#I need to practice characters interacting

[shaymincafe]

Ask Karma

Okay so since we're dispensing advice into the community for our newer members, I thought I'd throw my hat into the ring with an ask blog etiquette item that I think people have somewhat neglected recently: ask karma.

Ask karma is the practice of sending asks back to people who have sent you one. When someone sends you an ask, it is generally expected that you will send one back in return. It is to your mutual benefit to do this since now not only do both of you have asks in your inbox to work with, but it also exposes your blogs to each others' followers and can potentially gain you new readers.

Ask Calls are a Two-Way Street

Generally speaking, when someone makes an ask call, you should view it as a quid pro quo situation. Unless the person explicitly states in the post otherwise, they usually wants asks back in return for the ones they're sending out. While this is not always the case, like with me where I have way too many asks already and don't need more, more often than not, this is the expectation and it's bad form to not do so.

It's the equivalent of borrowing someone's pencil in school and never giving it back. At the end of the day, it's not super consequential, but the person whose pencil you just took isn't going to be super happy that they gave that to you and got nothing in return. You feel me?

This is especially true for written blogs, who I have noticed tend to get hit by this the most. Written blogs can get through their posts a lot faster than most art blogs and therefore need asks more often. But they also tend to get a lot fewer asks!

I experienced it myself during the PokeAskMagi event where I sent out around 20 asks from @askthewhiterocket and got back 7 in total for the entire event. By comparison, Shaymin Cafe also sent out around 20 asks and got approximately 12 in return. Not a lot more but it's still a better ROI especially consider Shaymin Cafe was the far less active of the two blogs during the event.

Everyone who sent an ask to Ask the White Rocket also sent one to Shaymin Cafe, despite the majority of the blogs I interacted with getting asks from BOTH of my blogs. In addition, during my final ask call for Ask the White Rocket, I got 1 ask in return for like 5 sent out, even after explicitly stating that the inbox was empty and I wanted asks.

I realize Shaymin Cafe is a popular blog and since I had two blogs, people probably ended up just sending an ask to the more popular blog of the two since Shaymes is a fun character and such. But the same thing happened last year when Shaymes wasn't even an active character and I was really only answering asks from Kyo's blog. To be quite frank, that's unfair to the written blogs, and unfair to me too.

It takes time to send asks. Ask hints make it easier, sure, but not everyone has them. Additionally, not all ask hints are incredibly straight forward. Some require you to read a bit in the blog's backlog if you aren't familiar with it to craft an ask that a person can work with (this is why I tend to link stuff with my ask hints). Some people might also want to double check the rules of a blog first or read up on the characters to ensure they're not sending a human character to a blog that doesn't allow them, or a Gengar to a character with trauma from ghost-types without expressed permission from the creator first. This goes doubly so when you're sending asks out from multiple blogs, like I was during the event.

That effort should not go unrewarded, so the least you can do is send an ask in return! It's just good manners.

This also goes for Munday asks

Admittedly, I am pretty bad about this myself, so we're going a little pot calling kettle black, BUT it's generally good form to also send Munday asks back to people who send them to you. Now if they're not open to Munday asks or w/e then no sweat it's fine, but let's be real, we all like to yap. We all like to talk about our characters. We all enjoy answering Munday asks, so spread the love and send asks back to people who send them to you.

Part of the reason I don't really make the effort to send out Munday asks much anymore and part of why I don't open for Munday as frequently either is candidly I got very tired of sending out like a dozen Munday asks to everyone I saw open for Mundays and then getting like... 2 in return. There were a couple weeks back in like July-August were I quite literally got 0 Munday asks, and it was incredibly disheartening. Like, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed coming up with questions for other people, but it was also a total downer to sit there the entire day waiting for asks to come in and then never getting any. Not even one asking how my day was or how my weekend went. Total and complete silence.

And sure, thinking of questions is hard, I get it! You wanna know my secret? When I was sending out Munday asks regularly, I googled first date questions or improv icebreakers. There's so many great questions to ask people from those. Sure, they can be be incredibly shallow and I'm sure any veteran ask blogger whose been at this a while has probably asked and answered whether they like coffee or tea better. But I'd rather answer that ask for like the fourth time than get nothing because then I'd at least get the opportunity to talk about my thoughts on both for a minute.

This also goes quadrupley so for the memes. There are times where I see people reblogging memes and going the whole day without any interaction because they're a smaller blog. And I'll admit, I straight up have sometimes gone on anon and sent them like three asks back to back because I didn't want them to feel like no one cared about them or their characters. They deserve to get a bunch of asks too, that's part of the fun!

And I think with memes the not sending asks in return is far less excusable because usually there's emojis or numbers that you can literally just copy and paste into the ask box. I cannot tell you how many times I saw blogs I'd never met before reblogging a meme post and it took me all of five minutes to go pick a random emoji and a name from their cast page and drop that into their inbox. It is quite literally that easy.

You should also, generally speaking, send an ask to the person you got the meme from too. Whether they were the one who created it or simply just brought it into popularity, sending them an ask for the meme is a nice way to say thank you for letting you use it too. It took time and effort to create and/or find that meme, and I guarantee you they did not do it simply because they wanted other people to use it on their own blogs. They did it so THEY could answer asks from it on their OWN blog. So give them the opportunity to!

FAQ

The blog I want to send an ask to has (insert species of character) and my blog doesn't interact with that (or vice versa).

That's fine! You don't have to send an ask in character if you don't want to. Sure that's the norm, but if the casts of your blogs are incompatible for some reason, then by all means just don't send an in character ask.

The blog I want to send an ask to doesn't have readily available/up to date asks hints.

You have a couple options here. You can read back through the blog to see what has recently happened to get a feel for what might be a good ask. If you're lucky maybe they'll have a taglist somewhere that'll make backtracking easy. But if not, skimming is fine too. Otherwise, just directly DM the blog and ask them what kind of ask they want. I've done this several times and that can be a great way to get a blog exactly what ask their looking for.

The blog I want to send a Munday ask to is doing a meme I don't want to engage with.

Send them a normal question then! I guarantee you they wouldn't be opposed to answering something opposed to the meme, and even if they don't respond, they'll at least know you tried to return their ask.

The blog that sent me an ask said in their ask call they don't want asks in return.

No need to send one back then! If they said they don't want any, then they aren't expecting any in return. I do this all the time! Sometimes we just like sending out asks for fun and that's a-okay!

The blog I want to send an ask to has closed their inbox.

That's okay! In this instance, it is perfectly reasonable to not send an ask in return. If they've closed their inbox, they're likely not expecting asks back. So you're totally in the clear to not send one in return. No need to go crawling through their submission box to send one in (people actually don't usually like this). Just maybe keep an eye out in the future for if their inbox reopens!

Unless they like explicitly made a post asking for asks within like the last day. In that case please tell them because they probably forgot to open it again (happens more often than you think).

The blog I want to send an ask to doesn't have an organization system making their story, characters, hints, and other materials used in ask crafting difficult to find.

In that case, the burden lies with that blog, not you. Organization is EXTREMELY important. Skins covers this a bit in their ask blog advice post. Having easily accessible tag lists, ask hints, and casts pages can really help with getting asks sent your way. In the same way it isn't fair to someone to not send asks in return, it's equally unfair to make someone scroll through a bunch of meme reblogs just find materials to send an ask with.

The best you can do in this situation is message the blog to ask them for what they want. But if the materials to craft the ask aren't readily available to you, that is on them not you.

In short, please exercise Ask Karma. If someone sends you an ask, please send one back! Thank you!

[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031, @redflashoftheleaf, @nikipuppeteer @eliankm, @quintessences0posts,

Part 15

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Part 16: To want

The lab was buzzing with the usual energy—datapads flickering, the quiet hum of machinery, and the occasional back-and-forth between the xenobotany and medical teams. You sat at the long meeting table, half-listening, holding a hot coffee mug as Norm scrolled through his notes on the tablet in front of him.

“All right,” Norm said, tapping the screen. “Next on the agenda—Jake wants us to head to the village to do a full recheck of the medical supplies.”

That got your attention. You straightened in your seat as Kate, sitting beside you, exchanged a glance that practically screamed, interesting.

Brian, who had been half-zoned out with his arms crossed, raised a skeptical brow. “Why do they even need our supplies? It’s not like most of the Na’vi even use human medicine. They trust the Tsahik for that kind of thing.”

Norm sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, we know that, but Jake wants to be sure they have access to anything they might need. He doesn’t want anyone suffering if there’s something we can help with. Some of them do come to us in emergencies, and he wants to make sure everything is accounted for. Especially with more human-Navi interactions happening.”

Max nodded in agreement. “It’s not about replacing what Mo’at or the other healers does—it’s just about covering all the bases. And given how unpredictable life on Pandora is, having backup options isn’t the worst idea.”

You leaned forward, already making up your mind. “I’ll go.”

Kate raised her hand lazily. “Yeah, count me in too. I could use some fresh air.”

Brian let out a long breath, shaking his head but smirking nonetheless. “Well, I guess someone’s gotta carry the heavy stuff. Fine, I’m in.”

Norm gave an approving nod. “Great. Max and I will go as well. We’ll head out tomorrow morning and go over the inventory.”

As the conversation shifted to logistics, you felt a familiar flutter of anticipation in your chest. Any excuse to be in the village, to be near Neteyam, was one you were more than happy to take.

Kate nudged your arm under the table, giving you a knowing look. You didn’t need words to understand what she was saying: Oh, I see you, and I know exactly why you volunteered so fast.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small, guilty smile tugging at your lips. Yeah, she definitely wasn’t wrong.

*

The walk to the village was long but familiar, the dense foliage of the forest stretching endlessly in every direction. The sounds of Pandora surrounded you—the distant calls of creatures, the rustling of the wind through the towering trees, and the occasional hum of bioluminescent flora still lingering from the night before.

Brian adjusted the strap of the medkit slung over his shoulder, glancing around with mild curiosity. “How do they even know we’re coming? It’s not like we can send them a text or anything.”

Max, walking ahead, barely looked over his shoulder as he replied. “They already know. They’re watching us.”

Kate, who had only been to the village once before, immediately tensed. Her eyes darted toward the treetops and the thick underbrush, scanning for movement, but she saw nothing—just the endless green, stretching high above and disappearing into the deep shadows of the jungle.

“That’s comforting,” she muttered under her breath, her fingers tightening slightly around the strap of her bag.

You chuckled, nudging her playfully with your elbow. “Relax, Kate. They’re not going to hunt you down with arrows.”

Kate shot you a look, unimpressed. “You say that, but I know how big those arrows are. And I’d rather not be on the receiving end of one, thanks.”

Brian snorted. “Well, if it makes you feel better, they’d probably go for me first. I talk the most.”

“True,” you said, smirking. “You’d be the loudest target.”

Brian grinned but didn’t argue. Instead, he glanced back at Max. “So, they’re just watching us right now? Like, from the trees?”

Max nodded. “Most likely. They’re cautious about humans, always have been. But they also know we’ve been coming here for years, so they won’t interfere. As long as we don’t give them a reason to.”

Kate exhaled, shaking her head. “Great. So we’re just casually being monitored by a bunch of ten-foot-tall warriors, and I can’t even see them. Fantastic.”

You grinned at her. “Welcome to Pandora and you shouldn’t worry.”

Despite her grumbling, you could see the fascination in her expression as she continued scanning the treetops. And though you didn’t say it out loud, you knew exactly what Max meant—somewhere in the shadows, unseen but ever-present, the Na’vi were there. Watching. Waiting.

*

Kate nudged you with her elbow, her lips curving into a sly grin as she lowered her voice just enough so Brian wouldn’t hear. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. You’ve got backup even in the village.”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant. The look in her eyes—the barely-contained amusement, the way she tilted her head ever so slightly—made it painfully obvious. Neteyam.

You didn’t respond immediately, just shot her a side-eye as you kept walking. But you didn’t deny it either.

Kate hummed knowingly, her smirk widening. “Must be nice.”

You exhaled through your nose, your expression softening despite yourself. “Yeah…”

Kate shot you a look, intrigued by the honesty in your voice. “So,” she dragged out the word, the grin creeping back onto her face. “Have you two seen each other since your little hut adventure?”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you rolled your eyes. “Jeez, Kate, it was only three days ago.”

“And?” she prompted, waggling her eyebrows.

“And he’s got a million things to do,” you said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Just like me.”

Kate pursed her lips, unconvinced. “Mmmhmm. Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.”

You shot her a sharp look, but she just grinned wider. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not missing him.”

You didn’t answer right away, biting the inside of your cheek. Of course, you missed him. Terribly.

Kate smirked, her voice turning sing-song. “You totally miss him.”

You sighed, unable to help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Shut up, Kate.”

She only laughed, nudging you again. “Never.”

*

The moment you stepped into the village, the air around you shifted. The sounds of daily life—voices calling out in Na’vi, the rhythmic pounding of tools against wood and stone, the distant hum of nature blending seamlessly with the people—welcomed you like a steady heartbeat. It was different from the outpost, from the quiet sterility of the lab, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. It was a world you had come to love, a place where you felt… at home.

Norm had already peeled away, heading straight for Jake, leaving the rest of you behind to take in the scene. Kate and Brian hovered just a step behind you, their postures stiff, their eyes scanning the village with obvious unease. They were used to seeing Na’vi—Neteyam had been a constant presence around you even before you were lovers, and the avatars on the field were a common sight. But this—being surrounded by the Omaticaya in their own home, where their presence was the exception, not the norm—was another thing entirely.

You, on the other hand, felt no such hesitation. You had spent years walking the fine line between observer and participant, and it had only blurred further since Neteyam had claimed a place in your life.

A familiar voice broke through the air before you could take another step.

“Finally!”

Kiri’s voice rang out before she appeared, her tall frame moving toward you with an easy grace, a wide grin on her face.

Before you could respond, Lo’ak was right behind her, his usual lopsided smirk firmly in place as he crossed his arms. “Took you guys long enough.”

You smiled, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease just at the sight of them. “Didn’t know you were waiting for us,” you teased.

Kiri snorted, flipping her braids over her shoulder.

You narrowed your eyes at her, but Lo’ak only grinned wider. “You know,” he drawled, tilting his head at you, “he survived Dad’s lecture.”

You huffed a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Of course, he did.” You weren’t the least bit surprised that Neteyam had made it through relatively unscathed. He was, after all, Neteyam. The golden child. The responsible one. Even when caught sneaking off in the middle of the night.

Lo’ak’s smirk deepened. “You should’ve seen it, though. Dad was pissed. But hey, at least Mom didn’t find out.”

You laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “And I survived Norm’s lecture, so I’d say we’re even.”

Kiri grinned. “Barely.”

Before anything else could be said, a small figure darted through the crowd, weaving effortlessly between the tall Na’vi bodies before skidding to a stop in front of you.

“Tuk!”

The youngest Sully beamed at you, her big golden eyes shining with excitement. “You’re here!” she said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Of course I’m here,” you said warmly. “Did you miss me already?”

“Yes!” she declared, nodding enthusiastically before grabbing your wrist with her small, four-fingered hand. “Come on! I have something to show you!”

You laughed, glancing at Kiri and Lo’ak, who both looked thoroughly amused. “Should I be worried?” you asked, letting Tuk tug you forward.

“Nope,” Kiri said, smirking. “But you should definitely be prepared.”

Lo’ak chuckled. “She’s been waiting for you.”

Kate and Brian remained behind, clearly content to stay out of whatever chaos Tuk was about to drag you into. But you didn’t mind. Being around the Sully kids, in the heart of the Omaticaya village, surrounded by these people—it felt like stepping into a world that had slowly, inevitably, begun to feel like yours.

Even if you weren’t technically part of it.

Not yet.

*

Just as you were about to let Tuk drag you off on whatever adventure she had planned, Norm’s voice rang out from the other side of the clearing.

“Hey! Can I get some help over here?”

You turned your head to see him standing near a small set of supplies, Max beside him, already sorting through some of the medical packs they had brought along.

At the same time, Tuk’s small hand tugged insistently at your wrist. “Come on!” she whined, pulling harder, clearly unimpressed with Norm’s timing.

“Go on, Tuk’s orders seem pretty non-negotiable,” Kate teased.

Brian sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about us, we’ll just do all the real work.”

You gave them an apologetic look, lifting your free hand in surrender. “I owe you one,” you said.

Kate gave you an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head as if this was the greatest betrayal she had ever suffered. “Oh, sure,” she drawled. “Abandon us for the tiny one. Unbelievable.”

Brian just smirked, shrugging. “Honestly, I’d take a hyperactive child over sorting medical kits with Norm any day. You’re the one missing out.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I’ll remember that when you’re the one getting dragged away next time.”

Kate rolled her eyes but waved you off. “Go on, then. Have fun doing whatever she has planned.”

Tuk huffed impatiently, pulling at your wrist again. “Hurry up!”

You laughed, finally giving in as you let the Na’vi girl lead you away, casting one last glance over your shoulder at the others. Norm was already muttering something under his breath, clearly not thrilled about being ignored, while Kate and Brian reluctantly made their way toward him.

Yeah. You definitely owed them one.

*

The next few hours passed in a blur of laughter, teasing, and the ever-present energy that came with being around the Sully siblings. You sat with Tuk near the stream, sifting through a collection of colorful shells and smooth river stones she had gathered earlier. Every few minutes, she’d hold one up for your inspection, her excitement palpable.

“This one!” Tuk announced, thrusting a particularly iridescent shell into your hands. “It’s perfect for the center of my necklace!”

You turned it over in your palm, watching how the light shimmered across the surface. “It’s beautiful, Tuk,” you said warmly, handing it back to her. “Are you making this for someone special?”

Tuk huffed dramatically. “For me,” she declared. “I have to look good if I’m gonna be a warrior, right?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Of course. Every warrior needs a good accessory.”

“Look!” Tuk declared proudly as she turned back towards you after searching something behind of the pile of her treasure, holding it up with both hands. The bow was beautifully crafted, the smooth wood polished to perfection, with intricate carvings along its length—Na’vi designs you immediately recognized. The craftsmanship was unmistakable.

Tuk noticed your touch and grinned. “Neteyam helped me!” she beamed. “He said that if I want to be a warrior one day, I need a real bow, not just a tiny one.”

Your fingers traced the delicate engravings absentmindedly. You could practically picture him working on it, carving each detail with careful precision, smoothing the wood with practiced hands. He had helped Tuk make this. He had poured time into it, ensuring it was something she would treasure.

You smiled, warmth filling your chest. “He did a good job. It’s beautiful.”

Tuk puffed up, standing taller as she ran her hands along the string. “It’s strong, too. He made me promise to train every day.” She mimicked drawing an arrow, her stance wobbling slightly. “I’m going to be the best warrior ever!”

Lo’ak scoffed playfully. “Tuk, you’re not even fifteen yet.”

“I don’t care! I can still train,” Tuk shot back, sticking her tongue out.

You chuckled, but even as you listened to Tuk chatter about her future warrior status, your eyes flickered around the village, searching, hoping for a glimpse of him. He had to be around somewhere, right? You hadn’t seen him all day, and even though you knew you weren’t supposed to need to see him, you couldn’t help it.

Lo’ak, who had been watching you with an amused smirk, finally spoke up. “He’s not here.”

You turned your head toward him, narrowing your eyes. “I wasn’t looking for him.”

Lo’ak smirked. “Sure. That’s why you’ve been glancing around every five minutes.”

Kiri grinned, joining in. “He’s with the new warriors up at the Hallelujah Mountains. Some of them have their iknimaya now.”

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. It made sense. The iknimaya was one of the most important rites of passage for a Na’vi—bonding with an ikran was a crucial step toward adulthood. But that didn’t stop the faint pang of disappointment from settling in your chest. You hadn’t seen him since the morning he brought you back to the outpost. Since then, you’d been preoccupied with lab work, and he probably had been buried under even more responsibilities.

“After your little nighttime adventure, Dad’s been piling on extra work for him,” Lo’ak continued, grinning as he leaned back on his hands. “He told Dad he was at the Tree of Voices alone, but even with that excuse, he still got loaded with extra duties. You know, as punishment. Said something about ‘keeping his focus where it belongs.’”

Kiri sighed. “Not that he complained,” she added. “He just took it. As usual.”

You stiffened slightly at that. Damn it, Jake. Of course, he didn’t know the full truth—Neteyam had only told him he had been at the Tree of Voices alone. Still, Jake hadn’t bought it completely.

Lo’ak shot you a knowing look, his smirk widening. “You miss him,” he taunted, his voice sing-song.

You exhaled sharply, your patience wearing thin. “Lo’ak—”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “No, no, it’s cute,” he continued, his tail flicking with amusement. “You’ve been sneaking glances all afternoon like maybe he’ll appear out of thin air just because you will him to.”

Your grip tightened on Tuk’s bow as you leveled him with a glare. “Lo’ak, I swear to Eywa, I will hit you with this bow.”

Lo’ak let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching his chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Kiri snorted. “Oh, she definitely would.”

Tuk giggled, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. She leaned in closer, holding up her bow like she was assessing its weight. “If she doesn’t, I will.”

You gave Tuk an approving nod. “That’s my girl.”

Lo’ak groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Great. Now you’re corrupting my baby sister.”

“You mean our baby sister,” Kiri corrected with a smirk.

Lo’ak rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He knew better than to fight both of you at once.

Despite the teasing, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming fondness for them. You may not have been born into their world, but they made space for you, treated you as their own. Kiri’s sharp wit, Lo’ak’s relentless mischief, Tuk’s boundless energy—it all felt like home in a way you never expected. Maybe you were different, maybe you weren’t Na’vi, but with them, you never felt out of place.

*

The sun was beginning its slow descent when Kiri grabbed your hand, her excitement barely contained. “Come on, I have something to show you,” she said, practically dragging you back toward the village.

Lo’ak groaned from where he was lying on the grass. “What now?”

“Something actually useful,” Kiri shot back, rolling her eyes. “Not that you’d care.”

Lo’ak grinned, unfazed. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun with your leaves and pastes.”

You chuckled, waving him off as you followed Kiri. Tuk trailed behind for a few moments before running off toward a group of children her age, leaving you alone with Kiri as she led you toward the Tsahik’s tent.

“I’ve been working on something new, and I know you’ll want to see it.”

You didn’t hesitate, knowing exactly what she meant. Despite the countless differences between humans and Na’vi, one thing had always remained true—you loved learning about their ways, their knowledge of the land, the way they understood nature in a way that science could never fully explain.

As you approached the Tsahik’s tent, the warm, earthy scent of dried herbs and crushed leaves filled the air. You had been inside before, but it never failed to amaze you. The tent was lined with woven mats, baskets overflowing with medicinal plants, and bundles of dried flowers hanging from the ceiling.

Mo’at was already there, seated with the quiet authority that came so naturally to her. She looked up as you and Kiri entered, her sharp eyes assessing you for a moment before she nodded in acknowledgment.

“Kaltxì,” Kiri greeted her, settling beside one of the workstations where a few wooden bowls of mixed ingredients were set out. “I was telling her about the healing salve I made.”

Mo’at hummed, her fingers working deftly as she sorted through a pile of dried roots. “Then show her,” she said simply, her voice calm but expectant.

Kiri eagerly gestured for you to sit beside her. You lowered yourself onto the woven mat, your scientist’s curiosity sparking as you took in the various natural remedies laid out before you.

“I know you like learning about this stuff,” Kiri said with a smirk, glancing at you. “I swear, you watch the healers like they’re performing magic.”

You rolled your eyes playfully.

The scientist in you loved studying the plants of Pandora, mapping their properties, comparing them to what little Earth-based knowledge you still clung to. You loved observing, learning. And Kiri, with her deep connection to Eywa and the living world around her, was the best person to learn from.

“This is the one,” Kiri said, pulling a small, round container from a woven satchel. She popped off the lid, revealing a thick, deep green paste inside. “It’s made from yomio leaves and tsawke root. The mixture is really strong for wounds—helps them close faster and reduces swelling.”

You leaned in, inspecting the salve closely. “What’s the base for it?” you asked, reaching out but stopping yourself before touching it.

Kiri grinned, loving your interest. “Crushed yomio leaves, mixed with rendered fat from a syaksyuk.” She pointed to the paste, swirling her finger lightly through it. “The fat helps preserve it longer so it doesn’t spoil, and it also makes it easier to apply.”

You hummed thoughtfully, cataloging the information in your mind. “Do the leaves have to be fresh, or can they be dried before you make the paste?”

“They can be dried,” Kiri replied, “but fresh is always better. The potency fades a little once the leaves start to dry. Mo’at always says the best medicine is made from plants that still have Eywa’s breath in them.”

At that, Mo’at finally spoke, her voice even but carrying the weight of experience. “A plant loses its strength when it is no longer connected to the earth,” she said, glancing between you and Kiri. “That is why we gather them carefully and use them with purpose.”

You nodded, absorbing her words. “That makes sense. On Earth, some plants retain their properties even when dried, but others lose their effectiveness almost immediately.” You glanced at the salve again. “Where do you usually gather the yomio leaves? Does location matter, or are they the same no matter where you find them?”

Mo’at studied you for a moment before gesturing toward a bundle of dried plants hanging nearby. “The strongest grow near the eastern riverbend,” she said. “The water is rich there, the soil full of life. The ones from the higher cliffs are weaker, thinner.”

You nodding. “So the environment affects the potency. That’s fascinating. I wonder if it’s the mineral composition of the soil or if it has to do with the surrounding plants—maybe something in that region encourages better growth.”

Kiri rolled her eyes, but her grin betrayed her amusement. “You really can’t turn off the scientist part of your brain, can you?”

You laughed, shrugging. “I like understanding how things work.” You turned back to Mo’at, tilting your head slightly. “Does it change the way the salve is made? If the leaves are weaker, do you use more of them to compensate?”

Mo’at’s lips quirked just slightly at the corner—amusement, perhaps, or approval. “Yes,” she said simply, reaching for a large wooden mortar near the fire. “Come,” she instructed, patting the woven mat beside her. “Try.”

Kiri handed you a bundle of fresh yomio leaves, their scent sharp and slightly citrusy. “You have to crush them until they turn into a thick paste,” she explained, gesturing toward the massive mortar.

You eyed the size of it warily. It was Na’vi-sized, carved from thick wood, the pestle nearly as long as your arm.

You set to work, gripping the pestle with both hands and pressing the leaves into the mortar’s base. The first attempt barely bruised them. You frowned, adjusted your grip, and tried again, putting more force behind it.

The pestle slipped, nearly knocking into the side of the mortar.

Kiri snorted. “Oh, this is going to be fun to watch.”

You shot her a glare. “I’d like to see you do this with human-sized tools.”

She grinned, but Mo’at, ever patient, simply gestured for you to continue. “Use your weight,” she advised. “Not just your arms.”

You adjusted your stance, planting your feet more firmly. This time, when you pressed down, the leaves gave way under the pressure, releasing a burst of fragrant oil. Encouraged, you kept going, grinding them into a thick, deep-green paste.

After several minutes of struggling, you finally managed to get the consistency right. You sat back with a huff, pushing stray strands of hair from your mask. “Eywa help me,” you muttered, inspecting your work. “How do you guys make this look so easy?”

Mo’at peered into the mortar, then gave a small, satisfied nod. “Good,” she said simply, reaching out to smear a bit of the paste between her fingers, testing its texture. “Strong.”

Despite the effort it had taken, you felt an odd surge of pride at her approval. Mo’at did not give praise lightly.

Kiri nudged you with her elbow. “See? Not bad for a human.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, wiping your hands on a cloth. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe I’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

Mo’at handed you a small wooden jar, indicating for you to scoop the paste inside. As you carefully transferred it, you felt her gaze linger on you. Not cold, not disapproving—just assessing.

Perhaps she wasn’t as resistant to humans as others believed. She wouldn’t say it, but you could tell she was watching, observing how you and Kiri worked together, how you listened, how you tried.

And maybe, just maybe, she was starting to see that you weren’t just one of the humans. You were something else.

You shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the satisfied smile from forming. Learning was something you had always loved, and today had been no different. Even in the heart of the Omatikaya, surrounded by their traditions and their knowledge, you found yourself fascinated—drawn deeper into their world. And despite everything, it felt... natural.

*

Kiri, ever the enthusiastic teacher, grabbed a woven bowl and pulled it toward the center of the mat. She reached for a bundle of dried herbs near Mo’at’s side, carefully selecting a few leaves and roots. “So, you saw how the yomio leaves react when crushed into a paste,” she began, stirring the mortar’s remnants with her fingers. “But what happens when we prepare them differently?”

Mo’at, listening silently until now, reached for a small clay pot filled with oil and poured a small amount into a wooden dish. “Water and oil do not carry medicine the same way,” she explained, her voice steady and full of quiet wisdom. “Some plants release their healing properties into water. Others, like tsawke root, need oil to draw out their strength.”

You leaned in, fascinated. “Why is that? Is it because of how the compounds break down?”

Kiri hummed in agreement as she plucked a small, wiry root from the bundle and dropped it into the oil. “It’s because some plants have their power in their juices, but others… the strength is locked in their fibers. Water pulls from the surface, but oil seeps deeper.”

You watched intently as the root began to darken in the oil, its reddish hue leeching into the liquid, staining it a deep amber color. The scent changed too—richer, more pungent, almost spicy. Kiri swirled the dish lightly, tilting it so you could see how the oil thickened as it absorbed the plant’s essence.

Mo’at motioned for you to take another root and place it into a dish filled with water instead. You did as instructed, watching how the root barely changed at all. The water clouded slightly, but it didn’t pull the color or scent in the same way the oil had.

“So for something like tsawke root, an oil base is better for making salves,” you murmured, thinking aloud. “Because it extracts more of the medicinal properties.”

“Yes,” Mo’at confirmed, nodding. “And oil will keep longer than water. No rot. No spoil.”

That made sense. Water-based mixtures would spoil quickly without preservatives, but oil-based infusions could last much longer. You made a mental note of that, filing it away for later.

Kiri reached for another plant, one with soft, rounded leaves that had been drying in bundles around the tent. “Now, watch this,” she said, plucking a few of them and crushing them between her fingers before sprinkling them into both oil and water.

The reaction was immediate. In the water, the leaves darkened, releasing a greenish tint, but they remained mostly intact. In the oil, however, they crumpled further, almost dissolving into the liquid, their edges curling as they infused it with color.

“Their healing properties are weaker,” Kiri explained, “but they still help with pain when mixed right.” She glanced at you with a knowing grin. “And they smell better than some of the stronger ones. That’s why they go into balms.”

You reached out, dipping your finger into the oil mixture and rubbing it between your fingers. It was slick and fragrant, earthy with a hint of spice. “It feels different too,” you noted. “Thicker, heavier.”

Mo’at, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke again. “Yes. The oil holds the medicine in place, keeping it on the skin. Water will wash away. Oil lingers.”

It was all so methodical, yet deeply intuitive. The way they worked with the plants wasn’t just about science—it was about understanding the nature of each one, the way they interacted with their environment, how they behaved under different conditions. You found it endlessly fascinating, the blend of tradition and practical knowledge that Mo’at and Kiri carried with them.

As you were about to ask another question, the tent flap burst open, and a blur of motion barreled toward you.

“Tuk!” Kiri yelped as the girl nearly knocked into her.

Tuk, breathless and grinning, bounced on her heels. “They’re back!” she exclaimed, excitement bubbling in her voice. “The warriors! They came back from the Hallelujah Mountains!”

Your heart stuttered in your chest.

Neteyam.

You blinked, suddenly forgetting all about the herbs and their properties. Mo’at gave Tuk a mildly disapproving glance but did not scold her. Kiri, however, rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her younger sister’s excitement.

“You could’ve just said that normally, Tuk,” Kiri sighed, but there was amusement in her voice.

Tuk ignored her, turning to you instead. “Come see! You have to come!” She practically bounced in place, her hands reaching for yours.

Your fingers twitched slightly. He was back. You hadn’t seen him in three days, and the anticipation suddenly coiled tight in your stomach.

Kiri smirked knowingly at your hesitation. “Oh, come on,” she teased. “You’re definitely coming. We know who you’re looking for.”

You shot her a look but didn’t deny it.

Tuk, impatient as ever, tugged on your hand insistently. “Come on!” she whined.

With a deep breath, you rose to your feet, brushing off your hands. The past few days without Neteyam had already been too long, and your heart was already racing at the thought of seeing him again.

“Alright,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Let’s go.”

*

As you stepped outside with Kiri and Tuk, the air buzzed with excitement. The village was alive with movement—Na’vi gathered in small clusters, their voices rising in cheers and joyous laughter as warriors returned, most of them with ikran circling above them. Families and friends celebrated, embracing those who had successfully completed their Iknimaya.

Kiri let out a pleased hum as she scanned the sky. “Looks like a every one of them passed,” she observed, watching the newly bonded warriors dismount from their ikran. Their faces shone with triumph, their bodies still bearing fresh scrapes and bruises from the harsh test of earning a flying companion.

Tuk bounced beside you, clapping her hands. “They did it!” she giggled, pointing toward a group of younger warriors who were being showered with praise.

Your heart thumped against your ribs as your eyes flicked over the returning figures, searching—no, longing—for one in particular.

Where is he?

Before you could voice the question, you felt a strong grip on your arm.

“Alright, lovebird,” Kate’s teasing voice cut in, pulling you back to reality. “Come on, you’re getting that dreamy look again.”

You barely had time to react before she dragged you away from Kiri and Tuk, weaving through the crowd toward where Norm and the others were gathered.

“Kate—” you protested, glancing over your shoulder one last time, hoping to catch a glimpse of Neteyam.

“Nope,” she cut you off, her grip firm as she pulled you along. “You can make eyes at your warrior later. Right now, you’re reporting back to the team like the rest of us.”

Brian glanced up as you approached, lifting an eyebrow. “Ah, she returns. How was your very productive day?”

Kate smirked, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Oh, you know, while we were slaving away, our dear scientist here was out watching the sky, lost in thought.”

You shot her a glare, but it lacked any real venom. “I was not just watching the sky,” you defended, though the warmth on your cheeks betrayed you.

Kate leaned in slightly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Mmm, sure. Not staring at a certain soon-to-return Na’vi warrior, then?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you love me,” she quipped, nudging you playfully before turning her attention back to Norm and Max.

You sighed, stealing one last glance toward the open clearing where the warriors were returning. Your fingers twitched at your sides, itching with anticipation.

You could wait a little longer.

Maybe.

*

The datapad screen glowed dimly in your hands, the soft hum of village life around you blending into the background as you carefully logged the medical supplies Norm dictated. Your fingers tapped methodically over the touchscreen, cataloging everything.

“Alright,” Norm murmured beside you, scanning over the inventory. “We’re making good progress, but we should start wrapping this up soon. We need to head back before it gets too dark.” He tapped his own screen, checking the remaining tasks. “We still have a couple more things to go over, but we should be done in a few hours.”

You nodded absentmindedly, half-hearing him. Your focus had already begun to drift—your fingers still moved over the datapad, but your eyes had locked onto a figure in the distance.

Neteyam.

He was standing near the central clearing, his posture relaxed but ever-composed, talking with one of the warriors who had returned from their Iknimaya. He must have just gotten back himself, his braids slightly tousled by flight, his skin still faintly glistening from exertion. The golden light of the setting sun played against his deep blue skin, highlighting the strong contours of his shoulders, the ripple of his muscles shifting beneath the intricate woven cummerband he wore. His tail flicked lazily behind him as he shifted from one foot to the other, the easy confidence of his stance utterly captivating.

Gods, how could someone be so beautiful?

You exhaled slowly, watching as he gestured slightly with his hands while speaking, his long fingers moving gracefully, his four-fingered hands so unlike your own. His presence was effortless—commanding yet natural, like he was a part of Pandora itself. And you loved to watch him. To study every detail as if you could carve the image of him into your mind permanently.

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck. You knew you shouldn’t stare, but it was impossible not to. It had been three days since you last saw him, three days since you had felt the warmth of his hands on your waist, since his lips had ghosted over your skin with whispered words that still echoed in your mind. Now, here he was, so close and yet so far, completely unaware that you were here.

“He doesn’t even know she’s here,” Brian murmured in a low voice beside Kate, and you barely registered the way your friends had begun to whisper.

Kate snickered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think she cares. Look at her.”

You blinked, snapping your eyes away from Neteyam, your fingers tightening slightly on the datapad. You shook your head once, sharp and deliberate, as if willing yourself back to the present. With an exhale, you forced your focus back onto the screen in front of you, resuming your typing as though nothing had happened.

Don’t be obvious. Don’t bother him. Don’t make this harder for him than it already is.

Because this wasn’t like the nights you had stolen together in the lab, when you could be as close as you wanted. This was the village. And here, only his siblings and your human colleagues knew about what you shared with him. If anyone else found out, it would only make things harder for him.

You swallowed the ache that settled in your chest. You wanted him, wanted to be near him, but you also knew better. This was his world. You wouldn’t make it more complicated for him, even if it meant keeping your distance. Even if it meant pretending not to see him.

You tried to focus on the datapad. You really did. The text on the screen blurred as you logged the last of the salves, but your fingers moved automatically, your mind hopelessly elsewhere.

Hopelessly on him.

Your gaze flickered up again, unable to help yourself. Just a quick glance, just for a moment—you told yourself. He was still talking with the warrior, standing in that infuriatingly perfect way he always did, his tail swayed lazily behind him, curling subtly every now and then, the bioluminescent dots along his back shimmering faintly in the warm light of the evening.

You sighed inwardly, dragging your eyes back down to the datapad—only to glance back up again a few seconds later.

Pathetic, you scolded yourself.

But this time, something was different. Your breath hitched as you caught movement near him—Tuk had appeared, bouncing with excitement, tugging on his arm. Neteyam automatically leaned down to her level, listening patiently as she whispered something conspiratorially into his ear.

You smiled fondly at the sight, watching as he nodded along to whatever she was saying. But then—Tuk turned, her hand extending outward. Pointing.

At you.

Your stomach dropped.

Time slowed as Neteyam’s golden eyes followed her direction.

Straight. To. You.

Your brain stalled, panic flaring instantly.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit—

You did the worst possible thing you could do in this situation. You looked around like a dumbass, as if there could possibly be anyone else in the vicinity that Tuk might be pointing at.

As if there was anyone else Neteyam could be looking at.

Your wide eyes darted left. Right. As if the trees or the handful of other humans in the village could somehow be the intended targets of his attention. Maybe he’s not looking at me—maybe—

But then you saw it.

The exact moment Neteyam registered your pathetic attempt at playing dumb. The exact moment amusement flickered over his face.

He shook his head once, slow and deliberate, making his braids sway over his shoulders, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your face burned.

He knew.

He knew you’d been watching him.

You didn’t need to hear his voice to know exactly what he was thinking.

Caught you staring again, ma yawne.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him, diving back into the datapad like your life depended on it. Kate and Brian exchanged glances before looking at you expectantly, but you ignored them, determined to pretend none of this just happened.

But deep down, under all your mortification, you felt the warmth spread through your chest.

Because even after all this time—after three years of falling for him, after becoming his secret lover, after knowing his touch, his voice, his kisses—just one look from Neteyam still managed to unravel you completely.

*

Neteyam approached slowly, his long strides easy and unhurried as he made his way toward the small cluster of humans. His gaze flickered to you briefly, warmth lingering in his golden eyes, before Tuk, practically vibrating with excitement, bounced around him, already tugging on his arm.

"Neteyam!" Tuk beamed, gripping his fingers as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "How was the Iknimaya? Did you see any big ikrans? Did anyone fall? Did you have to help someone? Tell me everything!"

Neteyam chuckled, ruffling her braids affectionately. "Slow down, Tuk. One question at a time, okay?"

But she didn't slow down, not in the slightest. "Were they scared? Did everyone pass? What about you? What did you do?!"

He let out a soft exhale but answered patiently, the same way he always did when it came to her. "Yes, everyone passed. Some of them were scared, but they were brave." His voice carried that steady, unwavering confidence that made your stomach flutter, even when it wasn’t directed at you. "And no one fell, Tuk, I promise."

You couldn't help but listen, even as you tried to focus on the datapad in front of you. His voice was like gravity, pulling you in whether you wanted it to or not.

But then Tuk changed the subject.

"Oh!" she gasped suddenly, tugging on his hand again. "I showed her my bow! The one you made for me! And she loved it!"

Your fingers paused over the keypad, and you glanced up from the screen just in time to see Neteyam’s ears flick up, his expression shifting with quiet amusement. His gaze found yours again, this time lingering, as if he was waiting to see your reaction.

You pressed your lips together, biting back a smile, and turned back to the datapad, determined to not let him see how much his attention affected you.

But he was watching you.

You could feel it.

His warm gaze settled on you as you worked beside Norm, like he was studying you just as much as you had been studying him moments ago. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, and it took every ounce of restraint in your body to not squirm under the weight of it. You wanted to be close to him. So bad.

You forced yourself to type. Focus. Focus. Do not look at him. Act normal.

The other scientists greeted Neteyam, and he responded in kind, raising his hand and offering them the traditional "I see you" gesture, his fingers pressed together as he inclined his head in quiet respect.

And then, to your horror and delight—he walked toward you.

Your fingers stilled completely when you noticed his large frame moving closer.

Then, as he always did in the lab, he crouched down beside you, bringing himself to your level with that same effortless grace.

You turned your head slightly, your breath catching when you met his eyes.

Neteyam's gaze was steady, warm, filled with something quiet and unreadable. He was so close. Close enough that you could see every delicate detail of his face—the intricate bioluminescent freckles dotting his skin, the sharp yet soft angles of his features, the slight part of his lips as if he wanted to say something but was waiting for you first.

And Eywa, you wanted to throw yourself at him.

To run your fingers through his braids, to press your face into the warmth of his chest, to feel him again after days of aching for him.

But you couldn’t.

Not here. Not in front of everyone.

So instead, you smiled. A soft, small thing, laced with all the affection you couldn’t put into words at that moment.

And he smiled back.

It was a subtle curve of his lips, barely there—but you saw it.

You knew that smile.

It was the same one he gave you when he was holding you in the dark, when his hands mapped the shape of your body, when he whispered things against your skin that made your head spin.

You exhaled quietly, grounding yourself before speaking. "You made it back in one piece."

"Of course, I did," he murmured, his voice carrying the slightest hint of amusement, his eyes not moving from yours. "Did you doubt me?"

You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Maybe just a little."

He huffed out a soft chuckle, shaking his head before his gaze dropped briefly—to your lips, then back to your eyes.

It lasted only a second.

But you noticed.

And you knew, without a doubt, that Neteyam had missed you just as much as you missed him.

“You guys look like you bit into a lemon,” Kate whispered, her voice dripping with amusement.

You shot her a sharp glare, but she only grinned wider, clearly enjoying your struggle to stay composed. It didn’t help that Brian was quietly smirking beside her, glancing between you and Neteyam like he was watching a live drama unfold.

You ignored them. Instead, you looked back at Neteyam, your gaze softening despite yourself. Happy to see him again.

He was so close, crouched beside you, golden eyes warm and unwavering. You wanted to reach out, to let your fingers map out the places you had kissed before. But instead, you tilted your head slightly, forcing a teasing smirk to your lips.

“Shouldn’t the future olo’eyktan be celebrating with the new warriors?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t that part of your whole ‘leader of the people’ thing?”

Neteyam hummed, tilting his head slightly as if considering it, but then his lips curved into a slow, lazy smirk, his tails swaying side to side happily. “Never,” he said smoothly, his voice dropping into that deep, velvety timbre that sent a shiver down your spine. “Not when the most interesting being is here.”

Your stomach flipped.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes to mask the heat creeping up your neck. “Flattery, huh? I thought you were above that, mighty warrior.” Eywa, how did he do that? How did he manage to say things so easily, so naturally, like he wasn’t completely unraveling you from the inside out?

His tail flicked idly behind him, his amusement barely concealed. “You wound me,” he murmured, placing a hand dramatically over his chest.

Neteyam watched you carefully, studying your reaction like he was memorizing every twitch of your expression. Then, as if sensing your thoughts, his voice softened. “Since when have you been here?” he asked, his tail flicking lazily behind him.

Your heart clenched at the realization, and you softened immediately. “Since this morning,” you admitted, watching the way his jaw clenched slightly, like the thought of you being so close yet out of reach bothered him. “We came with Norm to check on the medical supplies.” You paused, then smirked playfully. “Not that you would’ve noticed. You were too busy climbing floating mountains.”

You exhaled, finally able to answer, but as you opened your mouth, you noticed something in his eyes.

Sadness.

A quiet kind of disappointment.

He was frustrated. Frustrated that he hadn’t been able to see you all day.

Neteyam huffed a small laugh, shaking his head, but before he could respond, a voice called out from the other side of the village.

“Neteyam!”

You both turned toward the source of the voice—a young warrior waving him over. The celebration was still going strong, the newly bonded riders surrounded by their proud friends and family.

Neteyam exhaled through his nose, a very put-upon sigh, his ears twitching slightly in annoyance. He didn’t want to go.

You smirked at him, tilting your head teasingly. “Come on,” you teased. “Your duty is calling.”

Neteyam let out a quiet, dramatic groan, but there was amusement in his golden gaze as he slowly rose to his full height, towering over you once more.

And just as he stepped past you—

Thwap.

His tail flicked out, playfully slapping the side of your mask.

A startled laugh burst from your lips as you reached up instinctively, swatting at nothing but air. “Neteyam!” you half-scolded, half-laughed, shaking your head.

He only smirked over his shoulder, his golden eyes full of mischief as he walked away. "See you soon, syulang," he murmured, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you smiling like a complete fool.

And as you watched him go, warmth bloomed deep in your chest.

You had missed him.

*

The next few hours passed in a blur of work, conversation, and the occasional distraction—mainly in the form of Tuk.

She would dart over every so often, her small hands grasping onto your arm as she chattered about something seemingly mundane but infinitely endearing. One time, it was about how she and Kiri had found a new kind of insect near the river. Another time, she excitedly showed you a rock she had found, claiming it looked just like an ikran’s wing. And at one point, she even plopped down beside you, her large Na’vi eyes studying the datapad with intense curiosity.

"How do your fingers move so fast?" Tuk asked in awe, watching as you typed, recording the final pieces of data into the system.

You chuckled, your fingers pausing for just a moment to flex them dramatically. "Years of practice," you said, tapping the screen one last time. "When you have to type reports as often as I do, you get fast."

Tuk hummed thoughtfully, resting her chin on her hands as she leaned against you, peeking at the screen. "It looks like you're talking to the pad," she mused.

"In a way, I am," you admitted, your lips curling into a small smile. "This is how humans keep records. We don’t have memory sharing like you do with Eywa, so we have to write everything down."

Tuk scrunched her nose. "That sounds hard."

You laughed softly. "Sometimes it is."

Tuk stayed with you as you worked, her presence a welcome distraction. She would ask you small questions, tell you little stories, and at some point, she began absentmindedly playing with the strap of your mask, tugging it gently as she murmured to herself about something or another. You didn’t mind—it was nice to have her here.

Still, even with Tuk’s chatter filling the air, your gaze would involuntarily flick towards him.

Neteyam.

He was with the other warriors, standing tall among them, his frame impossibly strong, impossibly perfect despite the clear exhaustion clinging to him. Maybe no one else noticed, but you did. The slight droop of his ears, the way his shoulders weren’t held as taut as usual, the brief moments where he would exhale just a little slower than before.

He was tired.

And of course he was—he had been at the Hallelujah Mountains all day, guiding the younger warriors through their Iknimaya. And now, after all of that, he was still here, still standing, still listening as others spoke to him, still carrying the weight of expectation on his shoulders.

You marveled at him.

At how he made exhaustion look so breathtaking.

At how, even now, he looked like he had been sculpted by Eywa herself—a warrior through and through, but still, somehow, entirely yours.

"You’re staring again," Tuk whispered beside you, her voice full of teasing mischief.

Your eyes widened slightly, snapping back to your datapad as you cleared your throat. "No, I’m not," you muttered quickly, typing a little more aggressively than before.

Tuk giggled. "Yes, you are," she sing-songed, nudging you with her elbow. "You always stare at my brother like that."

You gave her an exaggeratedly stern look. "I do not."

Tuk grinned, her little tail flicking behind her. "Uh-huh.”

You groaned, shaking your head as you turned your focus firmly back onto the datapad. But despite your best efforts, your eyes still betrayed you, flickering back toward him one last time.

And for a brief second—just a second—Neteyam turned his head slightly, as if sensing you, as if feeling your gaze.

You quickly looked back at the screen, pretending to be deep in work, pretending like you hadn’t been admiring him for the past five minutes.

Tuk snickered.

And all you could do was pray that Neteyam hadn’t caught you this time.

*

The last hour had been a blur of work, subtle glances, and the occasional burst of laughter, all thanks to Tuk.

Somewhere along the way, you had surrendered to her latest demand—braiding your hair.

You sat cross-legged, letting her weave her small hands through your locks as she hummed to herself, completely immersed in her task. And if that meant keeping your head down and avoiding Neteyam’s gaze, then it was a win-win. Because Eywa help you, every time you felt his golden eyes flick in your direction, your face burned hotter than the Pandoran sun.

It was ridiculous. You had been together for months now—three years if you counted the years you had been hopelessly in love with him—but now, every single time he looked at you, you blushed like a fool.

And Neteyam?

He knew it.

You could see it in the faint smirk that pulled at his lips each time he caught you looking away too fast, in the way his tail flicked slightly when your cheeks turned pink. The man enjoyed it—enjoyed watching you fall apart under his gaze.

It was infuriating and entirely unfair.

Tuk, blissfully unaware of your turmoil, suddenly leaned back, clapping her hands together. “Done!” she chirped excitedly.

Before you could process what she had done to your hair, Neteyam walked up to you again.

Tuk beamed up at him, bouncing slightly on her toes. “Look, look! I did her hair!” she announced, motioning toward you like you were a masterpiece she had just finished sculpting.

Neteyam’s golden eyes softened as he took in your appearance, his lips twitching up as he studied Tuk’s handiwork. Your long hair had been intricately braided with small woven beads—Na’vi-style—and you had to admit, it felt strangely nice, comfortable, as if the hairstyle belonged on you.

You reached back and flicked your braid over your shoulder dramatically, grinning. “From now on, I am an honorary Omaticaya,” you declared, throwing yourself fully into Tuk’s enthusiasm.

Tuk giggled, clearly proud of her work. “Yes! Now you can’t leave! You’re one of us!”

Neteyam chuckled, crouching down next to you, his eyes drinking you in. “Not bad, Tuk,” he mused, giving his sister a small nod of approval before looking back at you, his gaze lingering. “It suits you.”

Your heart stuttered at the way he said it—low, soft, like a secret meant just for you.

Before you could respond, Norm’s voice cut through the moment. “Alright, that’s it for today.” He stood, stretching his arms above his head before looking toward the sky. The sun was already dipping below the horizon, casting the village in a warm, golden glow. His expression darkened slightly. “We need to head back before nightfall.”

Tuk’s ears twitched at his words, and before you could even stand up, she grabbed your hand.

“Nooo, wait!” she whined, holding onto you with surprising strength. “She has to stay a little longer! I still have to show her something.”

Your heart squeezed at the desperation in her voice, and Eywa help you, you found yourself looking at Norm with pleading eyes, despite already knowing exactly what his answer would be.

Norm’s jaw tightened. “Tuk—” Norm exhaled slowly, clearly conflicted. You knew he hated when humans stayed outside after dark—for good reason.  Tuk, the little menace, squeezed your hand tighter and gave Norm the biggest, roundest, most innocent eyes she could muster.

“Pleaaase, Norm?” she begged sweetly.

You almost laughed. The poor man didn’t stand a chance.

“I will bring her back later,” Neteyam interjected smoothly, his voice calm and steady, but Neteyam’s presence changed things. Neteyam, who was nothing if not responsible, who never let anything happen to you, was a different story.

Still, Norm didn’t answer right away. His gaze flicked between you and Neteyam, and you could practically see the calculations running through his head.

Finally, Norm sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he muttered. “But—not too late.” He turned his gaze to Neteyam then, his expression serious. “Bring her back safely.”

Neteyam nodded once, solemnly. “Always.”

Tuk let out a cheer, pulling you forward before Norm could change his mind.

And just like that, you were staying.

*

Your stomach twisted slightly as all eyes turned toward you. It wasn’t hostile—at least, not entirely—but it was still undeniable that you were an outlier here.

The entire clan was gathered around the fire, their massive forms crouching or sitting as they shared their evening meal. The soft glow of the flames flickered over their deep blue skin, casting warm highlights on their faces, illuminating their intricate bioluminescent markings.

This was their space, their world, and you had stayed past the time you were supposed to leave.

Jake was watching you with interest, his gaze flickering from you to Neteyam—like he was considering something. But what really made you uneasy was the sharp, disapproving look on Neytiri’s face. She didn’t speak, but her piercing amber eyes said enough.

You felt your nerves spike, every part of you screaming that this wasn’t your place.

Just as you started to back away, Tuk’s hand gripped your wrist, tugging you toward the family like she hadn’t just unknowingly pulled you into a tense, silent war zone. You glanced back nervously, expecting Neteyam to stop this—to step in and tell Tuk you should go—but when you met his gaze, his golden eyes were steady, calm in a way that made your chest tighten.

"Don’t worry," he murmured, his voice warm and reassuring.

You swallowed hard, trying not to panic, but you could feel your heart pounding against your ribs. Neytiri’s stare was like a blade, and Kiri and Lo’ak—who were sitting next to their parents—were failing miserably at hiding their amusement.

You couldn’t be here. This wasn’t your place.

"Tuk," you whispered, desperately trying to reason with her as she dragged you closer to the fire, toward her family. "I should go. I can’t be here."

Tuk, oblivious to the tension, just tightened her grip. "Don’t be silly," she chirped happily. "You’re already here! And you have to sit with us!"

Great. Fantastic. Wonderful.

Panic coiled tight in your stomach as she forced you down to sit beside her, right at the edge of the family’s circle. You barely registered the warmth of the fire as you snuck another glance at Neytiri, who had not stopped watching you.

Jake finally leaned forward slightly, tilting his head toward Neteyam. "So... what’s the deal here?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.

Neteyam didn’t even flinch. "She stayed behind with Tuk," he answered simply, his voice even.

Jake hummed, and you tried not to die on the spot.

Before you could even attempt to make a hasty escape, Tuk practically shoved a rather large purple fruit into your hands.

"Taste it!" she said eagerly. "It’s the best fruit ever!"

You blinked, glancing down at the fruit before throwing a glance toward Neteyam, silently pleading for an answer.

Is this even safe for humans?

Neteyam raised an eyebrow at you, clearly amused, but then his ears twitched slightly—his version of a shrug.

"Not that I would know," his expression seemed to say.

Your stomach sank even further.

This was a terrible idea.

*

You inhaled sharply, bracing yourself as you held your breath and pulled down your mask.

The fruit in your hands was a deep, almost unreal purple, the color seeping into the flesh beneath its thick peel. You turned it in your fingers, examining its smooth, glossy surface, your mind automatically trying to compare it to something familiar—but there was no fruit on Earth that looked like this.

You hesitated for a second longer before finally taking a cautious bite.

The moment the fruit burst on your tongue, a shockwave of flavor hit you all at once. It was sweet, but not cloying—tangy, almost citrusy, yet rich and velvety at the same time. The texture was unlike anything you’d had before, somewhere between a ripe mango and honeyed nectar.

You barely had time to process it before your lungs screamed for air, and you hurriedly snapped your mask back into place, sucking in a deep breath as the aftertaste lingered like a dream on your tongue.

Eyes wide, you turned to Neteyam first, then to Tuk, stunned.

"Woah," you breathed, your voice slightly muffled by your mask. "That’s literally the best thing I’ve ever eaten since I got to Pandora!"

Tuk beamed, bouncing slightly. "I told you!" she chirped, looking immensely proud of herself.

Across the fire, Lo’ak let out a loud laugh, his sharp teeth flashing in amusement. "Damn," he chuckled. "She looks like she just saw Eywa herself."

Kiri smirked, nudging him with her elbow. "Guess human food really is as bland as we thought," she teased.

Even Jake was grinning, his sharp eyes twinkling as he leaned back on his hands. "Didn’t expect that reaction, kid," he admitted, chuckling.

You turned back to Neteyam, flustered, but his golden eyes were already on you, soft, amused, and something else—something warm that made your stomach flip.

He didn’t say anything, just watched you with that knowing look, like he’d been waiting for this moment—watching you experience something new in his world, something that made your eyes light up.

The only one who wasn’t amused was Neytiri.

She said nothing, her face unreadable, though her sharp gaze lingered on the fruit in your hands for a second too long before flicking back to Neteyam.

You swallowed hard, suddenly acutely aware of where you were.

This wasn’t your place.

And yet…

When you looked back at Neteyam, his eyes hadn’t left yours.

For just a moment, the firelight flickered between you, and nothing else mattered.

*

The meal slowly came to an end, the soft murmur of conversations fading into the crackling of the fire as the clan settled into a more relaxed rhythm. You carefully finished the last of the fruit, the process tiring but worth it—pulling off your mask, taking a bite, then quickly putting it back on before your lungs protested for air. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you managed, the sweet taste lingering on your tongue.

Tuk was practically glowing with happiness, her hands clasped together as she rocked excitedly on her knees beside you. "You spent the whole day with me!" she beamed, her tail swishing behind her in delight. "And you liked my fruit! You have to come back so I can show you more!"

You smiled warmly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I’d love that, Tuk."

But before you could say anything else, Neytiri suddenly appeared, her presence looming like a storm cloud. You barely had time to react before Tuk was practically pulled away from you, Neytiri’s firm hand grasping her daughter’s shoulder. She didn’t say a single word to you—didn’t even glance in your direction—but the message was clear.

You were not welcome here.

The warmth of the moment vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold tightness in your chest as you sat there, watching as Neytiri led Tuk away.

Lo’ak and Kiri exchanged knowing glances, their amusement from earlier dying down, though neither of them seemed particularly surprised.

Neytiri’s sharp disapproving gaze flickered toward Neteyam as she walked past, her expression unreadable but heavy with meaning. A silent warning.

But Neteyam didn’t flinch.

He met his mother’s gaze with calm, unwavering confidence, his shoulders straight, unyielding—a silent message of his own. When she finally disappeared into the shadows, you let out a slow, shaky breath, suddenly feeling the weight of the entire evening pressing down on you.

You turned to Neteyam, whispering softly, "I should go back. I already made things awkward."

Your voice was barely above a breath, but Neteyam heard you.

His golden eyes searched yours, something flickering behind them—something unreadable, something deep. Something like want…

But he didn’t argue.

He just gave you a slow, knowing nod before standing, his tail brushing against your side as he turned.

"Come," he murmured, his voice steady and warm. "I’ll walk you back."

*

You followed him through the forest, the air still warm from the lingering heat of the day, but the cool night breeze carried a soothing calmness. Above you, the sky was drenched in stars, endless and vast, stretching beyond what your eyes could comprehend. The bioluminescent flora of the forest glowed in soft blues, purples, and pinks, casting an ethereal light on everything around you. The ground beneath your boots pulsed faintly with life, every step awakening the natural world.

You had walked through this forest countless times before, mostly on his side, but somehow, it never stopped being mesmerizing. And maybe it never would.

Neteyam moved effortlessly ahead of you, his tall frame almost blending with the living, breathing world around him. The sway of his tail, the way his broad shoulders shifted with each careful step—it was like he was part of the forest itself, the embodiment of Pandora’s wild beauty.

You marveled at how different he was from you. So much taller, so much stronger—his long limbs moved with quiet power, his ears flicking at the distant sounds of nocturnal creatures. And yet, for all his strength, he was gentle.

He turned slightly, his golden eyes catching the glow of the plants, making them look even brighter, more alive.

"You’re quiet," he murmured.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. "I’m just… taking it all in," you admitted, your gaze drifting to the glowing vines that curled around the trees. "It still amazes me. The way the forest comes alive at night."

Neteyam tilted his head slightly, his expression soft. "You look at it like you’re seeing it for the first time."

"Sometimes it feels like I am," you whispered, reaching out to brush your fingertips along a bioluminescent fern. The soft light pulsed beneath your touch, responding to the contact. "I don’t think I’ll ever stop being amazed by this place."

He hummed softly, a deep, thoughtful sound, before his gaze flickered toward you again.

"I’m sorry I stayed," you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I shouldn’t have. It was awkward. Your mother practically killed me with her stare."

Neteyam exhaled sharply, not quite a laugh, but close. "Tuk wanted you there," he said simply, his voice calm and assured. "So it was okay." He hesitated for a moment before adding, a little quieter, "And… I wanted you there too."

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth blooming in your chest at his words.

You glanced at him, watching the way his ears twitched slightly, as if unsure how you’d respond. But you didn’t know what to say. Because you had wanted to be there, too—with him, with his family, with the people who mattered most to him.

The sounds of the distant village still echoed behind you—laughter, the soft murmur of voices, the faint melody of a song. But as you and Neteyam continued walking, the sounds began to fade, replaced by the quiet symphony of the forest.

Neteyam’s pace was slow, deliberately matching yours.

You glanced up at him, still marveling at his height.

When he stood beside you, his palm could easily rest against the back of your head. You barely reached his waist—a fact he never teased you for, but one that was always so obvious whenever you stood next to him like this.

And yet, despite the sheer difference in size, you never felt small next to him. Never felt fragile.

Just… his.

You swallowed, keeping your eyes on the path ahead, trying not to let your thoughts drift too far. But it was difficult when he was this close, when his scent surrounded you, when you could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

And knowing that he wanted you there, just as much as you had wanted to be there…

Eywa, he made it so hard to keep your composure.

*

The night air was cool against your skin, a contrast to the warmth radiating from Neteyam beside you. You continued walking in silence, the distant hum of the village now completely gone, leaving only the symphony of the forest—soft rustling leaves, the distant call of night creatures, and the bioluminescent glow illuminating the path ahead.

And then—he stopped.

You barely had a second to react before Neteyam suddenly crouched before you, bringing himself to your level. His golden eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath hitch. Before you could say a word, his large hands slid around your waist, engulfing you completely, his fingers spreading wide over your ribs as if he needed to feel all of you at once.

A small, startled squeak escaped your lips as he pulled you closer, and before you could gather your thoughts, his nose pressed against your neck.

A slow, deep inhale. Then another.

His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"You know how hard it was not to touch you?" he murmured, his voice low, rough, and full of restraint.

Your heart stuttered, your fingers instinctively sliding up his muscular arms, feeling the tension there—the barely controlled want.

Your hands traveled further, moving over the ridges of his strong shoulders, stopping at the place where his neck met his shoulder. Slowly, almost unconsciously, you caressed the skin there, feeling the heat of him, the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.

He let out a slow exhale, his grip tightening just slightly before his lips brushed against your neck.

The soft press of his mouth against your skin made you melt into him, your body molding against his as your breath hitched.

Eywa. You missed him.

Missed his touch, missed the way he could make you unravel with just a whisper, a kiss, a look.

Your fingers dug slightly into his shoulder, your body responding to him before your mind could catch up.

"Neteyam..." you whispered, not even sure what you wanted to say.

But he just hummed against your skin, pressing another slow, deliberate kiss just below your jaw, as if memorizing the taste of you all over again.

*

Neteyam kissed your neck slowly, savoring every second he had with you. Each press of his lips was deliberate, lingering, like he was committing the feeling of your skin to memory. His warm breath fanned over you, and when his lips parted slightly, his tongue barely grazing your sensitive skin, a soft gasp escaped your lips.

His hands were restless, sliding up your back, fingertips ghosting over your spine as they found their way beneath your top. His calloused fingers met your bare skin, and the contrast of rough against soft sent a shiver through you. He moved slowly, his hands mapping the contours of your back, exploring, claiming, and yet, worshipping at the same time.

"I missed you so much," he whispered against your neck, his voice husky and raw with emotion.

Your fingers tightened on his strong shoulders, your breath uneven, your heart pounding in your chest. "I missed you too," you murmured back, pressing yourself closer to him, your body desperate for more.

You took a few deep, shaky breath, holding it, and then—without hesitation—you pulled down your mask.

And kissed him.

It was fierce, desperate, your lips crashing into his as you poured every aching thought, every longing moment into it. Your fingers dug into his scalp, threading through his thick braids, pulling him impossibly closer even though there was no space left between you.

Neteyam groaned softly into the kiss, his large hand sliding up your back, his palm finding the back of your head, engulfing your skull entirely as he held you steady, taking everything you gave him and giving it back tenfold.

The heat of his mouth, the way he kissed you back with such intensity, made the rest of the world fade away. His fingers tightened in your hair, his other hand securing you against him, as if he was afraid you might slip away.

Time blurred. You didn’t know how long you kissed him, only that your lungs burned, screaming for air—but you didn’t want to stop.

But you had to.

With a shaky gasp, you tore yourself away, your lips tingling, your whole body thrumming with heat. You fumbled slightly, quickly securing your mask back into place, your breaths coming in heavy, uneven bursts.

Neteyam’s golden eyes were blazing, locked onto you as if he couldn’t look away. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his tail flicking wildly behind him, the tension in his body palpable.

And Eywa help you—all you wanted was to kiss him again.

*

As soon as you caught your breath, your chest rising and falling in deep, steady pulls, you pulled down your mask again. The cool night air kissed your skin, but nothing compared to the warmth of his presence, his touch, his lips.

You leaned forward, your hands still clutching his shoulders, your fingertips barely ghosting over his warm blue skin before you kissed him again.

Neteyam responded instantly, like he had been waiting for you to return to him. His hands tightened on your waist, his grip firm but reverent, like he couldn’t believe you were in his arms. His lips moved with desperation, with devotion, as though he was memorizing you all over again.

Then, you felt it.

His tail.

It wrapped around your calf, the movement slow, deliberate—possessive. A silent claim. The soft brush of it against your skin sent a shudder down your spine, heat pooling deep in your stomach.

The kiss deepened, and for a fleeting moment, nothing else existed.

But then, the air in your lungs thinned again, your body demanding oxygen. With a soft sigh of reluctance, you pulled away, your lips still tingling as you quickly secured your mask back into place.

As you breathed, your hands moved on their own, gliding along his shoulders, tracing the sculpted lines of his collarbone, until finally, your fingers reached his jawline.

You caressed it gently, your thumb brushing over the strong, angular lines of his face, your heart swelling with something so deep, so overwhelming that it almost frightened you.

A soft, breathy laugh escaped you as you whispered, “You are so perfect.”

Neteyam exhaled sharply, his golden eyes searching yours, his ears flicking at your words as if they physically affected him.

His tail tightened slightly around your leg in response, his hands still holding you close as his lips curled into a slow, reverent smile.

“Not as perfect as you, ma yawne,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his forehead leaning against the glass of your mask, unwilling to let you go.

*

Neteyam pressed his head back against the crook of your neck, his breath slow, controlled—yet you could feel the tension in his body, the way his fingers dug into your waist as if he were trying to mold you against him, to make sure you wouldn’t slip away.

His deep inhale sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin, making you weak in his hold. His hands were desperate, firm, as if anchoring himself to reality through you, through your touch, your scent, your very presence.

He was lost in the sensation.

So lost that he didn’t even realize he had started pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck.

Your soft sighs only urged him on.

His lips traveled lower, savoring the way your skin reacted to him, the way you melted in his embrace. And then—his sharp teeth grazed you, a teasing scrape before he sank them into your skin just enough to leave a mark.

Your gasp was soft but sharp, your fingers tightening where they still clung to his shoulders.

“Neteyam...” your breath hitched, the words barely a whisper, but it was enough to make him pause.

His ears flicked, and when he pulled back slightly, his golden eyes were heavy-lidded, his pupils blown wide as they flickered from your parted lips to your fingers gingerly pressing against the mark he had just left.

A lovebite.

A visible claim.

Your eyes widened slightly as you whispered, “Everyone will see this...”

You weren’t scolding him. No, your voice lacked any true protest. It was soft, breathy, more like you were stating a fact—one that sent a bolt of heat through your veins.

A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of Neteyam’s lips. He didn’t look the least bit apologetic. If anything, he looked proud. Still holding you close, he reached for your wrist, his fingers wrapping gently but securely around it as he brought your hand closer to his lips.

His golden gaze softened as he turned your hand over, brushing his lips against the tender skin just above the bracelet he had given you months ago.

“Good,” he murmured against your skin, his voice deep, full of certainty.

The word sent a shiver through your body, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You swallowed, watching him through half-lidded eyes, your breath shallow as you felt the heat of his lips linger on your wrist.

Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh now, securing you even closer as his golden eyes flicked back up to meet yours.

His expression was something unreadable, a mix of possessiveness, longing, and something deeper—something unspoken.

And all you could do was stand there, trapped in his gravity, in his warmth, in him.

*

Neteyam closed his eyes, a slow exhale leaving his lips as he kept your hand in his grasp. His fingers, large and warm, cradled your smaller palm as though it was something fragile, precious.

Without a word, he guided your hand to his cheek, pressing it gently against his skin, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground.

His breathing was deep, slow, controlled—but only just.

You could feel the way his jaw clenched beneath your palm, the way his muscles tightened slightly under your fingers. But then he sighed, a deep, contented sound, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders just by feeling your touch.

The warmth of his skin, the contrast of his blue complexion against your human fingers, was mesmerizing. The bioluminescent freckles on his cheekbone glowed softly beneath your touch, shifting subtly with every breath he took.

And then, in a voice so low, so raw with emotion that it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered,

"You don’t know how much I want you."

Your breath caught in your throat.

The sheer honesty in his words, the quiet desperation, the way his ears flicked slightly back, the tension in his shoulders despite his relaxed posture—it was overwhelming.

Your thumb, acting on its own, brushed softly against his cheekbone, tracing the faint ridges of his skin. He shuddered under your touch, his grip tightening just a little around your wrist as if to keep you close, to make sure you wouldn’t pull away.

The weight of his confession settled between you, thick with unspoken longing.

You could feel it in the way he held you, in the way his tail curled around your leg possessively, in the way his breathing deepened as if trying to steady himself.

And Eywa help you, because you wanted him too.

More than anything.

Part 17: Soon

Should I write boombaya scene or not?

[perfectlovevn]

Perfect Love Devlog #52

I haven’t posted dev logs recently though I do have a perfectly good reason which is that my dad is currently borrowing my drawing laptop to practice for his interviews so I haven’t been able to draw any sprites. So instead I’ve been writing a bunch of stuff, but that’s kinda boring to talk about and it doesn’t make for good screenshots so that’s what’s going on.

What you see above is what I call the undertale fun value. Basically the idea is that each game will get a randomized scene for one of their extra scenes that it will choose out of 10 different scenes. This is mostly just an extension of the regular extra scenes you see and this is mostly because as everyone knows I love Easter eggs lol. Unlike the normal extra scenes I tried to focus more on having the various side characters interact (though there are a couple with Milo). This is also to incentivize sharing the game with others I guess because sharing is caring? I have no idea really just look up undertale fun value and you’ll get an idea of what I was going for. This is also just to see if I can make the randomization for Renpy work.

Anyways this is just a sneak peak into one of the 10 scenes you can get. This one is probably the most comedic out of the current ones I’ve written. I still need to make about two more and then finish writing two.

[sakebytheriver]

Once had a sitcom writer/improv teacher tell me he didn't like Community because "it didn't have any jokes" and like at the time I did not have the proper vocabulary to tell him why he was wrong but also sort of right

Like the point of Community was not to be a sitcom that told jokes and made gags and had characters who spouted witty one-liners at each other (in fact they actively satirized that part of the genre with characters like Magnitude), it was about being in character and being funny while doing it

Dan Harmon has even stated that the point wasn't to "be funny" but to be "in character" and have the ways those characters work against each other be funny, using the ways their different personalities and established characterization and familiarness to the audience watching them all come together to tell the "jokes" and make the audience laugh, citing the exchange where Pierce asks Jeff if he likes to be excluded and Jeff screams at the older man "Yes!" He would very much Love to be excluded as an example of this particular brand of comedy. The "joke" coming from an in character response established from the pilot episode about Jeff not liking other people and wanting to appear above such needs as companionship, unlike Pierce who will expend all of his energy in usually very unhealthy and unproductive ways into finding exactly the right way to manipulate the world into including him, things that would not be known outside of the context of where that scene appears in the series and just how much we've come to know these characters at this point and would therefore make it practically impossible for the exchange to be a short and sweet funny joke that can be removed and divorced from the context of the show, in the same sense that other jokes from similar sitcoms can be taken as standalone quips

The comedy of the show arises not from "telling jokes" but from telling a story about characters who happen to interact with each other comedically

[justanotherurl-not]

Hey is it gay if your bro stares intensely into your eyes?

[halohearted]

[krenenbaker]

Trick or Treat~!

Pairing: Che'nya x Floyd (could be read platonically or romantically)

Summary: It's finally Halloween night, but Floyd is in a bit of a slump. However, the arrival of a curious companion may just make the Halloween party a bit more interesting for him.

Notes: This is my first attempt at something following a prompt - specifically, "Trick or Treat" for the 2023 TWST Rarepair Halloween event. I'm trying to get more comfortable/practiced with writing prose (which is why this wasn't posted on the 30th... oops), and only vaguely ended up following the prompt. I'm fairly happy with how this little piece turned out, though!

Tags: @dove-da-birb, @azulashengrottospiano, @inkybloom-luv, @eynnwwyjth, @officialdaydreamer00 (please let me know if you'd like to be included or excluded from future writing of mine, or only want to be included in specific types of creations)

Floyd wanted to take a break. 

It was Halloween, and all he had done the entire week was work, work, work. Getting costumes ready, decorating, helping with their dorm's presentation, plus cooking and serving at the Lounge, all on top of normal classes? 

Sure, it was fun, especially getting to show off Octavinelle's cool setup, and 'taking care of' those misbehaving visitors. But now? Everything felt draining and boring, and Floyd simply wanted to leave, which sucked because the actual Halloween party had just started!  

Maybe he should just ditch and go back to his dorm; being in a funk when everyone else is having fun around you is not enjoyable.  He slumped down on a bench and unwrapped a sweet he had picked up earlier, before wrapping it up again. Ugh, not even in the mood for that candy he wanted only a few minutes ago. 

As he shoved the sweet back into his pocket and was about to get up from the bench to leave, Floyd heard a rustle behind him. Someone was quietly humming, and… laughing? The sound gradually moved to his side, towards the empty side of the bench.  

“Trick or treat~”

Floyd turned to face the voice. "Listen, man, I'm not in the mood to—” he froze, staring at the figure beside him. “Hang on a second, where's your body!?"

A toothy smile came to the face of the head that currently floated beside Floyd. "Oh, it's here.... or maybe it's there." A pair of hands materialized on either side of this boy's head, followed by the rest of his body. 

“I'm just kidding. Mind if I take a seat? I’d like to rest up before I keep purrowling around and startling people.”

Floyd blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Uh, go for it.” 

This guy was... weird, and it was hard to tell if he'd be annoying, or interesting. "You don't go here, do ya? At least, I’ve never seen you before. And you’re no ghost, either.”

The cat-like boy shook his head, his jewellery jingling softly. "I'm just passing through for the festivities and collecting treats. Scaring some people, too. That’s loads of fun. And it's always nice to see my friends let loose." 

Floyd had a vague memory surface. "Ohh... you must be that RSA boy who's friends with Sea Turtle and Goldfishie." 

"'Sea Turtle' and 'Goldfishie', hey? Those are good names for my green and red friends. Cats are known for liking fish." He leaned forward, his grin growing. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Floyd nodded, “Floyd Leech. It's nice to meet you, too.” He looked curiously at the boy beside him, taking in his shaggy hair, piercings, and impish smile.

"You're not what I expected.” Floyd smiled, "But you seem fun, Catfish. I didn't think Goldfishie would get along with someone so... interesting."

Che'nya's eyes lit up slightly. "Catfish? Heh heh heh, most people call me Che'nya, but I guess that works. And I’ve heard some… interesting stories about you, too."

He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back with his arms behind his head as he sighed. "But yeah, I don't think Riddle could shake me if he tried." 

"I'm almost jealous." Floyd tipped his head slightly. "Most of the time, Goldfishie likes to swim away before I can play with him."

Che'nya laughed, "Well, if you're wondering, he 'swam off' that way." He pointed off to the side. “Just don’t be rough with him. I don’t like people mistreating my friends.”

Floyd looked off into the crowd where he had pointed, and let out a small laugh. “Alright, good to know. Maybe I’ll find him later, if I feel like it”, he smiled and sat back. “And Goldfishie’s stronger than he looks, but I guess you’d know that.”

Che’nya nodded, then leaned closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I bet we could do something that would really surprise him.” 

Floyd turned slightly towards Che’nya, and flashed a smile. “Yeah, we probably could. I think we should talk more in the future, Catfish. You seem pretty fun.” 

Che’nya grinned, “You seem pretty fun, too.”

"Well,” he stretched his arms above his head. “I think I’m going to go and find some more treats… and play some more tricks tonight. I'll catch you around, Floyd." 

With a haunting giggle echoing in his ears, Floyd watched as the boy beside him faded into nothingness, just the same way he had arrived. 

What a weird guy.

Floyd unwrapped the candy he had pocketed earlier, then popped it into his mouth. Maybe this party was worth staying at after all.

[sukibenders]

Intersectionality is something that, sadly, is often pushed to the side in Arcane discussions, specifically from a certain side of that fandom. They will go on and on about Viktor, as they usually do, talking about how he suffers from classicism and ableism within the show and fandom respectively (as they should as these are issues, but there is a catch when it comes to these fans as well), but when others in the fandom, especially Mel or even Sky fans, point out the racism and misogyny (misogynoir) that is often rampant in this fandom, particularly from said fans mentioned prior, all of a sudden its not possible or being overdramatized. Like they suddenly can't understand how some of their rhetoric includes or invites the same thing black fans have been calling out since the beginning, because how can you discuss the ableism and such that Viktor faces, but laugh or joke around with people who call Mel slurs or just denounce her to a trope? I thought you were for calling out forms of hate within fandom, or does your "activism" only stretch so far? And back to a previous statement, about the catch regarding those particularly fans----some of them regurgitate the same harmful rhetoric towards Viktor that they say they supposedly hate, just in mode subtle ways. How are you going to say you hate when Viktor is infantilized, but will be quick to forget he's a grown man who can defend himself (often when trying to pair him against Mel, framing her as the aggressor, and sometimes even Jayce too but to a lesser degree)? Not saying Jayce doesn't get equal amounts of hate, but his more so gets pushed aside along with his character to ultimately frame Viktor in higher regard, often making him ooc. It's like they pick and choose when the issues are prevalent, and when they aren't, and it's so frustrating.

[creatively-cosmic]

fuck with me

fuck with meeee

im trying to do different sprite styles and sizing down full drawings to make a base is so fucking dumb looking. christ. also ace not looking like they havent slept in days feels illegal.

on another topic god seeing other pokepasta blogs interact with each other lately has been so fun. i really wanna do that sometime soon... it certainly wouldnt be canon but i havent gotten to see stuff like that circling around since my time in the daily pokemon community! though maybe its just cus of the blogs that i follow that im seeing it now hajnsljkns

[mars-ipan]

they're so GROSSSSSS (<- desperately wants what they have)

alt color under the cut:

[hermitcraftx]

just got a dm abt one of my posts and y'all please don't try and show the hermits (or any minecraft youtuber or content creator for that matter) my posts, i'm uncomfortable with it and don't want any of my posts shown to a cc. if they stumble upon it naturally that's unfortunate but i can live with it since i do maintag a lot (something i REALLY need to stop doing tbh i already know i need to make a tagging system just for my blog that wont clog results) but going out of ur way to show a cc is entirely different and something i am not comfortable with.

no hate to the person at all but even if i wasn't a little silly and weird with it sometimes i wouldn't be comfortable with it, i want my blog to be a purely fandom only space with none of the creators involved <3 please respect this

[waywardsalt]

i think elden ring will always be my favorite game in terms of environment. every area is so impressive, even the copy-paste stuff manages to be impressive with atmosphere, and the amount of just. stunning-looking locations is wild especially with how natural even the most amazing looking shot you can find is.

just the fact that you unavoidably see this when you walk into leyndell is incredible. one of my favorite environment views in all of the games ive ever played

[tarot-the-silly-one]

tma au cool lighting things :D

alina and kyro belong to @mayyak

[moinsbienquekaworu]

If I didn't already have multiple drawings I want to finish I'd start a series of Constant interacting with their companions. I already have ideas and everything!!

[s0ngsandstars]

I actually have to write this idea because there's no fics of it that I could find so heyo guess I'm doing it.

[eebie]

i need to draw more yaoi yuri girlyaoi boyyuri etc......