#oh and i know stanley technically has apartments with beds in the game but.

[giddlygoat]

eight hours | the stanley parable fic 

[ 2527 words • fluff, could be seen as ship or platonic • oneshot; may be continued ] 

stanley’s tired. he just wants to get a good night’s sleep. the narrator eventually obliges, even if he doesn’t fully understand stanley’s desire to lay unconscious for eight hours. 

…

“stanley, what in the world are you doing?” 

usually, the narrator could wait patiently for stanley to leave his office before beginning their new run. he would use this short period as a sort of mental refresher, preparing himself for the adventure ahead and taking a moment of quiet to himself. stanley always left eventually, often in moments, but something was holding them up. he had seemingly crawled under his desk with his back to the corner in a curled up position that could only be so comfortable. 

“are you feeling unwell? you’ve been laying there for nearly half an hour now.” the narrator recognized the similarities between stanley’s display and general human tendencies regarding sleep, although he had not seen him asleep very often at all. he knew for a fact that stanley didn’t even require sleep. 

stanley only shifted slightly, adjusting the arm folded under his head. he made no effort to explain himself, or address the narrator at all, for that matter. 

“well, as long as you’ve not contracted some sort of deadly virus or something, i suppose i can’t stop you from sleeping my precious time away.” 

stanley’s face crinkled up just slightly, just for a second. the narrator felt a small zip of amusement through him. “yes, i suppose i should leave you to it. not like we have anything better to be doing right now… like exploring the surprise i made for you.” 

stanley did not perk up as the narrator had expected. that was strange; he was certain telling people that there’s a surprise to look forward to was supposed to be a sure way of getting their attention. 

“i said,” the narrator cleared his throat for emphasis. “you’ll miss your special surprise.” 

stanley burrowed his head deeper in his arms, as if that could block out the disembodied voice. 

the narrator sighed in exasperation. “come on, stanley, work with me here. is the mystery not enticing enough for you? what about i drop hints, or we play a game of hot and cold?” 

stanley did not move. at this point, the narrator knew very well that stanley would not be able to ignore him enough to fall asleep, and he deduced that his protagonist was simply ‘playing dead’ in the hopes that the narrator would get bored and flit off as if he had better things to be doing. 

the narrator almost chuckled at the notion. he would not break that easily. 

“look, stanley - i will be straight with you. i’m not going to stop pestering you until you leave that office. i really do have a surprise for you, something new - i really think you’ll love it! but you’re going to have to move in order to actually enjoy it.” a small prick of anxiety made itself known within the narrator. even when stanley didn’t cooperate, he would always move eventually. there had never been a time that the narrator was unable to motivate stanley to move eventually, either by persuasion, reverse psychology, or brute force annoyance. 

yes, he was sure of it. stanley had never stopped moving for more than an hour or so, and even on this rare occasion, it was with some purpose or goal in mind. something in the narrator’s subconscious urged him to reassure this thought thoroughly. 

stanley sighed, sluggishly rolling his head so that an eye emerged from his pillow of arms. he blinked slowly at nothing. 

“erm… please?” it felt awfully silly to say, and the narrator decided right then that he didn’t particularly enjoy it. 

however, it seemed to convince stanley. he sighed, crawled out from under his desk and stretched out, using his chair for balance. 

“yes! i promise you will not-“ 

[i want to sleep.] stanley signed. he had an air of determination about him. though, the narrator wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen him without that hard-headed aura. 

“sleep? why on earth would you desire to exercise the most boring of human functions?” 

stanley paused for a moment to consider whether or not this even counted as ‘earth’ before deciding that topic was a can of worms he wasn’t ready to open. he also decided that pointing out that sleep could actually be fun and fascinating among a dozen other pleasant side effects probably wouldn’t be useful, considering who he was talking to. 

so instead, he signed [i’m tired.]

the narrator scoffed. “no, you’re not. that’s physically impossible; i didn’t even code natural fatigue into you to begin with.” 

stanley grimaced. he wasn’t sure how to respond to that, especially not with the newfound bitter taste in his mouth. 

“if you’re just bored of the content so far, then i just offered you a solution. the surprise, remember?” 

stanley ground his teeth slowly, weighing his options. the narrator was not understanding him. this was a kind of bone deep, all-consuming exhaustion that had been due for a long, long time. his body didn’t have to ache for his mind to feel like a wet paper bag stuck to a parking lot. he was simply at his limit. 

but, he also didn’t have a lot of options. 

[if i come with you, will you let me sleep afterwards?] stanley was unsure of how to explain himself. despite the justification for anger in his situation, he felt nervous more than anything. he was desperate - he’d take what he could get. 

“sure, you can take a nap after you see the surprise.” 

stanley pinched the bridge of his nose. [no. i mean a deep sleep.] 

there was a very loud, very brief moment of silence. “…for how long?” 

stanley almost laughed. if he hadn’t already been dealing with this crap for so long, he might not have believed that he was bargaining the number of hours he got to sleep with some ignorant prick in the ceiling. 

[a night’s sleep. like eight hours.]

the narrator whistled, and stanley swore he heard the gentle shift of a rolling chair on the floor. “eight hours? that’s quite a lot, stanley. i’m not sure if i can swing that.” 

stanley made no effort to hide the obvious irritation on his face. [yes you can. you’ve swung harder for much less.] 

“well, what am i supposed to do for eight hours? i don’t exactly have a surplus of protagonists laying around at my disposable. i assure you, if i did, i would have given up on you ages ago.” 

[thanks.] stanley rolled his eyes. 

“gratitude is not the appropriate response here, stanley. that was a dig at your insufferable nature and reckless attitude.” 

stanley might have signed something in response if his hands weren’t busy holding his head. he drug them down his face, groaning in frustration. [please, let’s just get this over with.] 

“wonderful!” the narrator clapped. “right this way, stanley.” a familiar yellow arrow appeared on the floor before stanley, snaking through a newly opened door. the smile in his voice was back. stanley wished he had something to smile about too. 

“you won’t regret this. i made this just for you, you know.” the narrator continued to hype up the surprise stanley tried not to get his hopes up about. knowing the narrator, it was probably something underwhelming and useless, like another mostly infinite hole or a new closet. 

stanley followed the adventure line in no hurry. he allowed himself to fantasize about something beautiful and gratifying. the narrator occasionally rattled on about all the effort that went into this spectacular mystery gift, and how brilliant it was, and how ecstatic stanley would be upon seeing it. 

stanley imagined a stretching, open field surrounded by a horizon of trees and distant green hills. wind tickled his ears and sunshine kissed his face as he walked in the direction of his choice. no limits, no rules, no voice. 

the sluggish pace he progressed at did not escape the narrator’s notice. it either meant he was simply savoring every delicious moment of suspense or he wasn’t excited about his surprise, and something inclined the narrator to believe it was the latter. 

yes, upon closer inspection, stanley didn’t look happy at all. it then struck the narrator quite suddenly that stanley’s claims of tiredness from earlier were starkly evident on his features. he really did look exhausted. 

the narrator contemplated his surprise. perhaps the new closet he had cooked up would not please stanley as he had previously hoped. he knew stanley loved closets - there was no doubt about it, but he just didn’t seem to be in a closet exploring kind of mood. 

well, they were only paces from their destination now. the narrator had to act fast. 

“erm, hold on, stanley.” 

before stanley rose a brick wall, haphazardly slapped in last second. stanley took a step back, scratching his head. 

“let’s see… hold on, i just have to make a few minor adjustments. i realized my design wasn’t quite perfect and i really should present you with only the best.” the narrator hummed absentmindedly as he hastily constructed a new room in the closet’s place, digging through assets and arranging everything just so. 

stanley yawned slowly, unaffected. 

“right… there we go! sorry about that, right this way.” the narrator lowered the brick wall once more, and stanley followed the adventure line down to the end of a forgettable hallway. the door at the end was a deep green. stanley had to admit, the new splash of color was easy on the eyes. 

“well, what are you waiting for? go on,” the narrator urged stanley inside, anxious to see his reaction. stanley sighed, mentally preparing himself for disappointment. he twisted the knob and stepped inside. 

“oh, isn’t it just beautiful?” the narrator said dreamily. 

stanley had to pick his jaw off the floor. it… really was beautiful. he found himself in an expansive greenhouse surrounded by big leafy plants and frosted glass panes on every side. the floor was laid with swirling patterns in red brick and white stones. 

what caught stanley’s eye the most, however, was the enormous bed in the center of the greenhouse. a circular sheer curtain shrouded the bed in a hazy green. stanley was moving towards it before he could think.

“look, i’ve thought about what you said, and i think perhaps… i haven’t been the most accommodating. let me make it up to you.” the sheer curtain rolled back before stanley’s eyes, and he realized the comforter was fashioned to look like a lush moss carpet. he reached out and pet the fluffy surface, unable to believe what he was seeing. it felt marvelous. 

“you can have eight hours in here. oh, and i almost forgot-“ stanley only realized it had been silent when suddenly the sound of rain on the roof swelled around him. he looked at the foggy windows to see the color of the sky had darkened to a pleasant dusty purple. 

“there we go! perfect sleeping conditions. now, wasn’t that surprise worth it?” the narrator waited for stanley to move. he just stayed there frozen, his hand in the shaggy fluff of the comforter. 

“…stanley?” this was unusual. something about the situation inspired a prick of anxiety within the narrator. 

but sure enough, stanley’s taut shoulders softened, his hand retracting from the blanket. he looked around the greenhouse slowly, letting his eyes snag on every little detail among the abundant plant life.

had the narrator really created all of this just for him? just for this occasion? stanley gulped, inhaling deeply. the air felt richer and damper. his eyes stung. 

he didn’t bother signing. he unbuckled his belt, pushing off his slacks, and unbuttoned his shirt enough to pull it over his head and throw it unceremoniously to the floor. then he dove under the covers, eagerly wrapping himself up in the heavenly softness of the comforter. 

the narrator sputtered quietly at the sudden display, clearing his throat. he supposed that was a yes. “well, i suppose i should leave you to it, now.” he said rather awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. 

stanley’s eyes washed over the ceiling, watching the rain patter and roll on the glass above him. he finally worked up the determination to pull his arms out from under the covers once more in order to sign. [what are you going to do?] he asked out of curiosity more than anything. 

the narrator hadn’t expected stanley to say anything after all. to be perfectly honest, he didn’t have a clue. and in the vein of honestly, he didn’t particularly want to leave. he had just put this place together; it would only make sense to stay and admire it. just a bit longer. 

[are you there?] stanley signed after a moment. the narrator realized he had not responded. “ah, yes, of course. uhm… i was actually just contemplating that. i think i rather like this place, and i’m not particularly anxious to leave yet - if that’s quite alright with you.” 

a small smile grew on stanley’s face. the narrator studied it closely. [it’s very nice. thank you.] as if to prove his point, stanley gathered up the bunched up comforter in his arms and snuggled beneath it. the narrator studied this closely as well. stanley looked so… content. he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that. 

“you’re very welcome, stanley.” he smiled despite himself. maybe stanley would finally understand that the narrator had his best interest in mind after this. yes, surely he would take a lesson from this.

somehow, watching stanley burrow into the cozy cocoon of his blanket made the narrator feel inclined to keep those sentiments to himself for now. 

several moments passed by, and stanley’s eyes had closed, the rise and fall of his chest slowing. the narrator had to admit, the sound of the rain was quite relaxing. he knew if stanley wasn’t asleep by now it was only a matter of time, and then it would be eight hours of nothing. 

perhaps the narrator would leave at some point to work on new areas or flesh out his story. but until then, he found that he wasn’t bored. quite the opposite, really. watching stanley sleep was fascinating. seeing him at peace was a rare thing. 

maybe the narrator had been too harsh on him. what good is a protagonist who’s sick of his own story? the narrator toyed with the idea of allowing stanley to visit this place regularly. it could be good for morale, and give the narrator ample time to perfect his new ideas. yes, he would certainly consider it. 

until then, stanley was fast asleep, and the narrator suddenly had no one to talk to. he’d never understood the appeal of sleep, as it just eats up valuable time, but seeing stanley in this state inspired curiosity in the narrator. it looked cozy. he found himself wondering what that might feel like. 

these thoughts would zip through the narrator’s mind as he flitted around his maps, making improvements to his plots here and there. eight hours would pass slowly and quietly, and the narrator found that his pondering kept the inherit bore of it all at bay. 

[petersasteria]

168 Hours - Haz Osterfield (10)

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Haz Osterfield Masterlist ||  Ultimate Masterlist || 168 Hours Masterlist

DISCLAIMER:  *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which your son’s wish comes true and it turns horrible. Now, he has to fix it in 168 hours.

Special thanks to: @myblueleatherbag and @dudethisvoid for being so helpful

Click pictures for better quality

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐰𝐨 hours have been consumed out of one hundred and sixty-eight. This means that Harley and Amadis have ninety-six hours left for their mission. In days, they only have four days left. Harley didn't know what to do. He was panicking. Harley wasn't sure if his parents are falling in love again. Unbeknownst to him, his parents are already in love with each other.

Harley wakes up the next day feeling really good and he didn't really know why. He feels a presence next to him and he turns to see Y/N fast asleep next to him. Harley was surprised, but he sighed as he stared at her.

"Good morning, mum." Harley says in a whisper. He gets out of bed and stretches before walking out of the room to see Harrison sitting on the couch, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. "Good morning, da- Harrison!"

'That was close.' Harley thinks.

Harrison smiles at him and stands up, "Good morning, Harley! What do you want for breakfast?"

"Hm..." Harley hums in thought. He wanted a big breakfast. "I actually want a lot of things."

Harrison nods, "Okay, go on. Tell me."

"I want pancakes, bacon, orange juice, scrambled eggs, and a banana." Harley smiles. Harrison laughs, "Wow! Someone's hungry. I'll get to it."

Harrison walks to the kitchen and takes out the ingredients for pancakes. Harley immediately stands next to him. "I make great pancakes and I take pride in that." Harrison boasts.

"You sound just like my dad." Harley smiles at Harrison fondly. Harrison really is his father... or will be his father in the future. But it still kind of hurt when Harrison just laughs it off.

"I'll take that as a compliment. I bet he's an awesome dad." Harrison says. He gets the bowl and looks at Harley, "You can help me. Tell me the steps."

Harley nods and reads the steps on Harrison's phone, "Two tablespoons of sugar."

Harrison opens the sugar and puts some of it in a mug. Then he pours the contents of the mug in the bowl. Harley gasps, "You don't have the measuring spoon thing?! I think that's a lot of sugar."

"I like sugar, Harley." Harrison chuckles. "Read the next one."

"One and a half cup of flour." Harley reads. Harrison opens the flour and pour the floor in the mug and pours it in the bowl.

"It's getting everywhere." Harley comments.

"You see," Harrison says as he fills up half of the mug with flour. "That's the thing with flour. It gets everywhere."

"Either that or you're messy." Harley giggles.

"Haha, very funny." Harrison playfully rolls his eyes and puts the rest of the flour in the bowl. "Who needs friends when you have food?" He says randomly.

"That's true." Harley nods in agreement as he watches Harrison put a bit of baking soda in the mix. "Next we need salt."

"Salt?!" Harrison scrunches his face in disgust. "No one wants salty pancakes. Do you want salty pancakes?"

Harley shakes his head, "Let's just skip it. Two cups of milk." Harrison fills up the mug with milk twice and puts it in the bowl.

"Eggs."

Harrison cracks an egg and adds it in the mixture. He moves away to grab a whisk and hands it to Harley, "Whisk it, little guy."

Harley does what he's told as Harrison prepares the bacon and scrambled eggs. Harley reads the steps and adds a splash of olive oil and chuckles to himself when it gets on his shirt.

"I think this batter is good to go." Harley says. Harrison nods after setting the table. He grabs the bowl and starts cooking the pancakes, "Get the glasses and the juice in the fridge."

Harley obeys and does everything he's told. A few minutes later, Harrison is done cooking the pancakes and Harley's already seated on the table as he watches YouTube on Harrison's phone. Just then, Y/N hurriedly emerges from the room with her hair all wet and her clothes disheveled.

"Whoa, you look like a crazy person." Harrison laughs as he sits down. "Where are you going?"

"I'm so late!" Y/N groans as she sits down on the table and grabs a pancake before eating it with her bare hands. She didn't have time to use cutlery. With her mouth full she says, "I forgot I have an appointment with the wedding planner today! I'm also going to help Tom's groomsmen to pick out their tuxes."

"Isn't your fiancé supposed to do that?" Harrison asks. "I'm no wedding expert, but I'm sure he's supposed to do that."

Y/N takes a big gulp of the orange juice and says, "Yeah, well he's not here. He's in Prague with his best friend Bradley and this needs to be done now. We're getting married in four days."

She stands up and goes to the sink to wash her hands before going to the living room to get her bag and her wedding planning notebook. She puts on her shoes and turns to Harrison, "I'm sorry, I can't babysit with you today. I just- I really need to get things done."

"We'll be fine, won't we?" Harrison smiles at Harley. Harley nods excitedly and they say goodbye to Y/N.

"I'll be home at seven-ish. Bye!" Y/N leaves and the two boys are left eating their breakfast in silence.

"So, what do you want to do today?" Harrison asks. "We could binge watch movies, play board games, go to the mall. What do you want?"

"I actually just want to stay in, so binge watching would be nice." Harley smiles. "Let's watch Harry Potter!"

Harrison looks at him and pretends to wipe the 'tears' away from his eyes. He says, "Whoever your parents are, they taught and raised you well. Harry Potter is amazing!"

'If you only knew that you and Y/N are my parents.' Harley thinks.

The rest of the day is spent on binge watching Harry Potter, eating, and Harrison forcing Harley to take a bath. Aside from that, the day was amazing.

"Harley, help me cook dinner. What do you want to eat?" Harrison asks as he gets up from the couch. He looks at Harley who's busy watching Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince. Harrison waits for a response and when Harley doesn't say anything, Harrison shakes his head with a chuckle before going to the kitchen to cook something.

He ends up cooking lasagna. Unfortunately, it burned causing the smoke alarm to go off. Harley quickly opens the windows to let the smoke out and Harrison gets rid of the burnt food. Then they hear a knock on the door. Harrison quickly opens it and reveals someone he's never seen before.

"Um, yes?" Harrison asks.

"Oh, hi! Is Amadis there? I'm Finn." Finn smiles.

"Oh, he's at Prague at the moment. I'm babysitting Harley." Harrison grins. "Is there anything you need?"

"Nah." Finn shakes his head. "I just came here to drop off Amadis' mail. It's cash from... his work." Finn hands the envelope to Harrison.

"Oh, thank you! I'll guard it with my life." Harrison jokes.

"No problem!" Finn smiles and leaves. Harrison leaves the door slightly open so that the smoke would leave the room. A few minutes later, Y/N comes home and was surprised to see the door slightly open.

"Hey, why's the door open?! We could've been rob-" Y/N enters the apartment and was surprised to see smoke everywhere. "W-What happened?" She sets her things down and hurriedly helps them.

"I tried to cook dinner." Harrison sheepishly says. "It failed."

Y/N nods, "Yeah, I can see that now."

Harrison opens the envelope and his eyes widen when he sees two thousand pounds in it. He looks at the front part of the envelope and it says: 𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

"Well, we can buy ourselves dinner. I assume that this daily allowance is for Amadis and Harley." Harrison says.

Harley's ears perk up at the mention of the allowance and he nods quickly, "Yes! That's mine and his allowance. We can buy pizza and all other stuff!"

In the end, the buy two boxes of large pizzas, pasta, and a box of chicken wings. It was a perfect thing to wrap up the day.

𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄...

"You know, you really should answer your phone." Saint Thomas Aquinas points at Amadis' phone that keeps lighting up with God's name.

"Yeah. God doesn't like it when you don't answer his calls." Saint Christopher says as he munches on baby carrots and offering some to the other saint and the frustrated angel.

"I don't even know why you're so tense or whatever. You're doing a great job on your mission. Meanwhile Saint Anthony is still M.I.A." Saint Thomas Aquinas mentions.

Saint Christopher shakes his head sadly, "It's ironic how the patron saint of lost things is now lost. What a shame."

Amadis picks up his phone and clears all his notifications. He was about to lock his phone when he gets two notifications.

Saint Christopher takes a peek of Amadis' phone and smiles, "At least, we know Saint Anthony's alive."

"Technically, he's been dead for, like, a million years. In fact, we all are." Saint Thomas Aquinas retorts.

"Okay, I've had enough of your philosophical stuff." Saint Christopher rolls his eyes. As the two saints start to argue, Amadis sighs and calls Jesus through FaceTime. Jesus answers almost immediately.

"Hey there, angel!" Jesus chuckles.

"That pun will never not be funny." Amadis laughs. "How's heaven?"

"Great! We just had a banquet." Jesus answers. "Anyway, Heavenly Dad just wants updates. What's happening there? Where's the kid? I want to see him! Kids love me."

"Uh, I'm in Prague right now and I left the kid with his parents in London. I'm kind of following the other guy." Amadis bites his lip nervously.

"Other guy?" Jesus furrows his eyebrows. "OH! You mean, Thomas Stanley Holland?"

"Yup."

"Ahh, his mother prayed to me earlier today. Something about safety or whatever." Jesus shrugs. "Not that I don't care or anything. I do care, but like, he's a big boy. He can take care of himself. I can guide him, though."

"Where were you when he cheated?" Amadis sighs in frustration.

"He cheated?! Oh my gazebo." Jesus gasps. "I was busy tending to other prayers. I have so many piled up and I'm trying to get to all of them because if I don't answer one prayer, there'll be a non-believer."

"Jesus, we have five new non-believers." Saint Peter says in the background. Amadis purses his lips and Jesus just sighs.

"Anyway, I'll check in on you soon. Bye, angel!" Jesus waves goodbye with a smile.

"Bye!" Amadis gives him a tight smile before ending the call.

"You know, you shouldn't be upset that he cheated." Saint Thomas Aquinas pipes up.

"Why not?" Amadis rolls his eyes.

"Because it's supposed to happen. If he didn't cheat on her, she'd be married to him and she wouldn't be with Harrison Osterfield and they would never have Harley and you would still be stuck in heaven." Saint Thomas Aquinas explains. "It's all part of the timeline, trust me."

"I guess you're right." Amadis shrugs. He didn't want to admit that Saint Thomas Aquinas was COMPLETELY right because his ego might get big. Now all Amadis could think about are the 'what would've happened if's' and so far, he couldn't formulate answers.

* * * *

AFTER A LONG TIME, HERE'S AN UPDATE

𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @silencetheslaves @imeanlifesabitshit @joyleenl @hjoficrecs @myblueleatherbag @poguesholland @harryismysunflower @justanothermarvelmaniac @lonikje @lizzyosterfield @itstaskeen @ilarbu @turtoix @badreputationlove @starlight-starks @swiftmind​ @sovereignparker​

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell​ @justasmisunderstoodasloki​ @rubberducky-jrr​ @petersholland​ @osterfieldnholland​ @miraclesoflove​ @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​ @perspectiveparker​ @hollands-weasley​ @itstaskeen​ @call-me-baby-gir1​ @the-panwitch​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @chloecreatesfictions​ @holland-styles​ @halfblood-princess-505​ @spidey-reids-2003​ @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual​

[thelastifntdragonrider]

J’Imagine (I Believe)

A HTTYD fanfic 

Summary: Modern Canada AU. Winter in Canada lasts most of the year, the only real comfort that Hiccup has against the cold is his family, Astrid, and hockey. 

Link: on Fanfiction.net 

1: Canadiens vs Leafs

Winter in Canada lasts most of the year. The only real comfort to Hiccup was Toothless, his father and hockey.

Hiccup lived in St. John's, Newfoundland for his whole life. He loved the East coast with its dazzling sunrises, mild winters, and beautiful summers. His favourite memories included a trip to L'Anse aux Meadows with his father and mother, and playing hockey on the rink in his backyard with his friends, Camicazi and Thuggory.

Everything was happy for the Haddock family, though it was just Hiccup and his father – his mother was serving a tour overseas – until when Hiccup's father announced that they were going to moving halfway across the country. Hiccup was obviously upset, but maybe a new start was what Hiccup needed. Together with his dad and his cat, Toothless, their family moved halfway across the country.

New city presented new opportunities. There was a hockey rink a couple of blocks from Hiccup's new house. Family skating was open from one to four. For two hours after that, the rink was open to hockey players.

On the wall, there was a list of rules:

Hockey is open to all ages

Be respectful

Wear team bib in visible place

Standard NFL rules

Have fun

Hiccup picked up a red bib from the bin and skated on the rink with about a dozen other players. The Zamboni had just run over the rink, making the ice smooth and clear. Excitedly, someone tossed a puck onto the ice and the game was on. Smoothly, Hiccup took the puck and skated down the rink, easily handling the puck as he skated between two defenders. As he neared the goal, he lined up a shot and—

Slam

Hiccup groaned in pain as he was slammed into the side boards by a player in a Maple Leafs jersey, a blue bib tied around their upper arm.

"Hey!" Hiccup yelled, rubbing his sore shoulder. "What was that for?"

"Stay out of the way."

Hiccup jumped in surprise as he realized the other was a girl. Of course, he thought bitterly, I could get tackled every run in football by a girl, on the hockey rink it's no different.

Shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts, he hurried after the girl towards the puck.

A little while later as public skating started again, Hiccup was untying his skates when someone sat down next to him.

"Sorry about that side-check earlier."

Looking up, Hiccup was surprised to see the girl in the Maple Leafs jersey from earlier. "Oh, no. It's okay," Hiccup said. "I'm used to it. Everyone tackles the talking fishbone."

She laughed and held out her hand. "Astrid. Astrid Hofferson."

"Hiccup Haddock," Hiccup said, shaking her hand.

"Hiccup?"

"Technically, it's Harold..." Hiccup mumbled.

She grinned and stood up as Hiccup finished putting on his boots. "Want to go get hot chocolate? My treat."

"You know the hot chocolate here is complimentary," Hiccup said, accepting her hand to help him get up.

"Of course," Astrid said with a wink.

As they were walking towards the hot chocolate table, Astrid asked, "Which hockey team is your favourite?"

"Les Canadiens," Hiccup said proudly. "Are you a Leafs fan?"

"Yeah, stop laughing," Astrid said as Hiccup laughed. "I do like the Flames if that makes you stop laughing at me."

"I'm not laughing," Hiccup said.

"Yeah right," she said, giving him a punch on the shoulder. "You are totally laughing at me."

"Fine," Hiccup said, managing to wipe the smile off his face.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Okay, maybe they haven't won a Stanley Cup since like forever ago, but there's always going to be hope for them. There's enough hope for everyone." As they got their hot chocolate, Astrid said, "I haven't seen you around, are you new here?"

"Yeah, I just moved from St. John's a couple of weeks ago. My Dad and I finally unpacked the last of our boxes and I found my hockey gear so this is my first time here," Hiccup explained as he handed her a cup of hot chocolate.

"Cool, which school are you going to?"

"Lester B Person Colligiate I think," Hiccup said. "I'm in the French Immersion."

"Hey, that's the same school as me, but I'm in AP," Astrid said, giving him a light punch on the arm. "Why haven't I seen you around yet?"

"My dad is letting me settle down before going to school," Hiccup explained, rubbing the spot she had shoved him. "I'm starting next week."

"Cool! Give me you number and your first day, I'll show you around," Astrid said, giving him her phone.

Hiccup felt his cheeks turning red, but he quickly typed in his number. "So we're going to see each other a lot?"

"Yeah, of course!" Astrid said. "Maybe next time, we can go get some real hot chocolate from Tim's next week."

A smile broke over Hiccup's face and he nodded eagerly. "Yes, I would like that very much."

-xx—xx-

Buzz... buzz... buzz...

Astrid groaned and rolled over as her phone rang, jarring her out of her sleep. It was a Saturday morning in mid November, nearly two months after she had met Hiccup, and she had fully intended on taking full intention of not having to get out of bed until the afternoon, but someone decided to call her. The first time, she ignored it. And the second. And the third.

By the fourth time, she reached out from the warm blankets and put her phone next to her ear. "What?" she said grumpily.

"Astrid! Why did you take so long to pick up?"

Blinking confused, Astrid pulled back the blankets, the cold air in her room waking her up. "Hiccup? Why are you calling so early in the morning?"

"Look outside! Look outside!"

Without bothering to get out of bed, she looked out the window from her place on the bed. She saw the grey sky, some soft snow flakes falling from the sky. "What is it? It's snowing, stay inside where it's warm."

"But it's snowing! And look out your window!"

"Hiccup," Astrid said with a groan. "It's just snowing. The snow is going to be here for the next five months. Go back to sleep."

"Look out your window!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please!"

"I'm going back to sleep," Astrid announced. "Talk to you later."

"But—"

Before he could finish, she hung up her phone, dropping it on the floor, and pulled the blankets over her head again. She started dozing off when she was jarred out of her sleep with a loud THUMP.

Sitting up right, she looked around, trying to figure out what it was.

THUMP.

She turned around just in time to see a snowball hit her window. Angrily, she stopped over to the window to see Hiccup standing on the street, packing another snowball together. When he spotted her in the window, he pulled out his phone again and soon her phone on the floor started ringing.

Astrid couldn't help but smile as she answered her phone. "Hiccup. What are you doing outside?"

"It's snowing!" Hiccup said, waving his arms at the layer of snow that had covered the city over night.

"I can see it. Have you never seen snow before?"

"Maybe once? It hardly ever snows in St. John's. Come on outside!"

Astrid opened her mouth to protest, but Hiccup made a pouting face and Astrid sighed and said, "I'll be out in a moment."

"YES!"

Astrid didn't need the phone to hear Hiccup's victorious yell. After quickly changing, Astrid hurried outside to meet Hiccup.

Hiccup was waiting for her on her front law, trying to catch a snowflake, just like Toothless was doing beside him. Toothless was bouncing up and down, twisting around trying to catch the snowflakes before they joined the millions of other snowflakes covering the ground.

"Look! It's snowing!" Hiccup yelled excitedly, throwing snow up in the air. "So much snow!"

"Finally stopped complaining about the cold?" Astrid said.

"Who cares about the cold when there's snow!"

Hiccup spun around, his natural Newfoundland accent coming out in a tumble of excited words, making it near impossible for Astrid to understand what he was saying.

He stopped after an excited rant, looking towards Astrid as if he expected her to say something.

"What? I didn't catch any of that."

"I was just saying... I was saying..." Suddenly, Hiccup's voice lost its confidence and he looked away, fiddling with his mittens. "Oh nothing."

Astrid smirked and played with a handful of snow. "Are you sure it's nothing?"

Hiccup looked away and that was the opportunity that Astrid needed. She grabbed him by the back of the jacket, shoving a handful of snow down the back of his shirt. Hiccup yelped in pain, jumping around to lose the snow down his shirt. "Astrid!" he complained, shaking to get the rest out. "What was that for?"

She just laughed and clapped her hands in delight. Hiccup scowled at her, but it quickly dissolved into a mischievous smile as he picked up another handful of snow. "Oh, you're in for it."

Astrid laughed and stuck her tongue out at him. "Catch me if you can," she said as she took off across her lawn. Hiccup quickly caught up with her, bringing her down into the snow. Astrid laughed and twisted around, rolling them over and digging her fingers against his sides. Even through his winter jacket, Hiccup started laughing, trying his best to push Astrid off.

"A-as-astrid! St-t-top!" Hiccup wheezed out between laughs.

Her laughter died off as she looked down at Hiccup, she was straddling his hips. As she realized, she stopped tickling him, just resting her hands on his shoulders.

He was laughing, his eyes shut with laughter. After a moment, he opened his eyes and gasped as he realized how close he was to Astrid. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Astrid, I-I-I didn't mean to... oh gods."

Astrid laughed, smiling down at Hiccup. "Hiccup," she said to stop his nervous rambling. "Stop for a moment, okay?"

He stopped for a moment, nodding slightly. Astrid took a breath and leaned down.

"Astrid?"

"Hiccup?"

They were only two inches apart, their breath mingling together in the frosty air. For a moment, neither of them moved, only just lying there in the snow. Finally, Astrid closed the gap and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

Hiccup's eyes widened before they closed happily, but she pulled away after a moment. "Astrid...?" he mumbled happily, still not opening his eyes.

She laughed and pressed another kiss against his nose. "Get up," she said, getting up off of him.

"Huh?" Hiccup asked, struggling to sit up.

Smack. Hiccup fell down again as Astrid hit him in the chest with a snowball. Astrid laughed happily, smiling as Toothless jumped onto Hiccup, batting at the snow covering his body. Hiccup laughed and tried to push Toothless off of him as Toothless tried to claw his way up Hiccup's scarf. He looked up at Astrid, a large grin spreading across his face.

"Come on, Hiccup, let's go to the rink," Astrid said. "I'll go easy on you."

Hiccup raised an eyebrow. "Go easy on me?"

"Yeah, of course. The Canadiens can never beat the Leafs anyways," Astrid said with a wink.

"Oh, oh, oh. You take that back. The Habs can take on your precious Leafs any day."

"You want to bet on that?"

"I don't need to, I know that."

Astrid pushed him again. "Last one to the rink pays for the hot chocolate!" she yelled as she took off down the road.

"You know the hot chocolate is complementry, right?" Hiccup yelled after her.

She turned back and smiled. "Of course I do."

A smile spread across his lips and he looked down at Toothless who was weaving around his legs. "She's really amazing, isn't she?"

-xx—xx-

A year later, they had settled into a comfortable relationship. On whatever days they could manage to spare, they went to the hockey rink to play a game or two. Now Hiccup and Astrid were seventeen and in their senior year of high school.

Earlier in the day during one of Hiccup's hockey games, he crashed and the pain in his knee was too much for him to stand. Stoick took Hiccup to the hospital and still hadn't contacted Astrid with late afternoon, Astrid gave up on waiting and headed over to Hiccup's house. Stoick's car was in the driveway causing Astrid's heart jump into her throat. They had been home for a little while, judging by the few centimeters of snow piled on top of the hood of the car.

She knocked on the door and it took a moment for Stoick to open the door. As soon as he saw Astrid, relief flooded his face. "Astrid, it's good that you are here."

"Is Hiccup here?" Astrid asked. "He said that he was going to call once he came back from the hospital."

Sorrow flooded his face and Stoick held the door open for Astrid. "He's out back. I think he needs you."

Hiccup was sitting on a bench at the edge of the rink, snow dusting his shoulders, a telltale sign that he had been sitting for a little while. Astrid carefully walked down the snow trodden path towards Hiccup. Toothless, wrapped around Hiccup's feet, looked up and meowed a greeting to Astrid before snuggling closer to Hiccup's legs as if he was trying to keep Hiccup's feet warm.

"Hey Hiccup," Astrid said softly. "Mind if I sit?"

Hiccup didn't answer, only looking away from her across the rink. Carefully, she sat down on the bench beside him, gently brushing off the snow from his shoulders. "Hiccup?"

"Astrid, I don't want to talk about it," Hiccup said quietly.

"Hic—"

"Please. I can't," Hiccup said, squeezing his eyes shut. "I can't. I can't. I can't..."

So Astrid didn't say anything, sitting beside him and waiting for him to say something. Neither of them said anything for a couple of moments, leading Astrid to wonder how long Hiccup had been outside.

Silently, Hiccup stood up, taking his hockey stick in hand as he walked onto the rink. Suddenly, he let out a loud yell, hitting his stick as hard as he could against the ice again and again. Astrid winced at every anguished yell and the cracks of wood against ice, unsure of which would break first, the ice or the stick.

Or the boy.

Finally, the hockey stick splintered into two and fell onto the ice with a clatter, Hiccup falling to his knees beside the broken stick. Astrid approached Hiccup, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, Hiccup reached towards Astrid, burying himself in her warm arms without a word.

"Whatever it is, Hiccup, you can get though this," Astrid promised, brushing the snow out of his hair before holding him even closer. "I know you can."

"No, I can't," Hiccup whispered, his voice hoarse from the screaming. "I can't. Hockey is all that I had and now I can't. I can't."

"Hiccup?" Astrid asked,

"It's... bone cancer, osteosarcoma, they're going to have to..." Hiccup cut himself with a sob.

Curiosity was killing Astrid, but she just held onto Hiccup, brushing away the tears as they started to freeze on his cheeks. Finally, Astrid said, "What is it, Hiccup?"

Hiccup took a deep, shuddering breath, clutching onto Astrid tightly. "They're going to have to amputate my leg."

Astrid couldn't say anything but, "Oh, Hiccup..."

The flood gates had opened. "I'm going to have to get chemo and if that doesn't going to work, they're going to have to take my leg. Oh god. This can't be happening! Not after what happened to Mom. This isn't going to happen to me, I don't want to... I can't..."

"It's going to be okay," Astrid tried to comfort him. "You're still going to be able to do amazing things even if you don't have a leg."

Hiccup turned to Astrid, fury barely masking the pain that still lingered in his eyes. "Yeah? I can do amazing things? Like what?"

"Like..." Astrid hesitated, trying to think quickly. "Terry Fox also had cancer and look what he did! He ran halfway across the country on half a leg and raised so much hope!"

"But Terry Fox is a hero! He's the kind of person you learn about in school or see on the TV! And I'm not that. I'm far from that kind of hero." Hiccup turned around, silent tears running down his cheeks.

Astrid hesitated for a moment, before quietly saying, "Maybe not, but you'll be my hero."

"But I'm just..." He gestured to himself. "... all of this."

With a smile, Astrid took his hands. "And all of this," she said, "is you." A hesitant smile made its way across his lips and Astrid smiled back. "We're going to get through all of this together," Astrid said, wrapping her arms around him. "Someday, you'll play hockey again. I'm going to make sure of that."

With a smile that only last a second, Hiccup returned the hug wholeheartedly. "Thank you, Astrid," he said as she pulled away.

She smiled. "You're going to make it through this," she said firmly. "I'm going to be there for you, ever step of the way. We're going to play hockey together again very soon. On this rink."

Looking down at their entwined hands, Hiccup asked, "How can you believe like this?"

"The same way I believe that the Leafs will make it to the Stanley Cup someday," Astrid said.

"So like, never?"

Astrid punched Hiccup's arm, making him yelp in protest. "Hey. Take that back."

He nodded, rubbing his arm where she had punched him, the smile still ghosting on his lips, but something in his eyes became uncertain.

Taking his hands again, she put all of her emotion into her voice as she said, "If the Leafs never make it to the Cup means that you will be skating on the rink beside me again, I'm okay with that."

Hiccup laughed, lifting his gaze to meet hers. "Hofferson, that's romantic for you."

"I know, see all of the things I would sacrifice for you?" Astrid said, bringing herself closer to Hiccup. Now that the shock of his diagnosis had worn off, Hiccup now shivered from the cold. "Come on, let's get you out of the cold."

Hiccup gave Astrid a genuine smile as she lead him back towards the house. "Wait," he said as they reached the back step.

"What is it?" Astrid asked, turning to face Hiccup.

Carefully, Hiccup reached up and cupped her cheeks with his cold hands. He carefully leaned forwards and placed a gently kiss on her lips. Astrid smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, deepening the kiss.

"You love birds come inside before you catch a cold."

They jumped apart as Stoick's booming voice came through the closed door. "Oh gods, Dad!" Hiccup yelled back, his cheeks turning an even brighter red in the cold.

Astrid laughed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Come, let's get inside."

-xx—xx-

Sitting out in his backyard, Hiccup looked at the ice of his hockey rink in front of him. The low February sun reflected off the snow and a unseasonal warm breeze brushed against his cheeks.

Astrid squeezed his hand gently, her skates already laced up and ready to go. "You okay?"

Swallowing hard, Hiccup nodded. "I can do this."

With a smile, Astrid stood up and helped him stand up on his one foot and one prosthetic foot before helping him sit down in the hockey sled. Buckling himself into the seat, Hiccup placed his feet on the foot rest.

He looked up at Astrid beside him who was smiling widely. She held out the two shot hockey sticks to him. "Ready?"

With a smile in return, Hiccup took the sticks. "Ready."

Astrid pushed him onto the ice and for a moment, Hiccup slid with her momentum, but stopped in the centre of the rink. Looking back at her, waiting on the other side of the painted blue line, Hiccup placed the ends of the sticks on the ice and pushed himself towards her.

"Yes! You're doing it!" Astrid clapped her hands happily as Hiccup dragged the sticks on the ground to come to a messy halt beside her.

"Yeah, I guess I am," Hiccup said, his eyes filled with a strange mix of sadness and happiness.

"Hiccup, it's just going to some practice, you have to be patient."

He nodded, adjusting the grip on the sticks again. He pushed them against the ground, sending him gliding across the rink again.

"Turn!" Astrid yelled.

"I'm trying!" Hiccup yelled back. "Oh shit, how do I do that? I can't! Help!"

Astrid quickly took off down the rink and grabbed the back of his jacket, trying to drag him to a stop before he crashed into the goal posts, but unfortunately she couldn't stop them fast enough and she slipped and fell on top of him.

"Ow, Astridddddd," Hiccup moaned underneath her. "You're heavy get off."

Astrid was laughing as she sat back up, but when she looked down at Hiccup, she stopped laughing. "Hiccup, are you okay?"

His shoulders were shaking slightly and his eyes were closed. Astrid was sure if his eyes were open, there would be tears.

"Hiccup? Did I hurt you?" she asked, trying to check him for injuries. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, taking a deep breath before opening his eyes. "It's just so hard..." he whispered. "I've been skating for as long as I can remember. Now... I can't handle a puck, I can't turn, I can't even stop."

With a sympathetic smile, she helped him upright in his sledge. "I'll never be able to imagine what you are going through right now, but I am going to be here for you, I'll help you skate again, I promise. Someday, you'll be the best sledge hockey player, and you'll play on Team Canada in the Paralympics," Astrid said firmly. "It's going to take a long time, but you can do it. We can do it."

"Together... I like the sound of that," Hiccup said with a small smile.

Astrid smiled and gave Hiccup a quick light kiss on his forehead. "Together," she repeated.

Winter in Canada lasts most of the year. The only comfort that Hiccup had is his father, Toothless and hockey.

Now, he could add a brave girl named Astrid Hofferson to the list as well.