#I'd love to see more photos from this session someday
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mizgnomer · 10 months ago
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David and Georgia Tennant
Photographed for The Telegraph by Kristina Varaksina
Promoting Staged Season 3
"The more time we spend together the more we get on" - [ link ]
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victorbutnotreally · 4 months ago
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OMG I'M FINALLY FINDING A BLOG WHICH IS MY CUP OF TEA. YOU'RE AWESOMEEEEE
i have an idea but i can't write for shit, so i'll give it to my favorite tumblr writer (which is youuu)
smau where han messages the wrong number and it's some guy from like another country. and they become friends and then han comes to find out that his text pal is actually a celeb he fanboys over.
(bonus points if mn knows han as well)
OMG - Han Jisung x Male Reader
A/N: Love that!! Thank you sm for requesting <3 (I can't title things for the life of me, so you can ask for a different title in the replies and I'll change it) French music makes writing so much more fun.
warnings: slight swearing
blue {} - han purple {} - Mn
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{Oh. How nice of this person to wish me a good practice session.
"Is he getting here anytime soon?" Minho's voice echoed through the practice room.
"I'll ask!"
When he opened his phone again to change the number, he saw a familiar figure in the random person's profile picture. Mn Ln. Finally, someone who he can rant about the Mn Ln. }
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{ Great. Got my hopes up for nothing }
{ Naturally, Mn wouldn't want his personal number leaked. So he lied. He was surprised at how smooth that was, but hey, it's text. He wanted to know more, though. Is that narcissistic?
He set his coffee mug down on his nightstand and looked a lot more like a contortionist as he continued to text, the risk of spilling coffee being gone now. }
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{ Being called the best vocalist ever was certainly not something he expected. He was great, sure, but the best? Not when Freddie Mercury has music out there. But he'll take that compliment.
He was impressed at the fan. 'Achilles, my love" was one of his more niche songs, having been written when he was only 15 when he got completely shattered after reading 'The Song of Achilles' and decided to pour his heart and soul into a song which he released years later.}
{They don't know Mn yet, but who wouldn't like him after listening to Achilles my love? The way Jisung made the members listen to Mn's music was like a little kid making their parents watch Frozen. But the members never complained, the music was really good. Would they roll their eyes when Jisung keeps sending Mn memes into the groupchat? Sure. Did they have certain parts of certain songs memorized because Jisung kept watching his edits on repeat? Oh yes. }
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{Mn didn't want his identity leaked. He had to think of a name quick. Chris, as in Bang Chan from Stray Kids was what came to mind. }
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At the Paris Fashion Week
{Jisung found a spot away from the cameras and was texting 'Chris'. After a few months of them being 'text pals', he was pretty fond of the random citizen. But despite the sheer amount of songs, pictures, and videos he's sent of Mn, 'Chris' was never as obsessed with him as Jisung was.}
{Holding a glass of champagne in his hand and dearly missing his coffee, Mn who was decked head to toe in Hermes, makes his way over to the figure he recognized as Han Jisung of Stray Kids. How he loved that band. He was listening to Han's song 'Volcano' on the way there. As he goes to talk to him, his eyes caught onto the rapper's phone screen. And by instinct, he accidentally read a few texts. Texts that were from him. He wanted to tell Jisung, but how?}
"Hi! Huge fan, Jisung.." Jisung's eyes widened as he shoved his phone into his pocket and extended his hand for a handshake. It was his first time seeing his favorite singer in real life.
"Oh my god...you..sorry, I'm just flustered all of a sudden. I'm your biggest fan, really."
"I appreciate it. We should collab someday." "Yes!!" Was that too loud? No, right?
Mn was endeared by the enthusiasm. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and unlocked it.
"Care for a selfie?"
"I'd love to.." Jisung tried keeping his voice from sounding too loud and excited as he smiled beautifully in the selfie he took with the singer. He took one on his phone as well, along with a photo of just Mn, not being able to resist the opportunity.
A/N: I'm ending so abruptly since I have really bad writer's block rn and I didn't even know how I posted this much. If you have any ideas on how Jisung finds out he's been texting Mn all this time, then let me know in the replies or send a DM.
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askinkiskarma · 1 year ago
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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍����𝕀: 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙
Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader
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synopsis: You and Neteyam finally confront each other, after a seven year war that left you broken and bruised.
warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death, confrontation, admission of feelings), smut, strong language.
wc: 7k words
a/n: we're almost at the end, besties. i want to say a massive thank you for being patient with me, i have struggled with writer's block for a while now, and my life is incredibly hectic at the moment, but thank you for continuing to inspire me to write this story that has come to mean so much to me :(. i hope you enjoy this chapter, that i once again somehow feel weirdly insecure about hahaha, and i hope you'll find it was worth the wait. also this is only mildly proof read bc i am exhausted and i need to sleep ;((( i'll come back to it in the morning i promise x (also pls someone comment on the fact in the photo vi's looking up and he's looking down cause you know - rise and fall together and all)
pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!
na'vi compendium: txepvi  - spark, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tewng - loincloth, tsakarem - tsa'hik in training, yawne - beloved
: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)
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I carved my name into your ribcage We talked of lands away from this cage
"Dad always talks about Earth as if it was a dying hole, but... I don't know."
Neteyam's head was positioned snugly in your lap as you both stared intently at the sky, trying to make sense of the shapes of clouds, and the way they passed you by like birds in the night sky, never to be seen again, just a memento of the present and how every moment was unique and precious, and needed to be cherished. You both loved doing that, in between practice sessions, or before, or after, a way to ground you and remind you there's still beauty in this world outside of what you were being taught, of how everything was in preparation for a grisly reality you both struggled to come to terms with.
"Yes?"
"The little videos we've seen, of the movies and shows Norm and Max and the other humans like to watch... and the books they make us read during English lessons and the music... it doesn't seem that bad, you know? It seems they were happy, and... good. It seemed they lived for more than just fighting and greed, more than this."
You thought about it for a while. He was right. Humans were... beautiful, in their own ways. They had love and heart and soul in a way you never thought possible - it seemed there was always beauty to be found even in the darkest of corners, even in the most unsightly of places, and that gave you hope.
"I want to be more than this, too."
Your eyes snapped from the sky to him, and his eyes met yours, boring into you with a vehemence that almost scared you. When he rose from his spot, he faced you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning over you, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the proximity and the way his smile always managed to take your breath away.
"I want to know more than this. I will learn, and I will work hard, and I will fight, but Vi, one day, you and me, we'll be free of this. Free to do whatever we want, free to spend our days like the humans in the movies, just happy and ourselves. Wouldn't you like that?"
"Yes. I'd like that."
You said, don't fret love, someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free Oh, but darling, did you mean Darling, did you mean free from me?
“O’i’en…” your voice was hoarse and barely there, a croaking whisper you hardly recognised as your own, but still there. You were still here, and at least for that, you were grateful. Because there was more to your life. So much more you wanted to do and see, so much you felt you were made for and deserved, so much you still have to repent and atone for. Your mind was scrambled with visions of your past, so many of them you’ve lost count, the continuous onslaught barely ceasing as you woke, and you still felt like in a liminal state of being, not quite dead, but not quite alive, either. In those dreams, images of your old Neteyam were intertwined with his face now, much colder, much wiser, somehow even more beautiful, and confessions of “I love you” mingled with hushed whispers of “why is she not awake yet?” and commotion beyond your understanding. You needed answers. The battle, that now felt like a lifetime away to you, also somehow felt like it had just finished, and you rose from your spot with only one thought in mind: Oare was hurt. She was shot, and you needed to find her. 
You wondered if it was fate, or Eywa's doing, that O'i'en was the first person you ran into, even as you were trying to avoid any semblance of another soul, the guilt and sadness mingling in you with flashes of worst-case scenarios, ones in which your distracted mind led to deaths that you will forever carry on your shoulders, that you will forever blame yourself for, that you were sure other people would, too, ones which you were too scared to prove and too spent to disprove, so you settled for ignorance and denial, at least until you found your ikran.
"Oh, Eywa, you're alive!" you were taken aback by his surprise, and by his pure, unadulterated relief and happiness as his eyes found your form, limping and bruised, with bloodied and torn garments and yet still... alive. You didn’t think O’i’en would ever want to see you again, much less acknowledge you or talk to you, but here he was, running, as much as he could, the gash in his leg preventing him from any true momentum, but still, he ran to you and enveloped you in a big hug, that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, melting into his all-too-familiar touch that’s always felt comforting and safe, and never bruising or cold.
You sighed as your mind, much as it always did, brought to its forefront another face, another body, another man that never ceased to pull you out of the moment and into whatever fantasy your mind concocted to replace reality with. As you tightened your arms around him, your palms flat against his back, you noticed your fingers being coated in warm liquid, and the feel of it, as well as the smell of metal that hit you immediately after, made you gasp and break the embrace, using whatever force you had to turn him around and inspect the wound you knew had to be bad enough, if so much blood was pouring out of it, but still couldn’t help be shocked when you were proven right. 
“Fuck, your back…”
“I know… I haven’t had the chance to go see the healers yet.” 
“You haven’t ha- are you serious right now? Come, let’s go now.” You almost forgot about the your plan to avoid people, too concerned for the ugly looking gash pulsating blood that trickled down his toned back, until it soaked in his soiled tewng. He didn’t let you move him, instead taking your wrists in his hand and holding you still. 
“You look like you’re about to collapse, how are you still so bossy? Besides… there’s people who need it more than me.” The purple twinge in his cheeks let you know this wasn’t quite the truth. Not the whole truth. O’i’en was the most selfless person you’ve ever met, and yet, this wasn’t the whole truth. You looked tired and broken, scared and forlorn, and yet, with all your might, you tried to contort your face into something you hoped resembled the way Jake would raise the hairs above his eyes in a clearly disapproving expression, and while you lacked the most important aspect of that whole stare, it clearly worked, because he winced and broke the look you shared, choosing a spot on the ground instead. 
“After… everything, I just didn’t know if I could…or should… go get help from the Tsa’hik. It feels like everywhere I look, you follow. I knew you were hurt as well, and I didn’t know if I could handle seeing you like that, or seeing you at all. But now that you’re here, I realise… I’m just happy you’re alive.”
You smiled, a small feat that felt like the hardest task you’ve ever been assigned, but still, you were glad to know there was still something salvageable about your relationship with the man you once thought you’d spent the rest of your life with. 
“Come, sit. I’ll clean the wound myself.”
“You shouldn’t-“ He stopped when he noticed your look. You were too tired to be trifled with, and he was smart enough to know that. 
You promised home, the kind I'd never known But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong
You worked in silence, as much as you could, the thoughts spiralling in your head, worse with each passing second, and although you didn’t want to ask, you knew you couldn’t avoid it any longer, not when he looked so sad and despondent, not when the gash in his back spoke to a battle fiercer than you wanted to picture, not when you couldn’t help wonder if it was all on you. With a sigh, you spoke, and watched as he went rigid with every word uttered.
“What happened, O’i’en?” 
“What do you remember?”
“Nothing. I remember falling… i remember Oare getting shot.” You wince at the memory, at how it was your unsteady, tired, distracted mind that made her a vulnerable target. 
“Nothing else.”
O'i'en's whole body stiffened, and your hand stilled midair, shivers pulsating in your body as dread enveloped it.
“What. Happened. O’i’en?” 
"After you fell... the battle... took a turn for the worse. A lot of Na'vi died, a lot of our mounts died, too..."
"The Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem tried their best, we all did, but without you and Neteyam..."
The guilt that was big enough to almost crumble you into a mess of sobs and broken shards on the ground dulled just for a moment while his words rang in your ears, echoing until they clicked, until you made sense of their meaning.
"Neteyam...? Where was Neteyam, why wasn't he fighting?"
His body turns to face you again, his barely patched-up wound forgotten in the moment that felt ever-lasting, but not like how time stands still as you're enveloped in a kiss, but like a nightmare you can't escape from, where a moment lasts hours, where every scream is expelled in slow-motion and the monsters get closer and closer with each breath that gets lodged in your dry, hoarse throat.
"He tried to catch you, but couldn't. I think he took you back to the village. He didn't return after. They say..."
"They say he hasn't left your tent since. We've all been working, trying to get everyone back, ready for the funeral, but he... he never left the Tsa'hik's tent."
"You're wrong." What he was saying made no sense. Neteyam has done nothing but wish for your demise ever since you were both nothing more than mere children. His hatred never diminished through time, and neither did yours. You both despised each other more and more each day, with every year passed, with every instance in which neither of you relented or found it in you to be better and take the high road. This whole ordeal, this whole nightmare that only started when you woke up, it was his fault. The fact that so many people died, that you were in this state, that Oare.... fuck. Oare.
“Where are you going? You need to take it easy.” 
“I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s ok, she’s probably in pain and suffering and I should be the-“
You stop when you notice his grieving grimace, his eyes fixed on the ground, tears falling at his feet, that you followed from his eyes to their demise as they splattered on the ground, the droplets hitting your ankles in the process. 
“No.” 
Silence. Dead silence. Death silence. Silence that you couldn’t help fill with a crescendo of denial, louder and higher pitched with every new attempt. 
“No, please. Tell me you’re wrong.” 
“I saw her… in the lineup.”
“The lineup?” 
“Of all the dead… dead animals and na’vi. So many of them, i lost count. She was there… I’m so sorry.” 
Your tears mingled with his own as they collapsed on your feet and on the grass, and you forgot for a second of your rule - no crying in front of people. You forgot this as you forgot everything else, even your own name pushed from your memory as it was flooded instead with images of her, of your sister, that you loved so much, that you cherished deeply, that you thought you’d be able to for the rest of your life, that you were now told was gone, taken from you, in spite of you… because of you.
“No…Oare, no…”
“She’s with Eywa now… I’m so sorry.”
You said, "Let's make ourselves our very own brigade, this love our shield, our blade" Oh, but darling do you see the cuts from which I bleed? It's me you've slain
"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"
"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"
"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."
Neteyam felt the blood drain from his face and settle at the soles of his feet, trickling through and into the ground, until he was so empty he felt faint, he felt like he would never be the same again. So many emotions tried him, from ecstatic relief that he couldn’t even explain to himself, at the fact that you were awake, and well enough to walk, to paralysing fear that overwhelmed him, at the fact you were out in your state, that you were gone Eywa knows where, at the fact he’s now going to have to face you and talk to you.
Too many things have changed in such a short amount of time, so many things he couldn’t make sense of or understand, too many revelations and the possibility of more, of the truth, that Neteyam dreaded. A lose-lose situation, his dad would call it - either he confronted you and you told him his father misunderstood, that it wasn’t true, that you too loved him the way he loved you, which meant the last seven years of both your lives, everything you have put each other through would have been for nothing, or his father was right, and having a confirmation of your lack of feelings, which is what he thought fuelled your actions all these years, which was a truth he avoided knowing for a fact for so long, and that might be too hard to bear after all.
“We have to find her, grandma said she shouldn’t be walking around.”
“I know where she is.”
He’s always known where you were when you wanted to be alone. He’s always known because it’s a place that used to be his, his secret spot, his uncharted paradise. A place that he showed to you when you were both children, and that became a safe heaven for the both of you in time, that you took from him after your unfortunate fallout. Just one more thing you ended up taking from him in time. He couldn’t have returned to this place anyway, not with all the memories of you that plagued it, that might as well have been enclosed in a room stuck in a past that he never wanted to revisit. 
It took him no time at all to find you, his mind disassociating from the walk, until it was like he blinked and he was there, in the clearing that he dreaded coming to, where the last time he came, he took it too far, the memory of the words that you spat at each other, the way his anger physically manifested itself for the first time in his life, the way he lost control of his emotions and his temper, it was all so ugly and unsightly, it hurt him even thinking about it.
Your back was turned to him as you lay on the edge of the lake, one leg dangling mindlessly in the water, and Neteyam’s heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you - your hunched shoulders, so far removed from the awe-inspiring, empowered stance you normally displayed to people. Your tail was thrashing furiously from side to side, ears pushed flat against your head that rested on your bent knee, braided hair tousled and unkept as it fell over your face, shielding you from view. Neteyam didn’t even know whether he should speak - if there was still a voice in his throat that could push sounds out, and as he tried, he heard nothing, the only sound in his ears one of muffled, panted breaths and thunderous, erratic heartbeats, that somehow drowned everything else out. 
"Leave."
Neteyam ignored your words, all of his senses focused on your voice, on the sniffles that accompanied it, and what they represented. Neteyam has seen you cry only a couple times in all the time he's known you, and not once since your fallout. He was sure you would have rather swallowed a poisoned knife's blade than show weakness in front of him. He gulped audibly when he realised that if you did, that means you knew... if you did, there was no escaping the wrath that was currently embedded in your soul, that he wasn't sure would ever leave you again.
“Why are you here? You should be resting.”
He heard you scoff, bitterness laced through your voice that normally was sweet as a yovo fruit on a summer day, that now felt spoilt, like it had been left rotting on the ground, with no one the wiser.
“Since when do you care about my wellbeing, huh? Last thing I knew I could be dead in a ditch and you’d probably throw a party and dance over my grave. Leave me be, I don't want to deal with you right now.” 
"Txepvi... Just co-"
"Don't you dare call me that. You have long forsaken the right to call me that. Just fucking leave, Neteyam."
He felt anger pricking at him like a dagger he was all too familiar with, that was dull and middling, but whose sting still hurt if pushed into his skin at the correct angle, in the right spot, where he was weak.
"I'm not leaving until you get back to the tent. Tsa'hik's orders." That was a lie, but one he felt at liberty to make, since it was quite certain his grandmother would want you back resting, and not galavanting in the woods, with a wound that almost killed you, that made you easy prey for the apex predators lurking in the thick foliage.
I didn't obliterate these walls for you to come and raid my home And here you are right next to me Ironically, I've never felt more alone
“Why did you stay with me?” 
Whatever anger he had immediately dissipated like droplets water of a hot day, replaced by the same fear that was plaguing him early, that not even the adrenaline coursing through his veins could overpower. What was he supposed to say? It's not like he had an answer to give you - he couldn't even conceptualise it for himself, much less put it into words that would make sense, that would ever satisfy your morbid curiosity.
“Answer me, Neteyam.” 
“I don’t know.” 
You rose from your spot on the edge of the lake, and when you turned to face him and your eyes locked, his breath lodged in his throat. You looked anguished, sadder than he's ever seen you, puffy eyes so red, it scared him, cheeks purple and stained, and swollen, wet lips opened to accommodate the heaved breaths and quiet sobs that you tried your hardest to push down, so that he wouldn't see.
It was too late, now. He could see. He could see it all, and it scared him, what you were doing to him, these feelings that were rushing down with enough force to make him buckle under their weight, just like a waterfall that crashed into the river below, warping it with its power.
“No, we’re not doing this shit anymore. My ikran is dead. People are dead, Neteyam. All because of us, because this stupid war, that you caused. That you started. I’m done with the games, and the mystery, and your stupid mouth staying shut. You don’t know? Figure it out. Now.”
I fell for you faster than I fell apart And I guess I'm the one to blame for letting myself fall too hard
"I don't fucking know, OK? I just needed to - fuck. I needed to make sure you'll live."
"Why?! Why the fuck would you care if I live or die? Why? You haven't cared for more than half our lives, and now, when you would have been more useful on the battlefield, when you could have prevented this mess that you caused to begin with, now you want to play the fucking hero?"
“That I started? Are you hearing yourself right now? I wasn’t the one that pushed, and pushed, and pushed until whatever thread it was that still bound us together turned from wool to steel and snapped, yawne. You made it your life purpose to ruin mine, at every turn, in every way imaginable, for years. I did nothing to you, damn it. I just stopped talking to you. I didn’t hurt you, or purposefully tried to make you ache or suffer, I tried to keep my mouth shut and go about my life, without infringing on yours. I didn’t do anything to hurt you, for fuck’s sa-“
“You keeping your mouth shut and going about your life as if your life wasn’t impermeably connected to mine was what fucking hurt me, Neteyam! You saying nothing, doing nothing, acting like I didn’t exist, like I was just a toy you outgrew, that was worse than anything I could have ever fucking done to you, don’t you understand that? Do you understand that you abandoned me? Me, Neteyam, the person who was always there for you, the person who always had your back. Your best friend, your confidant, your training buddy, your sister. I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."
"It meant everything! And my father fucking ruined it, and you ruined it. You ruined it, and I'll never, ever forgive you." the intensity behind his eyes, glistening with unshed tears that reflected the rays of the sun hitting his golden irises, the ones that put stars to shame and brought you to your knees, scared you. You came here to cry, and let it out. You came here to mourn. You didn't expect this. Didn't want this. But, for the first time in years, Neteyam was talking to you. Neteyam was telling you truths buried deep within his soul, deep behind walls you've tried to climb and pierce through longer than you wanted to admit to, and given the little crack of light you saw shine through, you knew you couldn't let this opportunity pass you by.
"What do you mean?"
He looked tired, you realised faintly. It was true... he did stay with you. His face was sunken and caved in, dark purple bags under his eyes, and you traced the tears that brightened his tanhì momentarily, as they caressed his skin, before falling down his neck.
"Tell me it's not true, what you said to him all those years ago. Tell me he didn't hear you right. That he misunderstood."
"Who?"
"My dad. I heard him... telling my grandmother that you'd never want to mate with me. Or be Tsa'hik. He said you said that. Tell me he was wrong. Tell me I was wrong for believing him. Tell me I was an idiot for not coming to you sooner, for shutting you out of my life. For letting this break me. Please."
Shock stilled you in your spot, replacing blood with current that electrified every ounce of your being. What? After all this time, so much time that kids were born and grew up, time in which you watched Tuk go from barely a babe to a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, beautiful girl, time in which you gained and lost your ikran, in which you gained a family and lost the future you thought you were always made for, next to the person you thought you'd always have your back... so much time has passed, and to hear it, the reason, was so unbelievable it didn't feel like it was real. You thought about the conversation that he was referring to, that you had with Jake in what feels like a completely life to the one you were currently living. He did ask you, and you did say...
"He wasn't wrong."
I ripped my heart out and put it in your hands in hopes that we'd put up a fight How paradoxical, since now all I can think about is when will we stop trying
You watched as the intensity on his face was decimated in an instant, his eyes blank and distant as all life seemed to drain from them as you spoke words that you spat without truly even thinking about it. Oare's death, still so fresh in your mind, hurt so much, made every fibre of your being scream in agony, and this new revelation, of the reason of her death being attributed to something you said as a little kid in passing, that he overheard and never bothered to fact-check, made what little sanity you had left to evaporate and what remained was a bitter precipitate of fury and pain, that you wanted him to feel, that you needed to inflict.
"This is why Oare's dead? This is why so many people are dead, because of one comment I made to your father seven years ago in passing? Are you fucking kidding me?"
Your teeth were bared as you spoke, and the emptiness behind his eyes was replaced with furious anger as he listened, as he realised you had no intention of putting his mind or heart at ease, as you realised he didn't deserve it. Not after everything that's happened, not after the way your soul crashed and imploded inside your body at the guilt that ate you alive, that churned and ground your bones into fine dust, guilt that will never, ever leave you.
“I was just a fucking child, don’t you understand that? Do you understand how insane it is to punish me for something that happened when I was just twelve years old?!"
“Well, you know what? I was also just twelve years old! And I loved you, Vi.” The break in his voice hurt you, like a shard of glass plunged in the soft of your skin, and you looked down to try to see if blood was coming out of the wound that wasn't there. There was nothing. Just emptiness, like the vast chasm that separated you, that always will, no matter the fact he was so close to you, you could feel his breath over your face, your scent in your nostrils, his glistening eyes big as planets, eyes you could get lost in easily, you could fall into as easily as falling asleep.
Seeing the unshed tears once more made tears gather in your own. The nickname, that you haven’t heard in all these years, that felt like a relic from a life long forgotten, long forsaken, knocked the air out of you, just as much as his vulnerability, that you weren’t used to seeing anymore did.
“I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.” 
“I had to watch you prove me right every day of my life. Watched as you fought every day to push me away from my own family, and my own dad, who obviously always found you better than me. Watched as you moved on, with no issue, and dated Na’vi after Na’vi, letting them touch you and kiss you, knowing I could see it, in practice, where I always was, I- “
“You fucking did the same thing! You pushed me away, you never talked to me. You abandoned me, without as much as a goodbye. Without any explanation. You fucked girls anywhere I could see, behind my tent, so I could hear you. You chose them all so they bore no resemblance to me, so I could know how much you hated me, every time I saw their faces. You ruined my relationship with the one person who loved me, who was good for me. You fu-"
All you do is blindside me, it's hard to be brave But when the night cuts into the day, it's your love I crave I must've thanked my lucky stars too much They left me sitting in too much dust
Your sentence was cut short by a pair of lips crashing into yours, soft and desperate, clinging on to you like his fingers were wrapped tightly around your throat, like if letting go was unimaginable, like it was too painful to envision. In your dreams, Neteyam's lips were bruising and calloused and cold, and no matter how fiercely you wanted to protest, no matter how much you hated yourself for it, they were the only lips you ever dreamt about. And yet right now, they were nothing like you imagined, nothing like you feared, and despite the hurt, and the pain and the anguish and the anger, despite it all, you couldn't help reciprocating, couldn't help the moan the left you as his other hand found your hips, holding you impossibly closer, while your own hands found the back of his neck and his hair, that you tugged on until he growled. When he broke the kiss and looked at you, hunger and ache clear in his bright eyes, that looked more black than yellow as his hand found your jaw, that he lifted to tilt your head back, pushing his thumb past your lips so you'd keep quiet, you let out a small whimper, and watched as his pupils dilated even more, almost overtaking his beautiful, molten irises.
"Just...Stop talking."
His lips found the place on your jaw where his fingers just were, and the feeling of him on you burned like molten lava, and you push your head back, giving him access to all of you. Your mind felt numb - a battle within itself as it was trying to come to terms with all the  crushing emotions that were fighting for dominion over your thoughts and your soul, each one more devastating than the last - from the guilt that you knew would plague you for the rest of your life, that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to overcome, to the grief of losing your spirit sister, to confusion over what you were doing, over wondering if this was a mistake, to the sadness at Neteyam’s confession and the knowledge he loved you, and you pushed him away without meaning to, to earth-shattering anger at the realisation that this whole ordeal started over nothing and could have been solved if he only ever talked to you and finally, to the hatred that still blossomed, even after all this time, and finally, the desire, pure, unadulterated desire to have him, to be owned, to know what it feels like to be wholly his. You didn’t know which one would win, but you could only hope there’ll still be something left of you when the battle found its victor in the midst of all the chaos. 
He was rough as he pushed you until you tipped backwards, but his caress was gentle as he caught you and made sure you weren't hurt as your body hit the damp, soft grass. When he spread your legs and kneeled in between them, you knew you whatever ounce of self-restraint you had was swiftly thrown out the window, and you knew the relief you'd get to feel once he was done with you would be worth the regret in the morning - at least, it felt so right now. His fingers dug into your thighs as they massaged upwards, from your shins to your hips, and when both his thumbs caressed the sensitive spot at the edge of your loincloth, your breath hitched in your throat, silently begging him for more, hoping he wouldn't make you say words out loud you could never take back.
As if he could hear your thoughts, he spoke, his hands stilling on the knot of your tewng.
"Tell me you want this. I need to know you want this, or I stop."
You hissed at him, conflicted beyond words and reason, because no, of course you didn't. But yes, you did. Of course you did.
"I hate you. I fucking hate you, Neteyam."
At your words, his hands dropped from your hips and in an instant, he was on top of you, his gaze stopping the breath in your lungs as he looked at you, his hand gripping your throat once more, the aggressive gesture at odds with the softness in his eyes and the way he was caressing your jaw in barely-there touches with his thumb.
"I hate you more. So much more. I still need an answer, yawne."
You stared daggers at him, and refused to talk, but as you wrapped your fingers around his cummerbund and pulled him in, until his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues, throbbing deep in you at the way he moaned in your mouth, you knew words were meaningless, and words couldn't convey the feelings that tormented you, anyway. You reached for his tewng and masterfully unwrapped it, feeling his cock spring free and slap against your abdomen, and the weight of it made you gasp, a smirk erupting from his face in response.
You needed him. You needed him to numb the pain the he created, that you created, you needed the emptiness that came from being filled to the brim, the fleeting peace that would come with the high that you knew he could provide, because it hurt. It all hurt, and you couldn't stand it. You reached your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, your slick leaving a wet patch in the fabric, that was increasing in size by the second, just at the thought of how he'd feel stretching you out. He let out a small groan at the way you were caressing him, running your thumb over the slit, smearing the precum that was leaking, that you felt a sudden urge to taste.
"F-fuck!"
"Take off my tewng, Neteyam."
"For once in your life, you will not get to dictate how this goes."
Despite his words, he listened, and you winced at the weight of his body being lifted off you, instantly missing the contact and comfort it provided. But he wasn't gone long, as he removed your clothes, and you tried not too think of how good his gaze felt on you, how empowering the desire in his eyes as he took you in, how he had to lick his lips and swallow audibly, as if he was a starved man in a desert, and you were his fata morgana.
He took no time in attaching himself to you again, the thick head of his cock prodding at your entrance, and the velvety feel of him against your folds involuntarily makes you shut your eyes closed and your head push back, need heightening at the way he starts licking and sucking at your breast, leaving purple marks in the wake of his lips and tongue, that you want on every inch of you, that you wanted to cum on as he made your knees buckle and your vision spot.
His face finds a home in the crook of your neck as he slides inside you, taking his time to feel you, every inch of your walls, as they stretched to accommodate for his size, and it feels so good, too good, his cock in you, his tail around your thigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, or gripping at your waist, his breath on your neck, his teeth sinking in you so he could stop himself from telling you all the confessions bubbling in his chest, all the ways it's all making sense to him now, that he's never hated you, he's just hated not having you, not being able to call you his. Still, as he bottoms out in you, he can't help some of them from spilling out, the dam of his heart slowly coming apart at the seams.
"It had to be someone who had no resemblance to you. It had to, Vi. Don't you understand? Because any time I looked at anyone, I saw you in them. Their eyes, or lips, their tanhì or stripes, even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."
You did understand. You understood too well. That's why you chose O'i'en. Because he was nothing like the Neteyam you came to know in the years you became an adult. Because his touch was warm and made you feel nothing. Because his eyes bore no resemblance to his, the glimmer of amber nothing like the green flickers that felt like were Eywa's inspiration for the forest that surrounded you; O'i'en's tanhì were scattered like light through the leaves and branches of the trees, unlike Neteyam's, which were like the star dust that created all life in the Universe, that shone brighter than any light post, that shone so brightly, they led you home every night when you were young.
The tears gathered in your eyes as he started a steady pace of his hips, conflicting feelings tugging at the string of your already broken and torn apart heart, whose heart beats felt dragging and echoing, different to the two sounds you were used to, instead pulsating three syllables throughout your whole body, enveloping you and taking over your mind, forcing you to come to terms with issues you thought you buried so deeply, you'd never have to see again.
I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you, I hate you....
I love you.
"Neteyam..."
"I know. You're doing so well for me. So well. Fuck, you feel so, so good."
You moan at his words, the desire bubbling inside of you quickly reaching heights you wouldn't mind falling from, being pushed from, so you could feel the euphoria that came along with falling, without having to worry about the inevitable crash that would follow, at least not right now.
"I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me, yawne. I need to feel you come all over my cock."
For the first time since he's called you that, the term of endearment didn't feel ironic or facetious, and for once in your life, you had no problem obeying his orders - when you came, you came violently, legs shaking and back arched, whimpers and moans pushing past your lips unrestrained, and the sounds made his cock twitch inside of you, his own orgasm so close he could taste it. He lets you ride your high fully before pulling out of you, thick ropes of iridescent cum painting your abdomen and chest, that, in your fucked out mind, you almost wish painted your still-throbbing walls instead.
You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me
It was almost... domestic, the way he was asleep peacefully next to you, his breath so steady and deep, and so relaxed, it almost sounded like purring, his strong, muscular arms holding you close as you lay on your back, looking at the stars, bright, blurry orbs through the distorted lens of your tears, that couldn't stop falling, no matter how much you willed them away. The crash did come eventually, in the few hours since, and it felt like it broke all your bones in the process.
"You and me, we're meant to rise and fall together."
Those words, that became the overarching theme of your relationship, words that you never realised when you spoke them as a child that you would both take so literally, rang in your ears like a broken record your mind could no longer turn off. You were right, all those years ago. Even back then, you knew. You and Neteyam did rise together. From children to adults, from pupils to teachers, from toy soldiers to hardened warriors, rose you did, until you were so high up, the air was thin and suffocating. But nothing compared to your penchant for falling. You fell hard, from grace, from cloud nine, for the other's other schemes and plots, for your own compulsions, obsessions and greedy desires, and mostly, for each other. Your relationship was fire and ice, it was everything and nothing all at once, a war you fought and a war you lost, a war in which innocents had to die and lives were lost, a war you were finally tired of.
You and Neteyam rose and fell together, over and over again, your whole lives. A twisted carousel that wouldn't stop until one of you jumped off it, and with Oare's death, and the shame that followed it, you finally realised it had to be you.
In the early hours of the morning, after a quick wash in the cold lake, you found your way back to the village and straight to the Tsa'hik's tent. You were happy to see her, and nervous to talk, but you knew the quicker you got it out, the quicker it would be over. So with a deep breath, you spoke your piece, and hoped she'd listen.
“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”
Oh, my love Is this the end for us? Maybe we've had enough
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taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch@musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt @call-me-doll-face @puresirius-things @saturniac @call-me-doll-face @dreaming-of-the-reality @whorefortim
(sorry if i missed anyone this list is getting so longgg)
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meikyuunolovers · 7 months ago
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A few weeks ago, while I was bored, I attempted to transcribe the notes on Argent's 'In Deep' album since they are almost impossible to read, and neither Discogs nor any other website provided any transcription... I could only transcribe fully Bob's and Russ', as I'm still missing words, replaced with these ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎, on Rod's and Jim's. There might be some mistakes that have escaped my eyes as well. Hopefully I can see this album in flesh and bone someday so I can figure out if I got it right.
What has pleased me more than anything has been the energy and love put into the making of the record, not only by the band and Chris, but by the engineers who by their involvement have become members of the band for a time. I hope some of the joy we had in making it is reflected in the music." - Rod
"This album has been, for me, the most enjoyable one to make because of the way in which the very different musical influences involved in the band have come together naturally and easily. We did ▪︎▪︎▪︎ ▪︎▪︎▪︎ with some conscious aims in mind, we wanted this for instance to be ▪︎▪︎ ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎ of features and ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎, we also wanted to explore more fully the vocal and instrumental potential of the band and ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎ ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎ ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎ together more closely. ▪︎▪︎▪︎ from the best track 'God gave Rock and Roll to You' a ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎ ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎ a natural course and direction of ▪︎▪︎ own, which has been what we wanted and something else besides.
"This album for me has been almost a revision course in the role of bass guitar. The songs and arrangements have allowed me to explore all my influences over the years, with a ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎ on space and underplaying, as opposed to ego-tripping. It's definitely the most satisfying and ambitious musical project I've been involved in, and the best part of it is I think we all realise we've only just scratched the surface of our potential ability back in the studio and on stage. My favourite contribution is 'G▪︎▪︎ ▪︎▪︎ ▪︎▪︎ it' on 'Rosie'." - Jim
"This album will be well remembered by me for several reasons.. at the beggining I was moving house and at the end I was still moving house !
Secondly, the day after we finished Chris' song 'Candles on the River' which is about over-population, Ricky informed me we were Pregnant.
Thirdly, the cover which was a gas to do, but so tiring. It just goes to show I can thrash drums for an hour and a half and feel just tired, but after the photo session I was absolutely shattered, mind you just try swimming under water for two hours ! Fourth, after I'd finished my contribution to the album, moving the last of my rubbish to the new flat, I managed to push a knitting needle through my arm.
Yes, right through my arm, honest ! Lastly but not leastly... for the music." - Robert
"This album is a combination of everything we've done on record up to now. It's satisfying to me in that we wrote and recorded it so quickly (two months).
Also, it's more representative of what we are on stage. Cheers." - Russ
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lewdlucidity · 2 years ago
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since it's #SmallBusinessSaturday , i wanted to share my visions & dreams for the business i'm currently working on launching 🖤
for the past year i've been gathering supplies through trades, lucky finds at garage sales, and a lifetime of collecting. now that i've got some of the bigger pieces together i'm deciding to leap into it! i'm hoping that by sharing a bit of my process that i'll find like-minded folks and people who are interested and inspired 🖤 a printing press. a small-one. a queer one. a sex positive & Disabled one. led by those whose visibility is most needed right now.
with vertical creative capabilities. from a photo studio to printing - owning our own censorship & oppression-free means of production for content creation.
printing modes to be offered:
screen printing [✔️]
film lab [ in progress - i just recently got an enlarger :) ]
small & large format multimedia digital printing [ saving up! ]
and someday i'd love to own a big ass old school printing press and something for paperback books. someday, someday.
for now this space is in my garage. i'm leaving my "day job" in about 6 weeks and will complete the space renovations to the best of my capabilities and get rocking and rolling with my own prints and commissions my February - March.
in 2023 my offerings will include themed, on-location photo + video shoots for creators one weekend per month and photo + video sessions here on site available on an appointment basis.
i'd like to enter 2024 with a space that is not my garage on the horizon with the intention of opening the space as a safe grounds for the community to make beautiful art.
this effort is the culmination of a lifetime of artistic pursuit. i have training in multiple media from college and professional seminars, as well as being an avid autodidact. photography has been an important part of my life forever - my first real machine tattoo was of a roll of film!
helping people realize and celebrate their beauty is what brings me joy. thank you for learning a little bit about how i am planning to do that in the future! how can you help? PLEASE SHARE! just getting more eyes and hearts turned towards this is so crucial & appreciated! BOOK ME! <3 i love to shoot and offer sliding scale to fellow creators. COMMENT and tell me what you think of these ideas or if you have any advice for me. SUPPORT! if anything about this resonates with you, you want to collaborate or think you know someone who does, or you're just like 'wow neat' please share! i need all the opportunities i can get. and like, every time you tip me or buy my content you're helping and that's super rad.
reach out directly:
if you'd like to invest a little something <3
to see a wish list of some stuff i need to get going
if you'd like to book or collaborate in some way
and tell me i'm not completely utterly wrong for chasing my dreams
thank you so much for reading 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
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inkprincess31 · 5 years ago
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This is one of my favorite photos from HK, where we spent Thanksgiving weekend last year.
As much as I love this picture, would you believe that it still took me more than half a year to wear my big girl panties and post it?
To tell the truth, I don't like taking photos of myself nor having my pictures taken that much. Sometimes, I'll take a bunch of selfies and delete them all. The few ones I keep, I rarely post. They're just taking residence in my phone memory eating up precious MBs.
Why? Simply because 95% of the time, I don't like what I see in them. There may be good days, and I'll be like, "My clothes seem to fit okay here." Then there are, "If I crop it just right then my huge arms won't be seen" moments. But there are days when I spend a huge amount of time cropping and adjusting, and it just won't work. So I'll just tell myself, "Who am I kidding? They see me in person. They know I'm far from skinny."
Growing up, I tried to get out of every picture-taking sessions when I had the chance. I've never been really comfortable with how I look - my hair, face, my skin and body. I've been struggling with weight issues since I was in high school, and at the age of 27, l have a terribly long list of insecurities. I've always known that I'm not pretty (not even fishing for compliments here), I'm aware my current weight is beyond what's considered normal and healthy, my skin is far from perfect and my hair barely cooperates these days.
I don't need a printed nor digital reminder of my imperfections. I see it in the mirror daily! Not to mention, I have a limited range of poses so I just end up looking awkward in most photos. 😂
But as I grow older, I realize that I have to learn accepting my flaws, see more positive things about me, try new things (No, Ate! I'm still not watching make-up tutorials!), and be more comfortable in my own skin. Either I do that, or go to the gym. (Spoiler: I'm lazy AF)
Anyway, that me in the picture? A rare appearance, I'm telling you. But I like to continue seeing myself that way. I'd like to be more carefree. Jump and not be worried about how huge my arms and thighs look. Laugh heartily and forget having to suck my tummy in, so my belly would show less. Open my arms wide instead of hugging myself and covering my thick body. I'd like to be more relaxed and comfortable taking photos, and not just get through it because it's part of the program or a trip's to-do list.
I know that there are more relevant social issues and day-to-day problems in the world that needs to be addressed. I'm also aware that in the grand scheme of things, this won't really matter, and me feeling awful about my looks is completely kiddie-pool shallow.
But for me, it is a problem. One that I've had for so long, and want to be rid of. Isn't it sad that I waited too long to share memories of my first-ever out of the country trip (achievement unlocked!) because I think so poorly of how I look? It's quite embarrassing to admit that I choose to stand on my tiptoes behind tall people when a group picture is taken because I don't want my imperfections exposed in front of the camera lens and immortalized in print. Do you know how much I hate it when it's time for solo pictures because there's nobody else to use as a body shield and cover my flaws? No one to be the human concealer to my lifesize blemishes...
I want to enjoy capturing beautiful moments with my friends and family, and be able to look at those pictures someday without cringing or cropping or immediately deleting them because I look too fat or my complexion is uneven.
I always want to be that version of me in the jumpshot above.
Confident no matter how she looks.
Comfortable in her skin - with her body despite her weight.
Brave enough to embrace her flaws and let the world see her imperfections.
I'm not there yet - wherever "there" is. But I'll continue taking it one day (and photo) at a time. 😊
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fallingforfallencrowley · 10 months ago
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Georgia Tennant
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David and Georgia Tennant
Photographed for The Telegraph by Kristina Varaksina
Promoting Staged Season 3
"The more time we spend together the more we get on" - [ link ]
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