#point is I love archery and this dress

[tavina-writes]

I started writing an essay in the tags of a post that was not strictly related to this topic but started getting me thinking and realized I should just. Make my own post about this because I have kind of been sitting on this frustration for a while? And mmmm idk how to feel about this.

(For the record, the post that inspired this is this one.)

I want to make it clear UPFRONT that I am not knocking on ANYONE's interpretations of NHS or about having gender headcanons about a character in general. I think people can headcanon NHS as whichever gender they like because those interpretations are fun and exciting and I like to read about those too.

What I have been getting progressively iffy on, and am not entirely clear on how to express until I came across the above post is the idea that 'NHS is femme-coded because he has femme-coded hobbies' or 'NHS is very gender/gender nonconforming because he likes to paint and doesn't like exercise/practice his saber' or 'NHS is not very masc in comparison to his brother and people in his society put him down/are irritated with him/react to him differently because his gender presentation is more femme.'

And I think what's always kind of boggled me about interpretations like these that I've mentioned above is because...

Hobbies like keeping birds* and painting and calligraphy and poetry** and being well dressed and fashionable*** were strongly masculine coded scholar gentry hobbies for bored rich men**** in historical China. People react to NHS they way they do in text (at least from what I can understand of the social norms of the MDZS jianghu) because NHS is determined to be a particularly foppish dandy and also yknow, actively wailing about his many problems.

So, I think the tldr of this is that: NHS can be interpreted as whatever gender people would like! But his society and his peers and the other characters are not reacting to him in a certain way because he's femme-coded, they're reacting to him that way because he's an irritating asshole and kind of foppish (affectionate)

*keeping birds (as pets and not like, just raptors for hunting) was a rich man's hobby in Ancient China from at least the Zhou dynasty, though which birds were popular as pets (everything from parrots to orioles) differed depending on the dynasty, but the Ming and Qing dynasties were extremely big on pet birds in rich people's houses in particular.

**it is unclear if NHS is particularly good at say, painting or calligraphy OR poetry but the point is that he appears to like these things

***men's fashion has been a wild beast throughout the ages both in the east and the west, and men have done things for fashion like wearing gaudy archer's rings to show off archery skills they didn't have, high heels, Song dynasty men wore flowers in their hair, and my own personal unfavorite: the Qing Dynasty queue.

****the four gentlemanly arts were for example: qin qi shu hua -- playing the qin (music), weiqi (Go if you want to use the Japanese name for the game), shu (calligraphy), and hua (painting). See brief wikipedia summary about the four arts here. There were different things also included in the education of an aristocratic gentleman in pre-imperial China but we have no time to delve into that in this post. HMU for more info if you want it because I love to talk about historical things.

[mezzy-1]

VALORANT MEETING + DATE HEADCANONS

Hope you enjoy!

SOVA 

He was finishing recon in a snowy forest late at night and was done for the day.  He outstretched his arm and sent out the Owl Drone

So far, you had been hiking for about 8 hours through frigid woods and gotten lost about 2 hours earlier.  You were trying to make camp for the night but failing to start a fire

You caught a glimpse of Sova’s drone and followed it back to the man, who immediately regarded you with some suspicion but could see you were of his dimension 

Deciding to keep an eye on you, he led you back to his campsite and helped you set up your tent next to his

He was kind, and he quietly offered you a seat next to him by the fire.  Both of you sat awkwardly at first, not quite sure how to handle the silence

“Do you do archery out here?  I noticed the bow and wanted to ask…” you trailed off as he looked at you 

He removed the bow and two arrows from his sling.  “Would you like a look at them?”  You moved closer and inspected them.  The technology was intricate but your eyes wandered over to the man sitting close to you

“What brings you out here?”

“I wanted to do the Blue Lakes trail but I got lost a while back.  I was planning on stargazing at the top but…” you gestured to your compass, “I got lost”

“I leave here tomorrow, and I can show you to the trail if you would like.”  Sova offered

You accepted his offer and both of you went to your tents for the night

Humiliatingly, the trail back was marked but Sova didn’t seem to care that you got lost so easily.  The two of you just chatted about the surroundings while traveling onward

At the trailhead, you had to part ways.  But it didn’t have to be the end, and you made a fast decision and asked to see him again

“I’d love to!  What did you have in mind?”

Sova Date

At the trailhead, you finished tying your boots before a familiar voice called out

“Hello y/n!  Should we start walking?”  Sova had dressed in pants and a blue flannel jacket

Both of you continued up to a clearing in the forest, just as the sun was begging to set

You laid out a large blanket from your pack and set it down.  Sova took out a pair of bags and bottles of water

You hadn’t expected him to bring home cooked food, but you weren’t complaining either

Sova and you made yourselves comfortable, and ate while you waited for the evening to turn to night

Conversing with him was always peaceful.  He listened deeply and always responded with optimism or curiosity

The North Star was the first to appear, followed by a few faint constellations

Within an hour, the sky was overrun with stars.  Each point of light layered on another creating a portrait of the galaxy

Sova and you took turns pointing out constellations, each time trying to remember what each star was named 

Both of you relied on the book of astronomy you brought along to figure out what was in the sky

Sova had an understanding of stars to navigate, and would name stars in Russian or translate what he could

Although you and him were occupied with stargazing, you started to succumb to the cold of the night

“Y/N, are you cold?”

“No, it’s nothing you need to-”

Sova took his jacket off and place it on you.  The lining inside was warm from Sova’s body heat

“Are you still cold?  Come here, and stay close to me.”  Sova gestured for you to join his side

For the rest of the night, you and him stayed in almost constant contact until you both decided to head back

You followed behind Sova, his sense of direction and torch lit the way.  Despite being deep in the wilderness, you felt safe in his presence

When you arrived at the trailhead, Sova said his goodbyes.  He made sure you would arrive home safely before leaving.  His jacket was still on you

“Sova, you forgot this.” you held his jacket out to him.  

“Keep it Y/N, I want you to have it for the next outing.  I hope it brings you much warmth and comfort while I am away.”

“Here’s something to remind you of me.” you gave Sova a kiss

He was a blushing mess, and held you close before departing back to the Valorant HQ

While you traveled back to your home, you ran your fingers over the soft material of Sova’s jacket.  It smelled faintly of him

DEADLOCK

You were in LA when the Landfall facility erupted and you were caught in the crossfire of Omega and Alpha variants.  A single Shock Arrow went off course and hit you with enough voltage to knock you out

Once you came to, Deadlock had finished performing CPR on you, including mouth to mouth. 

When you came to, your face was covered in blonde locks of hair, gazing into eyes with intense blue irises, and her body pressed against yours

Iselin was red in the face, and so were you.  Perhaps for the same reason…

Other agents were finishing off the Omega team, Iselin didn’t really have anything else to worry about other than stabilizing you

“Can you tell me your name?” she asked, hoping to establish if you were coherent

You replied perfectly, and set her at ease.  Then you had an idea, and asked for her name

“Deadlo- Iselin, my name is Iselin” she responded

Because you managed to get at least a name, you pressed your luck and asked more about her

“That will have to wait, we’re taking you a hospital to make sure you weren’t injured in any other way”

Sage gave you a check up and confirmed you were fine, then hooked up a heart monitor before leaving to inspect other agents

Iselin walked over to see how you were doing, then sat next to your cot.  It was another chance to get to see her and you tried to converse politely with her

As you chatted she kept looking over your shoulder to something, all while still remaining invested in your conversation

“Do I make you nervous?” She asked softly

“What!  No!  Why would you think that?” you quickly answered back

“It’s just that the monitor says you have an elevated heart rate.”

Looking behind you, the screen did show you that weren’t as relaxed 

“Oh!” you exclaimed, “It’s just that, I find you kind of… attractive”

The machine was beeping rapidly now, but not detracting from the silence that swallowed the moment between you and Iselin.  She spoke first

“Would you like to spend some time together then?”  she was blushing as much as you 

As you walked out of the clinic, you made plans to see her again

Deadlock Date

You and Iselin decided to meet at a Valorant safehouse that Cypher had once used.  He promised he removed all the cameras

She had prepared some ingredients for dinner you could cook together.  Cooking was something she did with her old team

Because you were in LA still, she managed to find fresh salmon at a market and decided to cook it

She gutted it in front of you, and taught you how to debone, clean and prepare the fish.  Her skill with the knife was amazing, if not intimidating

You asked a for some help and she took your hand, showing you the right way to cut

The rest of the preparation was easier, requiring less input.  It was during this that you talked to Iselin 

For her, it was refreshing to find someone who didn’t know about her past, the trauma she’d endured, and could let in gradually

You came to understand that she was ex-military but nothing official.  Her main expertise was in tracking and scouting, which you decided to test

You’d ask about urban legends or survival stories and she’d debunk them or let in on a fact about hunting

The incredulous reactions you had managed to coax a smile out of her

As dinner began, you both started sharing more personal stories and began to get more well-acquainted with the other’s background

Iselin bristled when you asked why she was with Valorant, and she decided to say as much as she could stomach

“I had something happen to me and they were there for me.”  Her eyes darted to her prosthetic arm

There was a moment of silence, tension rose 

“I’m glad they were there for you, if they weren’t I don’t think I would have met you.” 

The words touched Iselin deeply, and she could only utter out a phrase

“Tusen takk.” she smiled up at you 

As you finished your dinner you both had easier conversations about personal tastes.  It was here you found that Iselin enjoyed hiking 

“Would you like to go hiking with me?” you asked tentatively

Iselin’s face lit up and she quickly responded with “Ja takk!”

Sadly she had to leave soon and you both exited the safehouse.  Iselin turned to you as you closed the door 

“Y/N, thank you.  It hasn’t been easy to let people get close but you’ve helped me relax a bit.  I won’t forget you y/n.” 

You got the sense Iselin was signaling something, and you leaned in.  She kissed you and held you close, then cautiously let go

She left you the same way she found you: breathless

ISO 

Your day at work had come to an end, and you stepped off of your bus preparing to walk the rest of the way home

Iso’s had already began, as he was chasing down a member of his past corporation.  He had finished off their friends, now it was time to end them

His target had managed to jump out of the window to avoid capture, but Iso didn’t let up even as their chase took them onto the street

A small commotion occurred as Iso’s prey shoved you to put distance between his assassin 

As they ran past you, one of Iso’s headphones fell out 

Right in front of you as he ran into an alley from your sight

What else were you to do?  Of course you had to return it to him (not because you wanted to get a better look at him)

You began to head towards the alley to see if you could catch Iso in time.  Meanwhile Iso put his abilities into practice

Iso’s target fell right into the Kill Contract, and the assassin stepped into the space disappearing into the Interverse

Of course you didn’t see anything, just a few strange purple particles floating through the air nearby

By the time he stepped out of his Kill Contract he ran right into you and you both fell over

Iso was bewildered and worried a civilian had discovered his secret  

He and you caught a glimpse of each other and stopped struggling

Sheepishly, you handed him back his headphone and he took it back while being careful to hide the pistol he had in his coat

After helping you to your feet, you asked him what he was listening to and his reply of 99 God was a welcome surprise

“Wait, do you like his music too?” you asked

“Of course, I’ve been to some of his shows too.  I have playlists full of him.” 

You just happened to have 2 tickets to a concert of his, and seizing on the opportunity you asked if he would be interested

It was a yes

Iso Date

At the concert, you met Iso at the front before walking in together.  The ticket staff asked if you were a couple while scanning your passes

Iso blushed immediately and you felt your soul vacate your body

“Ye- maybe?”  “Well it wouldn’t be that, b-” “Uh I think so?”

You both hurried in to the concert and got over the shock

“That was kind of awkward right?  Who even asks that kind of question?”  Iso broke the tension

“I don’t understand people sometimes.” you replied

Eventually that faded into background as the music started, it was a something else to focus on

You and Iso joined the crowd in excitement, dancing and singing to the music that leapt from the speakers

The opening set was absolutely worth the ticket cost

“THIS IS AMAZING!” you cried out.  Iso agreed emphatically

Lost in the moment, you watched Iso feeling the rhythm as purple lights from a nearby projector shown on the crowd

You gazed at him in awe as violet lasers ran over both of your faces, he stared back with equal entrancement

Deciding to embrace the moment, you both stole a quick kiss when smoke machines shrouded the crowd and the show ended

On your way out, Iso and you both talked about your favorite songs, the performance, and the special effects

“This was a great night y/n, we should do something like this again.”

Barely holding back your excitement, you kissed him again before heading home

Iso walked back home listening to a track titled “Songs for Y/N”  

Being a hitman was a lonely job, and even since he had joined Valorant he still lacked closeness.  Luckily, he had found you

GEKKO 

Thrash had gotten away from him while he was out running a few errands, and he was worrying at this point

He heard the sound of the creature knocking over cans and moving around the isles.  He dashed over to see her pouncing from a shelf into a cart

Your cart

She didn’t revert to a globule, but instead curled up into the cart along with your groceries.  Gekko was beyond panicked at this point

You cautiously reached down and tapped on the critter, and when it nuzzled your hand you started to pet it

Gekko was astounded by Thrash getting along with someone, and stood there in awe as you picked her up and continued to scratch her belly

You noticed him staring at you with his jaw hanging open

“Uh, is this yours?” you asked while handing Thrash over to him.  She flew into Gekko’s satchel excitedly

“Uh, yeah, thanks for catching her.  I never see her get along with other people so it’s kind of weird to see her like this.  The rest of my crew is a lot more chill.” 

“The rest of your crew?” you asked.  Gekko realized he said too much at that point

“Well I’m not supposed to talk about it but…a no la importa ahorita.”  he summoned Wingman and placed him in your hands

You saw your chance and took it

“I’d love to get to them and you too if you wanted to do something some time.”

Gekko went red, then smiled 

“Meet me tomorrow evening at the Kingdom train depot, past the security fence.”

It was a date, one you were eager for but slightly worried about

Gekko Date

Following Gekko’s instructions was easy enough, getting into the trainyard was easy but the fear of being caught was palpable

It was kind of a rush though, sneaking by all of the cameras and guards.  You knelt down behind some crates and let out a sigh

A finger tapped on your shoulder and you twisted around in fear

“Oye, calma!” Gekko whispered.  “It’s me, you can chill.”  He smiled at you and gestured to a bag you carried

It was filled with spray paints of different colors rattled around inside.  Gekko walked you over to a train car he had already covered in stencils

He grabbed 2 cans gleefully and shook them together.  He tossed the other to you and grinned.  “Lista?  Let’s do this.”

You both got to work, assisted by Wingman to keep watch and hand paint cans.  Deep blues and electric greens covered the car at first, followed by pastel violets.  

Cans of paint traded hands, fingers brushing near but never touching.  Until Gekko looked up at the top stencil and had an idea

He hoisted you up on his shoulders and had you paint it.  Wobbling back and forth, you sprayed the last parts of the design before he cautiously let you down

“Ok, I want you to close your eyes alright?” Gekko pleaded. “Wait up, okay 3. 2. 1”

Your eyes opened and saw the beauty you and him created together

It was a scene of a jungle at night, navy blue foliage covering up most of it while neon green fireflies dotted the mural.  In the middle was a prowling jaguar with a cub between its front legs

“It’s beautiful…” you whispered

“you are too” whispered Gekko.  Wingman abruptly pushed you both together and you met each other’s gaze

Both of you kissed each other quickly before blushing and quickly breaking down into embarrassed apologies

“You, I.  We should, do this more right?”

“Yeah, por supuesto”

Wingman lived up to his name that night

CHAMBER 

You’d met at after a charity dinner hosted by Kingdom, and it was the most boring thing you’d ever attended

It was a show of corporate goodwill but mainly to placate the public.  The only reason you showed up is because the donations went straight to your city

Plus free wine, which you had taken and were drinking on a balcony that gave you some space from everyone else

“Fait froid non?”

You turned to see a tall man dressed in a fine suit and prismatic tie, his hand extended in greeting

“Vincent Fabron, enchante”

He took your hand, refraining from kissing it and instead shooting you a flirtatious grin

He made small talk with you about the event, and brought up that he had been with Kingdom as a guest.  Both of you started talking about each other's lives

Fabron asked if you had a partner

You blushed a bit and replied “no,” to which he responded “Tres bien, then would you be free for dinner sometime this week?”

You were taken aback by how forward he was, but then again he was a gentleman and quite handsome

A digital chime broke the silence and Fabron checked his wristwatch.  An alert was going off, accompanied by some V-shaped sign

“I look forward to meeting you once more,” he gestured to his watch, “but I am afraid I have some responsibilities to tend to.  Au revoir”

He waved at you as he went back inside and disappeared

In your hands was the card, which had the address of a high end restaurant and a time written on it.  The other side was the business card of Vincent ‘Chamber’ Fabron

Chamber Date

Dressed in your finest clothing, you waited outside of the restaurant building but were unsure where Chamber was

You pulled out the card to see if you had made a mistake and noticed a colorful glow coming from it

In a flash of radiant energy you were teleported, right into a private room with Vincent waiting

“Bonne nuit, I hope the teleportation was comfortable.  Let me get your seat.”  

Vincent had finished lighting candles, setting plates, and took your coat before seating you across from him

You sat down to a prepared dinner of salad, coq au vin, and fresh bread

Vincent pressed something on his watch, then teleported a bottle of red wine to his hand and opened it.  He poured your glass and sat down as he poured his own 

He began asking more about your life, interests, and even a few intimate questions

You naturally responded with your own questions, learning about his time at Kingdom and even a little about his time with Valorant

He asked about your life some more, not forgetting any of the details you told him the first time you met

By the time you both had finished the wine, it felt as if you knew the other as lifelong partners.  Vincent was listening to you explain something, but you became nervous

“Am I boring you?  I didn’t mean to-”

“I assure you, nothing you do could ever be boring.  There’s nobody more invested in you than me, Y/N.”

You were taken aback, and felt a spark of something.  On an impulse you leaned in 

Chambers' lips met yours and both of you kissed, he had found a private room so the moment you both shared was only yours to know

When you finished, Vincent sat back confidently with a somewhat knowing, if not smug, look on his face

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that all night” 

FADE 

Istanbul is a lively city, so the few places that offered a bit of peace were an oasis.  One such oasis was a bookstore in Kadikoy

You had paged through books but hadn’t really found anything that piqued your interest yet.  The saturation of supernatural romances and dystopian teen novels wasn’t helping

A woman with dark hair was also reading through another book, but unlike you was invested.  She sat at a table with a glass of warm tea

Her hands obscured the title, but you wanted to know if it was worth reading

Not like you had other reasons

“Uhh hi, what are you reading?”

You came face to face with mismatched eyes and a curious stare

“Dune,” she moved her hand to let you see the cover, “I’ve had it recommended to me by friends.  It’s quite good.”

You instinctively replied, “I know right, especially when Paul-” you cut yourself off before spoiling the book

Fade wasn’t normally in a mood to talk with strangers, but something about you was different to her

Normally she could feel fear emanate from people near her, however she didn’t get any sense you held fear

Of course this intrigued her

“Do you come to this store often?  I come here often but I haven’t seen you here before.”

You told her you were visiting for the first time but often went to another store that closed

“So you read often, what genre is your favorite?” she had set down her book

“I prefer science fiction, but I’ll read anything with good characters.” you replied. “What do you prefer?”

“The same, although I’ll read anything when I have the chance.” she took a sip from her glass

Just as she finished, one of Istanbul’s many cats entered the store.  A calico covered in large orange spots and one giant black spot across its back

It came up to you and began rubbing against your legs.  Then it came over to Fade and did the same

“She seems to like you,” you mentioned before Fade took the calico and fed it something from her bag.  She held it in her lap as it chewed on whatever it was eating

“Come, she is friendly.”  Fade invited you next to her.  Obliging, you sat down and started petting the cat

“What is your name?”

“Hazal”

“And you are?”

“Y/N,” you took your chance, “Would you want to get khave some time and talk a bit more?”

“Evet, that sounds lovely”

Fade Date

The neighborhood of Moda provided the perfect place to reacquaint yourself with Hazal

Naturally as you were on your way over, Hazal found you first.  The woman is a bounty hunter after all

“Merhaba!” Hazal surprised you and led you into a small cafe.  There were only a few other customers, leaving you and her mostly alone

She ordered khave, and you ordered the same.  The Turkish coffee brought to you was the first you ever had

It was like drinking coffee grounds and pure caffeine in a cup.  It was an acquired taste but very easy to acquire

Hazal and you talked about books you had read recently.  You compared some of the adaptations you both saw in theaters, agreeing mostly that the books were better

The conversation moved to life, and you asked about what Hazal did.  She mentioned that she did ‘private investigation’ but now works with a private security organization

It was a secretive topic, but you were fine with her answer.  It was more important to focus on the future

“Y/N, have you ever had your fortune read?” Hazal asked

“Not really, do you know how to tell the future?” you replied, you were curious at this point

Hazal pointed to your empty cup

You passed it over to her and she looked it over.  She searched it over and then set it in the middle of the table

“I see in your future…a deep unrest and sudden death.”  She turned up to you with a dire look in her eyes

“I’m going to die?” you asked.  Hazal’s facade broke and she laughed a bit

“Hayir, relax, it is only a joke.  In fact you’ll like the reading better now.”

You calmed a bit, and laughed a bit at how she managed to mess with you

“It seems like you’re going to go through some change, brought on by things beyond your control.”  she paused to look over the coffee cup, “But something will bring you great solace during this.”

“I wish I knew what that something was.  Do you see anything else about it?” you asked  

“Well I have one theory,” Hazal pointed to herself, “It could be someone, not something.”

You decided to flirt a bit more, “And who could that be?” 

“Someone close, someone mysterious maybe?  They could even be right here.”

“I’d bet they’d even go for a kiss if given the chance,” you caught Hazal leaning in as you said it

You shared a kiss with her, the first of many 

VIPER

She rarely ventured outside of her lab and between running Valorant and missions, she had to keep her time off brief and tended to try keep a low profile

Her time outside of the HQ was generally spent visiting parts of the world and visiting art museums

Viper had a particular love of the arts, and museums were often silent so there was little interference from other people 

Except for you

She was observing Goya’s Black Paintings, specifically Saturn Devouring His Son.  It’s savagery was overwhelming and therefore intrigued her

You sat down on a bench to observe it as well, and maybe the other person in here with you.  The grotesque painting was enthralling, if not disturbing to think about

Then she sat down next to you, and you tried to keep your eyes on the painting.  It was impossible not to dart your eyes over to her

“Why do you keep looking at me?” Viper spoke in a bitter tone

Thinking as fast as you could you explained that you weren’t looking at her per say, rather just the…painting behind her.  You were looking over at Duelo a Garrotazos

She raised an eyebrow and sighed, “That’s an awful lie.”

To prove your innocence you went into detail about what you knew about the painting:  History, interpretation, value, and origin.  

Sabine’s suspicion turned to interest

“You know art quite well, is it a passion of yours or a profession?”

“Just a passion, and I wasn’t trying to stare at you.”

“I’m not as concerned with that anymore, what I am curious about is what brings you here.”

“Just wanted to look at the collection.  By the way, I never got your name.”

“Sabine, and yours is?”

“Y/N”

“Have you ever painted before Y/N?  Or are you mostly a critic?”  Sabine’s intense green eyes studied your reaction

“Only a little bit, but I enjoy it when I have the chance.”

“Would you be interested in joining me at a studio sometime this week?  I rented a space.”

Caught off guard, you quickly asked if she was trying to ask you out.  She was less interrogative now, and being genuine in her offer

“I would love to.” you answered. 

An alert from Sabine’s phone broke the moment.  Her face contorted into exasperation, and she quickly texted something back.

“It appears I have something to attend to Y/N.  We should discuss this later.”

Sabine handed you a page from a pocket book with her number, and after she took one last look at the gallery, left the museum

As she left, you heard her mutter something about her lab and ‘Phoenix,’ whatever that meant

Her leaving was a bit abrupt, but you would be seeing her again and you could hardly wait

Viper Date

Viper didn’t tell anyone about your date except for Brimstone

In her space she had assembled what she could for a still life: a few beakers and a collection of poisonous flowers like Oleandar, Belladonna, and Hemlock

Her arrangement was of flowers sticking out of scientific glasses.  It wasn’t the most ornate but it did offer plenty to paint

Knocking several times, you waited outside for Sabine to let you in.  She greeted you with a softer tone than at the museum

You began assembling your palette with Sabine.  You went for realistic colors, she went for darker variants

Each of you took a couple of brushes, dipped them in a glob of paint, and began your still-lifes

As you painted, you started discussing what each of you did for work, then chatted about art and world events

Both of you blamed Kingdom for much of the world’s current issues, and Sabine shared stories from when she worked for them 

Some of them were definitely a little worrying, considering she had not only slightly poisoned coworkers but avoided being fired in doing so

Her understanding of chemistry was incredible to listen too, she had a clear passion for it

“Why do you like working with poison so much?”

“I’m good at it, there’s not much more to it,” she paused, assessing her answer, 

“But I guess I enjoy what they mean to us.  We fear them because we don’t understand them, but once we do they control life and death.  I like that, the power they give to those willing to take it.”

“So you think of what you do as a way to help people, but using something that people don’t trust.”

“I suppose so.”

“Do you ever feel alone then?”  Sabine paused mid brushstroke, “It must be difficult having interests people are afraid of.”

“It can be Y/N, but I’ve found it isn’t as bad anymore.  Poisons have their place in my life, people are earning theirs.”  She went back to her palette

You added in more pastels to make the flowers stand out against the background

Once you were done, you shared the results with one another.  Yours was more bright, and had heavier detail.  Sabine’s was more abstract, focusing on brush strokes and tone

At the end, you both exchanged the paintings as a parting gift

Sabine cautiously asked if you would like to have dinner some time.  She picked at one of her nails waiting for a response

“Of course!” you replied.  Then leaned in and gave a Sabine a quick peck on the cheek

She could hardly get a word out

You and her left the studio planning on dinner and more art nights in the future.  You had settled on portraits next

Sabine later thought about asking you pose nude for a portrait but dismissed the thought

CYPHER

Normally, you tried to stay away from explosions, gunfire, and energy blasts.  While slipping away you were caught in a leftover trip wire you didn’t see

The wire had tangled your legs, and forced you on the ground 

You were frantically struggling against the wires when you heard footsteps 

“Well, well, it appears a fly has gotten caught in my web.  Let’s see who it is.” a voice coldly whispered 

A man in a white coat and hat stepped from behind the corner with a gun drawn.  His eyes were hidden by a dark mask, mechanical blue eyes took their place.  Unfeeling

At least until he saw you.  Despite the mask you saw the shock take hold immediately

“Oh, apologies,” he reached his hand out and retrieved the wire, “I wasn’t expecting others to get caught”

The initial fear you had turned to confusion

“Who are you?” you asked

“I prefer people I don’t know to call me Cypher.  Allow me to lead you out of here.”

His offer seemed genuine and you didn’t have any other choice but to follow him into a hidden room where he sat you down

“I didn’t mean to catch you, I hope it was not uncomfortable.”  he sounded regretful, and seemed to truly care about you

“Here,” he handed you your phone, “you dropped this while you were struggling.”

As you checked your phone over, you noticed the screen was glitching out.  It was randomly receiving and exporting data

Your savior/captor was entering something into a desktop set up in the room.  He was typing up something while you scrutinized your phone

Cypher turned back to you, and you caught a glance of a computer screen.  It read: SECURED DATA

“So, Y/N.  What brought you out here?  I know you aren’t a threat, but I’m still going to make sure you don’t reveal anything to someone else.”

“How did you know my name?” Cypher pointed at your glitching phone.  “You hacked my phone?”

“No, I bugged it.  Check the back, I planted it there when I handed it to you.  I wanted to make sure you weren’t spying.”

A small silver disc clung to the back of your phone.  You struggled to pull it off, so Cypher offered to help

“You don’t need to worry about me holding onto any of your secrets, I cleared the data once I was done.”

“Do you always hack people's phones when you meet them?”

“Yes.”  Cypher’s answer was completely serious, not a hint of sarcasm

You asked more questions, getting a better idea of who this mysterious man was.  It was difficult to get clear answers

“Y/N, I trade secrets for a living.  Give me something and I’ll give you something.”

You thought intensely, then it hit you

“I’ll tell you anything about me you want, but on one condition.”

Cypher’s interest piqued.  He leaned in to meet your gaze

“If you take me somewhere that means something to you, you can interrogate me as much as you want.”

His mask stretched in brief surprise, then slyly relaxed as he sat back in his seat.  He clasped his hands together

“You surprised me with that Y/N.  It’s hard to surprise me, so I’ll take you up on your little interrogation.”

Cypher Date

Cypher’s coordinates and description were slightly difficult to follow, but regardless you managed to get there on time

You asked for the second floor room in the tea shop, and were led up some stairs into a room with cushions, drawn shades, and hanging lamps

The entire room was bathed in dim colorful light and smelled faintly of mint

Next to the table was Cypher, his mask undone but eyes covered with glasses

“Ah, Y/N!  Have a seat, the tea was just brought up.” he gestured to a silver tea pot

You placed yourself across from him and watched as he poured a cup of tea, taking care to stretch his arm upwards to let the tea cool as it fell

He passed the cup to you and motioned for you to drink.  You took a small sip from the steaming broth

It was the best thing you had ever tasted.  It was sweet like honey but had a distinct taste of mint.  Moroccan tea was your new favorite drink to say the least

Cypher enjoyed it with you

“So, even though I may have researched you for security I sadly didn’t get to know you that well.  Tell me more about you.”

You told him about what you did for work, and the places you had traveled to.  Cypher probably knew about it but was still invested

He had his fair share of stories too.  A life of information brokering and spying left him with some incredible tales

His ability to make you hang on every word was unlike anything you had heard before.  The man was a natural storyteller, and invested you quickly

By the time you and Cypher had finished most of the tea, it was getting late and you were beginning to learn more about Cypher’s personal life

“Can I trust you with something Y/N?” Cypher removed his glasses to look at you clearly.  His eyes were a deep shade of mahogany

“Sure, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

“My name, my real name, is Amir.  People who are close to me know it, I believe you should know who I am too.”

“Amir,” you said while getting closer, “that’s a beautiful name.  I’m glad you trust me with it.”  

Amir and you said your goodbyes outside of the tea shop, using his alias of course

“Cypher, before you leave again I wanted to thank you for saving me.”

“It was no-”

You kissed him while you had the chance.  You did want to thank him after all

Amir was more than receptive to it, and you eventually had to break it off.  Glasses hid his eyes, but not his excitement

You had captured him this time

YORU

You heard the sound of something falling over and metallic components spilling everywhere

Readying a baseball bat, you flung the door open and prepared to swing 

Instead of a thief or even an animal, you were face to face with an oni.  Spectral blue energy spilled from the out from the portal it was clawing its way out of

Its bright blue eyes glowed with power, and it stepped through the portal towards you 

In your panic you swung and hit him in the ribs

“KUSO!  THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!”

On closer inspection, the ‘oni’ from before was a man in a bike jacket and wearing a mask.  It didn’t change the fact he was in your garage

“Who are you and why are you in my garage?”  You readied another swing

“Yoru, and I just teleported here because I was making an escape.  I didn’t think anyone was home.”

After a few seconds, Yoru tried to get back up but stumbled.  A red stain on his shirt gave away why

“Did you get shot?”

“What of it?  You hit me with a bat so I don’t get why you give a shit.”

You realized that not only was Yoru wounded, he was also unarmed too.  He had nothing aside from the mask he wore

“Stay here, I’m gonna get you some bandages and gauze.”

“I don’t need that.  I’ll manage without you, plus I don’t think you know what you’re doing.  No offense but I’m not gonna take help from-”

Yoru winced as you applied rubbing alcohol to the wound.  He inhaled sharply as you cleaned the bullet hole and applied aid

Once you had patched him up, he sat in the garage across from you

“So what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Do you always beat your patients before helping them out?  Or are you that bad at first aid?”

“You wear that mask because you got a messed up face?” you weren’t about to take insults from Yoru after you saved him

He removed the mask, and to your shock he was quite good looking.  He continued to scowl at you between sarcastic comments

He noticed the motorcycle in the garage, and gestured to it

“Oi Y/N.  That yours?”

“Yes, why are you asking?”

“I ride too,” Yoru adjusted his bandage before standing up, “looks like yours has got a bit damage.”

It was true, the motorcycle needed repairs and it was a chore to look up videos and learn to fix it.  It was good to learn, but time consuming

“I could look it over,” Yoru smirked at you, “but I’m not feeling so grateful right now.”

“Then you can come back later as thanks for me patching that hole in your stomach.  Sound good?”

Yoru was surprised at the offer, and despite his outward personality did retain a sense of politeness from his time as a yakuza

“I could come by again.   If I teleport in, you better not lose your mind again and hit me.  That pissed me off last time.”

“I’ll get it out if you forget to come by.”

“You’ve got a deal, Y/N.”

Yoru Date

Yoru teleported into the garage later than when he said he would.  A blue flash alerted you to his arrival

He went over to your toolbox, taking wrenches out and checking the sizes of bolts.  He also removed his jacket, placing it nearby

“Start it up, I wanna hear the engine.”  Yoru tossed you the keys.  The sputtering of the engine was not a great sign

“It’s the carburetor,” Yoru was absolutely certain in his voice

You and him got to work taking apart the bike and getting into the engine.  It was an older model of motorcycle, but Yoru seemed to know exactly what to take apart

Both of you finally got to the engine, and removed part of the engine block to get to the carburetor

“We need to replace it.  Give me a second, don’t touch anything else.”  Yoru disappeared into a portal

In the minute he was gone, the engine began to ooze black fluid.  You rolled your sleeves up and started to remove the engine block to keep it from leaking more

Yoru stepped back, holding a replacement carburetor

“What are you doing?”  

“The engine is leaking oil, I took it out so nothing else gets oil on it.”  

He got down to look at engine you removed, his disapproval turning to satisfaction.  He picked up a wrench and handed it to you

“Take the rest of it apart, we’re fixing the whole block.  After that, we’re gonna do everything else.”

After a few hours, the bike engine, tires, and suspension were replaced with new versions.  Yoru even stole some paint and redid the color on the bike

He got on the bike and started it.  A smooth growl came from the new engine

“Hop on, Y/N.  You and I are gonna make sure nothing’s wrong with the bike.” you both grabbed helmets

You got behind Yoru and held yourself close to his back.  Your hands were firmly around his torso

He revved the engine and peeled out of the garage.  Yoru sped towards the highway and weaved between cars

Street lights and vehicles blurred around you as the motorcycle rushed past them all.  Yoru’s driving was precise, but he was pushing the engine to the limit any chance he got

Cold wind forced you to hold Yoru tighter for warmth.  Even through the jacket, he kept you from freezing

Yoru’s driving had attracted some police cars, to which Yoru decided to let chase him.  He began the chase by popping a wheelie and tearing ahead

The cruisers tried to keep pace with him, but couldn’t match his speed.  Yoru flipped them off as he escaped

Suddenly a blockade appeared on your horizon.  Yoru seemed to smile through his helmet.  “Keep holding on.” he commanded

He drifted the bike into the blockade as he activated his mask.  You and him rode the bike into the rift

Your escape led you right into the garage, where Yoru skidded to a halt.  He hopped off the bike and smirked at you

“So, how do you like my driving Y/N?”

“That was insane.  I loved it!”

“You’ll like this too then.”

Yoru grabbed you and kissed you.  It lasted for a second but the moment seemed longer than that

When the initial shock wore off, you turned to a slightly blushing Yoru

“We should go for a joyride more often.” you muttered with what little sense you had

[gabessquishytum]

This popped up on my feed recently (it's fab!!!) https://www.tumblr.com/monobuu/730353005842644992/dreamling-as-morticia-gomez-addams-requested-by

Orpheus is the "normal" one in his Addams Family-esque family - his twin Robin is weird and still only talks to him in the language they developed as kids; his Da still practices his sword work and archery skills every day; his Father talks to ravens (that talk back) and creates fantastic dreams and nightmares; his uncle still wears sunglasses at night (like it's 1985; yes there is a reason,,,,but that doesn't stop him from looking AND acting like a douche) and likes to stab things; one of his aunts still hisses at his Father every time they're in the same room.

And don't get Orpheus started on how distractingly in love his parents are with each other (and don't get Orpheus started on how he desperately wants the same kind of relationship too.). If they aren't doing their separate activities, they are all over each other - kissing, snuggling, hiding (not very well) in corners with their hands all over each other.

Orpheus just doesn’t want to scare off his girlfriend, he thinks he's serious about her, but she needs to meet and accept his family, if she truely is the one.

AMAZING. I love Dream and Hob as Morticia and Gomez. It works so well for them. Hob in a smart pin striped suit with his collection of antique weapons (all of which he knows how to use); Dream in long black robes and dresses, rolling his eyes as Hob ambushes him from behind and dips him into an enthusiastic kiss... the two of them strolling the grounds, Hob holding a black lace parasol diligently over his pale husband to shield him from the sun... as much as Orpheus moans about how unbearable they are, he adores his whole weird family. Not only does he want a partner who can tolerate them - he wants a partner who can love those weirdos as much as Orpheus does.

Of course Eurydice proves herself to be absolutely perfect. She somehow manages to understand Robin and hold fluent conversations with him. She discusses the finer points of fencing with Hob, and even spars with him (she was a bit shocked when he brought out a longsword, but she adapted quickly). She loves hanging out with Dream and his ravens, and they even let her hand feed them! Even Uncle Cori begrudgingly admits that Eurydice is pretty cool.

All of Orpheus's family members separately tell him that he MUST marry her - she's perfect, they want her to come and live with them ASAP! Hob can't wait to spar with her, Dream is going to teach her more about raven care, and Robin can't wait to talk to her more.

Orpheus isn't sure if he's the one marrying Eurydice or if his entire family is marrying her! But he's very happy, and he can't wait for the (weird) wedding <333

[totallynuwonhere]

2nd Gen Shawpack Pookies

I’ve had them in my notes for AGES and I’ve still yet to finish a design, but i do intend on creating little skits of them cuz of how much I’ve invested giving them all personalities and pinterest boards. (If this isn’t me exhibiting my deep love for the Redactedverse idk what is)

Some descriptions are longer than the others, I’ve obviously put more thought into certain characters

•Shaw Twins

- both children are sadly ungifted in the kitchen, despite the fact that David has made them his little helpers when since they were little. Multiple flames have been put out because of them.

-Both do share a love for nature like their father.

Gabriella Shaw (Gabby)🫶🏻

- Angel carbon copy with a dash of Gabriel’s silliness and courage, which always made David smile.

- Natural born Leader. Despite being the eldest child (4 fucking minutes) David has never burdened them with the responsibility or thought of inheriting the business. She stepped into the leadership role on her own, with more brighter approach, personality wise.

- Rollerskates, Angel started taking her to roller rinks since age 6 and she loves taking Lyss and KC with her

Callum Grey Shaw 🌱

-Yes he’s named after the sweet Caelum. David wanted to commemorate his childhood friend.

- Inherited David’s resting bitch face, if you point it out he’ll even growl like he does.

- Great Observer. Because his sister was the more outgoing one of them, he was always the listener, making him more emotionally aware, noticing things most people miss.

- Loves sitcoms. He’s probably watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine so many times he can name episodes in order. This also translates his love for the security company his dad runs. Always begging David to take him to work with him. (I think we know who inherits the company)

•Talbot Troop

-Asher is the only one I picture having multiple kids with a range of age gaps.

-No doubt the most outgoing ones of the pack.

August Talbot (Auggie) 🍕

- Foodie

- Life of the party, stealin’ hearts with his million watt smile

- DDR is his sport

Kelcee Talbot (KC/CeeCee) 🧠

- Designated driver of the group

- Straight A student. When she was young she’d share all the interesting facts she’d pick up on to her parents and it always astounded Asher, how she can command a room, especially being the SOMEWHAT, mellow one among the three.

Oliver James Talbot (OJ/Ollie) 🪲

- Very inquisitive

- Youngest of the pack (the only 7yr old in a group of 17 year olds)

- Has a special bond with Alyssa

•Greer Icon

Alyssa Marie Greer 💥

-Now while i think of Milo and SW as the D.I.N.K (dual income, no kids) couple, and i will somewhat always think that, but— this name crossed my head and I just cannot let it go. IT HONORS MARIE OK—

-Unsurprisingly is always the best dressed. Milo is very proud.

-Has a very ‘takes no bull personality’ making them the most intimidating out of group.

- Plays archery competitively

- Straightforward

-Weirdly great with babies, explains her close bond with Oliver

•Collins

Sean Riley Collins 🥐

- aka Peace Officer Collins

- The code name speaks for itself, he is very much like his old man when it comes to ensuring his friends don’t do anything stupid, and in the very common occasions they do, he of course serves them with a patented Collins lecture.

- He may be half vamp, but that doesn’t mean he has to have a mundane food pallet, this man can COOK and bake, a soft, crispy shelled sourdough being one of his specialties

•Solaire

Hugo Solaire 🎭

- theater kid

- sarcastic, confident, somewhat frivolous, despite his royal status, which gets him in trouble for

- May or may not have a thing for the alpha’s daughter.

- Like Vincent, he’s mostly only close to the Collins’ but has occasionally hanged out with the shaw pack.

[star-girl69]

Hii are you taking requests rn? If so can I request a jake x neytiri x fem omatikaya! Reader fic where Jake and Neytiri have a fat crush on y/n but don’t really know how to go about telling her and they end up being really awkward about it. Maybe like they stumble over their words around her and the couple become an awkward mess trying to hint that they like her? Reader isn’t dumb tho and she can tell and admits she likes them too 🤭 would be super cute if it was a really fluffy fic!

Drink Your Poison (I’ll Kiss it Out)

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: a lot of facts about pandoran wildlife is incorrect and i apologize for that, i’m just too lazy to go back and change it. and i doubt it takes someone this much time to learn archery but… for the sake of the plot! also this is just obscenely long.

also i’m so sorry anon this fic just went off the rails 😭😭😭😭

warnings: animal death, mentions of death, near death experience, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of blood and injury, mentions of poison, angst, swearing, light fighting, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“My mother…” Neytiri starts, head on her mate’s shoulder, fingertips circling absentmindedly across his chest. “Wants us to teach her friend’s daughter how to hunt and fight.”

It is late summer, autumn starting to creep in. It’s is cold as the look at the stars, the summer is getting cooler, but they are warm on the other’s embrace.

“Why do we gotta do it?” Jake groans, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Neytiri shrugs, sees a wisp from the spirit tree fly above them.

—-

Every morning, you rise when the sun does. Wash your face in a bowl of water, eat quick, dress, and sling your bow over your shoulder to head out into the brightness.

The sun always shines straight in your eyes, and this morning is no different.

You look towards your left, to the forest, find Jake and Neytiri waiting for you.

You father had been a great warrior, but you had never excelled in the art of it. Once he died, your mother had been insistent that somebody carry on the family legacy- being the best hunter in the clan. With no other siblings to speak of, she forced training upon training on you, but it never took.

Until, finally, she confided in Mo’at about her issue.

Mo’at, knowing that Jake and Neytiri were still young, still needed practice. She decided that teaching you could be a sort of test for them- if they could teach you how to hunt, then surely they could lead the clan?

Every morning, you walked begrudgingly over to them, groaning all the way. It was not your fault you preferred other things to hunting, not your fault that you were not born for it like your father was. But, your mother was insistent, and you loved her.

You slap a fake smile onto her face you come into earshot of them, and Jake smiles widely and greets you. Neytiri sends you a tight lipped smile, but you do not mind. None of you want to be here, Neytiri is just not as good as putting on a show.

You look at Jake as his face turned serious, and he takes your bow from your hands. You’re a bit put off by his actions, but in the week they have been teaching you, you have come to learn that Jake often has a plan for each moment he makes. Everything is intentional.

He points to the string.

“What is this called?”

He smiles as you roll your eyes, giving you and expectant look.

“Really?” you ask, feeling like a child.

“What is this?” he simply asks again, and you sigh.

“The string.”

“Good. And this?”

It continues on until you have named all the parts of how correctly, and Jake smiles.

“Good girl,” he praises, and although your stomach flips in a way it shouldn’t, you have grown used to the names he calls you.

“Yes,” Neytiri says, sliding off of the large rock she was sitting on. “You did well. You are ready.”

You face lights up, the prospect of this early morning torture ending making your heart twist.

“Just to shoot,” she says, but smiles at your disappointed look.

Due to their duties, your lessons are early in the morning and quite short, so your training takes triple the time than it would someone learning from your old teacher.

“Soon,” Jake tries, handing you the bow, and you can only bite back a grumble as you trudge through the forest.

—-

It is the third day of shooting when it finally happens.

You had been waiting all this time, for the pressure to get to you, for you to snap and fall, break apart.

You are being held together by the stems of flowers, so close to breaking, the air permeated by the sound of its slow rip.

You trudge through the woods yet again, feeling defeated before you had even started. In theory, you should be an expert at the bow.

You know each part of it, your stance is perfect, and yet you can never quiet hit the bullseye.

You feel like a stupid child, and you curse the day your father died. If he had not died so early, left so much ambiguity, perhaps your mother would not be scrambling for pieces of him in you.

It is a heavy weight to carry, and your back is breaking under the pressure.

You sigh as you face the target, Jake watching your stance.

“Good, good. Try moving your foot a bit forward- yes, perfect. Atta girl.”

You send a silent prayer to Eywa, more so a plea, begging to hit the bullseye just once. So you can go home and tell your mother, and perhaps she will start to heal, perhaps she will let you be you.

“You’re too tense,” Neytiri notes, and your eyes are already blurry with tears.

“‘M not,” you mutter, and she clicks her tongue.

“You cannot shoot if you mind is elsewhere. Hunting is as physical as it is mental. What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” you hiss. You can no longer slap a smile onto your face, pretend it is all well. The clearing falls silent, and you only feel more stupid, more worthless. “Can I shoot?” you ask through the silence, voice choked up.

“Yeah,” Jake whispers, and your arrow cuts through the tension as you release it.

But, with your blurry eyes and tense muscles, the arrow sinks into the drift below the target, missing the bullseye. Missing the bullseye.

It takes a second for it to sink in, for your eyes to clear enough of the salt to even see where the arrow had landed. But, you see it, and you have never felt like more of a failure.

Tears fall down your face, like the final decrescendo of a song, and you are filled with an overwhelming self hate.

Soon, you cannot see in front of you again, and the bow is falling to the ground and your hands are coming to you face, pressing against your mouth as you choke back a loud sob.

Why can’t you be like you father? Why cant you be what your mother needs you to be?

Your cries are loud as they fill the clearing, and you don’t stop until a warm hand rests on your shoulder.

Like the recoil of the string after you let go of the arrow, you snap into place, spine straight. You turn, saying how sorry you are, desperate to push past whoever is stopping you and run back to your bed.

Is it wrong to hide there forever, pretend you have never seen a bow before, pretend the pressures of your mother don’t exist?

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, head tucked into your chest, throwing your hands out blindly as you try to push past. “for- for wasting your-” you breathe in heavily, practically heaving, barely breathing.

“Y/N,” a voice says, and arms wrap around your biceps, holding you in place. “Y/N, deep breaths,” it says, and you look up to find Jake staring down at you, concern in his eyes.

You cease your struggling, let yourself sag against him, and he places his head on top of yours, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You est presses against his chest, a heartbeat thundering in your ears, much softer than what is happening in your own chest.

Suddenly, Neytiri fills your field of vision, placing a hand on the side of your face. Her voice fills your ear, and anchor back to the ground, and it takes you a moment to realize what she is saying.

“You have to breathe, Y/N. Breathe,” she urges, placing her hand over her chest and breathing in deeply, exaggerated, movements big, encouraging you to copy her.

With shaky movements, shaky breath, you manage one, then another, then another.

“What is wrong, Y/N?” she finally asks, and you screw your eyes shut, pushing away from Jake, embarrassed and foolish.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, face still damp with tears. “I- I should go,” you say, but Jake stops you with a pointed look. “It’s not your responsibility to help me.”

“We would not ask if we didn’t want to help you.” Jake replies, and perhaps it if selfish, but you have been bottling everything up.

You take a breath. “My father was a great warrior. My mother- when he died, she wanted someone to carry on his legacy. I have no siblings, so it was up to me.” You let out a dry laugh. “And you see- I am nothing with a bow. And I tell her, and she says I am just not trying hard enough. I am tired of living under her pressures, and I just- I couldn’t do it, not today.”

“You do not deserve to have the legacy of your father pushed on you, Y/N. I’m sorry, truly,” Jake says.

“When my father died,” Neytiri starts, cutting through the silence that had fallen. “My mother put not pressure on me. I put it all onto myself, because I carried his bow and promised to protect The People. I know what it is like for your back to break like that, Y/N. And you shouldn’t have to suffer.”

You look her up and down, and she does the same, her expression changing, tone softening, almost as if she has realized something new to you that has been there the entire time. Like she was seeing you in a different light.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and Jake softly smacked your shoulder.

“Atta girl,” he said, and it felt different this time.

—-

The next week was peaceful, with Jake and Neytiri off visiting another clan. You didn’t have to wake up as early, and slowly, the embarrassment at your breakdown faded.

They were so far away, taking your thoughts with them. You didn’t see your mother much, you made it your mission to get out of the tent as much as possible, stay away from her, lest you broke down in front of her. You couldn’t take that again, not so soon.

You felt like you were floating through life, praying to Eywa for some guidance, something to ground you to the earth.

In return, two people filled your mind. Your dreams, your waking moment. They filled you, and you thought about them constantly.

Washing your clothes, collecting food, something persistent: I miss them, I want them.

It was what your blood sung, what rested in your heart. As the days stretched on, your fondness only grew and grew, days blending until it was the day the arrived. You didn’t see them, but you knew they would come the next morning to train you.

(You dreamt about them.)

—-

Your morning routine was slightly less soul-crushing, you mused.

Regardless of the crush you realized you had on the two, you did genuinely want to see them. And, hopefully, they would want to see you too.

Something had connected you the day you broke down, giving the three of you a common denominator, peeling back some layers, new parts showing through.

Something had changed, and you knew it and yet didn’t know it.

You slung your bow over your shoulder, moving aside the flap of the tent, only to be met with blue. When you looked up, Jake was in front of you, smiling down sweetly.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, and you swear you saw him bite his tongue. His eyes turned to your bow next. “You won’t be needing that today.”

You backed up, so you didn’t have to crane your neck to look at him, before taking the bow into your hands suspiciously.

You noticed Neytiri then, when she spoke, appearing nearly out of nowhere. “Really,” she smiles, eyes trailing up and down. “You do not need it.”

Quickly, you rush back into your tent, throwing the bow to the ground and saying a silent thank-you to Eywa, coming back outside before the two could change their mind.

—-

“We still have to train you. We made a promise. But, we thought to give you a break, no?” you nod as Jake speaks, playing with the knife he had given you as the two lead you through the forest.

“A sturmbeest was here yesterday,” Neytiri says, ears perked up and tail swishing. Her bow is huge, the one of the late Olo’eykan. Orange and red, you think it is about as tall as a human. “The hunting party failed to capture it. But I am better than them,” she gloats, looking at you over her shoulder, almost to make sure you heard.

You smile, and she does as well, before putting a finger to her lips and turning back towards the forest. The only sounds you can hear are of faint footsteps, birds calling, the forest aching and moving as it wakes.

Neytiri leads the two of you into the forest, until she stops and beckons you over. When you stand next to her, close, the surrounding bush making it hard not to, you see what she is looking at. With you limited knowledge, even you know that is some sort of animal print.

Neytiri crouches low, touching the wide part of the footprint, easily embedded into the soft dirt below.

“The front of a sturmbeest’s foot is wider than the back. So… the sturmbeest is heading south.” You nod, trying to commit her words to memory.

You and Jake follow her silently, until the sound something moving surprises you. You turn around, only to find that it is Jake moving the gun from his back into his hands. You hadn’t even noticed it.

“Thanator territory,” he says, barely a whisper. But you hear him and nod, look out at the forest wearily. You haven’t seen a Thanator up close, only the dead body of a small one. But you have heard stories of them, know how big they can get.

Suddenly, Neytiri raises her hand, kneeling before a fallen tree trunk. The two of you come close to her, foliage providing cover, all squished together on the small log. Elbows stick out and touch, and you swear you could reach out and collect the tension in your hands.

“Got you,” Neytiri whispers, silently placing an arrow into her bow. Her form is impeccable , and she is unwavering, strong and beautiful and fueling your stupid crush my just existing.

She pulls her arm back, breathes out, and lets the arrow fly. It’s soars through the air, wind whistling, meeting its target and sinking into flesh before the sturmbeest can react.

The sturmbeest calls out and falls to the ground, Neytiri managing to hit that perfect place.

She is a force, you think, as she jumps over the log, knife in hand, kneeling before the sturmbeest and whispering to it. Thanking it for its sacrifice, thanking Eywa. Finally, she sinks her knife into that death spot, and the animal stops it’s squirming.

The forest is quiet for a moment, until Jake leans downs to get a closer look at the beast.

“Good job,” he says, and Neytiri seems unmoved by his compliment. She turns to you, slightly smug, bow in her hands.

“That is how you do it, hm?”

You laugh while Jake calls in the kill, pressing the black cord around his neck and speaking into it. He tells you they’ll stay until the human flying machine can come to you. He calls it something else, but the words are foreign on your tongue and make you feel odd.

Instead, you take to exploring, keeping the clearing in sight, fooling around and observing the flora and fauna of Pandora.

You fainting heard Jake and Neytiri talking, the regular movement of the forest, but that all faded as you heard loud footsteps. Hundreds of them, raining down like a violent storm, each footstep like the pitter-patter of rain. It was like you had angered Eywa, and she had come for her revenge.

You knew whatever was coming would tear through the bushes soon, forcing a path, creating at path. But you were frozen in fear, paralyzed of the sound, like thunder in the ground.

Suddenly, you were tugged to the side, behind a tree, pressed tight against someone. Instinctively, you pushed into them, fight or flight taking over, and whoever your savior was smelled like the forest, like home.

You screw your eyes shut, winding your arms around your savior’s neck, until the thunder stops, and the forest is still again.

“Are you okay?” when you look up, it is Jake who saved you.

—-

“Today,” Jake starts, leaning against a tree, “we thought you should try shooting with a different bow.”

“Really?” you muse. “A different bow is going to fix all of my problems?”

“Well- it’s not-” he stutters, and you feel a little mean.

“I was joking, Jake.” You crack a smile to soften the blow, but he still inwardly cringes and looks away.

You have noticed, ever since you cried in front of them, ever since the stampede where Jake had saved you, you noticed. The stuttering words, the odd looks, the way Neytiri smiled at you more and more with each day. A week had passed, and it only became more and more everyday. Overwhelming in the best way.

It confused you. Excited you. But you knew.

It was obvious they liked you- and you certainly had no qualms about it. Triads were uncommon among the people, but not unheard of. Accepted, most definitely. That was no problem to you. But it was the way they were so awkward.

You never imagined yourself being the one to make the first move, but you wanted them, even just for a night. If they were not going to do it, then you must.

—-

“You know, we’re practically best friends with all the time we spend together, yet we don’t really know anything about each other.”

Neytiri looks up at you from below you, crouched down, adjusting your stance by your hips.

“Why- why would you want to know us?”

“Because you’re my best friends, obviously.”

Jake laughs, shaking his head as sharpens his knife.

“No, I’m serious! My life is this: morning lessons with you two, breakfast, chores, and then I just try and avoid my mother until supper.”

Neytiri smiles, standing up after your hips are where she would like them to me, taking a step back to check her stance. But you have gotten used to this- her eyes go where they don’t have to, stay in places longer than they need too. It seems more like she’s admiring you. But she’s so subtle, you barely realize.

“That is lonely.” Neytiri is blunt, but you take no offense to it. You know how lonely it sounds, you know how lonely it is.

That’s why they are much more than your friends, something more, in between, they are your saviors. Not only literally, but figuratively. Without their lessons, their conversations, without them to dream about during the night and day- anytime, all the time- you would go crazy.

“Come over,” and the words are a fever dream, and you are fever dream, unreal, metaphysical.

“What?”

“Come over,” Jake repeats, and Neytiri is looking at the slope of your neck, prominent in your archery stance. “Tomorrow, dinner.”

Your heart is in your chest.

“If- if you want to.”

You smile, because he was doing so well, but it’s alright. It’s endearing, sweet.

“Yeah.”

Neytiri takes a step back. “Shoot.”

You do, and you miss, but you didn’t really. Not in the way it matters.

—-

The next day, nothing is out of the ordinary. The same lingering looks, the same feeling in your chest, until you are just about to leave.

“An hour before eclipse? I’m a good cook, promise.”

“Yes,” you say, losing the war, the war to them, that you never wanted to win anyways.

—-

You wonder if they even know what they do to you.

If they know how you feel, if they even know how they feel themself.

Do they know there are stars on their skin? A feeling in your heart, like an arrow has been shot into it? But it’s not painful, not like it sounds. It’s a beautiful feeling. A lovely feeling. It’s misleading like that, like them.

Your heart is aching and as you sit with them, roasted sturmbeest in your hands- the one Neytiri caught that day- the conversation is pleasant. Not want you what.

With each swallow, each bite past your lips, each awkward bate in talking it is like you are sitting at a table, licking your lips, empty poison bottle in your hands. But it tastes so good, and you wish you could share. But you won’t share. You can’t share. Not when it’s yours, only yours, and it should always stay like that.

Your feelings only grow at the dinner table, more certain that all you want them to do is eat you up, swallow you whole, but it’s no problem; you know you’ll be safe.

Jake hands you a wrapped up piece of dried sturmbeest, smiles and says to add some poison before you give it to your mother. Neytiri hits him, and it’s a cruel joke, but you find it in yourself to smile.

Like a feedback loop, with the rise of your feelings comes the doubt of theirs. Each soft smile, each “you can come over whenever you want,” only makes something slip into your mind. Until you realize.

“I just- I just wanted to say- I’m not something you need to pity.”

Jake smiles, looks taken aback. “Why would you think that?”

“Yes,” Neytiri says, smile fading from her face, confusion creeping into her voice.

“Listen,” you tuck your chin to your chest, you never should have said anything, “this was really nice, really fun? I like you two, but I’m- I’m not a toy for you to play with.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jake says. “You’re tired. Take the day off tomorrow-”

“No! What?” you huff, ignoring the butterflies on your stomach when he places a hand on your shoulder. You shove him off, but it hurts to do it. Hurts to be away from him, now that you’ve got one taste.

“My Jake-” Neytiri starts, but you are annoyed, frustrated that they won’t just make a move, frustrated that they probably don’t even see you that way.

“I’m not tired. I know what I am, what I want.” Your eyes flick between them as you say it, venom on your lips, poison bubbling up.

“What does that mean?” Neytiri asks, eyes narrowing, but you have dug your own grave and you cannot dove out now. Your only hope is to keep digging, find some other side.

“It means I know what I want. Unlike some people.”

“Unlike us?” Jake crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you saying, Y/N?”

“I’m saying it’s rude to lead people on. I’m saying it’s rude to make me think- only for me to be a pity case.”

His eyes darken, and he takes a step forward.

“Make you think what?”

“You know!” you shout, even though you don’t know if he does.

“Say it,” Neytiri whispers, fire in her eyes, coming closer to you, next to Jake now, past him. She is right in front of you, and so beautiful, and you have already drunk your poison.

“Don’t wanna talk.”

Then you crash your lips onto hers, because who cares if you life will be ruined? You want it just once, before you go crazy, because you can live without the touches, the looks, but you have to have a little taste just once.

Just as the novelty of the moment wears off, and it is simply you kissing Neytiri, Jake watching, and you feel small and stupid. Stupid for ever thinking any of this was what is was.

You pull away, cheeks hot, anger in your chest, poison in your throat, when Jake’s finger hook under your chin and tug your head up, and it is perfect and everything, and he tastes like the forest, like the joke you have always know, will only ever know.

You will only ever know this. The feel of their lips on yours.

When he pulls back, you are wide eyed and breathless, disbelieving. You feel like someone will come around the corner, point at you and laugh.

“We didn’t know-” he starts.

“I knew.”

Jake’s face falls, turning a little less worried, into a small smile.

“That obvious?”

“Painfully.”

“Y/N.” Her hands on yours are not foreign, but the tenderness in them is strange. You have known her touch before, but not like this. “We want to court you. Properly. We spoke, and we- we both want…you.”

And you are floating, gone from this world, so fucking overjoyed because it happened. What you have wanted for weeks, what you have know, what you have doubted.

You feel otherworldly, still out of breath, oxygen deprived. You would kiss them forever, die in them, but you couldn’t risk them getting hurt.

You feel like Eywa has given you something good, like your bad luck has ended- and you have never been more grateful than now.

Neytiri grabs your biceps, squeezes once, almost as if to say ‘yes, this is real’, before her hands come to your wrist. Wrap around, move you like a rag doll to hang around the back of your neck.

You can see Jake stand behind her, closer enough to touch his chest when you extend your fingers, just the fingertips, not enough, too much, overwhelming.

“I feel like there is poison in me,” you confess, high off the moment, off of them.

Neytiri places a kiss on the curve of your jaw.

“Let me kiss it out,” she whispers against your skin. “Let us.”

—-

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Of Monsters & Mistletoe

A/N: Yet another holiday fic? Already? Yes, because I am extra sappy this year and Steve deserves a smooch or two. Reader does celebrate Christmas in this and she and Steve both have shitty parents. It also makes mention of all events of seasons 1-4. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Steve Harrington/F!Reader

Rating: PG-A soft little thing

Word Count: 8.2k

Summary: The five times Steve almost kissed you beneath the mistletoe and the one time he finally did.

The first time Steve almost kissed you beneath the mistletoe, your family had just moved to Hawkins and had been invited to the holiday party at the country club. Just like his parents, yours were more interested in being seen than having an actual holiday-themed good time. You were dressed up in a stuffy red dress with fluffy white detailing and were told to sit still at a table near the back of the banquet hall with a steaming cup of hot chocolate as your only company.

Steve was seated a few tables away, his own hot chocolate long since drained. His parents were…somewhere. He could hear his mom’s laugh just barely over the Christmas music—she’d been practicing it in the mirror before leaving the house. His father was probably at her side, speaking with someone “important.”

“And you need to be on your best behavior, Steve,” he said, for the fourth time that night before the car door shut.

But ‘best behavior’ didn’t mean he couldn’t talk to the sad-looking girl, right? He could have friends, too. Steve hopped out of his designated seat and walked to your side. “Hi. I’m Steve.”

A small smile twitched at the corner of your mouth and you shyly gave him your name, too. You offered to split your hot chocolate with him and he learned that you were a grade below him, about to start school at Hawkins Elementary the next week. You were nice and kind and a little strange, Steve would admit, with your interests revolving around books and bugs, but you were nice. And it had been your idea to sneak away from your table to see the rest of the pretty decorations strung up around the country club. Your little hand curled around his as you darted around dancing couples and between schmoozing groups to look at the intricately decorated trees, the miniature porcelain towns, the light displays all over the sprawling building. It was beautiful. Really. But Steve just liked holding your hand. You were out of breath by the time you slowed to a stop near one of the exits, a bright smile on your face. “Everything is so pretty,” you said, still holding his hand.

“Yep,” Steve said with a smile of his own. He’d never had this much fun at one of these parties. “Do you want to help me build a snow fort tomor-”

Someone behind you cooed and you both turned to see his father’s secretary looking at you, pointing at something above your heads. You looked up and saw a small sprig of…something. Green leaves with tiny berries tied up in a red ribbon. “It is mistletoe, little man,” the woman said, hands on her hips.

Steve felt the blood drain from his face at the realization. Mistletoe. He knew what was supposed to happen but you were his friend. His first friend he made in a long time. And friends don’t kiss each other.

“You have to do it!” She prodded with another coo.

Following directions was something pressed onto Steve from his parents since day one. Telling him to do as he was told (and to be seen not heard) came out of their mouths more often than “I love you.” So, Steve frowned but leaned forward, intent on pressing his lips to yours when your hand came up to his face and you none-too-gently pushed him back. “Germs. You have germs.”

**

The second time Steve almost kissed you beneath the mistletoe came a few years later. Steve was on the cusp of entering high school and you were still more interested in books than most everything else, aside from the archery hobby you picked up at your father’s insistence. (Thankfully, your fascination with bugs and fear of germs had subsided.) And, despite both sets of parents’ hopes, you two didn’t exactly run in the same social circles at school. He had settled into the sporty, popular crowd. And you? Well…you had one friend: Jonathan Byers. The resident weird kid who was “lightyears away” from your family’s position, according to the whispers Steve heard between the Harringtons and your parents. And Steve tried to understand why he didn’t like Jonathan. He saw you smile and laugh with the Byers kid more than you ever did at these ridiculous country club “parties.” You were still kind to Steve, though. In your own strange way. And it really shouldn’t matter,

right

? It wasn’t like you were actually friends. More like you were each other’s only confidante in these circumstances, the only kids in your age range.

Sure. That was it.

You weaved through the crowd with your chin tucked to your chest (expertly dodging an underpaid assistant dressed as an elf who had a bit of mistletoe tied to a long pole that he’d dangle over people regardless of marital status) with two cups of hot chocolate in your hands, topped with an excessive amount of whipped cream and sprinkles. Steve took the proffered cup as you slid into the chair beside him and resumed your game of people watching from the sidelines.

“That woman,” you whispered from behind your hot chocolate, pointing a mostly inconspicuous finger at a woman with an outrageously tasseled sweater near the pyramid of champagne, “is apparently sleeping with one of the bigshot’s at her husband’s firm.”

“Does the husband know?” Steve asked, hiding a smile of his own.

“Yes. But he won’t say anything because he’s apparently getting a large raise to let it keep happening.” You took a large sip of your hot chocolate, earning a smear of whipped cream on the end of your nose. You tried to lick it away without success and Steve eventually tossed a bright red napkin at your face with a laugh as you continued to fill him in on the gossip you had overheard. There were, unsurprisingly, a large amount of affairs. Someone was probably (definitely) stealing from their boss. And someone else was caught doing coke at their office after Thanksgiving.

“How do you know all this?” Steve asked.

You shrugged. “Um, my parents are always telling me to keep my mouth shut and my head down. Maybe people think that since I’m not talking, I’m not listening.”

He winced. The old “be seen and not heard” song and dance was his father’s favorite, too. But while Steve still wanted to at least gain his parents’ attention, you seemed to revel in being forgotten most days. It looked…freeing. At least from the outside looking in.

“Aren’t you two adorable?” The sudden question had both you and Steve looking up from the table to see the assistant standing near the edge, a broad smile on his face. “Childhood sweethearts? How cute!” Then, without waiting for an answer, swung the mistletoe toward you, dangling it over your heads.

Dread immediately washed over Steve as he looked at the little berries and green leaves. Did you want to kiss him? Plenty of other girls as school did—and he usually took them up on the offer. But this was you. And this was the Christmas party. If his parents caught him making a scene-

“We’re just friends, actually,” you answered with a smile.

The elf-assistant did have the tact to blush and mutter an apology before trudging away, promptly swinging the mistletoe between another pair who quickly kissed. The crowd around them cheered, tipsy on eggnog and champagne.

“That was creepy,” you muttered. Your fingers trailed around and around on the edge of your mug of hot chocolate.

“You said we were friends.” The words were out of Steve’s mouth before he could stop them. Before he could understand what he was trying to say. Were you friends? Did you think of him as a friend?

But you just smiled and finished off your hot chocolate before speaking again. “It’s okay, Steve. I know I’m only your friend at these parties.”

Steve felt his face fall as he watched you smile and shake your head. Would that be so bad? To be friends with the weird girl? But, just as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, you were standing and walking away toward the door where your parents were waiting.

He watched you go, a little helplessly, and tried to smile at you as you glanced back at him, pulling your thick coat on. It didn’t work.

**

The third time Steve nearly kissed you under the mistletoe came years later. It had taken a monster from a different dimension nearly killing him and getting his face nearly caved in by Jonathan Byers for Steve to truly see you as a friend. You were funny and smart and brave. And you cared so much for other people. Steve had caught you sobbing in the hallway after helping Jonathan put up posters for Will and you had stood in front of Steve, armed with just your bow, and had earned yourself nearly thirty stitches and a scolding from your mother when she’d picked you up from the hospital for ruining the designer sweatshirt you had been wearing. Both Joyce and Hopper had looked furious but you’d waved them off as you let your mother lead the way out of the hospital.

“I’ll see you at school on Monday,”

you murmured with a lackadaisical smile as you passed him.

“Might want to put a bit of ice on that shiner, though.”

Yeah, you were his friend. He didn’t even mind the whispers that came when he would talk to you in the hallways. (The rumors he’d heard about your injuries ranged from plausible to ridiculous and he tried to shield you from them as much as possible.) He should have been hanging out with you this entire time. Steve had never felt so at ease with Tommy H. or Carol or any of the other bullshit hangers-on he’d been surrounded with for years. You were just…you. And Steve liked you. When you’d excitedly hugged him after he told you he passed the economics exam you’d helped him study for, it felt like his entire chest fluttered. So, when you invited him to a Christmas party at your house, muttering something about your mom not trusting your dad around a certain waitress at the country club, he leapt at it. His parents were probably already invited, too, and he didn’t want to leave you alone to face that monotony.

He and his parents arrived “fashionably late” to your parents’ large house. Everything was perfectly in its place; from the oversized and ornately decorated tree to the lighted garland wrapped around the carved banisters and railings. People were muttering about how much the decorations and food must’ve cost behind their cups of mulled wine as they waited their turn to speak to your parents. A string octet was set up near the stairs, filling the entire house with subdued versions of popular Christmas songs.

But Steve wasn’t here for that. He was here for you. Your movements were still a bit stilted, favoring your right side even though your stitches came out yesterday. The Santa hat on your head was crooked, too, but you didn’t seem to mind as you sucked on the curve of a candy cane. And why did his stomach twist at the sight of it?

After seeing that his parents were already preoccupied, Steve slipped through the crowd and to your side, snagging a candy cane of his own on the way. You smiled around the sweet treat as you spotted him, patting the bar stool at your side. He took it with a smile, fumbling with the candy cane’s plastic wrap for a moment before you grabbed it and deftly unwrapped it before handing it over. “Thanks for coming. People watching isn’t as fun without my usual partner in crime.” The smile you gave him made it impossible to not reciprocate.

“Yeah, yeah, anytime,” he said even though he’d missed the last handful of Christmas parties. Now Steve wished he hadn’t come up with a flimsy excuse to get out of them.

You settled onto the stool beside you before swiveling around to look out at the large crowd milling about your house. The conversation quickly fell back into your old habits of people watching and you regaling him about the gossip you’d learned as the adults around you steadily got drunker and drunker on the expensive wine your parents had brought in by the case. Steve added a few things here and there that he had overheard, too. But, eventually, with the taste of spiked eggnog on your tongues, you asked about classes and told him about yours, too. You shook your head when Steve asked about the book you were writing for your creative writing class and tried to hide your smile behind your cup. “It is so nerdy. You’d hate me.”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

The answering smile you gave him was near blinding and Steve wanted to make you smile like that again. All the time. Even if he didn’t really understand the “lore” (as you called it) of your story and didn’t really understand the appeal of elves and monsters and dragons, he liked your smile. Even if it did twist at something in his chest. The strange sensation he’d felt the night he saw you and Nancy with Jonathan returned like a sledgehammer to his ribs when you mentioned you’d be spending the holidays with the Byers family since your parents were taking a cruise to “work through things.” You didn’t believe it.

“You and Nancy are spending Christmas Eve together, right?” You asked as you finished. You’d snuck him another cup of eggnog and then pulled your Santa hat off to plop it right onto his hair. For a moment, he could smell your rose and mint perfume and he wondered if you wore it all the time. Not that it mattered, right?

“Yeah, her parents do a big dinner that night.”

“Nervous?” You asked with a quirked brow. “Quite a time to make a first impression, yeah?”

“Why would I be nervous?” Steve asked with a scoff. “Parents love me.”

And you laughed. Laughed and patted his knee. “Sure they do.”

Before he could ask what the hell you meant, his dad was saying his name. The prominent red across his face let Steve know that his father was either drunk or angry. Or both. His mother was at his side and they both said a few words to your parents before leaving with broad, fake smiles. Great. Just great. That was never a good sign.

You slipped off your barstool with a grimace. “I’ll walk you out. C’mon.” You led him to the door, weaving between people with ease and slowed to a stop beside the door. “Get home safe, okay?”

No one had told him that before. And wasn’t that just pathetic? “Of course-”

“Pucker up, kiddos!”

In a twisted sense of Deja vu, Steve looked up to see the sprig of mistletoe above the doorway. There was a small crowd near the door, and everyone’s drunken gazes were focused on the pair of you. He heart leapt as he looked at you, seeing the Christmas lights wash you in their gentle glow. He could kiss you right now and try to see what those twists and flutters in his chest were trying to tell him.

He could.

But he didn’t. He was a lot of things but he wasn’t his father. There was an apology on the tip of his tongue, for embarrassing you in front of all these people, for not kissing you, for-

But you beat him to it. Feeling the eyes on you, you hooked your thumb under Steve’s chin and gently pushed his head to the side. You made a show of pressing a loud peck to his cheek before stepping away from his side as a few of the more intoxicated partygoers booed in your direction.

“Merry Christmas, Steve.”

**

Maybe winding up under the mistletoe with you was just a strange yearly tradition. At least that was what Steve told himself the fourth time he nearly kissed you. It would be a better tradition than the return of the demogorgons and the Upside Down.

This year had…sucked. His parents had continued their usual disinterest but now it was coupled by grating disapproval, too. His prospects of getting into a good university were dwindling by the week despite your best efforts to help him raise his grades, and Nancy had basically left him for Jonathan. But he had you.

Right?

That’s what he told himself when he had been invited to Tina’s Christmas party. He could go with you instead of feeling like a complete loser. You accepted his invitation with an unsure smile, not entirely comfortable with that crowd, but Steve had tried to soothe your worries with a promise to not leave your side. It was the same promise you had given him before you and the kids had jumped down into the tunnels to set “the hub” on fire to help Eleven.

“I am not letting them do this on their own, Steve. And I won’t leave you behind. I promise.”

Despite the absolute beating Billy had bestowed on him, Steve had followed you in. You’d been hurt, too, caught up in the slaughter at the Lab, trying to keep Mike and Joyce safe. But you hadn’t stopped. Steve found himself realizing you never did. You were often the first to arrive and the last to leave whenever anyone needed help with something. He’d found himself parking next to your car, more often than not, whenever the kids needed a ride home from the arcade or the Wheeler’s house. You hadn’t batted an eye when Steve rang your house at some god-awful hour to ask you to come over after he saw how happy Nancy was with Jonathan; you had arrived at his house with a thermos filled with hot chocolate and a sleepy smile. You’d listened to Steve pour his heart out and you reciprocated, telling him how you had felt a little betrayed that Jonathan had gone to Nancy instead of you when they had wanted to bring down the lab.

“But they’re happy, right?” you asked, licking at the remnants of cocoa on your lip. “We just want them to be happy. Even if it isn’t with us.”

You were always there. Ready to listen. Ready to try and make him smile. Just there. Always.

The party was in full swing by the time Steve parked his Beamer on Tina’s lawn beside the dozen other haphazardly parked cars. You slowly got out of the passenger side and gave him a thin smile and Steve was quick to smooth his hands down your arms to squeeze at your mitten-covered fingers. “We can leave right now. I don’t mind.”

But you shook your head. “You wanted to go and…and it’s about time I actually start going to parties, right? Maybe I’ll have fun.”

“If you’re not having fun in fifteen minutes, I’m getting you out of here and we can go to the movies or something.”

Your mouth twisted to the side and you ducked your head to look at the snow beneath your boots. “Can we go look at Christmas lights instead?”

And Steve just about melted. “Yeah, sweetheart. We can look at Christmas lights.”

You nodded and he watched a bit of tension fall from your shoulders before he led you into the party. Spinal Tap’s ridiculous Christmas song was playing over busted speakers but hardly anyone cared, already a few cups deep into the trashcan drink that Tina had sworn tasted like candy canes. You winced as you took a drink and Steve quickly switched it out for a can of Pepsi he snagged from the fridge.

You were content to sit in the kitchen and sip on your pop while Steve was called from one end of the house to the other by one acquaintance and then another. But every time he turned to make sure you were still okay, you smiled at him. Maybe it was the Christmas lights Tina had strung up across every wall. Maybe it was the snow starting to fall just outside. Maybe it was the second cup of that candy cane drink.

But you were beautiful.

Fuck. But this was fine, right? Friends could find one another attractive and still be friends. Before he could stop himself or realize what he was doing, Steve was walking toward you, discarding his drink on the nearest flat surface. “Wanna get out of here?”

Your nose scrunched as you looked down at the watch on your wrist. “You still have seven minutes of your allotted fifteen.”

Of course you would know that. Of course you were keeping track. “Doesn’t matter. I think I promised you Christmas lights.” He stole the can of pop from your hand and set it down before curling his arm around your shoulders after righting your evergreen scarf over your neck. Your laugh had his heart clawing its way up his throat but his stomach gave an answering drop as soon as you reached the door and someone behind him yelled for him to stop. Steve turned, hauling you with him, and saw Tommy H. pointing at something above your heads.

Mistletoe.

“Let’s see if Harrington still has any sway with the ladies!” He sneered. The crowd around him cheered. He wanted to humiliate Steve. “C’mon, Stevie-boy! Can’t you even get into the nerd’s pants?”

You tensed. Steve felt the muscles of your back and shoulders coil like a snake waiting to strike. “What’s your problem, Tommy?” You bit out. “Did Carol cuck you again so you need to take it out on someone else to feel like a ‘man’ again? Or did you finish too early—again—and she kicked you out of bed?”

The crowd around them cheered, again, too drunk to truly pick a side.

“That isn’t true-”

“Are you sure? Because I’ve heard about your lackluster skills too many times.” The red lights from Tina’s tree were bleeding across your face, making you look like some vengeful warrior. “I wonder why she puts up with you; it surely isn’t your looks or your limp dick.” Tommy’s face was an impressive shade of red and he opened his mouth to say something else but now you were the one pulling Steve outside, bypassing the mistletoe entirely with a firm hand in his. “C’mon. I hear the lights in Loch Nora are really good this year.”

He could have kissed you. Maybe he should have. But he didn’t.

**

“I swear to god, Steve. If you don’t actually do something-”

“Shut up, Robin!”

It had been two years (again) since Steve had been beneath a bit of mistletoe with you. Two years of confusing feelings and nearly dying. Two years of more monsters from the Upside Down and lingering looks that Steve hoped meant what he thought they did. Two years of changes and moving forward.

The biggest change, in a weird way, for Steve was that you had moved out of state to start university, rooming with Robin. Sure, there’d been the “mall fire” and the “earthquakes” but you leaving had been…different. It wasn’t Hawkins anymore if you weren’t in it.

But for right now, you were here. He spotted you across the large room as Joyce whispered something in your ear that had you giggling before Will tugged on your hand. Your bridesmaid dress was made of silky dark green fabric and you looked…beautiful. Of course, Joyce looked nice in her simple white dress with snowflake lace at her wrists, but Steve couldn’t stop looking at you. Joyce and Hopper had (finally) pulled the trigger and got married, waiting until all the kids were back in town for the holidays so everyone could attend the celebration with a few dozen other guests. It was a perfect little party and it had been so good to see everyone. The small venue was filled with Christmas trees and an overabundance of tinsel and extra lights stung up across the ceiling. (There was a few sprigs of mistletoe, too, but Steve was definitely not staring at those.) Christmas music was interspersed with cheesy love songs from decades past and snow was slowly falling outside. It was a perfect late December evening. You were dancing to The Ramones’ strange Christmas song, mostly jumping around with Jonathan and Will with an infectious smile on your face.

“Dude. Staring.”

Steve’s entire face felt hot and he turned away to face Eddie with a frown. “I’m not staring at her.”

And Eddie smirked. The faint scarring stretching across his cheek puckered the slightest bit. “I never said anything about her.” He then turned to look at you, too, watching as you let El tug you into another dance so you could messily dance with the kids, laughter on your tongue. “She does look good, by the way.”

“I know she does,” Steve grumbled. You had been self-conscious about the thin shoulder straps and cut of the dress and had fretted all morning after helping Joyce get ready, saying that your scars were too visible. And yes, he could see them. He could see the jagged thing twisting down your arm from the Soviet guard’s best attempt to break you in the underground base. (You hadn’t broken, but Steve’s heart nearly did when you screamed for him.) He could see the small scar on your knee from where you’d fallen off Max’s skateboard, an unofficial end to your skateboard lessons with the younger girl. You’d traded archery lessons with her, but Max had taken to archery as well as you had to skateboarding—but Steve knew that your steady presence in Max’s life had been a comfort to the redhead, even if she was slow to admit it to anyone aside from you. You’d bailed on the country club’s party last year to spend it with her since Susan needed to work a double.

“So, since you’re definitely not staring at her, would you mind if I danced with her?”

The grip Steve had on his cup of eggnog almost hurt before he pushed out a slow breath. “Yeah, man. Go for it. She loves to dance.”

Eddie groaned. “That is not what you were supposed to say!”

The outburst drew your attention, even over Wham’s Last Christmas starting to boom over the speakers Jonathan had set up. Your brows furrowed as you looked at both of them before Steve waved you on and El grabbed at your hands again, pulling you back into the dance. “Shut up, man. Jesus.”

Eddie clapped him on the shoulder. “Remember what I told you in the Upside Down? She saw you about to jump into the lake and did it first because she didn’t want you hurt. She is it for you, Harrington. Just like you are it for her. Would you have let anyone else take you to the eye doctor?” Eddie didn’t wait for an answer and bulldozed right on. “Would you have listened to anyone else if they’d suggested community college to get out of this shitty town?” Eddie dropped his voice the slightest bit, a low drawl in his ear. “Would you look at anyone else like you’re looking at her right now?”

The party all knew. The older kids did, too. They all knew that Steve was probably in love with you.

Possibly.

Definitely.

At least they were encouraging, in their strange, sometimes mean way.

He watched you jump and laugh with Lucas and Max as the song changed to Mellencamp’s version of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,” as Mike and Dustin pretended to score your dancing. It was zeroes across the board. But you still laughed and raised your hands over your head as you spun again, letting the scar that started on your back and bloomed above your chest truly be seen. Steve’s gut twisted at the sight of it. It wasn’t ugly. No part of you could ever be ugly. But the memory it brought was still fresh. You’d stayed with Lucas, Erica, and Max as the Creel House while the others went back into the Upside Down to kill Vecna. The plan had gone…about as well as any of the other plans regarding the Upside Down had gone (not well). But when Steve and Dustin were dragging a barely conscious Eddie back through the gate, you had been fending of Jason and scream-singing Kate Bush to Max after her Walkman was destroyed. It had worked—Max woke up after breaking one of her knees and an arm, but she was awake. You’d earned a bullet to your back from Jason Carver who thought you were part of the “Satanic cult” he was sure was residing in Hawkins. But you had survived. Jason was blamed for the murders after you spun quite the tale from your hospital bed. His insistence that there was something supernatural at play definitely didn’t help him, but the town was saved from a trial and Eddie was cleared, walking out of the hospital a free man. Vecna was killed from the inside out by El, aided by Nancy’s sharp shooting. It was over.

And Steve would never forget watching Lucas and Erica drag you out of the house and into the camper, covered in blood and near delirious.

“Stay with me, sweetheart. Okay? You gotta stay with me.”

He had nearly lost you.

“Yeah,” Eddie continued, taking Steve’s silence for an answer. “That’s what I thought.” He clapped him on the shoulder with a long sigh. “Just give it a shot, Harrington. It’s the holidays. We’re at a wedding. Everything about this screams romance.” Before he could say anything else, Eddie was called away by Will and Erica, waving him over to a table across the room.

The song finished and you gave a clumsy curtsey to the “judges” as Max booed the final results. You pressed the back of your hands to your cheeks, trying to cool yourself down as you turned away, your eyes immediately finding Steve. A smile bloomed across your face and Steve’s poor heart shot up to his throat. He took a giant gulp of his eggnog and nearly choked on it immediately. As luck would have it, you were at his side as he started to cough and patted his back with a soft laugh. “Had too much already?”

Steve wiped at his mouth with a wince but felt himself relax as you reached out to right his gold-rimmed glasses again. “Thank you.”

You hummed and leaned against him with another smile. “I’m really happy for them,” you said, looking as Hopper led Joyce out onto the dance floor.

Dean Martin was starting to croon about his love keeping him warm and Eddie’s words (along with Robin’s) were suddenly echoing in his head. “Wanna dance?”

And you beamed. “I’d love that.” You tangled your hands together and let Steve lead you out onto the floor after he dropped his glass onto the nearest table. Steve twirled you around twice, just to hear you laugh, and you hopefully missed how both Joyce and Hopper gave him a thumbs up when they spotted him. You spoke with him easily, telling him about your classes and professors, and Steve reciprocated with stories about his first few classes at Hawkins Community College between shifts at Family Video. You both commiserated over trying to avoid your parents for most of the holiday and he made you laugh when he suggested cracking open a gate as a “distraction.”

“I’ve missed that sound,” Steve murmured, hoping you didn’t notice how his hand was starting to sweat as he held yours.

“My laugh?” You looked at him, Christmas lights reflecting in your pretty eyes. “You hear it at least twice every week when I call.”

And Steve treasured those calls. Made sure his shifts and classes lined up so he could always be near the phone when you rang. “But it sounds better in person.”

You shook your head with another smile. “What am I going to do with you, Steve Harrington?”

“Keep me forever?” Steve winced. Stupid. So stupid.

“You’re stuck with me forever, Steve. Hate to break it to you.” And you said it with such simple honesty, making it sound like of course you would always be in his life, that Steve had to stop himself from pulling you closer, from wrapping his arms around you tight and spilling his ridiculous feelings in a jumble of words that would never make sense.

Instead, he just smiled and shook his head. “What a burden.”

“Aren’t I just the worst? How do you put up with me?” You teased, adding a wink.

“I dunno, you might have a few redeeming qualities.”

“Oh?” You hummed. He twirled you around again just to hear you giggle, your smile infectious as he pulled you close. “And what might those be?”

This was it. This was an opening. And, judging by the way Nancy and Robin were frantically pointing at the mistletoe you’d just stepped beneath, this was the moment. Right? “Well, you’re stubborn. Like, the most stubborn person I know.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a list of my good qualities.” You snickered and earned a quick poke to your side because he knew you’d jump and squeal.

“And being stubborn,” Steve continued, ignoring you, “means you are one of the most loyal people I’ve ever met. Loyal and stubborn to the point of getting yourself hurt. And you are kind, one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” Your steps started to slow as you listened to Steve, eyes shining. “And you’re so smart. I could have never been able to come up with a story like the one you gave the cops to keep Eddie out of jail—especially not if I was high on, like, six different pain killers.” He pulled you a little closer as he pushed on, even as other couples danced around you. Steve took both your hands in his and curled them close to his chest, hoping you wouldn’t feel how hard his heart was pounding beneath his ribs. “Just, you know, overall, you are a good person. You give good hugs and you’re so patient with the kids, with me. And I’m pretty sure your smile could light up a damn Christmas tree.”

You sniffled, blinking rapidly to stop the tears Steve saw starting to line your lashes and you laughed, again. “Wow, tell me how you really feel.” Your fingers drummed against his scarlet silk tie as your mouth twisted to the side, a sign Steve knew meant you were trying not to cry. “We’d be here for ages if I listed off all the good things about you, you know.”

Glancing up, you spotted the mistletoe, too. “How many times have we been caught beneath mistletoe? Five?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Something like that.” Slowly, hands steadier than his heart, his fingers smoothed down your arms and up to cradle your head in his grasp. He could do it. He could smell the peppermint on your breath. He could see the bits of glitter Nancy had dabbed on your cheeks. You were so beautiful. He whispered your name and-

Jonathan shouted your name and you all but leapt out of Steve’s grasp with an embarrassed huff. You both turned and saw Jonathan frantically trying to mop up spilled red wine that had started to pool near the dessert table. You were quick to dart away, grabbing a handful of napkins to help. And Steve could just stand there, wondering what he must have done in a past life to have this happen. Five times.

Jonathan caught his eye over your shoulder and mouthed ‘sorry’ but the look Nancy was giving the other man let Steve know that she was more than ready to throttle him.

**

It had been years since the last time Steve caught you beneath the mistletoe. He’d given up hope on ever doing it again, on ever kissing you

at all

. The kids had all but given up, too. Their teasing slowly dying because… “It isn’t fun anymore,” Max said through a mouthful of popcorn. “Now, it’s just pathetic.”

He wasn’t ever taking her to the movies again. (He knew this was a lie.)

But as the years trickled by, you had remained a presence in his life. You arrived on his doorstep one day and all but shoved him into your car, saying you’d called off work for him for a week, and that you were kidnapping him for spring break. You had screamed and clapped and cried together as you watched ‘your’ kids cross the stage for their high school graduation. He sat next to Joyce and Jonathan and Will and watched you graduate from university, too, and didn’t mind waiting his turn to murmur his congratulations into your ear as he held you close.

You’d attended his graduation, too, two years later. After getting everything he could at Hawkins Community, he transferred to a bigger university to finish his degree just outside Chicago. You had hollered like a soccer mom when they announced his name and Steve had nearly tripped when you broke out an air-horn in celebration.

His parents hadn’t attended. But that didn’t matter because you did—and Robin and the kids were right beside you, being equally obnoxious. He’d found his path. It took him a few hits to the head and a weird, zig-zagging track, but he’d settled on elementary education. If he could handle the snark and the vibrating chaos that was the group of his favorite people, he could handle kids. Being a kindergarten teacher wasn’t flashy or well-paid but Steve liked it. He liked what he did. He liked helping kids learn the alphabet and spell their names and count to ten. And he was good at it. Within the first two years of settling into his new career at a school in the suburbs of Chicago, he’d been named teacher of the year out of the entire district.

The kids had found the newspaper clipping and had framed it for him for his birthday. (He cried.)

You had settled into a routine, too. Your book, a not-at-all autobiographical science fiction horror story about monsters from another dimension and a group of tenacious kids, had become an international bestseller and you, despite living in New York, swung by his house with a bottle champagne to celebrate. The book had earned you a seven-book deal with a huge publisher and an “insane” royalties cut. “I want Will to illustrate all of them,” you had said, lounging on Steve’s couch. “I think that’s what made this one a best-seller, you know. He’s so talented, my baby Will.”

Every year, everyone got together for a weekend around the holidays. It had become a tradition by accident but everyone had come to expect it to happen and there was usually a bit of bickering about who got to host. It was Steve’s turn this year and with every ornament he hung on his tree, hope returned. By the time he was putting the little star at the top, Steve swore that this year—this year, really, he meant it this time—would be the year he finally made a move. He wouldn’t get interrupted. He would tell you how he felt and maybe (hopefully) be able to kiss you under the mistletoe.

Dustin arrived first, fresh off (another) breakup with Suzie and ranting about his physics final at MIT, he froze like a deer in headlights when he saw all of the decorations. There was the tree, of course, and then stockings for each of them on the mantle. There were fake candles flickering in each of the windows and Steve had strung up plastic snowflakes around each of the overhead lights. “Jesus Christ, it looks like Christmas threw up in here.”

“Thank you, Dustin,” Steve hissed. “This didn’t take me hours at all.”

The younger man waved his hands. “I didn’t say it was bad! It’s just… Did your students make these ornaments?” He poked at one of the messily but earnestly made reindeer on the tree’s nearest branch.

Steve swiftly smacked at Dustin’s fingers, earning a smack on his arm in return. “Don’t touch them! They worked hard!” His students had each made an extra ornament for him during craft time and had bashfully given him the gift before winter break had started, having heard Steve talk about his friends coming into town for the holiday.

“They’re cute!”

The door burst open and Max and Lucas shoved their way in, swinging their bags around as they argued about the practicality of the Home Alone booby traps. “Watch the tree!” Steve hollered as Max’s bag nearly took out his lamp.

Ignoring him, Max turned, dropping her duffle at her feet. “You’ve been hit in the head enough, right? You think a paint can would knock you out?”

“Of course it would knock Steve out!” Lucas argued.

“Thank you for that, Sinclair. And, just for that, you’re sleeping on the couch! El can share with Max.”

By the time the Wheelers and the Byers-Hoppers show up, pizza had been ordered and the house was filled with good-natured (mostly) arguing while Gremlins played in the background. The sound of car doors slamming had Steve’s head snapping to the side so fast Lucas laughed at him until Nancy threw a pillow in his direction.

“Calm down, man. She’s here for the whole weekend.”

The door opened again and Eddie led the charge inside, Robin quickly following, with you picking up the rear. All three of you were arguing over if it was hygienic or not to string popcorn as garland for the tree. Steve managed to greet all of you between your squabble, wrapping each of you in a hug, and herding you toward the living room. But, just as you were about to cross the threshold, you hung back and grasped at his wrist with a familiar smile. Without a word, you pulled him close and hugged him again.

“It is so good to see you, Steve.”

His poor heart felt like it was trying to leap out from between his ribs and nestle in your hands.

As the night wore on and Gremlins turned into Home Alone which turned into Black Christmas, the pizza was eventually demolished, as was the gingerbread. The younger kids eventually turned in, tired from the trip and bellies full. His house was big enough to accommodate everyone, but sleeping bags were still needed and straws were drawn as to who had to sleep on the floor for the night. It was ridiculous and only started more fights and Steve wouldn’t have it any other way.

Steve took a seat beside Jonathan as they all nursed the last dregs of the Hot Toddies Nancy had made for the older crowd. Eddie was finishing up his story about opening for Metallica—“you should come, guys! I’ll get you tickets!”—as Robin, you, and Nancy all disappeared upstairs to get into your pajamas. As soon as they heard the door click shut, both Eddie and Jonathan rounded on Steve. “What is your game plan?”

“What?”

“You have to do it. C’mon, man. This is the year. I can’t take another Christmas of her sighing wistfully and you looking like a kicked puppy. I can’t do it.” Eddie always had a flare for the dramatic. The years hadn’t dulled his edge.

“She was talking about this trip nonstop the last time she called,” Jonathan added. “And Eddie said she asked-”

“Three times!” Eddie hissed.

“-if you had a girlfriend on the way over from the airport.”

And while that had been encouraging, Nancy and Robin had cornered him, too, while you were distracted by Jonathan and Eddie, talking about possibly going taking everyone ice skating tomorrow (it was a disaster waiting to happen and all of you knew it). You caught Steve looking and smiled, bright and beautiful.

Robin snapped her fingers, grabbing Steve’s attention. “Listen, Dingus, I am going to break out the dry erase board again if you don’t kiss her by the end of this weekend. With how much you’ve been staring at her mouth, I wouldn’t be surprised you already know what chapstick she’s wearing.”

“It’s cherry, today.”

Nancy smacked his arm, fighting a smile. “You are hopeless. Both of you. Please just tell her how you feel. We can distract the kids for a few hours tomorrow and you need to just tell her, god dammit.”

Comforting.

Steve thought about what his friends had said, turning their words over and over in his head, wishing for sleep and a good plan on how to tell you how he felt. But, hours later, he gave up on both and quietly stepped out of his room, trying not to wake Eddie and Dustin, and walked down toward his kitchen in hopes of getting a glass of water. And there you were, swinging your legs as you sat on the counter, humming along to Dolly Parton singing about hard candies at Christmas on the radio. The slowly blinking lights of the Christmas tree washed you in green then red then green again, making you glow.

“Hey,” Steve whispered.

Your head whipped to the side and you let out a soft laugh as you pressed a hand over your heart before hopping down. “Sorry, you scared me a bit.”

He waved off your unnecessary apology and cracked open the fridge to grab two bottles of cider before handing you one. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shook your head as you twisted the cap off and took a small sip. “Yeah. Robin kicks in her sleep, you know.”

Steve laughed and took a drink, too. “I do know.” As always, the conversation was easy, speaking about anything and everything, and Steve was happy to hear you ramble about your ideas for your next books even though he was still learning the difference between an Orc and a Lich but he knew you’d be patient with him.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmured, reaching out to him as soon as Judy Garland started singing, wishing everyone a Merry Little Christmas. “I know we talk every week but I just miss…” your words trailed off as your hands curled around his arms. “I just miss you.”

Steve moved just enough to wrap his arms around you, resting his cheek against yours. “I missed you, too.” Then, knowing you’d laugh, he started swaying you side to side in time with the song and earned his promised laugh within a few moments and made him smile into your hair.

The winter winds were whistling outside with the promise of snow and you snuggled a little closer, nose digging into Steve’s chest but he didn’t mind. This felt right. This felt…perfect. He wanted this, quiet, perfect moments like this with you forever. He didn’t want to wait anymore.

“So, I’m looking at houses in Chicago,” you murmured into the soft fabric of his red and white sleep shirt. “My publisher says I don’t have to live in New York if I don’t want to.”

If you heard how his heart sped up, you thankfully didn’t mention it. “Chicago, huh? You’d just be a quick train ride away from me.” And he could feel your smile as it pressed over his heart.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that. Eddie’s got his thing going on in LA, Robin’s finishing up her PhD at Northwestern, and Nancy and Jonathan live out of their suitcases mostly because of their jobs so they can be anywhere. The kids are scattered, but…but, yeah, I’m thinking Chicago.”

“Well,” Steve started, attempting to keep his voice steady, “I think that’s the best present you could give me.”

You laughed against his chest again and wriggled out of his grip for a moment before grabbing at something on the counter. You pressed it over his heart and he tried not to hope at the sight of your nervous smile. “I actually got you a little something. I know it isn’t quite Christmas yet but…I didn’t want to wait.”

The small package was wrapped in crinkled white paper, patterned with gold snowflakes. You’d carefully wrapped a bit of silver string around it, too. Steve was careful to unwrap it as you kept your arms looped around his waist. He could feel your thumbs brushing nervous circles into his spine. When he finally saw what was inside, his heart leapt and skipped and sang.

Wrapped in a tiny bit of white twine, was a single sprig of mistletoe.

“I was…hoping that sixth time might be our charm.” Your voice was low and soft. Almost shy.

Feeling like the luckiest man on the planet, he held the mistletoe over your head and finally, finally, finally kissed you. You were worth the wait.

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

[lisannastraussisanangel]

Erlu Brotp Headcanons

Now that Lucy uses Star Dress, they train together a lot more. Erza's never had someone who can requip like her to train with and they both absolutely love it

Lucy was very scared the first time they sparred cause Erza is not known to pull punches, but she actually was able to keep up pretty well

The most terrifying moment of Natsu's life was busting in on them practicing archery and getting arrows pointed at him from the two women he fears most

Lucy is one of the few people who can get away with telling Erza no. Elfman nearly fainted the first time she did it

"Erza I'm having boy problems" "like feelings problems or I can fix it with a sword problems?"

Lucy helps Erza get ready for her first date, she does her makeup and hair and gives her a pep talk before sending her off like a proud sister

She also helps her get ready for her wedding later on and cries the whole time

Lucy can always tell when Erza is having a bad day and does something small to cheer her up without outright pointing out she knows Erza is upset. She'll just subtly buy her a strawberry cake or invite her out to the movies

Erza tries to do the same thing for Lucy but isn't as good at picking up the changes in her mood. Lucy still appreciates the effort and it never fails to make her day

Erza and Laxus petition for Lucy to get picked for the S-Class trials. Master Makarov wasn't sure, but seeing how passionate they both were about it, he did put her up for it

[landwriter]

2!

Hounds of Love by The Futureheads. Oh! What a gem!! I first loved this song when I was a wee bab and rediscovered it this past summer. It, along with all my top songs, was on a summer driving playlist which is why it is so insanely high haha. There's a sort of lovely pastoral wildness to this and I think that suits our lads so well.

An outdoorsy AU with competence kink out the wazoo, where Dream is a bird specialist at a wildlife rehabilitative centre, who becomes a minor TikTok celebrity (much to his enormous apathy) when the centre starts doing interpretive meet-birds events and the internet falls in love with this dour hottie who only smiles when he's talking about birds (Matthew, naturally, runs the account). Hob is a hunter - bow, mostly - who is regrettably very on TikTok, very on all social media - he hates the term but he is unquestionably an 'influencer'. He just likes sharing his knowledge and passion, alright? And the gear sponsorships are nice.

He sees Dream, and sees, mostly, a really great collab opportunity, so he messages him, and Dream (who is Matthew, and just shouted HOB FUCKING GADLING? IN MY DMs? at his phone when he got the message, immediately sets up a meeting at the centre. Then he breaks the news to Dream, specifically when Dream is holding Jessamy, so he can't be murdered.)

Dream, of course, expects Hob to be some like, swaggering font of red-blooded machismo talking points, and suspects Hob is only popular because he looks like an advertisement in Outdoor Living. (Matthew showed him pictures.) He disregards Matthew, who says Hob is actually super cool, because Matthew has terrible taste and would be the first to admit it. But his interest is piqued when Lucienne also knows who Hob is. It turns out Hob is deeply involved in nature and wildlife conservancy. Gives talks at schools. Gets involved with land protection initiatives. Teaches orienteering to youth. But everyone seems to expect him to hate Hob, which he would find faintly insulting except that he also expects himself to hate Hob. He doesn't. Not that much. Even when he shows up in a plaid shirt that is made of 'technical' fabric, because he's smart and excited to talk to Dream about birds, has an encyclopedic knowledge of the history of falconry, and most importantly, Jessamy takes to him immediately.

They run into each other again at a renaissance fair, another thing Dream hates but has been strong-armed into doing, and so they are both dressed in very silly clothes when it happens: the first time Hob watches Dream demonstrate falconry, the first time Dream watches Hob use a longbow made from a yew tree he fell himself, the first time they go from a wary sort of respect for one another to a wanting.

Dream, who has a recurring fantasy about running away from it all, listens to Hob tell tracking stories and thinks, If I went into the woods, you would find me. But he doesn't want to run from Hob - except sometimes, when he sees Hob chew on his lip consideringly before giving a thoughtful answer about the guiding industry, or when Hob grins wildly at the crowd after his archery demonstration, and most of all, when Hob phones him out of the blue one day - he doesn't text, he phones - sounding a little breathless with excitement, and asks Dream if he wants to come with him for a week in the mountains, on "probably a wild goose chase" and promises "all sorts of birds if nothing else." (Hob had meant to only share the news with Dream. Fuck, he thinks. I am so fucked.)

He says yes, for the birds, of course, and tells Matthew the next time he's at the centre.

"So what's the wild goose chase?" asks Matthew.

Dream plumbs his memory of the phone call and says, "Hob told me he received a bighorn sheep tag." Matthew gapes at him.

"Holy shit," says Matthew. "He's in love with you."

"He is certainly not."

"Uh, no, respectfully boss, he 'certainly' is. Lucienne!" he shouts, "Hob invited Dream to come out on his Dall sheep tag. What the fuck, right?"

Lucienne comes in and raises her eyebrows. "Oh dear," she says. She's smiling.

"What," says Dream. "It's a sheep. I don't understand."

Lucienne and Matthew exchange a glance.

"Him. I cannot believe Hob chose him," says Matthew.

"Love works in mysterious ways," says Lucienne.

"I am right here," says Dream.

Matthew turns to him, "Have fun in Alberta," he says.

this would ft. nights of wild stars, rugged terrain, type ii fun, sexual tension around a campfire, homoerotic form checks, tent sharing, dream glassing beautiful birds with hob's $3000 binoculars while hob stares at him in abject adoration, dream watching hob strip off his clothes and jump into an alpine lake, and refusing to join him out of pretended prudishness when it's really because he's suddenly so hard it hurts, camp coffee, confessions about themselves instead of confessions about their feelings for each other, sore muscles for a VARIETY of reasons, and lots of allegories about wildness and taming and running away from things, and SO MUCH COMPETENCE KINK, friends. so much. i would probably write it like - act one them leading their separate lives, their desires and aches etc., act two - meetcute and circling one another, act three - The Trip. this one has a very happy ending i can tell

[lillysbigwilly]

omg how about a royalty au hc for ellie!! like knight!ellie is the main guard for princess!reader and like they have so much tension and stuff despite their different position/role in the castle xoxo

yes yes yes!! i’ve read a few royalty au one shots before and fell in love so here we go!! let me know if we want a one shot of this?!

knight!ellie headcanons

you where the princess, next in line for throne. your father the king and a great one at that

ellie, for the past two years, had been your knight. she started working for the king when she was sixteen and on your eighteenth birthday was placed as your personal guard.

she stood guard of you room for the first half of the knight, making sure no one was able to come in whilst you slept peacefully

although, the more time you spent around her, whether it was going on a walk because you were bored or travelling to nearby towns to listen to your dad speak, the closer you got to her.

instead of going to bed at nine, you would stay awake for hours. sat on the floor in your pretty little nightgown, chatting away about the adventures she had been on (she refused to leave her post, just in case)

sometimes, the two of you would speak through your door if she took the morning shift. talking away whilst your maid helped you change into the dress they wanted you in

knight!ellie would watch in disgust as your father lined up your potential suitors. the men (and ellie) unknowing that you where gay.

at the end of the night, when you where supposed to be in bed and ellie was on patrol, you’d drag her into your room and slam the door behind her. ranting on and on about how disgusting the men where

it would be that night that ellie finds out your gay. letting it slip at the end with a quick “i don’t even like men!”.

she would feel the world stop as you broke down, falling into her chest as you wrapped your arms around her. ellie would, reluctantly hold you. scared you would crumble under her touch.

after that night, you would make any excuses to spend time with ellie alone. walking around the grounds, going horseback riding, getting her to teach you archery (your father wasn’t fond of the last one but was glad you were learning how to defend yourself)

eventually, you’d start sneaking to the town ellie lived in when she wasnt at the castle (which wasn’t often) you’d end up in the tavern where ellie coincidentally was.

she’d be adamant on getting you home but after some persuasion, you ended up with a drink in your hand and dancing around with the locals.

at some point in the night, you had managed to convince ellie to dance with you. your hand in hers and the other on her shoulder whilst her other hand held your waist. you swayed and she spam you

eventually, you had given up dancing properly. your arms around her neck whilst hers fell around your waist. your foreheads pressed together

“thank you for looking after me ellie” “it’s my job princess” “job… yeah”

you knew she meant well but hearing that she only looked after you for a job hurt you more than it should

after the night in the tavern, you distanced yourself. whenever ellie asked if you wanted an archery lesson or to go for a walk, you would deny it. saying you had reading or lessons to do

ellie would have had enough of the messing about and one night when she was finishing her shift, she’d storm inside your room to see you up and reading a book in the moonlight

“you’ve been avoiding me” “i don’t think i have ellie” “why!”

she’d be so persistent on getting an answer from you, you’d put your book down and stand up. stopping right in front of her face

“i get it’s your job to care about me but i really fucking wish it wasn’t” “what do you mean” “your so oblivious”

you, too, had enough playing around and instead just took her face in your hands and placed a kiss on her lips

“you just… you kissed me” “and i really want to do it again”

and you did, this time however ellie’s hands fell onto your hips. the two of you stumbling towards your bed, ellie falling backwards whilst you straddled her legs. the kiss unbroken

you had an eventful night, sweaty body’s and passionate kisses. it was cut short though, since ellie had to leave before anyone found you both.

the day after that, you demanded your father to allow ellie to be your suitor. you explained that you really liked her, your father was a bit shocked at first (and so was all the other workers in the dining hall) but was quick to compose himself.

it took a small amount of persuasion but you were soon in a carriage to the village ellie lived in with your father. civilians watching as you drove by, you knocked on ellie’s door with a smile

it was safe to say that the next next in line for throne would be the first in history to have a woman on her arm

[anemoarchonhoe]

Commission for @unkownknowledge

Can I please commission Venti saving a transfem reader from their transphobic family?(And maybe falling in love?) With the fic being Venti helping reader find feminine clothes?

I did my very best so I hope you like it! Please read the tags before reading this work.

You have been uncomfortable in your skin for as long as you could remember.

However, you were only a kid back then, so it’s understandable why you couldn’t figure out why you felt so awful.

You were a teenager when you finally realized why.

It was only out of curiosity, but you tried on your mother’s lipstick and dress.

You couldn’t bear to look at yourself in the mirror before, but now that you are dressed femininely…

For the first time, you felt free. You’re so beautiful.

This is who you truly are. You are a woman.

Excited, you share the news with your family. You were disappointed.

Your father attempted to make you “snap out of your delusion” by intensively training you in swordsmanship and archery, hoping his son will “come back”.

You told him you have always been his DAUGHTER. He made you run until you couldn’t move.

Your mother couldn’t even bare to look at you. She hid her makeup and dresses.

It didn’t bother you because you bought your own, but it broke your heart to see her reject you. She acted like you didn’t exist.

Dinners are quiet. Uncomfortable. Unbearable.

You grew afraid for your survival. Your parents may kick you out of their home at any time.

Tearfully, you conveyed your fears to your friend, Venti. You hadn’t known him long, but you made you feel safe.

“Can you fight?”

You nodded. Your father drilled swordsmanship and archery lessons in you since you were 13.

“Great! Now, show me what you can do.”

He brought you to a small hilichurl camp and asked you to exterminate them. You did it, and while he gave you some slight assistance, you mostly managed to do it on your own.

Satisfied, he told you, “You should be able to be an adventurer and earn an honest living, then.”

You cried. He smiled and held you.

That was the day you received your Anemo vision.

He was there when you registered yourself at the Adventurer’s Guild.

The Guild Branch offers rooms for adventurers who don’t have homes. That’s where Bennett stays and he’s happy to have someone near his age that he can talk to.

Venti gave you occasional assistance on your commissions. And if he can’t, he points you to an adventurer party that can. Or you like going with Bennett, if you’re looking up for a challenge.

Soon, you had formed an adventuring party who you can trust to have your back.

Venti observed you live your life freely with a supportive grin. He is so proud of you.

A smile suits your beautiful face rather than the constant gloom he used to see.

You turn to grace him with that smile that made his heart throb with longing. He smiles back softly.

As for you, you are content.

You may have lost your family forever but you had yourself.

You have YOU and it is enough.

"Venti, hurry up! They have this pretty leather armor on sale and I don’t want to miss out!"

"Ugh… alright, alright." He groaned, looking like he had just woken up from an alcohol-induced sleep last night. He agreed with you that he should hurry but he made no attempt to walk faster.

You sighed affectionately at him. "Did you have a fun night?"

He brightened slightly, recalling all of what happened last night at the Angel's Share. Judging by how elated the bard is, you could imagine that he was happy. Although, perhaps at the expense of Charles or Master Diluc. "Indeed, I did. A little too much fun, in fact. I’m nearly out of mora."

"Oh, Venti. And here I was about to ask you to treat me to lunch later."

"Have mercy upon my wallet."

You giggled as you reached Wagner’s shop and slam-opened the door like you owned the place. That earned you a snort from Venti and a grunt of irritation from the blacksmith. The anemo god seemed happy to see you so confident now, unlike the trembling lost girl he had met a few years ago. He now wonders what you would think if you knew who he truly was. For now, he's content to keep it secret. He'll tell you one day, just not right now.

"If it weren't for the fact that you are one of my most loyal customers, I'd have kicked you out immediately," Wagner grunted, giving you a lazy glare. "Now, I'm busy. Tell me what you want then scram."

Unbothered, you immediately place your order for your leather armor as well as asking him to sharpen your silver sword that has gone dull. Wagner takes your sword and get to work. Then you face Venti, who still looks like he's hungover. You give him a sympathetic smile and gave him a soft headpat, hoping to ease his suffering a bit.

"Thank you, dear friend," Venti sighed, leaning against your hand.

"You're welcome, Venti," you replied. You continue your ministrations until Wagner was done with your order. After that, you walked with the bard to a clothing store, intending you get yourself a few dresses and skirts. As a very busy adventurer, there are times when your clothes inevitably get caught in bushes, branches and thorns. Sometimes it either rips, tears, and gets singed from hilichurl and elemental monster attacks. Thankfully, your last commission paid exceptionally well and you're now able to afford new clothing. You took Venti with you in hopes of getting his opinion.

But you also wanted to dress up and impress him. And you hope to fish some compliments from him, too. You pray to Barbatos that Venti would find you beautiful.

A breeze blows past you softly. You turn to look at Venti, who's looking at you with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. You took both of those as good signs.

A ring from a bell echoes in the empty boutique when Venti opens the door to let you in first.

"After you, my lady." Venti bowed.

"Thank you, kind gentleman." you giggled.

Venti took a seat and you began choosing clothing with the help of the sales lady. He looks around, humming to himself as he tries to help out with searching for clothing that will suit you and your taste. His eyes landed on a mint-colored dress. It's not suitable for adventuring, but it'd be suitable for a small event that's coming up soon. It'll be a day full of singing and dancing. He could already imagine you having fun.

"Hey," Venti called for your attention, raising the hand that has the dress. "Will you be willing to try this on? I think you'll look great in it. I'll pay for it, no worries."

"You don't have to, Venti…" you felt breathless. The dress looks beautiful, but you can't help but blush at the realization that he wants you to match with his color scheme. The colors look like his own, just a little lighter.

"I insist. Now, try it on! I want to see you in it."

So you did. You even styled your hair in order to match the dress, and the lady assisting you even suggested some great accessories and shoes to go along with it. When you exited the changing room to face Venti, you were a little flustered over how much effort you put in order to impress him. You dare lift your eyes to try and see his reaction.

The bard just averted his eyes from you. You would've been disappointed if you didn't just witness how the blush on his cheeks spread across his face like a forest wildfire. You were honestly a little thrilled and pleased.

"Sooo…" you slowly spun in place. "How do I look?"

He's mumbling.

"What?" You walked closer.

"I said… you look stunning." He shyly looks up at you from where he's sitting. "Breathtaking. Beautiful. Gorgeous. The fairest lady in the land."

As he began to confidently rain praises on you, it's your turn to feel flustered. You laughed awkwardly, raising your hands to shield yourself from the onslaught of praise.

"Okay, okay, I get it! I guess I'll get it along with the rest of the clothes I picked earlier."

Despite your protest, you couldn't stop Venti from paying for all of the clothes as well as the accessiories you picked. And as he gently took your hand while he carried your bags, you felt like the most cherished woman in all of Mondstadt. Your heart couldn't help but skip a few beats whenever he squeezes your hand. Soon, you reach the Guild Headquarters where you stay.

"Good night, Venti. Thanks for accompanying me."

"Yeah. Good night."

None of you made another move. There's a slight tension in the air. Then Venti takes your hand and places a kiss on your knuckle, then bows, walking away into the streets of Mondstadt. He leaves you stunned, but ultimately very happy.

Word count: 1,000

Character count: 5,483

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

I just reread my bookmark and found this WIP. It's character seeing the past

The Characters of MDZS Watching the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation 

by emma_screams

M, WIP, 147k, Wangxian

Summary: What happens when a suspicious letter was sent to all the clans, inviting them to an appointed location to learn about the truth of thirteen years ago and now? Will the Yiling Patriarch finally get the justice he seeks? Will Hanguang-Jun lose some of his regret? Will Jiang Cheng find the peace he desperately needs? And will the other Sect Leaders finally realize what a piece of shit they are get the faceslapping they deserve? But most importantly, will Wei Wuxian allow a drunk Lan Zhan to be viewed by the public? Find out in the epic series of the characters watching the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation!

~*~

i'd like to rec some fics for wip week!

i loved the description of "this is an lqr & wwx get-along-sweater fic" 😂 @danmeiireader

patching the road with vague intentions

by loosingletters (@loosingmoreletters)

T, WIP, 9k, Wangxian

Summary: “What have you done!?” thundered a voice Wei Wuxian had, frankly speaking, never wanted to hear again. “Old man Lan?” Wei Wuxian blurted out, staring at the aged face of his former teacher. At the back of his mind, Wei Wuxian remembered the cut of his robes, that he wasn’t dressed like a widow at all, but like a Lan. Lan Qiren looked around, his gaze stuck somewhere above Wei Wuxian’s head, most likely the half-ruined summoning array behind him – fucking stupid, Wei Wuxian should’ve gotten rid of it immediately. Just why did it have to be a Lan summoning him, why Lan Qiren his visitor at the door? Wasn’t death enough punishment? “Wei Wuxian?” Lan Qiren asked wearily. Or, Wei Wuxian is summoned back to life in the Cloud Recesses. Unfortunately, the person to find him is Lan Qiren, forcing the unlikely duo to work together to keep the circumstances Wei Wuxian's return undiscovered.

~*~

sibling dynamics! dadxian! magically turning yourself trans! 👌🏽 @danmeiireader

deeper than the ink

by loosingletters (@loosingmoreletters)

M, WIP, 49k, Wangxian

Summary: Lonesomeness, the state of waiting and wanting, being caught in an endless fog with no escape. Harried by the distance to Wei Wuxian and his sister’s impending marriage, Jiang Cheng makes a trip to the Burial Mounds that doesn’t end in just another screaming match, but a desperate scheme to keep his brother by his side. On a mountain of corpses, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng damn themselves to one last lie.

~*~

i ADORE wen ning (like, in general, but especially in this fic) @danmeiireader

Where The Arrow Points

by Nillegible (@nillegible)

G, WIP, 4k, Wangxian

Summary: Wen Ning is thrown back in time to the archery competition at the Qishan Wen discussion conference. Before he died, and before a war. Last time he was here, he missed his shot, and was laughed away. This time he doesn't miss. (Or, Wen Ning pulls a Mockingjay at the Wen Sect's discussion conference, and changes the fate of the world.)

~*~

knives :) @danmeiireader

Every time you fall

by Nillegible (@nillegible)

T, WIP, 9k, Wangxian

Summary: “I always said that you would bring trouble to our sect,” says Madam Yu, following it up with a third strike, then more, one after another, each one jerking his body forward, robbing him of control enough to breathe, to think. He’s never felt pain like this before. Not the fiery lashes tearing the flesh on his back, the pain of his heart shattering as he realizes what will happen now. 'I didn’t know this would happen,' thinks Wei Wuxian. 'I was only trying to do the right thing.' For the first time ever, Wei Wuxian believes Madam Yu’s censure of him. I did this. I brought them here. My fault. (or: WWX decides the Wen attack on Lotus Pier is his fault, so he sends Madam Yu and Jiang Cheng away towards Meishan Yu, and runs back to save the others)

~*~

and i saw that you recced SSJ [💙Stunted, Starving Juvenility] (my beloved!!!), and i wanted to specifically rec its podfic! it's SO well done. the reader has a pleasant tone and pace, and does thoughtful character voices and even regional accents (an interpretation of them!). the podfic is OVER SIXTY HOURS (so far!!!!)(after editing!!!) so i'd like to give a nod to the insane amount of hard work that went into it ❤💙 @danmeiireader

Stunted, Starving Juvenility [Podfic]

by gndmlvr01

E, WIP, Podfic, Wangxian

Summary: Podfic of Stunted, Starving Juvenility, by TomatenMark Read by gndmlvr01, and posted with permission Please note: I did add on extra tags that I find helpful to locate works like this (ex: Genius WWX) Original story summary: At sixteen Wei Wuxian is—through some strange twist of fate, or a nick in the layer between parallel universes, who knows—out of the blue confronted with that one incense burner dream one night. While his curious mind is left unable to stop poking at this new perspective on Lan Wangji, circumstances in the Cloud Recesses begin to change and Wei Wuxian is suddenly presented with life-altering opportunities. Maybe Gusu isn’t so bad after all? (Or alternatively: The fic where I get to give Wei Wuxian the academic scholarship he deserves while simultaneously getting him hitched early on.)

~*~

oh no forgot one for wip week 😅

this fic was recced for an itmf i sent and i love the premise! @danmeiireader

Please Take This Radish

by Wildcard

M, WIP, 7k, Wangxian

Summary: “Are you telling me,” Jiang Cheng said, voice starting out in a low growl and then rapidly rising in volume, “That Wei Wuxian - the YILING PATRIARCH - reincarnated in his old bedroom?!” Xue Yang is the first and best disciple of the Yiling Patriarch. He is excellent at raising corpses, spectacular at making talismans and an expert swordsman. He is also 11 years old, trying to raise a toddler and has been mistaken for a de-aged Yiling Patriarch. Life is not going well.

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)

[crispysnake]

Hey yall! For my modern au, I have made Outfit Inspo Boards for all of VM!

First up is gonna be the ladies:) The dudes of vm will be here!

Keyleth: Keyleth loves fun patterns and funky clothes, she didn't have a lot of confidence to express herself growing up, so when she moved to Emon she took a box of Vilyas old clothes (vilya dressed vaguely hippie, she told me herself) and decided to try new things:) I think it took a while for her to reach this point in her style, she had to build the confidence and throughout the years she's bought a lot of second hand stuff, locally commissioned sweaters, handmade jewelry, and sewn her own maxi skirts. And it doesn't hurt that the flow and looseness of it is sensory friendly:).

Pike: Listennnn Pike works long hours and when she isn't working shes baking (and drinking) or sparring with Grog, she prioritizes being comfortable and practical. In uni her and keyleth would often go thrifting together as a way to decompress, but these days she mostly steals the graphic t-shirts straight out of Scanlans closet.

Vex: Look me in the eyes and tell me she wouldn't absolutely rock low-rise jeans. exactly. you cant. Anyways Vex works outside in the wilderness a lot so she also prioritizes practicality, but still knows how to look very good while doing so. Similar to Keyleth, Vex didn't have a lot of ways to express herself growing up outside archery, so I think she takes a lot of pride in her style. plus, wink wink nudge nudge she wear he coat

[innytoes]

Eff this, I should be at Build-a-Bear / Kayla and anyone

Okay but I was coming up for the plot of this and my brain rolled in your other prompt of 'I don't think pancakes are going to fix this. I think I need ice cream too. / Flynn ship of choice, romantic or platonic'

"Come join us at our summer job, Kayla, it will be fun, Kayla!" Kayla mocked as she flopped down on the too-hard mattress of her tiny bed in the Counselor's Cabin. "I just spent half an hour holding back a girl's hair while she puked because she ate two bags of sour gummy worms on a dare."

"Flynn had to break up a fight about who would be allowed to date Harry Styles once they made it big and they did not take it well when Flynn pointed out he was a thirty year old man and they were twelve," Julie said. She was equally flopped on her bed, but in the opposite direction, staring at the ceiling like she was regretting her life choices. "And a fourteen year old just nearly made me cry after I confiscated her vape."

"Fourteen year olds are vicious," Kayla agreed.

Sure, this 'pop star' camp was a pretty sweet gig. The environment was beautiful, they got to do what they loved, and they had copious amounts of free time when they handed the kids off to the boys - Willie and Reggie for more traditional camp stuff like horseback riding and archery, Alex for ballet where Kayla taught modern and hiphop dance, and Luke for songwriting.

Even though half the time Kayla stuck around at dance, Julie joined the songwriting workshops, and Flynn was always down to judge whatever weird games Willie or Reggie came up with for the kids.

And the kids were usually okay. Except for tonight. Maybe it was a full moon or something.

"Reggie just texted me that he and Luke had to put out a fire in one of the boys' cabins," Flynn reported. "And Willie heard something about them wanting to sneak out tonight and try and raid the girl's cabin, so he and Alex are driving into town to get some werewolf masks and gloves to patrol tonight."

"That'll be fun," Kayla said sagely. It would be a disaster, but that was a Willie and Alex problem.

"Why did we think this was a good idea again?" Flynn complained.

"The money," Kayla said.

"Looks good on college applications," Julie pointed out.

"Eff that, I should be at the club," Flynn whined.

"I should be at Build-A-Bear," Kayla sighed. Not as a summer job, mind you. She lasted like three days into her trial period before she accidentally exploded one of the bears by overfilling it and made a small child cry.

"Build-a-bear?" Julie asked, intrigued.

"It's my happy place," Kayla said. "You get to pick out something cute and soft and then see it come to life and dress it up in cute outfits and then you have something to hug." She stopped, realizing how uncool she sounded.

"Aw, now I want to go to Build-a-Bear," Julie whined.

"As soon as we have a day off, we're going, all three of us," Flynn declared. "But until then, let's raid the kitchen."

"Late night pancakes?" Kayla perked up. Julie's chocolate chip pancakes were legendary.

"I don't think pancakes are going to fix this," Flynn said. "I think I need ice cream too."

They were still halfway through a pint of the Good Stuff, hidden away behind some bags of peas in the big freezer, when the shrieks from near the boy's cabin started.

"We're going to need more ice cream," Julie groaned, as she looked out the window and saw lights coming on in all the cabins.

[weebsinstash]

Just some more ideas for sone stuff Mr Rich Douche Yandere would do to his darling/the Reader

--apparently hair elastics like ponytails can technically damage your hair, so if you use them he insists on tying your hair up with silk ribbons and other soft materials (and wants to do it himself obviously)

--doesn't let you swim in public pools or public bodies of water besides the ocean and even then that's on private property. Not only does he not want to have to share your half nude body with anyone else, but, poor people can be dirty and gross to the point of being another species in his eyes. And not to enable him but have you ever read those stories of people who don't bathe before going into pools because they believe the chlorine is like a shower? 🤢

--really, activities that require you touching other people or sharing things with other people just strike him as unsanitary and "you're too good for them anyways". He kind of thinks all poor people in general are trashy and you're just an exception, perfect to him in almost every way. No buffets, no public gyms, no bowling, no clubbing, no strip mall beauty salons/spas that might have dirty equipment, no sports events not in a private box, like, the list goes on and on

--pressures you into having "real hobbies" aka things he approves of, likes himself, and/or can do with you, but are usually like, rich people bullshit: painting, golfing, teaching you to play a classical instrument, archery, horseback riding

--dresses you in only the best, kind of excessively. Once you enter a serious relationship with him, he'll make you forget what jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers even are. Absolutely buys you new clothes to throw out and replace anything you owned before him.

--you know how some yanderes will go as far as to collect tissues, they're so obsessed with anything you've touched or owned? Not his ass! If it isn't super sentimental to you or something you use often, he slowly replaces everything you own with things he's bought for you. Only the best for his baby 🥰 and also no traces of your past can be allowed to remain. He's all you need now right? so let's get rid of all those things given to you by people who came before him. You don't need those useless old memories...

--none of your friends are good enough for him and he'll heavily discourage you from spending time with them, even outright bribing them/threatening them into avoiding you.

--wants to get married and tie you down basically right away, but he's calculated enough to at least kind of wait and make you love him first. If he's a noble, he'll pull strings for another noble to adopt you or something to "legitimize your status", and if he's a king or emperor he may just ignore the laws to let you be directly at his side and not a mere concubine. Who's gonna stop him? He's literally the man in charge

--i like to imagine at some point in the relationship you're living with him in one of his homes and he's in his office with his multiple computer monitors that he uses for work, and he's just sitting there watching you through security cameras to see you in your private moments, simply craving and consuming every last detail about you no matter how personal

--when he's away, you're assigned private security because he's wealthy/important enough that you could be kidnapped. He definitely overplays the possibility of danger when you bring up doing anything that loosens his control and surveillance, though. He'll tell you it's only because he treasures you much and has to keep you safe

--all im saying is that he's "leader of a country" level rich and money can achieve anything. That ex-boyfriend you bumped into on a date with him? Missing without a trace, the cops don't even investigate. Relationship go south and you run away? A black van rolls up while you're on the sidewalk and you get taken right back by men in black suits who are being paid way too much to mind if you bite and scream. You start cracking under the pressure if all his expectations and say you'll leave him? Threaten to hurt yourself? Hippity hoppity your body is his property, and he's sending you to a private clinic where they'll force meds into you and monitor you while he finishes his business affairs and sets up a nice little "vacation home" for you both to "take time off" and for you to "clear your head". He's thinking an island, something nice and remote....

[an-evergreen-rose]

When Worlds Collide Part 4

Kate Bishop x Female Spiderwoman reader (basically has Miles powers; invisibility, electric webs)

Summary: You meet the bass player. jk. :))

Warnings: Some swearing

A/N: It's a bit shit and a bit short but here ya go.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FIVE

Kate let you borrow some more of her clothes again, a pair of black jeans, some converse that were actually Yelena’s that she had left here a while back, but they were the only ones that fit you, and a simple black tank top. Kate liked the way your arms were on show, loving the simple definition your muscles had, a slight pout made its way onto her lips when you put on another one of her hoodies. One reason was that she didn't get to see your arms anymore, and the other was because you looked so darn cute. And when she saw how you had to roll up her jeans at the bottom so they wouldn’t drag along the floor she couldn’t help but bit her lip to try and suppress a smile.

Clint had arranged for Happy to come and pick up two up and Kate talk his ear off so much on the way to the compound that he actually put up the divider between the front and back portions of the car. You couldn’t help but laugh at the man's frustrations.

“So rude,” Kate muttered, looking out the window, seeing the compound in her view. She looked over to her right, seeing your leg bounce with anticipation as Happy pulled up outside. “Hey,” Kate spoke softly, resting her hand on your leg, stopping your nervous actions, “It’s gonna be okay.”

You looked at the archer’s hand on your leg, then at her blue eyes, “Promise?”

Kate felt her heart almost burst. You looked at her like your life depended on her. Like she was the only one who could save you if anything went wrong. She loved that look on you. 

“I promise.”

Kate lead you through the building, taking the elevator up to the 4th floor, and down very confusing corridors before she opened a door labelled 405. Once inside you saw a large table with about ten seats around it, three of them were taken. One belonged to a red-haired woman, she sat up straight and confident in her chair, dressed in all black training gear you imagined - being an avenger and all. You guessed that it was Natasha, Kate had tried to explain the avengers to you last night over the pizza so now it was up to you to try and remember as much as possible. Next to her was a man with a very large tattoo covering his whole arm. Clint. Kate talked a lot about him, considering he was ‘the hawkeye’ that got Kate into archery in the first place. Then, on the opposite side of the table was a man dressed in a rather expensive-looking suit and funky beard. Tony Stark. What also gave it away was him wearing sunglasses inside, Kate had told you only Tony could pull that off

[these bitches still alive :)]

“So,” Tony started, standing up from his seat and walking up to you and Kate, “You’re the new spider-kid.” He lowered his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose taking a better look. Definitely does not make you feel 10 times more nervous.

“Yup.” Smooth Y/N, real fucking smooth.

“Care to explain how you -now, what did Kate say again,” Clint said, looking down to a piece of paper with some scrawny-looking handwritten notes on it. “Fell from the sky out of a weird portal thing?”

Tony had taken his seat again, his sunglasses flung carelessly on the hard wooden table. You furrowed your brows slightly at the question. “No clue, one second I was swinging, the next I’m in the fucking bins with a bow and arrow pointed at my head.” 

Kate let out a small chuckle, remembering the weird events from last night. Jeeze, how had she only met you last night and was already this infatuated with you? “I thought you guys may have some more answers,” the raven-haired girl quipped, “It's not every day another spiderman falls from the sky.”

“Not a man,” You spoke quietly, but loud enough to gain a small smirk from the redhead in front of you.

“Definitely not a man,” Kate corrected herself, a small blush on her cheeks remembering last night when she first looked at you on the rooftops.

“How do we know you have these abilities?” Tony asked sceptically, clearly a little bit defensive over his spiderman. Natasha and Clint also looked at you expectantly, waiting for some proof.

With a roll of your eyes, you quickly raised your wrist, webbing Tony's sunglasses, bringing them towards you. You couldn't help the small smirk on your face at their shocked expression when you put the frames on your face.

“How do I look?” You asked Kate who also couldn’t help the smile on her face. She knew you’d be good.

“Hot.”

You felt your face heat up at the comment.

“Can I keep these?” You asked the bearded man, pointing to the metal frames on your face. You tried your best to not laugh at his defeated face.

“Finders keepers, right?” Natasha said. You were starting to like her.

“Anyone can make web shooters, kid,” Tony argued, “I’m gonna need a bit more convincing.”

“What, do you want me to crawl around on the ceiling?”

“It would help your case,” He smirked, hoping to amuse himself. But you couldn’t let him win just yet.

“Can anyone do this?” You asked rhetorically, before turning yourself invisible.

Natasha looked toward Clint, her eyebrows raised with interest, “Well damn.”

“I told you she was good,” Kate said excitedly to Clint as you reappeared. He actually did show some interest in you now. She slung her arm around your shoulders, looking proudly at you, “My girl is gonna knock the other spiderman out of the park.”

My girl. Holy shit, if you thought you were blushing before you would hate to see your face right now.

“Now that, I’ve got to see,” The older archer said, a small smile resting on his face at the thought.

“Alright, kid. I’m convinced.” 

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[imaginarianisms]

something something daenerys being all the targaryen queens & female relatives before her & being all of them at once & not just another aegon or rhaegar, yes, they are a part of her, yes, she is aegon the conqueror come again, yes, she is as noble as rhaegar, but she is also rhaenys targaryen who was kindhearted, graceful, playful, curious, impulsive, given to flights of fancy with a mischievous nature, loved bards, singers & the smallfolk & who loved to fly more than anything in the whole world & visenya targaryen who was a harsh, austere beauty & a sensual, passionate, stern, serious & unforgiving woman & was known to dabble in dark sorcery, play with poisons & use blood magic & dress as comfortably as she does in armor as she does in silk & she was a dragonrider & a warrior. she is also the amethyst empress, valaena velaryon, alyssa velaryon, the good queen alysanne targaryen if she'd only had the opportunity to wield power in her own right alongside jaehaerys i as she was kind, gentle, loving & loved all her subjects lowborn & highborn alike & was well loved throughout westeros as she loved her women's courts & was also skilled in hunting, archery & was known for her charity & she would've been sent to the citadel had she been born male, rhaena targaryen the black bride of maegor i, who was initially more comfortable with animals than people, who was deemed the queen in the west while remaining at casterly rock in the westerlands & later the queen in the east while holding dragonstone & was furious when betrayed & scornful of those she did not trust & was said to love other women, saera targaryen who made a kingdom in her own right & was significant in volantis, viserra targaryen the primadonna girl, aemma arryn, rhaenyra targaryen the half year queen who tried to do what daenerys her descendant did but could not due to the misogyny of the realm, helaena targaryen the dreamer, daena targaryen the defiant, elaena targaryen who was shrewd & intelligent, larra rogare, naerys targaryen the devout, myriah martell, dyanna dayne, princess daenerys of dorne who saw no difference between highborn & lowborn, shiera seastar, the star of the sea who was the most beautiful woman of her time in westeros to the point where duels were fought over the right to sit beside her, men killed themselves when falling from her favor & poets outdid each other writing songs about her beauty, she spoke many languages & was a seductress & a witch who held a large arcana library, betha blackwood who was said to be willful, rhaella targaryen her mother who was always said to be mindful of her duty, forced to marry her abusive brother & died giving birth to her, & so many other girls & women who were overlooked simply on the basis of their gender. all of these women's blood is in daenerys' just as much as rhaegar & aegon's is. daenerys targaryen is the justice & vengeance of all the grandmothers, mothers, sisters, daughters, nieces, cousins & granddaughters who were overlooked in favor of their male relatives, their grandfathers, fathers, their uncles, their brothers, their cousins & grandsons simply on the basis of being girls & women in a world that denied them freedom.

daenerys targaryen will finally break that cycle & break that wheel that tied so many of these women to these fates that bound them, used them, abused them & murdered them, she is the daughter of house targaryen that gets to not only survive, but live, thrive & conquer in a way her female ancestors & even her male ancestors could only dream of doing; she will do what no other targaryen in her lineage let alone any valyrian has ever done before, raising not just one but three dragons, drogon, rhaegal & viserion, riding her own dragon drogon, conquering & laying waste to the cities of essos, rectifying the sins of old valyria by destroying the slave trade, uniting all of the unsullied & dothraki under her banner & many different peoples, armies & cultures together, & taking back her birthright & playing a great role in saving the world from the others & their wights, & after bringing fire & blood to westeros, she will ensure a new golden age, she will surpass all of them, & she is the best that house targaryen could ever ask for.