"I hear it," Jack whispered back. Hiccup started to rise to his feet. Jack seized his hand. "Where are you going?"

"To find out what it is."

Jack hung onto him as he followed him to his feet and they crept across the forest floor. They headed toward the light.

As they got closer the darting shapes evolved into forms. Fey creatures of all shapes, sizes, colors, spun and danced around an enormous bonfire. Three of them were crouched at the foot of the flames, long curled fingers pulling at twisted, alien instruments.

"What…" Hiccup's voice faded away, swallowed up by the sounds of music and shouting.

"We should go, right?" Jack raised his eyebrows at Hiccup, concern written into his face.

But Hiccup was entranced by the dancing figures, his eyes glued to their swooping, winding forms. They were so fluid, graceful, they seemed the music personified, the notes made solid into flesh; they bent and writhed so perfectly in time.

"Hiccup?"

He could feel himself craving to join them, his heart rate speeding up, his feet itching to move. "Do we have to?"

"You want to stay?" Jack leaned in closer, his hand snaking higher around Hiccup's wrist. His eyes lit up with mischief, reflecting now the warm glow of the bonfire. The corners of his mouth quirked up.

"I shouldn't." Hiccup pulled back automatically, withdrawing into the shadows, but Jack held on and followed with him.

"They're totally plastered," he said. A short laugh escaped him. "They won't remember you. I don't think they'll even recognize that you're human. Besides, you've already eaten faerie food. What more could happen?"

Hiccup paused. "…you think?"

"Only if you want to stay." Jack bit down on his lip as he grinned at Hiccup. His hand loosened, only to curl around Hiccup's and lace their fingers together.

Hiccup took a deep, excited breath. "Okay," he said at last. "Let's do this."

They crept forward. As soon as they stepped into the circle of warm orange light, they were swept up, like leaves in the wind. Hands were reached out toward them and they were pulled along. Faces all around them laughed. Hiccup found himself doing his best to keep up, feet flying over the ground, somehow, miraculously, moving in time with the beat.

It was like before, in the court, everything wild and untouchable and under his skin. The world around him melted away, everything he'd been carrying on his shoulders evaporated.

Coherent thoughts dissolved. His head grew light and dizzy, everything was a swirl of color and sound that he was floating on. His body seemed to move without him telling it to.

A cup of something was pressed into his hands. He looked at Jack, who just shrugged. "What's it going to do?" he called over the noise.

So Hiccup tried a sip. It was light and sparkling with an undercurrent of something thick and spicy. He downed the whole thing in several gulps. The effect was almost immediate. HIs skin tingled all over, he could feel every pulse of his heart, he felt warm and vibrant and alive. Nothing mattered anymore and that was the most amazing thing. Someone handed him another and he drank it. Swallowing down mouthful after mouthful. His head was swimming but he had never felt more alive.

He pulled Jack closer, and Jack came willingly, laughing. Their hands tangled together as they swayed nonsensically to the music, losing the beat and then catching it again, noses almost bumping. Time began to disappear, one moment running into the next, blurry and indistinct.

"Wow," Hiccup tripped over a rock [or something?] on the ground. He almost knocked Jack over, but a faery behind his caught him by the shirt and up-righted him without even breaking stride. For a second he was swept away in the arms of a girl with a braid almost down to her feet, then he was passed between hands and handed back to Jack again. Jack caught him with a laugh and pulled him back from the wild ring of dancers. They collapsed on the grass.

"Nnnnngh." Hiccup stretched out lazily on his back, grinning. "I'm kinda drunk," he confessed. He turned his head to smile widely at Jack.

"I…" Jack looked very serious for a second, took a deep breath, and then snorted and started laughing. "Me too!"

That made Hiccup start laughing again. "Too much…whatever that stuff is."

"Faery wine." His laughter dissolved into breath. Jack rolled onto his side, head propped on one hand. "Gods, I haven't had this much fun in…months. Years. A long time. It's not important."

Hiccup snorted. "Whatever you say, old man."

"Hey." Jack shoved him gently in the shoulder. "Show some respect to your elders."

"Never." Hiccup chuckled again, then quickly sobered up, staring at Jack. His mind was still buzzing, but he remembered…there was something important… "Jack," he said suddenly, intensely, "you're going to leave."

"What?" Jack's eyes widened like he'd been slapped. He sat upright and stared down at Hiccup.

"I…" Hiccup's face felt too hot. He turned his head away. "Nevermind."

There was a pause. Then Jack's cool fingers were there against Hiccup's flaming cheek as he reached over to turn his head back to look at him. Jack had shifted so that he was laying against Hiccup's side propped up on one elbow, looking down at Hiccup's face. Hiccup blinked. "I don't want to."

"Huh?"

"I don't want to leave."

Jack's hand was still on his face. His thumb stroked along Hiccup's cheekbone. Hiccup reached up and put his hand over Jack's. "Okay," he said, a little choked. "Then stay here."

A small frown tugged at the corner of Jack's mouth but he said nothing, merely studied Hiccup with intense, dark blue eyes.

"I can't. I made a promise. A fey promise."

Hiccup's sluggish brain took a moment to catch up to that. So no matter what, Jack would leave, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. "Come on." Hiccup pushed to his feet suddenly, staggering a little at standing up so fast. "I need some more wine."

"Wait, Hiccup—" Jack stumbled up after him.

Dragging Jack behind him, without looking back, Hiccup plunged into the chaos and let the music and the energy sweep him up again.

Some day, Jack would leave. There was nothing Hiccup could do to stop that eventuality.

The music picked up again. He grabbed more to drink and the liquid was warm and golden down his throat, and for now, for this moment, Jack was right here, hand in hand with him, and that would have to be enough.

next chapter >>

[grimxark]

Mcmercy Week day 2/3 - Memory /Laughter

He remembers when they first met. He wasn’t even half of the man he is now, but she was as stoic and confident as ever. Perhaps healthier. He had been shy at first, but talking to her seemed fairly easy. He remembers their conversation as clear as day.

She had told him she would find his origins with time. Which probably meant they would spend time together! Get to meet each other. His weak heart pounded with the thought of being friends with such a famous name.

He remembers when he found out she was a sucker for puns and bad pickup lines. He’d come in for a check up, or to heal a wound, and he’d have new puns and pickup lines, just for her. Just to see her smile. And no matter how hard he tried, she always had a reply of her own.

And he found that he enjoyed those exchanges. It was one of the only times they had to just be friends and to make each other laugh. He’d flirt with her, watch her giggle and blush, and tell him a pickup line of her own. Where she took them from he didn’t know, and he didn’t care. It was their thing to do.

Soon, friendly pickup lines became more serious. At least to him. He wasn’t sure about her, but to every wound he received, to every check up he attended, he enjoyed the doctor’s company more and more.

His cheesy pickup lines would be a little too cheesy or a little bit too close to the truth, and instead of laughing, she’d smirk softly at him, tired eyes meeting his admiring gaze only to avoid any form of eye contact for the rest of their meeting.

He began to wonder if he had done something wrong. She was drifting away.

And he didn’t know what to do.

•

Days became weeks, and weeks became months. To each day that passed, she seemed more tired. She’d flinch at any quick movement, take a little longer to fully understand a sentence, and short replies turned into silence.

He wasn’t sure if he could handle her silence for much longer.

•

It was on a Sunday night that he asked her. He had knocked on her door in the middle of the night. She couldn’t say he had interrupted her sleep, for the lights were on and she was never sleeping at one in the morning.

“Angela?”

He heard hiccups and sobs from inside, and he no longer waited to be invited in. Jesse stormed inside the doctor’s dorm only to find a bottle of wine lied on the ground, Angela crying by her table with several papers around her, and an unfinished sketch model.

She seemed unperturbed by his presence. She either knew it was him and didn’t care, or was far too drunk to.

“Angela. What happened?” He spoke once again, this time closer to her. She turned her gaze towards him, heavy with sleep and alcohol. She did not answer him.

“Angel, please.”

The young woman looked from her papers to him, and then back at her papers.

“It’s Genji.”

Genji. He knew him, but couldn’t even think why he would make her cry. Sure, Genji had his issues and grudges against the doctor, but he was still grateful for her nonetheless. Instead of speaking, Jesse only heard.

“Maybe what I have done was not the right thing. Maybe I should have never let overwatch know he was here. I should’ve taken him to a hospital nearby where I could treat him and nobody would ask me questions. He would live a new life as a man, not as a weapon.” She gulped, and maybe it was the effect the alcohol had on her. Because she never spoke about things that upset her so quickly and with so much ease. She looked at him, and when he carefully analyzed her eyes, he realized they were red from crying. “Jesse. I know he hates me.” She continues, “I know he hates me with every inch of his tired soul, I know he looks at me and sees someone who ruined him. Jesse— just— I didn’t think this through. I never think things through when it comes to this. I shouldn’t have panicked. I should've— sent him to a hospital—” he shushed her before she could cry any further.

“Angela,” he begins, his voice soft and caring and so full of love. “He never spoke terrible things ‘bout you. Maybe it’s true that he might hate you to some degree, but overall, he is grateful. Once yer get to know the kid, he’s chill. Just someone tryin’ to be viewed as human.”

This brings a smile to her lips, and when he calls her silly for drinking a full bottle of wine, she laughs. It is so entirely truthful, so heartfelt and so Angela that his heart sank.

That’s when he realized he had fallen for her.

•

He knew Angela as well as he knew himself. He knew that she was almost like Genji, prosthetics mistaken for clothes. He knew of her deceased parents, and knew of her inspiration to become a doctor. She, in return, knew about his past and helped him become a better person, and forget about who he once was.

“It is quite awful to base our lives on the past,” she told him one day. “Looking back to the past can be quite hurtful. All we can do is learn from it and hope we can spare the same from happening to innocent people.”

He remembered her voice as clear as day. And remembering this, he chuckled. Because when Gabriel, Jack and Ana died, she blamed herself: based her life on the past.

He guessed this made her drift further away from him. Regret, remorse. She had isolated herself from them when she found that The Reaper was her fault. That The Reaper was who she once saw as someone she’d hold dear for the rest of her life.

It didn’t help when she found that both Jack and Ana were alive. She was angry, as any would be, but she blamed herself for their identity loss.

But once she forgave them and herself, she was back.   

It was on a rainy day when they shared their first kiss.

It had been raining all day at the Watchpoint of the new, secret, and illegal Overwatch. They had spent the day at her office, and once the rain started to pour down heavily outside, he found it was hard to leave. 

“This storm, it reminds me of someone.” He said finally, after a few minutes of a comfortable silence. 

She frowned at his remark, and softly asked who it reminded him of.

“It reminds me of you. Beautiful to the eyes, calming to the ears, dangerous to the foes.” 

She laughed softly at that, and replied with, “ Then you most definitely are the Sun, warm and bright and inviting.” 

After so many years of keeping his cool at her laughter, he finally gave in, and slowly, as to make her aware of what was about to happen, he placed his hand under her chin, and softly kissed her.

Oh, how soft was that kiss. He cherished that moment, taking in all of her scent and her taste, so careful as if she would break at any miscalculated move. 

And when they parted, he found that Angela was as speechless as him. And unable to handle the silence, she too gave in to him and kissed his lips once more, just as carefully as he had her, but just a bit more eager.

That night, he did not go back to his dorm, instead he went to hers to listen to the soft sound of the rain outside, their lips meeting every now and then with words never spoken but the feeling certainly there.

•

He lost her on the battlefield. He had become too careless, grown used to working alone. It was his worst mistake, for she had tried calling for help but the Talon Agents held her far too tightly. Had made it impossible to whimper.

They only found her body weeks after the mission. There was no way of saving her, for she had died long before being found. There were so many hypothesis for the reason of her death.p>

He let himself get distracted, and that costed his best friend’s life (later he corrected himself and said she was the one his heart desired).

But even when he missed her, he’d look at the sky with Genji, share stories with him that she had told. And as he told those stories, he could hear a soft sound by his side. He freezes every time, and whenever he dares to look, he sees her as clear as day, correcting his stories for him.

When Genji would ask what the matter was, Jesse began to worry he had completely lost his mind.

He soon embraced the memory of her laughter, and eased Genji’s worry.

[doctormelapples]

give me the universe w those questions darling

Planets: Life

Mercury: What’s your full name? 

nah, Lila Michelle

Venus: What’s your first language? 

English

Earth: Where’s your home? 

With my friends

Mars: What’s your sexuality? 

Pansexual

Jupiter: Do you have any siblings? 

My little sister

Saturn: Any pets?

My puppers, Arenal and Madagascar, or Ari and Maddie

Uranus: What’s your hobby?

Photography?

Neptune: When’s your birthday? 

November 6!!

Pluto: What time is it right now where you are? 

11:24 AM

Moon: What are you currently studying/hope to study?

Art, but I can’t really “art” at all.

Stars: Experiences

Sun: Have you ever had alcohol?

 indeedydo

Sirius: Have you ever failed a class? 

not in the last 4 years

Rigel: Have you ever gone on a rollercoaster? 

Not a huge one

Deneb: Have you ever been out of your home country?

 I’ve been to canada

Arcturus: Have you cried out of something other than sadness? 

Erm, maybe anger

Betelgeuse: What’s something you can never forget about? 

When my mom gave me my fav stuffie on my 7th birthday. It felt like midnight, but it was probably like 8 or something. She came into my attic room after bedtime and showed me how she lights up

Aldebaran: What’s something you care desperately about? 

My sister?

Canopus: Have you ever broken a bone? 

nope

Bellatrix: Have you ever been forced to lie/keep a secret? 

oh god yeah

Alphard: Have you ever lost a friend?

What kind of lost? probably the answer is yes

Vega: What’s something you’ve done that you wish you hadn’t? 

The entirety of 6th grade

Constellations: Favourites

Centaurus: Favourite holiday?

probably New years eve/day

Orion: Favourite month?

probably maybe july or maybe april

Cassiopeia: Favourite book?

You’re asking me to CHOOSE? atm probably It’s Kind of a Funny Story

Delphinus: Favourite study?

Idk

Hercules: Favourite instrument?

Violin

Gemini: Favourite song?

whoooo idk,,,, right now I would say it’s maybe Hiccups by WATERS

Pegasus: Favourite place to be?

Outside, in my grandma’s apple orchard, or in a used book store

Libra: Favourite colour? 

pink

Phoenix: Favourite thing to wear?

Black Skirt

Aries: Favourite movie? 

Jack and the Cuckoo Clock Heart

Cygnus: Favourite weather? 

Those five minutes after a summer rain when the sun warms everything and maybe there is a rainbow and it’s wet and warm

Hydra: Favourite sound? 

Walking on gravel

Galaxies: Love/Friends  

Milky Way: Who’s your oldest friend? 

atm, oldest as in long-term, I guess Becca 

Andromeda: Do you consider yourself social?

I suppose my confusion at this question gives you that answer

Black Eye Galaxy: Do you believe in love at first sight? 

no. I believe in attraction at first sight, but love is something that begins, and grows

Cartwheel Galaxy: When was your first kiss? 

about a week before my 15 birthday, at a Halloween bonfire

Cigar Galaxy: How’s your flirting skills?

I’ve never heard of those

Comet Galaxy: Have you ever had to leave a relationship because someone changed too much?

one of my friends from middle school turned into a trump supporter, so… does that count

Pinwheel Galaxy: Would you date the last person you talked to? 

The last person I talked to was my mother,,, so no

Sombrero Galaxy: Do you have a crush right now?

nah

Bode’s Galaxy: Have you ever had a secret admirer?

idk, if i did they’ve stayed secret so.

Sunflower Galaxy: Would you date/make friends with someone out of pity? 

THat is Bullshit. firstly that is the worst way to start a friendship. 

Tadpole Galaxy: Would you deny a relationship/friendship? 

Deny? like someone asked to be my friend/SO and i say no? yes

Whirlpool Galaxy: Have you ever cried over a breakup? 

yeah

Other stuff: Wishes

Comet: What’s your big dream? 

i’m really lacking in dream inspo rn

Asteroid: What does your dream life look like? 

happy. full

Meteor: What’s something you wish you could tell, but can’t? 

If I told I would be lying

Nebula: If you could undo one thing in your life, what would it be?

sixth grade

Shooting Star: If you could bring back one thing, what would it be?

 old friends maybe

Pulsar: What do you hope to do in the next 10 years? 

learn

Supernova: What’s one thing you want to do before you die? 

learn

Quasar: If you could spend the rest of your life with only one person, who would it be? 

damn idk shit. 

Wormhole: What’s something you wish would happen, but know won’t? 

someone to love me, oooh shit we getting depressing yes

Black Hole: What’s the last thing you want to see?

my legacy

[fossadeileonixv]

Professor Rockett's Final Grades

This is a good picture that I like.

So as we wind up the season, I've decided to grade Milan's major players (at least five league appearances) as well as coaching and management on a very American A-F scale. Not much else to say, just read, respond and riot. Remember, these are only my opinions, so while probably right, feel free to disagree.

Keepers

Donnarumma (B+): The final month of the campaign was stormy, to say the least, and there’s little doubt that he cost us points in the league and a chance at the Coppa, but subtract those couple matches and you had a very solid junior season from The Don. During the hump of the season the wantaway (or manipulated, or both) youngster was vital in saving points to keep us within reach of the Champions League and without some of those performances we’re missing out of Europe next year. Markedly improved his footwork and distribution, and aside from his recent form, continued as a stalwart between the sticks. He’s a polarizing dude around these parts, but I for one, am gonna miss the big lug.

Defense

Calabria (B): I was not high on Calabria prior to this season. I thought that he had decent pace, good vision on the counter, and was capable of placing some accurate crosses but I felt he was undersized and slow to react on the defensive side. However, the gains Davide made this season were palpable and made me a believer. He filled in better than anyone really could have expected after the Conti blow, and minus a few hiccups, was a consistent performer for the bulk of the season.

Bonucci (C+): After a disastrous first half of the season where nearly every game was punctuated by at least one inexplicable personal mistake, the 42 million euro man settled in alongside Romagnoli nicely after Gattuso’s appointment and subsequent switch to a four-man back. While never really reaching the form displayed at Juventus, was a solid battery-mate to the breakout A.R., and seemed to nurture his growth.

Romagnoli (A-): Aside from Koulibaly, was maybe Serie A’s best defender from December on. Was the anchor of the defense when we implemented the 4-3-3, providing a stout base to, at times, a curvy spine. The comparisons to Nesta extend far beyond the number as his positioning, awareness, technique, and timing all made dramatic improvements. My team MVP.

Rodriguez (B-): Advertised as an inverted fullback, I expected a lot more from the Hot Rod after his move from Wolfsburg last summer. Stymied somewhat by a significantly weaker attacking left side, R.R. left a lot to be desired in attack, with many of his crosses and shots wildly off-the-mark. However, he held up his end of the bargain on the defensive side of things (let’s just forget that whole Arsenal tie), again, with less protection than the rest of the defense, so all in all, a nice little campaign, albeit a quiet one.

Abate (C-): Gattuso relied on his old chum a little too often for my liking, especially at the end of the season, allowing us to experience his footballing decay in real-time. Pizza making gif was worth keeping him around for though ("I'm gonna let you in on a little Abate family secret here, but the secret to any Neapolitan pizza is cheese.").

Zapata (B-): Can you name a game when Zapata went full Zapata? I’ll wait. The arrivals of Bonucci and Mussachio seemingly damned the Colombian to Europa and Coppa fixtures, but the latter’s inability to secure playing time and a small stretches where A.R. was injured provided Zaps with a couple handfuls worth of starts. Never really went into the ‘God-Zapata’ video-game mode that once cancelled out Higuain, but was consistently good, which is good enough for me.

Musacchio (D+): A weird combination of being third, and then fourth choice, and never really dazzling when given the opportunity left the former Villareal man on the outside looking in. To be fair, he never looked inept, and I would have liked to see him a bit more, but neither Montella nor Gattuso seemed impressed enough in training to make it happen.

Antonelli (INC): Came on mostly as a sub in the dying embers of the match.

Midfield

Kessie (B): I can see a couple eyebrows raised here, but while Franck is probably my favorite player on this squad outside maybe Romagnoli, and though I think he was indispensable to the midfield as our only true box-to-box guy, he suffered mightily at times from being overworked. I’m not faulting him at all as his energy, ability to push possession up, and marking were vital, and far ahead of his age. However, he was a net negative looking absolutely gassed in a number of matches due to a lack of a second option. Here’s hoping we get a vice-Kessie this summer because this kid is too good to run into the ground.

Biglia (B-): It seems so long ago that Lucas Biglia was in such poor form that the timeless Rick Montolivo displaced him in the starting eleven. Then Montella was fired and Gattuso gave him a second chance and he totally redeemed himself! In the few games he missed in the second half of the season, the drop-off in organization was noticeable. Provided uncompromising cover for the backline, short, silky distribution in possession, and was a vital cog in our unbeaten run in the winter.

Bonaventura [C]: This was a rather frustrating season for Jack. While the numbers are respectable with 9 goals in 47 games across all competitions (a more respectable 8 in 33 league appearances), more often than not he cut an uninspired figure on the pitch, giving away possession, running straight into defenders, and disappearing for large swathes of the match. The move from wing to mid may have something to do with it, but even so, that trademark ability to win one on one matchups that made his wing-play so effective was by and large absent.

Montolivo [C]: Old Lady Face did what Old Lady Face does, and that’s do an average job. I’m by no means a hater, as Monty was neither stellar nor poor, filling in admirably while Biglia got himself sorted. Much like a lukewarm cup of water to wash down some advil before bed, necessary and effective.

Locatelli (D+): Had a couple sweet performances towards the end of the season, but otherwise seemed to stagnate if not take a step back entirely. Continued to look overwhelmed in almost every duty as a regista, leading me to believe he isn’t really suited for the role, needs significantly more time to grow into it, or both. A year as a starter at a smaller club could do this kid wonders, because the growth has been uneven here and this past season was in some respects a lost year.

Attack

Suso [C]: Ugh. Just ugh. On one hand, he was the catalyst for a lot of scoring opportunities, pulling the strings, especially in the first half of the season, when no one else was stepping up to that challenge. I am inclined to say he was our most important attacker until around January. On the other, Lisi’s favorite whipping boy put it on airplane mode for the final two or three months of the season, with Milan’s best match of the year incidentally not featuring him at all. Whether it was that teams figured him out, or that his head was somewhere else, or a little bit of both, is something up for debate. But as the season wore on it became apparent that he is not as indispensable as many of us thought.

Kalanic (F): Why get worked up? We all know why. Flop of the year, with no second place.

Calhanoglu (B): After a slow start to the season (notice that trend?) Cal took over the reigns as the offense’s playmaker with the final match of the season punctuating his importance to the club going forward. Though the sample size is comparatively small, we haven’t had an attacking mid with this kind of quality since Kaka (and no, he’s not in Kaka’s class) with the Turk able to beat defenders, shoot from range, bury set pieces, and serve teammates on platters. Of all the young guns on this squad, he’s probably the one with the highest ceiling.

Borini (B-): My guy. The loveable Fabolous Borini seemed to find the net when we wanted it most and for the price, was maybe last year’s biggest bargain, filling in wherever was needed.

Silva (D-): Mr. Thursday Night was pretty much just that. Aside from grabbing three points in stoppage time at The Luigi Ferraris, Andre only seemed to show and prove against the farmers, making maddeningly poor decisions when given the opportunities in the league (seriously, remember him trying that backwards header off a bounce against Udinese? Oof.) Flashes of potential weren’t even there for most of the campaign leaving most of us puzzled as to why his price-tag was a high as it was coming from Porto.

Cutrone (B): This may be the most controversial grade on this dang report card. 18 goals and 6 assists across all competitions at the age of 19? I know, I know. The kid could earn close to an A-, but my issue with Young Pat is how inconsistent the performances were, to really, no fault of his own. The kid is a poacher in the purest form and for long spells of the season, the service, especially for someone of his stature, just was not there. And when he wasn’t fed, he had difficulty imposing himself into the match, physical as he was. An effective partner could do this kid wonders, and as such, next year is going to be interesting. One of the few untouchables and my breakout player of the year.

Coaches

Montella (D+): It started of well for The Lil’ Aeroplane, but Conti’s injury knocked out an engine which in my opinion, doomed the three man back. Hitting this turbulence, Vinnie was either too stubborn or too unimaginative to compensate and the team struggled to forge any type of identity. The two players that most outlets claim were his guys in Musacchio and Kalinic were flaming busts and it seemed he alienated himself from both players and management towards the end of his tenure. In the end, wrong man for the right job.

Gattuso (B+): For the record Gattuso is my favorite Milan player ever. Also for the record, I’m not sold on him leading this team to a top-four spot. I’m not as pessimistic as Mike, but also not as optimistic as maybe Russu, however you can not deny that he provided a jolt to this club when it appeared that nothing could save it. The beginning was rocky, and if you believed some of the rumor rags, he was close to walking away, but he stuck with it and led the club on a 13 game unbeaten run that included victories against Inter, Roma, and Nazio. Sure, Benevento proved to be his kryptonite, Juve thoroughly dressed us down twice, and his subs were confusing at times, but if we’re going strictly by results, there was a solid uptick after he took over and a lot of our players kicked it up a notch at the same time. No coincidence.

Management

Fassobelli, Mirabelli, and whoever our owner is (F): Harsh? Fight me. This management team decided to go for broke and buy our way into the Champions League and it blew up in their collective faces. Personally, while last summer was exciting, I didn’t buy it and had us finishing 5th and didn’t even see sixth as out of the realm of possibility. Starting with the coach, and continuing with expensive buys that in many ways contradicted other expensive buys, the group bet against common sense and depth and tallied up a massive bill with a better team on paper, but one with fundamental flaws. Sure, there are some nice pieces for next season (but let’s be real, a lot of these, Calabria, Cutrone, and AR, were here before the splurge), but I can't see into the future and I cannot give a passing grade to these cats when they spent over 200 million euros to finish… well here, let’s compare this season: 6th place, 64 points (18W, 10D, 10L), 56F/42A/+14; to last season: 6th place, 63 points (18W, 9D, 11L). 57F/45A/+12. How Mirabelli in particular still has a job is beyond me, but here’s to hoping they’ve learned from their mistakes.

That's it! You've reached level three.

Mike’s coming in with some heat soon. Me? I’m off to Ecuador for two weeks so I won’t be around. Have fun, and be prepared for Deadpool Pt. II (Murad, I’m mailing your package tomorrow I swear!)  

[uk-tech24-blog]

Lean, mean devouring machine: the Nook Tablet surveyed The Nook Tablet is more utilization gadget than tablet, however it's far more.

The Nook Tablet was reported after Amazon's Kindle Fire thus appeared to be more similar to a modest $249 me-excessively tablet.

While both the Nook Tablet and the Fire are quite utilization just gadgets, the Nook Tablet has all the earmarks of being the all the more well-thoroughly considered of the two. Its store is better masterminded and less demanding to utilize, the battery life is better, and it's less stuttery and irritating by and large. The gadget still pulls some punches of its own with its email customer and capacity, and we have a few questions about its environment, yet the Nook Tablet is a superior gadget than the Kindle Fire. It's more than sufficient to legitimize the $50 value contrast between the two.

The Nook Tablet is genuinely thick at 0.48 inches, a hair thicker than the Kindle Fire. Be that as it may, in light of the fact that the edges are decreased and adjusted, it feels slimmer than Amazon's entrance. The rest/control catch is on the left side towards the main, two volume catches sit inverse, and there's an earphone jack on top. A solitary catch underneath the screen, one formed like a lower-case "n," gives you a chance to pull up an alternate routes menu to things like the library and applications with one press, or the home screen with two.

The Nook Tablet's body feels rubbery and grippy, pleasant for clutching or adjusting on your leg for a moment time accomplishing something else. It's somewhat lighter than the Kindle Fire, by about a large portion of an ounce (it's 14.1 ounces), however very little less demanding for holding out at a separation while perusing.

The Nook Tablet's OS is Android-based, however it's a much more far off relative than the Kindle Fire. I saw far less issues with smoothness and responsiveness in the Nook Tablet than in the Kindle Fire. My taps dependably enroll, and swipes are smooth (put something aside for inside the program, which I talk about underneath).

The virtual console experiences an indistinguishable real issue from does the Kindle Fire and each other 7-inch tablet: the picture arranged console is somewhat too enormous for agreeable thumb-writing, and the scene console is too little for ten-finger writing. I present that, unless your hands are essentially bigger than mine, 7-inch tablets are quite recently never going to end up messaging, note-taking machines. I'd preferably attempt to sort things out on my cell phone than a 7-inch tablet.

All things considered, the console on the Nook Tablet is "avenues ahead" of the Kindle Fire's (which means: it works constantly). Writing URLs and short messages is not an indistinguishable errand from on the Kindle Fire.

Talking about email, the Nook Tablet comes furnished with a local email application. To set it up, you write your login and secret word into two fields similarly as you would in the event that you were signing into your administration's website page, and the application begins pulling your email down.

The email application is sufficiently quick and you can get to every one of your organizers, yet there's no real way to mass-oversee, or even rapidly deal with, each of your messages (past erasing them). There is a checkbox by each message for mass erase, however there are no catches for moving or chronicling messages. On the off chance that you need to move or chronicle, you need to open the real message, where a "move" catch will introduce itself.

Perusing

Perusing books on the Nook Tablet is a more refined ordeal than on the Kindle Fire. There is no lovely page turning movement, however you can swipe forward and backward between pages without even a hiccup. You get a scope of text dimensions and in addition a couple textual style and shading plan choices. A "find" alternative in the settings will pull up a scope of books B&N considers like the one you're review at the time, which could be helpful for when you've recently got done with something and are searching for a greater amount of the same.Reading magazines displays an indistinguishable fundamental issue from on the Kindle Fire; that is, the screen makes for a confined survey involvement and the text style of course is very little. You can zoom, yet in the event that the page isn't laid out in sections, you should look forward and backward to peruse.

Shopping, and security

The Nook Tablet's stores are altogether coordinated into one tab that you access with one press of the home catch. From that point, you can look the whole shop, or select a classification like books or applications and work through the areas independently.

Everything appears to be more costly on B&N's store contrasted with Amazon's, especially the applications. Each organization has its own particular application encounter autonomous from the standard Android Market, and they both have a remarkable absence of free applications. The Nook Tablet's applications appear to be frequently to be evaluated at three dollars.

The shopping application functions admirably and is anything but difficult to explore, however certain looking over parts need to snap to a matrix thus can seem rough when you're pulling them around. I likewise found that on the off chance that you open an item page, and afterward another related item page from that point, you get two stacked windows for every item, except you can't tell from the UI, which is a minor annoyance.The Nook Tablet additionally has an arrangement of entirely hearty security controls. There's a setting to require a secret key before each buy, which will prevent meandering fingers from purchasing up the whole store. There's no different setting to cripple in-application buys as with the Kindle Fire, however we couldn't discover an application with microtransactions to test whether the secret key necessity would apply there too.

Some other setting gives you "a chance to confine" utilization of the program and any social records associated with the gadget, similar to Twitter. This is practically an on/off switch, and when you turn it on, you set a PIN to have the capacity to utilize those parts of the Nook Tablet. In like manner, you can set a PIN for the bolt screen.

Perusing

Web perusing on the Nook Tablet is smooth, less rough and shaking than on the Kindle Fire. This is expected to some extent to the all the more reliably responsive touchscreen and more practical console. Regard for things like this that reach out all through the experience of a gadget go far to making even the slower, pokier undertakings can rest easy.

The Nook Tablet is certainly no iPad at stacking website pages. On a crisp restart page-stacking race, the Nook Tablet took twice the length of the iPad 2. The Nook Tablet scores in the vicinity of 4,000 and 4,200 milliseconds in our keeps running of the Sunspider JavaScript benchmark, which remotely trails the Kindle Fire's 2,500 milliseconds and the iPad's 1,700 milliseconds (speedier is better). Regardless of that, we'd say the Nook Tablet's program is not any more exasperating to use than the Kindle Fire's Silk program, possibly less so now and again. It reliably stacks pages faster.On site pages where the Kindle Fire attempted to play video and rather guided us to redesign our variant of Flash, the Nook Tablet played the recordings, as well as popped them directly into full screen mode, then stacked and played them perfectly. Zooming and looking over can be a little stuttery, particularly on more concentrated pages. Notwithstanding, the program is never so hindered that it doesn't get and follow up on your touches even while it seems, by all accounts, to be experiencing difficulty. For example, in case you're looking around however abruptly alter course, it will take after your touch promptly despite the fact that the movement of the page is uneven.

The program's address bar furnishes you with a back catch, a catch to bookmark pages, and a dropdown menu where you can open another window or view your other open windows. This is a problematic approach to manage numerous pages on a gadget. On an iPad or Kindle Fire, the tabs are in that spot, unmistakable or scrollable over your present page.

Video playback

With its 600 lines of determination, the Nook Tablet is not equipped for playing back genuine HD video, however it can change over 720p and 1080p video for review as required. It doesn't look extraordinary, yet it works.

Stacking recordings onto the gadget is fabulously simple—connect it to with the USB link gave, simplified your video of decision (upheld organizations are 3gp, 3g2, mp4, MKV, WEBM, H.264, H.263, and MPEG-4 Simple/Advanced Simple) into the Videos envelope, and they show up under Videos > My Videos. (Observe, Kindle Fire: this is great menu plan.)

Topping off the gadget's 16GB of capacity (13GB free, after the OS and its trappings) with recordings would be simple. In any case... of those 13GB, 12GB are held for things you buy from B&N stores. B&N, you filthy, messy cheats.

This is kind of specified on the item's website page, utilizing the accompanying dialect: "Around 13GB accessible to store substance, of which up to 12GB might be saved for substance acquired from the Barnes and Noble NOOK". I ask your exonerate—might be saved? It's held. There are no ifs ands or buts. You can't depict a high contrast stockpiling constraint like the conceivable symptoms of an over-the-counter medication, B&N. (B&N has said that they anticipate outsider applications to have the capacity to utilize the confine storage room also, yet despite everything you can't utilize it specifically.)

Because of the utmost, we could just fit one film on the gadget. On the off chance that you need more stockpiling, you'll require a microSD card.

Amid playback, you can't alter brilliance without leaving the motion picture and backpedaling to the home screen, yet you can change the volume with the applicable catches. The video will arrange itself flawlessly, without liveliness, to whichever course it recognizes you're holding the gadget. The speaker quality is serviceable yet nothing noteworthy, and just returns out of the on one side, so unless you're propping it against something the sound can be unbalanced.

At half shine, darker scenes can be difficult to make out, so I lean toward watching at full splendor. At that level, the ranges that should be dark have a particular purplish-blue tinge contrasted with the dark strip along the base of the screen.