speech impaired

Literally please please don’t interrupt people who have speech impediments to correct or rush them.

That includes not interrupting:

• Stuttering

• Really slow speech / lots of pauses or ums

• People who have difficulty being concise because thats really common for autism/adhd/other nd brains

• People with lisps/slurred speech due to a natural impediment

• People who repeat themselves without meaning to (another nd brain thing)

We KNOW that our speech isn’t typical, and a lot of us (though not speaking (yes that was a pun) for all of us) are pretty sensitive about it.

By interrupting you disrupt our train of thought, and in some cases we will literally forget everything about what we were going to say.

Also noah fence but if you interrupt to mock, laugh at, or get angry at us for our speech I hope you have a bad day and step on a lego.

boys with speech problems (●´ω`●)
boys who stutter (●´ω`●)
boys who lisp (●´ω`●)
boys who aren’t fluent in english but speak it anyways (●´ω`●)
boys who have trouble talking to others (●´ω`●)
boys who are too scared to talk (●´ω`●)
boys who are mute (●´ω`●)
boys with accents (●´ω`●)
boys (●´ω`●)

So I’ve rewatched this episode a few times at this point, and each time I noticed new things about this scene. As more pieces fell together, we get a clear picture as to just how brutal Lars’ death was.

And this specific screenshot says it all.

Why? Because LARS IS CLEARLY STILL ALIVE AT THIS MOMENT. (Look at how tense his facial features are. There is no way that Lars could make this face if he was dead right now.)

Why is that important? Look at what happened seconds before, and what happens shortly after.

1) The explosion.
The robanoid had just exploded, and Lars was physically on top of it when it happened. At this point-blank range, and without any sort of protection, Lars was exposed to the full force of the blast. Just imagine being blown up at point-blank. All the fire, all the force, and whatever shrapnel would have been flying around, that’s what Lars was exposed to. AND HE WAS STILL ALIVE TO FEEL ALL OF IT.

2) The impact.
This happens a fraction of a second after this screenshot, but is still well worth noting. When Lars hit the wall, we could clearly hear a definite ‘crack’ noise. Judging by how he hit the wall, he most likely broke not just his neck, but probably his spine and skull, as well as several other bones, like his ribs or his arms. Along with this, there’s also a good chance that some of his organs may have been ruptured, such as his heart or his lungs. (Especially since the edge of the gem hole would likely have somewhat impaled him on impact.)

This is definitely the moment Lars died, as shown by how his face and body goes completely limp afterwards. But it’s still very likely he felt the agony of the impact for the split second before his death.

3) Lars’ scar.
This is probably the most brutal part of all of this.
As first said by the lovely @bedknees , the fact that Lars’ scarred eye was specifically covered by his hair before resurrection makes it very likely that his head was split open in that spot.

And I completely agree with this.

But how could this have happened? Shrapnel.

One of the reasons bombs are so deadly is not just because of the explosion, but also the resulting shrapnel that would be launched in all directions at anything in range. With Lars being at point-blank range of the explosion, he could’ve easily been exposed to this. And that’s exactly what I think happened.

Why? Because Lars’ scar doesn’t just slice through his cheek and forehead like skimming across a rocky surface may do. Lars’ scar also goes over his eyelid, which is shown whenever he blinks after his resurrection.

So how would’ve this gone down?

I think that a piece of the robanoid’s outer layer, probably sheetlike in shape, was shot through Lars’ head in a fraction of a second, cutting through this eye, skull, and brain, and launching out the other side. AND HE WAS STILL ALIVE TO FEEL THIS.(His hair deliberately covers his eye in this screenshot, in this moment where he is still alive, which probably proves this.)

And you can clearly see Lars’ face twisted in AGONY in the fraction of a second prior to his death.

Lars’ death was not a long, drawn out one, but was still a torturous one. To see just how violent and brutal his death was, it shows just how tragic this moment really is.

Bonus: Other possible scenarios

1) The shrapnel could’ve stopped partway into Lars’ skull, ultimately altering his brain function. (Steven’s magic likely wouldn’t be able to heal where the shrapnel would still be in)
(Although I think this is incredibly unlikely, since Lars is shown to act and function in the same way both before and after death. The areas of the brain that would’ve been affected would impair his speech, his perception of the environment, his motor abilities, his judgement, his emotional reactions, and his sense of self. This would result in a vastly different Lars than the one we know.)
(A similar injury has happened in real life; Phineas Gage. I suggest Googling him)
2) If the shrapnel had been much bigger, it would’ve cleanly cut off a large chunk of Lars’ head in a Mortal Kombat style death.

PSA: How not to be a dick 101

1. Don’t laugh at people who stutter or mispronounce words when talking in class
2. Don’t proceed to make fun of them and point it out
3. Don’t force them to talk just so they can mess up
4. Just leave them alone

I never see recognition posts for stuttering

Speech impediments are never mentioned in either mental or physical disability awareness posts but I have three friends who stutter and they’ve all said to me that they don’t feel recognised or validated most of the time so here’s to people who have a speech impediment that people have called them annoying for or that they’ve been told “just get it out already” for.

Imagine an AU where Loki actually dies. You, a healer, manage to bring him back but with fragments of his memory gone and his speech and mind severely impaired. You attempt to nurse him back to health as best as you can and he develops an incredibly strong need to protect you. The only problem is trying to get it across to you that he loves you.

Does anyone else get this thing where you can’t remember specific words? I’ve just assumed it was an adhd thing or a speech impairment thing, but if anyone can relate to this I’d love to know (if I can explain it well enough). It’s like if I’m talking and suddenly I realize that I can’t remember the word that I need. And usually my brain gives me a different word, and I know it isn’t the right word but it’s the only thing I can think about. Like if I need the word comfortable, but my brain only gives me contact or something like that. And sometimes I’ll mean to say one word, but I accidentally say something else. Sometimes I realize this after it has left my mouth and I hear it out loud, but sometimes I don’t notice at all. Like maybe I’m going to say “can you pass me the knife” but instead I’ll say “can you pass me the fork”. Forgetting words isn’t such a rare thing, I know that. But this happens to me a lot, and I was wondering if it’s a thing anyone can relate to?



Even though the western media have basically made up their mind that Bollywood is just about dance,sing,romance repeat,there’s so much more to it than just the glamour of it all.
While we have films like ‘Dilwale dulhaniya le jayenge’ which made us fall in love with Shah rukh khan and developed a certain idea of romance in our minds and is basically considered a classic in today’s times, we also have films like ‘Dear Zindagi’ which debunks the entire theory of romance and celebrates life the way it is.Yes we do have films like ‘Kuch Kuch hota hai’ which gave us an idea that ‘Love is friendship’ , ‘Neerja’ which showed us the story of an air hostess who does all she can to stall the terrorists from attacking the passengers on board , ‘Pink’ which stated that “No means No” , ‘Rang de basanti’  which awakens patriotism, ‘Queen ‘ in which the lead character  decides to go on her honeymoon alone when her fiance calls off their wedding, ‘Lagaan’ which portrays british colonialism  , ‘Barfi’ which makes us fall in love with a hearing and speech-impaired man and an autistic girl, ‘PK’ whose innocent nature and child-like questions force the country to evaluate the impact of religion on its people.
And these are just a few of them..there are still many many bollywood films which are not only entertaining but also prioritise an important issue beneath the entertainment.
THIS IS BOLLYWOOD. Not a Zumba class but simply an industry which loves its glamour,culture, dance, action,romance,friendship but beneath all the coating of entertainment is a thought provoking message or simply a  few life lessons most of the times.


Originally posted by porkdo-bi

Late night phone calls mean one thing and one thing only. 

It takes only the rich tone of his voice to get you into your car and even less to get you out of your clothes.

Neither of you was ever one to make public spectacles of your romantic escapades; you had reputations to maintain after all.

You each had rules about intimacy. No attachment, no messes. Encounters never lived to see the morning. That was the way it worked.

At least until you found each other.

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SugarDaddy!Cal Pt. 17

A/N: Helloooo. So, it’s sad to say that I was so excited for this chapter that I wrote half of it before even finishing 16 lmaoo, but I want to lightly blow your beautiful minds with this part. I’ve already written the next chapter so I can have a head start on you guys. As always, get this to 100 notes and send me feedback and I hope you enjoy💕

**WARNING**: Smuutt

One/ Two/ Three/ Four/Five/Six/Seven/Eight/
Sixteen/ Seventeen/ Eighteen/ Nineteen/Twenty{END}

It was awkwardly quiet as the three of you sat in your living room. Connor and Felix were sat beside each other stiffly, looking out of the corner of their eye to sneakily see if the other was looking. You on the other hand were sitting in your bean bag chair beyond annoyed that this was the first time they’ve seen each other in over a month and had nothing to say. Not even a simple hello.

“Well, yall waisting all of my time, but we’re not going anywhere until you talk so…” you shrugged your shoulders, pulled out your phone from your bra, and curled into the large chair while tugging a fluffy blanket over your frame.

“So….how have you been?” Felix scratched the back of his neck and Connor scoffed at the obvious question.

“How do you think? My boyfriend of almost a four years left me and hasn’t spoken a word to me for over a month.”

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anonymous asked:

Batgirl Movie

*sighs deeply, massaging my forehead*

Listen… I know you probably want me to go off on Jock Wheat Thins, and rant and rave about how ridiculous it is and demand that SOMEONE PAY because Babs does not deserve this… and a part of me really wants to. But honestly, the biggest Mood™/feeling I felt when I heard the news was simply… apathy. I’m just… not at all surprised anymore. Angry? Yes, deep down. Surprised? No, not one bit. 

I’m very disappointed because, even though we have yet to see it, the Wonder Woman film looks to be a step in the right direction for representing female superheroes on film. Even if the writers were men (as far as I’m aware, Snyder and Heinberg etc.) we at least got a female director: Patty Jenkins. And having a female director for a film starring a female superhero is not simply “super important”… it should be non-negotiable.

Though I’m not sure if it’s been confirmed yet, it is also very disappointing that the Babs they are possibly looking to portray on the big screen is the N52 Babs. I am not a fan of N52 and Rebirth Batgirl in general, I have not been following the comics because it upsets me that they deemed it acceptable to water down her character and magically erase her disability. Because as soon as they do that, it is no longer Babs for me. 

For a Batgirl film, there were so many options/opportunities, regardless of the director…

They could have chosen to focus on Batgirl: Year One, and shown the tenacious, fresh-faced Babs, frustrated with her father and others’ dismissal of her desire to become a police officer, breaking into Batman and Robin’s two-man club for the first time. (Do you know what this would have meant to girls watching this? That it doesn’t matter if the men tell you, a woman, that you can’t do something. That you are more than capable of accomplishing great things and fighting for what you believe in.)

They could have focussed on her evolution and growth into Oracle. The way that Babs works through the trauma of the events in the Killing Joke and comes out on the other side, stronger, and more determined than ever to fight crime on her terms. (Do you know what a movie like this would have meant to people that have had similar experiences and struggles? How it would have encouraged them and given them positive representation, someone to look up to? How many girls it would have inspired to go into computing or programming and learn self-defence, because hey, you can do both, you don’t have to choose?)

They could have started with Cassandra Cain, and told her story, because it doesn’t have to be Babs to be a Batgirl film. They could have delved into the harsh upbringing that Cassandra had, her rejection of her abusive father’s lifestyle and training, and how she eventually found a home and family in a grumpy computer-Mom, a caffeined-out, stressed bird, a girl who plays tag with her and wears all purple… and the brooding Batman, who comes to love and care for her in a way her biological father never did. (Do you know what this would have meant for children of abuse? For POC? For people who are speech impaired? To see Cassandra Cain, an East Asian superhero, overcoming her traumatic past and learning how to communicate with her new family as she moves forward into a future in which she can use her incredible abilities for good?)

(It would have meant a whole damn lot.)

All this to say: there were many, many much better story options that could have been chosen for the Batgirl film. There were many, many better and more appropriate directors that could have been chosen for the Batgirl film. So yes, it is very disappointing. 

But it is not surprising. 

anonymous asked:

betty and jug had a baby when they were 16 and are now 20, their boy was born with a type of autism and everyone felt 'bad' for them he had the type of autism where he wont look anyone in the eye and everything had to be done to a schedule but him and jug have a really good connection. all 3 go out to lunch and their son has a massive tantrum and jug has to settle him and betty feels helpless and has a breakdown, its okay if you dont know how to approach this it was just a thought i had :)

Okay first of all anon thankyou for this beautiful idea! I love it, very touching and I am honored you trusted me with such a concept. Secondly, sorry about the insane wait with this one I just had to take a while to determine how to best go about this.  Also this was supposed to be a little oneshot and turned into like 9 word document pages haah

as for the story I am a little unsure what you will all think as the subject matter was obviously a bit tricky. I am by no means an expert in this field but I did do a bit of research before writing so I hope I don’t offend anyone or invalidate anything. 

So basically I tried to make the symptoms of their child’s autism ingrained throughout the story without explicitly stating what they are but for reference I went mostly with communication difficulty [impaired, delayed speech, repetitive speech], difficulty with eye contact, obsession and slight aversion to touch. 


“Ready Jug?” Betty called from the living room eyes darting around as she mentally ran through the list of supplies she needed for their outing. The blonde nodded her head in affirmation, satisfied that she had managed to cram everything they could possibly need in the day bag.

The sound of two sets of footsteps padding down the hallway of their small home pre-empted her answer before it was delivered from the aforementioned party.  

“Yeah babe.”

Grabbing the day bag off the coffee table and slinging it over her shoulder Betty turned toward Jughead’s voice. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her lips as she took in the sight of her long-term boyfriend leaning against the door frame, their almost four year old son standing close to his father’s legs- not quite touching.

It was a vision that never failed to make her heart contract and warmth spread throughout her being.

Noticing her smile, Jughead’s lips twitched in retaliation. He raised a dark eyebrow at her teasingly.

“I think your mum’s checking me out bud,” Jughead quipped casting a glance down at Ollie who was idly fiddling with his fingers and watching the floor.

“Don’t flatter yourself Jones,” the young mother teased back, rolling her eyes at him good naturedly, “Okay let’s get going or Kevin’s going to lecture us on the value of respect again.”

Jughead let out a laugh at that, nodding before pushing himself off the door frame.

“Out,” Ollie mumbled glancing up at his father with wide eyes and scrunched brows that made the young man’s heart clench with affection.

“Yeah Ol, she won’t admit it though,” he kneeled down to his son’s level, placing a sure hand on his arm and waiting a moment before picking him up and settling the toddler on his hip.

Jughead grabbed his keys from the bowl near the door before opening the front door.

“It’s not even his event,” he threw over his shoulder to Betty continuing on with their conversation as though there had been no interruption; a norm after parenthood had dawned upon them.

The blonde merely shrugged, moving past him out the door way.

“Yes, although I think Veronica would probably appreciate our punctuality as well, she’s only in town for a few more days and it is her birthday,” Betty replied.

“Birthday,” Ollie mumbled as the pair manoeuvred him into the car seat. Betty smiled at her son, finishing buckling his seat belt as Jughead hopped in the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“That’s right, Aunt V’s birthday,” she affirmed, smoothing down Ollie’s wild blonde curls.  The toddler squirmed away from her touch, his blue eyes flicking to the floor.  Betty removed her hand and sighed.

She tried her best not to take her son’s aversion personally. He wasn’t as severely adverse or hypersensitive to touch as other children on the autism spectrum but it did still bother him. She and Jughead had learned resilience in showing affection to their son. He was mostly okay when the touch was heavy and anticipatory; it was the soft brushes of affection that they would sometimes slip up with through instinct that he would flinch away from.

They had learned to understand and adapt to the quality in their son, but it didn’t mean it made it any easier to have the little person you loved so much recoil from you. Betty cherished the moments when Ollie sought her out for physical affection or comfort and tried to remind herself of those moments during the moments when he shied away from her. She respected his discomfort, but it didn’t make her heart ache any less.

“Betts?” Jughead’s voice broke Betty from her reverie. She blinked a few times before meeting his gaze in the rear view mirror.  His tone was soft and understanding and Betty felt herself falling a little further in love with him in that moment- except it wasn’t just that moment it was a million moments since they were 16 and he had promised her that they would make this work.

She smiled back at him, a small curve of the lips tilting more toward the side of genuine than placatory, before closing the back car door and moving to climb in the passenger seat.

Her right hand immediately found the stereo, while Jughead’s immediately clasped her left, his other holding a firm grip on the wheel as they set off on the relatively short drive to Greendale. Veronica had booked a table at the new bistro that had opened there and although both Jughead and Betty always enjoyed seeing their friends whom were only in town for a short while longer the latter couldn’t deny that the unfamiliar venue caused an uncomfortable pressure to erupt in her chest.

Sensing her unease Jughead gave her hand a squeeze. Betty took a deep breath and let her eyes card over his form, finding comfort in his beauty. His sharp jaw, striking blue eyes and dark hair [still partially covered by a beanie] were features that had only become more attractive as he matured and she still found herself in awe of being able to call him hers after almost five years together.

The windows were rolled down slightly and Betty let the warm summer air calm her as it drifted across her skin. The sounds of the Rolling Stones filtered through the stereo of the truck and Betty couldn’t help but laugh as Ollie bounced happily in the back to the sound. He loved all music, but classic rock was his favourite, something Jughead was exceptionally proud of.

The peaceful feeling didn’t last though. Twenty minutes later they were pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant and Betty could see her friend’s various vehicles littered across the spaces. Her hands clenched nervously once Jughead had to pull his away to park the truck.

“Dad,” Ollie shouted from the back seat and Jughead turned around after shutting off the engine.

“Yeah bud?”

“Dad, music,” Jughead was spun around in his seat now, giving Ollie his full attention while Betty was busying herself grabbing the day bag and Veronica’s present from the back seat.

“We’ll listen to more later, but now we have to go inside,” the dark haired man tried to assure.

“Music!” Ollie’s hands were fidgeting and his eyebrows were scrunched, with a little pout to rival his mother’s best signalling his impending distress.

“Na bud, how about we talk about trains instead?” He placated, quickly unlocking his phone and pulling up some pictures he had saved of the freight vehicles to occupy his son’s attention.

It seemed to do the trick as Ollie grabbed the device eagerly and started babbling nonsensically a few delayed moments later about Thomas the Tank engine and his favourite trains.

Moving out of the car, Jughead came up to the passenger side and carefully extracted Ollie from his car seat, placing the little blonde boy on his chubby legs. Kneeling down Jughead held his hand out.

“Can I have my phone back please?” Ollie kept his blue eyes that mirrored his fathers trained on the asphalt ground, shaking his head.

“Thomas… blue train and Percy-“

Jughead nodded, engaging his son’s conversation.

“Yeah that’s very true but dad needs his phone back now. I promise you can have it back once we’re inside,” he tried to reason with him, ducking his head a little to meet Ollie’s eyes. The toddler shuffled flicking his eyes between his dad and the ground.

Betty bit her lip to hold back a small chuckle of amusement at the stubborn little boy; she knew he didn’t refuse in order to be stubborn but it was still endearing to her to see his eye brows furrowed so much like his father’s.

Moving gently down to kneel beside him, Betty ensured Ollie acknowledged her presence before placing her hands on his arms.

“Ollie if you don’t give Daddy back his phone then he’s going to have to carry you inside and no one will know what a big boy you are now,” she stated in a firm but not threatening tone. Their little boy’s eyes widened for a second, flicking to his mother. She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the adorably conflicted look on his face.

“Okay, I guess mum’s right,” Jughead began, moving as though he was going to pick Ollie up. The toddler’s hands quickly shot out, offering the phone back to his dad immediately. Jughead smirked as he and Betty shared a brief look with equal amusement shining in their gazes.

“Thanks little man,” Jughead said pocketing the phone, while Betty smiled at her son in gratitude.

“Big boy,” he uttered offering his hand to his mother to hold as they began to walk towards the front door.

“That’s right,” the blonde agreed, handing the bag over to Jughead.

Jughead paused before opening the door, turning to Betty.

“Did I tell you that you look gorgeous today Betty Cooper?” he asked in mock concern. Betty laughed, finding herself appreciating his ability to ease her nerves all over again.

“Shut up,” she murmured pecking his lips, before following him through the doors of the restaurant.

“Betty!” Veronica’s enthusiastic voice rang across the room before the young woman morphed into a blur of raven hair and purple fabric, practically throwing herself at her best friend. Betty laughed at her friend’s antics, holding her ground firmly as not to jostle her son- who was still holding her hand- too much.

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scarring at each corner of the mouth, impairment of speech (slurred/poor pronunciation) similar to dysarthria (which can be resulted from partial or total removal of the tongue), kijima cutting off parts of rio’s brother so they could “match”, rio finding another presence alive at the warehouse kijima kept his brother in, rio making coffee for two at the end, and etc…[x].

Here is a video of all the signs I mentioned in the other post (and some signs I mentioned but didn’t gif), since it seems there’s some issue with the gifs not working.

It does have me talking and making eye contact, but there are no loud sudden sounds.

  • Mute x2

 Means mute/nonverbal.

  • Speech x2 + interrupt x2

 Means Speech impaired, can be semiverbal or nonverbal

  • Talk/Speech x2 + Can’t

You can’t talk. Can be semiverbal or nonverbal.

  • Hear x2 + Can

You can hear.

  • Shutdown

It is used to mean power off such as electronic devices, but works very well for autistic shutdowns.

Neologism / Homesigns (Not official ASL, not likely to be recognized)

  • Feel x2 + Sign x2

Stimming. Since stimming is often a form of communication, it made sense for my brain to combine feeling with the asl sign for signing, which is basically communication through movements.

  • Autistic Handflapping x2 + Agent Sign

Autistic. It uses the way I flap my hands plus the sign for agent/person. If you use stiff wrists, it can resemble the sign for applause, which is also a nice little bonus.

anonymous asked:

What planetary aspects/positions do you think could contribute to someone stuttering or stumbling on their words?

an afflicted mercury or 3rd house, or mercury in retrograde (can have impaired speech, often overthinks about what to say, all-over-the-place speech), stellium in gemini or in the 3rd house (emphasis and stress regarding communication), gemini placements, especially gemini mercury (speaking too quickly and erratically, too nervous), mercury-Uranus contacts, Aquarius placements (sudden ideas, sudden need to vocalize them and can do so with speedy-stutter-speech) aries sun or mercury (impulsive in speech, likes to have the first word so can also speak too quickly and then ‘stumble’ from rushing), mercury in the 12th or pisces mercury, (timid, unclear and vague speech, speech can be impaired somehow, words come out differently than how they thought, speech will be their self-undoing)

HTTYD one-shot: A Little Scratch

               Title: A Little Scratch

               Requested by: @katurdi

               Summary: “Quit your whining! I bet it’s barely even a scratch.” Astrid scolded with a little smile. Hiccup whined again, giving her arm a light-hearted tap.

               Genre: Friendship, Romance

               Rating: K+

               Time-line: RTTE season 5

               Hiccup yelped in alarm, stepping back from the forge before gripping his good leg painfully. Sure, the poker just had to touch his good leg- his ONLY leg. Just his luck.

               He hobbled over to a bench in the corner of his hut, plopping down into it before grabbing his pants leg and hoisting them up to his knee, glaring at the bright red gash below his knee cap. It was already oozing red- almost purple- gunk. He hissed and pulled his pants leg back down and stuffing the ends into his boot, hoping he’d be alright until he made it to the clubhouse. That’s where the supplies were kept… well, where his were anyways. Everyone had their own stash of First Aid necessities in their huts, although he’d been stupid and had forgotten his saddle bag in the clubhouse after their last patrol. He always brought supplies with… and he’d sorta forgotten to bring his back to his hut.

               Hiccup gripped the doorframe and glanced outside where the sun was just touching the sky, shining the first rays of sunlight across the land. Hiccup swallowed thickly before hobbling alongside the wall of his hut, wondering where in the archipelago Toothless could be.

               But calling his dragon might be a bad idea, Toothless had a tendency of being over protective. Once Hiccup had burnt himself in the Forge back on Berk, and Toothless had gone bonkers, rushing about in a mad haste and had even dashed out and dragged his Dad all the way to the forge. It was quite embarrassing, to be honest. And Hiccup didn’t want Toothless to go calling one of the gang. Especially since everyone were still in bed- or so he hoped.

               Hiccup paused at the corner of his hut, glancing about hesitantly before limping quickly to the next hut- uh oh… Astrid’s hut.

               And she just so happened to be the lightest sleeper in the entire archipelago. A fly could buzz twenty feet away from her, and she’d still hear it and be wide awake instantly. She claimed it was reflexes- warrior instincts. No one dared to try any stunts on a sleeping Astrid, for she always had a weapon handy. The twins had merely walked by her once when she fell asleep in her chair at the clubhouse, and Tuffnut had been lucky to get away with his body still connected to his head, although his hair hadn’t been as lucky.

               Hiccup tiptoed as quietly as he could- but with an injured leg and a noisy squeaky prosthetic made going difficult. He froze in position when he heard something creak from inside, then the telltale thumps of steps against wood.

               He groaned when the door opened, rolling his eyes in defeat before letting them settle upon the girl in the doorway. He gave a squeak of surprise and alarm, jumping back slightly at the sight of her.

               Gods, since when did Astrid get bedhead!?

               “What?” She mumbled, swatting a hand at her hair and failing the meek attempt to calm her slightly frizzy hair. Hiccup inspected her again, smiling when he realized… he blushed furiously at the thought that passed through his brain, realizing that yes, he really did like Astrid and bedhead… All those wispy hairs flying about her face and the lose strands falling out of her messy braid… it was the complete opposite of the normal neat and orderly Astrid.

               Thor, she looked beautiful.

               He snapped out of his daze when he noticed her lips were moving, most likely asking a question. He shook his head and grunted a jumbled slur, eyeing her in confusion.

               She gave him a stern look before gesturing to his lower half, “I said, what did you do to your leg?”

               Oh, right. His leg.

               “I… I sort of, was working in the Forge…” Hiccup coughed nervously. “Dropped the stoker. And it just so happened to fall onto my leg- could’ve landed on my arm, seeing as how I have two of those, but nooo.” He joked lightly, seeing her face light up with a small smile. “It just had to land on my one and only leg.”

               Astrid laughed quietly, then stepped forward to grab his arm and help him to hobble forward. “You do seem to attract danger like a magnet.”

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