Decorum
hi it's been 8 years. I am now severely embarrassed by almost everything on this blog but do you know the one thing that has remained with me. this mf
watched the live action, dug up my hyperfix (the hyperfix has also remained, httyd tattoo and all) and found this floating in the drafts. one last yum yum for the freaks <3
~
Characters: Snotlout Jogenson, gn!reader, The GangTM
Warnings: i wrote this like six years ago
Notes: set after the second film. prompt was from an anon request that I can no longer locate, but did write down in my google doc, and I quote "May I request a Snotlout x Reader where he’s with the gang on Berk (set right after HTTYD 2) and being...Snotlout for lack of a better term, and the reader comes along and he totally changes and is all sweet and gentlemanly and everything bc they’re dating and the rest of the gang is kind of weirded out that he’s so different with them?"... whoever and wherever u are this is for u bestie
~
“Snotlout!”
Hiccup’s voice echoed across the training grounds. Y/N lifted their head from the leather sheath they were painting to watch Snotlout dash across the stonework, Toothless hot on his heels. Hookfang opened one eye, but otherwise didn’t move from the warm patch of sunlight he was lounging in.
Despite being crowned Alpha and Chief, respectively, very little changed for Toothless and Hiccup in their group dynamic. At least, it didn’t in Snotlout’s world. Hiccup was still susceptible to having his hair dyed green overnight, his blueprints hidden in the rafters, or his prosthetic leg replaced with any manner of random objects (including, but not limited to, knives, wooden cooking utensils, and once, a melon).
Y/N heaved a short sigh to themselves over their boyfriend’s antics.
The small complex was quiet this morning. The Gang had set up a hub for Berk’s defense after returning from Dragon’s Edge, mostly because they had all begun getting antsy since their return to such close quarters. The everyday bustle of Berk was far cry from the laid-back remoteness of the Edge. Having a central base for coordinating patrols and lessons was also a good opportunity for the group to relax, away from the rest of the island. The large rotunda they had built was high enough to not only see the entire village and any mounting attacks from the sea, but it also dimmed most of the clanging and chattering of the people and dragons below.
Typically the gang gathered there in twos or threes, as they all had duties now that they were back in the swing of things. The day-to-day was even more crazy now, with Hiccup taking over his late father’s duties as chief, though his mother tried her best to help. Y/N could see Valka was still a little on edge, but they couldn’t blame her. It must be hard to reintegrate after so long. Sometimes Y/N could hardly stand it all, and it was all they had known their whole life.
A few paces behind his dragon came Hiccup, splattered from head to toe in paint. He stopped momentarily to wipe the drips of it from his eyes.
“He loaded the catapult with paint sponges,” he explained when he caught a glimpse of Y/N’s inquisitive look. They offered a wry, sympathetic smile, and chuckled under their breath as he took off after the culprit. They were glad some things never seemed to change.
~
Throughout the rest of the day, the rest of the gang slowly filtered in. Fishlegs had new versions of his dragon cards to draft, Astrid wanted to paint a new shield, and the twins giggled quietly over a notebook. Snotlout came back, no longer tailed by an angry Chief, hefting Hookfang’s saddle and a bucket. He shot them a wink as he entered. They returned it with a quirked brow, to which they received a sheepish blush.
“Didn’t know it was him,” he mumbled, sinking into a chair to get polishing. They huffed amusedly and went back to their work.
Hiccup was the last to join them, with a box of rolled-up papers and metal trinkets. He had changed clothes, but there were still traces of paint on the back of his neck and in his hair. Snotlout snorted, but his snarky comment was cut short by a sharp look from the Chief.
They fell into a companionable silence, in their own little worlds together, which was even more of a rarity than all of them being in the same room at the same time, but it was precious. Even if Ruff was regularly asking for thoughts on her poetry (poetry being a term used loosely), and Snotlout had begun launching pebbles at the heads of anyone who looked too invested in their work.
Y/N couldn’t quite get the knife they were putting together to balance quite right and wrap the leather strips around the hilt, so they called quietly, trying not to break the comfortable mood that had settled over the room, “Snotlout, could I get a hand here?”
The man in question dropped his brush and his fistful of rocks and rushed to where Y/N sat.
“Just hold this in place, here,” they instructed, and Snotlout offered no snide comment when they adjusted his hands slightly on the leather and steel. They worked slowly and meticulously, building the handle and securing it in place, with nary a complaint from their helper.
“Looks good,” Snotlout praised as they worked. By now, there were a few straying pairs of eyes on them and Y/N was finishing wrapping a broad strip of leather around the handle of their weapon.
“Wonderful. Thank you, darling.” Snotlout leaned forward to accept Y/N's chaste kiss of thanks, and smiled at them a moment longer before returning to his saddle (and his rocks). No one spoke, but somewhat awkwardly returned to their activities. A pebble clanged off of Fishlegs’ helmet.
Suddenly, the bell from the central dragon-feed station clanged in the distance, indicating it was mid-day. Y/N flinched in their chair.
“Oh, by the Allfather, is that the time?”
“What is it?” Fishlegs asked, shooting a glare at Snotlout.
Y/N sighed. “Songtooth and I were going to help Bucket and Mulch with fishing today, he said he wanted a Thunderdrum for some new bait tactic.” They surveyed the materials spread out before them. “Odin’s beard, how did I make such a mess?”
For the second time that afternoon, the unreal happened. Snotlout stood, completely abandoning his half-polished saddle. “Don’t worry, babe, I got it. You go on ahead.”
Y/N offered him a grateful smile, and paused in gathering all of their things. “What would I do without you?”
His response was snarky, but not in the typically narcissistic Snotlout kind of way, entirely without his typical glib edge. In fact, he sounded uncharacteristically tender. “You’d be lost, probably.”
Y/N sheathed the newly-made dagger and pressed a kiss to their boyfriend’s cheek before scampering away, calling for their Thunderdrum. Snotlout watched them disappear around the corner, a blush coloring his cheeks. He caught Hiccup’s eye as he turned back around, and turned back into himself in an instant.
“What are you looking at, stringbean?”
“Ah, n- nothing!” Hiccup exclaimed. “Nothing at all, just thinking about all of my... inventing... stuff.”
Tuffnut, on the other hand, burst out laughing. “Snotlout, you’ve gone domestic! I can’t believe it! The beefy, ultra-viking Snotlout Jorgenson has become a housewife! Oh, I can see it now, in the far future, when women wear dogs on their skirts, and fruit is baked into cake, our dear Snot--”
Snotlout rushed the lanky viking and snatched up his collar, cutting him off and threatening to lift him off the ground.
“You’d better shut your stupid mouth before I shove it full of yak hair.” Tuffnut wriggled his way out of Snotlout’s grip as the bigger man quipped matter-of-factly, “they're my princess, they get what they want.”
“Talk about spoilsport. I was liking Snot-wife,” Tuff lamented as he smoothed his shirt collar and slunk back into his seat. He muttered something else incomprehensive as Ruffnut patted a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
The reverence with which Snotlout gathered Y/N’s things, tucking them all into their bag and folding their notes so they didn’t get crumpled was so contrary that it was almost hard to soak in. He held their bag carefully, and slung Hookfang’s saddle over an arm.
“See you losers later,” he threw over his shoulder as he left, pinging his last pebble off Astrid, who was closest to the entrance. ”Snotlout outlout!”
For a moment, no one spoke. They all sat, stunned at this new, selfless, not-at-all... Snotlout Snotlout.
“Did... all that just happen?” Astrid asked, breaking the silence.
“I don't know,” Fishlegs responded, sounding a little dazed. “I’m pretty sure I'm dreaming.”
“I think we just saw a new Snotlout,” Hiccup said, unfurling another blueprint absentmindedly.
“If Y/N can keep this one around,” Astrid proposed, “Petition to keep them together forever.”
A murmur of agreement rumbled through the group. Maybe Nice Snotlout would be nice to them after a while. If not... well, Y/N could always keep him in line.
