#I'm always surrounded by my friends and community having this shared experience that feels like it should be fundamental but it's not for me

[dragonspleenistasty]

Just a vent post ig

Hm. Once again feeling really shitty about being basically the only trans woman I've interacted with on the internet or in real life that isn't attracted to women but so. So much of transfem stuff in my circles at least is all about loving women which is great! And I support it! But at some point it's starting to feel like the expected thing (especially when all the posts I make about my feelings get ignored on tumblr 👍)

[dramatic-dolphin]

Re. Your women being so scared thing. And to be clear I mostly agree with you.

I'm not sure where you're from, but I'm from New York, and I can say for sure that I'd feel more safe in the most dangerous part of the UK than basically anywhere in the US. My Parisian aunt thinks Gare du Nord too dangerous to walk near under any circumstances, but to me it seems like a normal bigger train station level of danger, and the streets around it seem normal. I lived in a university town in the UK for a year, and I never felt in danger there or in London, even alone, even in the middle of the night. I was never alone in Berlin, but I was out at night, and I felt at least as comfortable as I would in New York. So I think, at last in the places I've been and from my experience, America is more dangerous and much scarier. I have never been street harassed in the UK, and I have been harassed and followed in New York plenty, and had several people attempt to attack me. Men in the US will also often harass you from a car, which is an explicit threat. It's also important to remember that parking lots are bad places to be and most of the US has to drive, and therefore park.

That said, I know some women who won't ride the subway at night, or at all, and that seems very paranoid to me. If you're riding at a remotely normal time and are paying any attention to your surroundings, you're almost certainly going to be fine. I also know girls who, even once they're in a car, of course, will send friends their location just in case. This seems extremely paranoid to me. Maybe check you're going the right way like one time. I do still think some of the things people do can be reasonable caution - yeah, didn't go hiking on a first date - but the perspective people are throwing at you strikes me as distinctly privileged. No one who's ever had a job can think that way. I've worked with a few women who took cars home after every shift, or their dad or their boyfriend picked them up in a car, and at that point, you have a job as a hobby, because unless he works nearby, you just spent your minimum wage on gas. If you take a cab home in New York, from Manhattan to any other borough, that's most of your pay. So to me, this level of paranoia generally reads that you've never had to be alone anywhere so you don't understand what it means, and you've never had to do shit with, and if you did do it, the money wasn't important.

Yeah a lot of time I get mad at this online because it just seems overly paranoid to me, and then a woman comes in with a personal experience or anecdotes, and it hits me that maybe the US *is* actually that bad? I live in Hungary, and I really like walking alone in the city at night, or going for long walks in the forest alone, and I've never really felt unsafe doing that, but - and this is crucial - neither have most of the women I talk to. Or at least, not to this degree. So, yeah, the US is possibly worse and more unsafe? I can believe that, it's just hard to conceptualize I guess, since the US likes to portray itself as tbe baseline for a "civilized" country, and I live in *Eastern Europe*. So there's preconceptions here, lol.

But yes, a lot of these, even when corrected for this, are just paranoid, there's no other way to see it. Like, no matter where you live, you truly do NOT need to share your location every time you leave home. And there's also the matter of being disconnected from the people and community around you, like being scared to help your neighbor or someone on your street. We live in a society, you kind of have to take an active part of it.

A lot of it is just a lot of energy spent on being scared every waking moment of your life. Like, okay, in the reddit thread I saw this in, there was a woman saying that she ALWAYS puts her ID in her front pocket when she goes outside so they can easily IDENTIFY THE BODY IF SHE DIES. Like what material good does worrying about this bring to your life? It's not even a self-defense technique, doing this will not help you with staying alive!! All it does is make you think about "oh no, I could get murdered" every time you leave the house. This is NOT a healthy mindset!

It's like a strange and widespread kind of anxiety, and the worst part is, it has you convinced it's necessary, and you can't get rid of it unless you make an active effort to do things despite being scared. First you have to convince yourself that you *won't* get murdered by your date if you don't share your location, and that's the hardest part. And yeah lol, having to do things alone helps you with this tremendously, because you realize that you've just taken the subway at night alone and survived. But if you're never forced to do things alone, you get stuck in this weird fear spiral, and whenever you see a stranger, you end up thinking about how they could murder you.

[bloomingdarkgarden]

I am going to say this as gracefully as possible.

There are new people in this fandom everyday, people who have never experienced fandom before, and are not aware of the courtesies surrounding fan-created work. Creative overlap totally happens within these spaces, and I have a lot of grace with those boundaries. I do believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt, particularly when they lack experience. That being said:

- Borrowing strangely specific developmental plot elements or trajectories unique to a story to build your own without permission is stealing.

- Taking a sentence or metaphor from a fic and marginally warping it to pass as your own is also not ok and the original author can almost always identify it.

I could go on, or be less kind, or share screenshots, but I'm not going to (at this time). The effort I've put into the Darkgarden is immeasurable. I have dedicated 13 months and close to 1000 hours crafting this story via literal tears and 4am sessions. My voice as a writer is, well, strange- and quite distinct. This is a VERY popular story within a relatively small fandom community. If someone borrows original elements from it, it is going to be brought to my attention.

A couple of close ACOTAR writer friends have also experienced plagiarism over the last few months and it really just isn't ok, no matter the degree.

I can't explain what it feels like to see ideas + expressions I've toiled over being blatantly taken and used elsewhere. The feeling is completely arresting, gut-wrenching, and quite frankly, hurts me.

I find peace at night knowing that I crafted this story raw from my heart. It reflects in the writing.

Can you say the same?

Have a great weekend.

[boy-gender]

I’m not exactly sure how to phrase this. I, like many others unfortunately, am a scared and confused queer person. Being on the younger side as well I really don’t know what steps to take to be safe. Is removing any note that I’m queer from my socials really something I should do? Should I stop posting about my experiences as a queer person? What apps should I cease use of? As a trans person should I detransition while I’m in public? Etc.

I’m just so lost, I feel like I need a field guide to navigate through this.

I’m sorry for bothering you with it, but your posts have been comforting today. Hope you’re safe too. <3.

Nobody can tell you how to best protect your safety but you, because youre the only one able to guage your situation. Are you in a blue state with protections and an established queer culture? Are you in a small red farm town where trucks full of trumpers drive around with flags and rifles (I am)? Is someone following your car or harassing you at school? Does your town have a rainbow sidewalk? In person, you have to weigh your assessment of danger and awareness of your surroundings against, I guess, your desire to authentically express yourself.

I am a bad judge of this. I am aggressively visibly queer, always have been, and i will never back down from beig confronted. I escalate conflict and then i win them. I dont go seeking it, but when it finds me, I will not be cowed. I have never been in the closet and I will not go there. I value my expression highly and my physical wellbeing very lightly. After a lifetime of suicidal tendencies, my self preservation skills have atrophied.

Thats not to say im not aware of my surroundings and risks. Just that you might have different priorities than I do. Some suggestions:

-Dont use a period tracking app. You write that shit on physical pen and paper and hide it. If you think you nay be pregnant, tell no one until you know for sure.

-Get rid of twitter, mostly because its a shithole and was even before the election.

-Do not give your real name, location, school, age, birthday, or any other identifying information online. My profile says my name is Sasha, I'm an adult, and Im from the broad new england area. Sasha is not my name. I am an adult, you can guess what age that makes me. New england is a large area and I do not speak about identifying landmarks near me. Get a nickname. Remove your age. Lie. Lie about where you live or be vague. You owe this information to nobody, ever. Speak about your experiences, please, we need your voice. But edit those experiences so they dont get used against you.

-use the block button generously

-learn your rights, state and local. Learn how to speak to cops or avoid speaking to cops, rather.

-make real life community connections, particularly around gardening and food sharing. Learn to grow your own food.

-take a first aid cpr class.

-learn to drive, even if you dont end up going for your license. Have the ability to operate a car.

-Learn to shoot, get a license, practice frequently, and be armed.

-stay close to your loved ones. Talk to friends and family and people you trust. Isolation is the enemy.

[askinkiskarma]

The Archer | Chapter X: Daylight (the end)

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX

Summary: As Neteyam comes back to life, the two of you have to decide how you want this new chance at a future to look like, and that means leaving some things behind in order to gain others.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 15,5k words (wtf honestly)

Warnings/notes: it's over :'( , so many feels i'm drowning in them, smut (kinky, filthy smut, 18+ Minors DNI!!!)., cursing, mentions of blood and death.

A/N: 200,000 words later, the Cardigan series has officially come to an end. I have so many things I want to say, but I feel like no words would do justice to how incredible writing this story has been as an experience for me, how much it's meant to me and will continue to. I said in the first chapter of Illicit Affair that this is the first things that I have written that will ever see the light of day, and to see how many people have resonated with it, engaged with it, it has been beyond my wildest dreams (another TS reference, ha!). I will never be able to convey how grateful I am to literally each and every person that has liked, commented, replied, followed, reblogged. I know you probably hear that a lot, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I say I love you, and I thank you for giving me a voice, and a sense of community.

I have one more Oneshot I am planning to write for this story, which will be set in the future, and then I will be moving on, and starting new challanges. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and once again, thank you so so much.

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

And I can still see it all in my mind

All of you, all of me intertwined

I once believed love would be black and white

But it's golden, like daylight

You were almost on the brink of drowning as you came out of the vision, looking at Kiri, who met your gaze with a mirror of your own, wide and shocked, thrilled and ecstatic, hopeful and joyful beyond any reason. You struggled to keep your cool, to keep your mouth closed, when all you wanted was to open it and scream, scream at the top of your lungs, scream for all the world to hear that you did it. You got Neteyam back. He was dead, but you revived his heart, you restarted his body, you found him in Eywa, you led him home. You never realised how literal his nickname for you would ever turn out to be, but you were grateful, for now and always, to have someone who loved you, who understood you, who shared in your every pain and grief, in your every moment of relief, in your deepest fantasies and happiest hours, who thought of you so profoundly, your being so connected to his own that your existence would be intertwined for life, for all life, for every life you led.

Holding hands, you swam towards the surface and smiled as you saw Lo’ak and Payakan hanging out. Payakan was officially reinstated in the clan and in his tulkun tribe, after heroically helping in the battle against the Sky People. Still, he preferred being with Lo’ak most of the time, and preferred being on his own. It was a hard pill to swallow, but one you were forced to many times, that, in time, you learn to love your chains. You learn to rely on the solitude, to accept it as your own, as a friend and companion, and the imprints of the shackles still dig into your skin even after they are gone. It was a phantom pain, solitude, and even when it was gone, you still felt it, still craved it, still wonder how long it would be before it inevitably came back. 

As you surfaced, Lo’ak entire body jolted and turned in your direction, quite literally on the edge of his seat as his legs were hanging off his brother’s fin. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes were so wide, they were emanating light in the night darkness surrounding you, like little beacons in the sea. Both his palms were propped upwards, towards the sky in an inquisitive motion, and you could tell he was dying to know, dying to find out whether he still had a brother. You smiled in his direction, a wide smile that could barely scratch the surface of all the emotions trying you, but it was enough for him to understand, enough for him to jump up, and run laps on Payakan’s back, yelling and screaming in relief, much like you wanted to do, much like you felt you needed to. 

“COME ON, come on come on, let’s go!” 

You laughed at you brother and you saw Kiri rolling her eyes, but you all had tears swimming like little fish in the sea, and hope in your heart, and as you helped your sister onto Payakan, you knew you had to hurry, you knew there were very few thoughts or words that could encompass what you were all going through. 

The tulkun made quick work of the journey, the gentle giant surprisingly fast for his size, and in no time at all, you found yourselves near the entrance of your marui, hearing voices coming from the inside. You stopped still in your tracks, the increase in your heartbeat so quick it made the world spin around you and your knees wobble, until they felt like the tendrils of the Tree of Souls, deep in the Omatikaya forest. Why were you nervous? It was Neteyam… your Neteyam. You’ve been together for a year now, you’ve known each other your whole lives. Seeing him hasn’t evoked this feeling in you since you were 16 and so in love with him your heart thumped at the mere mention of his name, beads of sweat dripping down your body at his mere gaze towards you, electric shocks down your back and to each extremity at any mere touch he bestowed on your body. His presence still evoked these feelings in you, the raw physical reaction you had to him unchanged in time, but you were never nervous around him anymore. Your love was comfortable, evolving from a wild fire, setting everything ablaze in its wake, to a camp fire, providing solace and warmth, providing comfort and home. 

Why were you nervous? Maybe because going through those flaps, and seeing him alive would really allow the fact he was gone from this world, gone from your life to begin with, sink in. Maybe it is cause it will bring to focus how close to losing him, to losing yourself, you really were. Maybe it’s because you knew his fluttering eyes and his lips wrapping around each word as they left his mouth would bring you to your knees, would remind you of how your last conversation was a fight, a horrible, insidious fight and that in the meantime, in his absence, you lost so much, including the promise of a baby you knew he wanted more than anything in the world. How were you supposed to tell him? How would he react? Would he ever forgive you? Would you ever forgive yourself?

“Angel, you coming?”

Lo’ak waved a hand in front of your face while he gently shook you with his other one. 

“Angel, you ok?” 

You gulped audibly, then looked at him with panic deep set in your features. His eyes softened taking you in, and he pulled you into a hug.

“It’s going to be ok. We’re all going to be ok. You did it, angel. You brought him back to life. Now’s the happy part, you know? Now’s the good part. Come on, I’m sure he can’t wait to see you again.” He took your hand in this and pulled you behind him as he walked, and you allowed him to guide you, appreciating the little push, as you don’t know if you would have been able to make it by yourself. 

There was chaos in the tent, chaos that tired you, that reminded you how exhausted and depleted of every possible resource you actually were. Max and Norm were busying themselves with machines and medical equipment, no doubt trying to make sure Neteyam’s vitals are alright, that he was alright. Would there be brain damage? Would there be physical consequences for his coma, for his lack of oxygen when he died? You tried to focus on one voice at a time, to allow it to ground you to the moment, ground you to environment around you, as you felt lightheaded and close to collapse. You found the only voice that mattered, the only voice that you would recognise anywhere, anytime, in any plane of being, in any state of consciousness, in any body or mind, in any alternate or parallel universe. The only one. 

“I’m alright, sa’nok. I am here. I’m sorry.”

You’re still yet to see him, buried under all the bodies of your family members, all straddling and caressing his arms and chest and legs and feet, clinging to him like they didn’t want to let go - like they couldn’t. You got the impulse, you got how necessary it felt, how demanding a compulsion. You stood cowering in a corner of the marui, allowing them the moment you got in the spirit tree, allowing them to wallow the loss and rejoice the rebirth of their son, of their brother, of their hero. 

Your hands settled on your lower abdomen, flat and taut against your palms, that you cradled and caressed softly, imagining it soft and tripled in size, imagining your fingers pressing down on it to meet the little hands and feet pushing from inside it to feel you, to talk to you. You thought sadly about the baby that was gone, your baby, Neteyam’s baby, your little perfect bundle of joy, and looked at the way Neytiri and Jake hugged their son tightly, so much love and gratitude filling the air around you, so many tears and cries filling the silence of your home. You knew then that if that was your price to pay, if this was your burden to carry, you were happy to do it, happy to have been able to be even a small reason why this moment was unfolding in front of you. 

A son for a son. 

A little synchronised movement between all of them is all it took for you to come face to face with the man you loved more than all the stars in the night sky, all the stars adorning his beautiful body, that stiffened as he took you in, his golden eyes wide as they landed on yours. You held the breath in your lungs and counted. Nothing else mattered in this world, not ever, not anymore. Nothing but those eyes. Nothing but the soul that was reflected so well in them, like mirrors to the depths within him, that nobody knew like you did, like nobody understood in the way you could, just like you knew he knew you. Your twin flame. You melted at the scrutiny of his gaze, that now migrated to your hands, to your lower belly that you were still holding affectionately and his eyebrows raised taking it all in. A small sob escaped your throat at seeing him, finally seeing him, at him seeing you, finally seeing you, exhausted and cried-out and marked in bruises and cuts, in thick loin cloths that were dripping in a mixture of water and blood, all the way down the leg and on the floor of the marui. 

The entire family turned around to follow their son’s gaze, and when theirs landed on you, when it shifted in between the two of you, when the air became thick with tension and anticipation, in your grief and fear, in his confusion and hope, you faintly saw Jake motion everyone out of the room. Tuk came hurrying to your side, and you had to break your eye contact with your mate to kneel and take her in your arms. 

“Thank you!” She was crying, small hiccups escaping her mouth with every deep breath and her small arms encircled your neck so hard they were hurting you, but you held her, allowing her to cry it out in your presence, that you knew consoled her. You have always been scared of the eventuality of motherhood, scared of your demons getting the best of you and manifesting as bad parenting, scared of the possibility of hurting your child without realising, without meaning to. Scared to be a bad mother. But holding Tuk in your arms, knowing what you meant to her, knowing you were pretty much her second mother and have been for a while now, it put your mind at ease. It helped you deal with the mind-paralysing fear and to some extent, helped you be hopeful of a time when your own child will look at you the same way.

Neytiri got up from where she stood and approached you, her eyes so red and puffy there was barely any identifiable white in them, and your heart constricted in pain at the sight. She’s had to endure so much. She hugged you, so tightly her beaded top and jewellery were scratching painfully on your skin and you smelled the faint smell of metal as blood started pouring out of you. 

“You know, when I first saw you, you were the smallest thing I had ever laid my eyes on. So small, smaller than I could ever imagine a baby being. I stood next to your mother while she gave birth, and had to watch her scream in pain, scream so loudly I thought the whole forest would wake up. I was pregnant then, and watching her scared me, scared me for when I would have to give birth to my son. And when you came, you were bloodied, and covered in goo and a little wrinkled, but then, Norm and Max washed you, and I swear I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Not just you, but your mother. And the look she had on her face, the love I could feel all around me, the instant unbreakable connection, the unconditional bond that would transcend time and space, would always be more than any words can describe. I loved your mother, my girl. I loved her so much, and I promised to take care of you when she passed. 

Imagine my surprise when you ended up taking care of us, instead. I always knew you were special, but to watch you grow up, watch you become the reason my clan is rid of a disease that plagued it for years and years, watch you fight alongside us, complete your Iknimaya, become one of the people. Watch you bring my son back to life… my son, that you have been connected to since before he was born.”

You were both crying as she was caressing your head, pushing your hair backwards and stroking it gently.

“When I was very heavily pregnant, I came to see your mother. We met in the forest, and she brought you with her, you were just a couple months old, and they had just managed to make a little oxygen mask for you, so Marj wanted to show you the forest. We lay on the ground together, just talking, like we always used to do. And all of a sudden, you reached out your little palms, almost like you were searching, and you touched my belly. And you just kept your tiny hands there, on my belly, with a little smile on your face. We laughed about it at the time, but didn’t think that much of it. Until just a few hours later I went into labour, and had Neteyam not too long after. 

I thought about that moment since it happened, every time you two were together. Every time it felt like you two were one soul, split in half down the middle, meant to one day reunite and become one again. It was scary, and foreign. You were human, and he was Na’vi. You would never be one of us, I thought. But no one could deny the connection between you, not even the Tsa’hik. When you were young, your mother told me in confidence she is working on an Avatar for you. That she feels like you belong with us, you always have. That you belong with Neteyam. I agreed, but after she died, so did my hope for it.” 

She looked guilty and torn as she spoke. “I pushed him, I told him to leave you, to give you space. I told him to find a mate, I thought that’s what needed to happen, I thought it would help you both heal, it would help you move on from a love that couldn’t be, that was impossible. I am so sorry. I had to see you both suffer and know I caused this.” You took her in your arms again and held her, your turn to console her. 

“It’s alright, sa’nok.” 

“When Norm told us about the Avatar, I was so happy. So, so happy, it felt like this was always meant to happen, this was always meant to be. I knew then that you and Neteyam would always find each other, that I was right from the beginning. That Eywa willed it so. Eywa willed everything so. The Avatar, the impossible to make Avatar happened, and it could only happen to you, because you had to be one of us, you had to guide us, you had to be Neteyam’s light. Your hands brought him into this world when he was born, your light guided him, and then brought him back to this world, when we thought we lost him forever. It was you, always you.

I will never be able to repay you. But I will continue to be your family, your mother, for as long as I still can, for as long as you’ll allow me. I will always love you, and I will always protect you with my life, just like you have continued to for me, for us, for so long. Oel ngati kameie, ma’ ite (I see you, daughter).” 

Your mind was at a loss for words at Neytiri’s confession, at her love letter to your mother, to her son… to you. This woman, this incredible, strong, capable, beautiful, intelligent, kind woman has done so much for you, has given you motherly love you thought you would never feel again. She welcomed you in her life, in her family’s lives, she gave you a home and a cause and a reason to get up in the morning, and you never thought you would be able to give her anything that would be able to balance any of that out. You were beyond elated to hear that you did manage to give her something, that something you did helped her, brought her comfort and safety and peace. 

“Oel gnati kameie, sa’nok (I see you, mother). You and this family are everything to me, everything. And I will continue to fight everyday to be worthy of it. Of you. Thank you.”

You hugged each family member individually, and thanked Norm and Max for their invaluable contribution to your and Neteyam’s health, for always being such good men in the storm, for being the best extended family you could have ever asked for. You watched as every last one of them left, and, with a deep breath in, you turned your gaze to him, the only person in the world - now and always. 

“Hi.” 

His smile dazzled you, feeling the dizziness you have been struggling with for a while, the ache deep in your womb come back into focus and knock you to your feet. You walked slowly to where Neteyam was laying, every step a torture, every step a moment in which your body seemed like it was catching up to itself, catching up to everything it’s been through. Ever since your dad’s message, your body fought and fought, it withstood everything that was thrown at it. Fight or flight always did wonders for you, until it was time to crash, until after the world settled around you and the adrenaline, the stress diminished, and you could finally feel the overwhelming pain that was lurking beneath the surface. Neteyam reached a hand out to you when he saw how wobbly you are, but winced when the gesture tugged at the needles of the IV fluids currently flowing inside his body. You grabbed his hand into yours as you plopped yourself to the ground, and he inspected you carefully, sorrowfully, frown lines so deep you thought they would never go away. His eyes fixated on the thick, unattractive loincloths you were dressed in, that were still dripping on the floor from your swim, and his frown somehow deepened at the blood that was clearly visible on the material and that had dried going down your thighs. 

Your hands travelled all over his body, from the hand he reached out, up his arm and on his chest, over his every bruise and cut that was way underway to healing, to his navel and over his abs and up again, until they reached his neck and face, his face that clearly showed him awake and cognisant, clearly showed that he was back to you, back into your life that he was violently yanked away from, and seeing his expressions, his eyes, reminded you of the vacant ones he left behind that haunted your every moment, reminded you of his blood on your hands and Neytiri’s wails, of how every ounce of happiness and love just dissipated from you like water on a hot day. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Your voice cracked in the middle of the sentence, and hearing that voice, so defeated and broken, so much like how you felt inside, was enough to push you over the edge, enough to make you sob aggressively in his chest, grateful to be able to do this again, grateful for the way his arms found their way to your back and hair, that he was caressing gently, his touch everything you have needed for days that felt like years, like lifetimes that you lost, that you would never get back. 

“I’m here. I’m so sorry it took me so long, Atan. You’ve always been so much quicker than me, at everything. It always takes me a bit longer to catch up to you, but I am here. And I’m never leaving again, not without you.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

It took a long time for Neteyam to manage to calm you down, but eventually your heartbeat lowered to an appropriate rate and your breath stopped feeling like it was burning your lungs and you were so dehydrated from crying that that also stopped eventually. 

“I’m so sorry about your dad, Atan. So, so sorry. When I saw him in Eywa…” he couldn’t continue. “I am so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, so sorry you had to go through all this by yourself.” 

“Neteyam… I am the one that needs to apologise. I have so much to be sorry for, so much that I need to tell you. I -“ 

“You have nothing to apologise for. Nothing. The fight, what I said, what you said, it was all wrong. It all came out wrong. And you know… when I left you then, I was so sad, so unmoored, like it was a problem that we would never be able to solve, but then, as I watched Lo’ak leave for Payakan and knew that I would follow him into danger once more, no consideration for the consequences, no other thought outside of saving him, I knew it then you had been right to say the words you said. You were right. And if I want a family, if I want us to move forward, it has to come from me. I have to show you what you mean to me, that I’m here to stay, that I will keep myself safe as much as the people I love, so I can live to see my children grow up, the way I’ve always wanted to. So I am sorry. And I will be ready when you are, whenever that is. Whatever it is, we’ll brave it through together, and I promise I’ll be here for you, and I will be more careful.” 

You had no idea how much you needed to hear those words until they left Neteyam’s lips, but as you did, your whole heart lit up from within, and the light that shone through the cracks helped mend them, helped heal it, helped put it back together. You would be ok. You and him, you’d be okay. As long as you had each other, there’s no storm you couldn’t weather, including parenthood. 

“I need to tell you something. And I fear when I do, you’re going to hate me. And I’m so sorry. I am so sorry that it happened, because it took it happening for me to realise that I am ready, that I am not afraid anymore.”

“What is it, Atan?”

He struggled to sit up so you could be face to face, and despite your wordless protests, you helped, heart throbbing at his proximity, and his presence that enveloped your own like the warmth of a sun, and when it was done, you sighed and continued, feeling soothed by his thumb tracing your lips and the white luminescent freckles on your cheeks. 

“When the ship attack happened, the fight with the humans, the effort it took to get my dad away from it all, the stress of losing you, the effort of bringing you back… there was so much pain in me, pouring throughout my whole body, but I thought that was just from all the wounds, both physical and emotional, all the wounds I had to withstand in such a short amount of time. B-but…” You choked on your words, hoping and praying that by swallowing them whole you wouldn’t have to utter them, not have to say them out loud, not to him. Your hand involuntarily went to your abdomen, that you stroked mindlessly, and when Neteyam’s eyes followed your movement, a look of terror grazed his face. 

“I found out… I was pregnant. We were pregnant. The little being we wanted, the little bean I was so scared of, it had been there, and I didn’t even know. I didn’t even know until the stress and the pain and all the loss and grief running through every inch of my being took it away, away from me, away from us.”

Admitting this to your mate was somehow even harder than you thought it would be, and you found yourself once again collapsing on his chest, once again pushing out tears from a body that felt like it had very little water left to spare, but still it gave you its last remaining sources for this, knowing you needed it, knowing there was nothing else there, but the tears, to drown the emptiness you felt in your body, in your womb.

Neteyam was reeling at your words, so much shock and pain, no amount of painkillers pumping through his veins could keep up, could ever numb this feeling down. But, as he watched you suffer, convulsing with each sob that escaped you, he realised the grief he felt was for you, for how much you had to deal with, power through, all alone. To know that this is what was happening while he was revelling in a fantasy land with all of his heart’s deepest desires come alive, it killed him. The guilt he felt ate him alive and left only scraps in its wake, enough for birds to peck on until only the bones were left behind. He should have been here, should have helped you through this, you should have been able to mourn the loss together, feel its unbearable weight together. He felt tears gather in his eyes and spill down his cheeks and neck, looking at your thighs that were smeared in your blood, just like your loincloth was, knowing what caused it. 

“Please, please don’t hate me. I am so sorry. When they told me, I realised how much I wanted it, how much, despite everything I said to you that day, nothing would have made me happier than to watch myself get bigger each day, than to watch you beam with pride at the thought of being a dad, than to watch us trying to figure out how we’re going to do this, than to know no other baby has ever been so loved, so spoiled, so cherished as ours would have been.”

The tears were unrelenting, hearing your pleas, laced in anguish and terror. He took your face in his hands gently, moving it away from his chest, that was now soaked in your own tears. 

“Atan, look at me. Please? Please look at me. You crazy girl, how can you ever, ever think I could hate you? What am I supposed to hate you for? Because you fought on the ship? Because you tried to save your dad? Because you worked tirelessly to bring me back home? What kind of person do you think I am?”

Your sniffles were all that could be heard in this tent that has seen so much, too much, too many tears, too much pain and grief, that would be forever plagued by the Sully’s misfortunes, but that Neteyam was adamant to change. He was adamant that the tides were turning, and that the only cries it shall ever hear again were those of pure, unadulterated, incandescent happiness. 

“Come here.”

His hand wrapped gently around your throat and the action made you gasp, but he pulled you towards him gently until your lips met in a kiss that promised to heal you, to mend all these unconquerable torment and reshape it into hope and wonder. He was desperate for your touch, desperate to feel you, desperate to make up for time lost and past gone, but he wanted to wait - you both needed to heal, to mourn together and move on, and right now, you both needed to fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

Neteyam woke up groggy in light of last night and all the drugs being pumped in his body, but as he felt your back snug against his chest and heard your soft breaths, his mind cleared and focused, and he was able to notice the rest of the world around him, such as his dad’s snores and Lo’ak’s senseless sleep-talk, as well as Tuk’s little body tucked in yours, as you held her tightly in your arms.  He really felt the need to get up, and stretch his legs. He felt the need to see the sea, to breathe in fresh air and watch as the nature surrounded him, as the Metkayina got up and ready for the day. He missed it, he realises. Missed all of it. It was great to be back in the clearing, and have you, and see the two babies, but waking up in your arms, with your pheromones inundating his senses, seeing his family share his space, seeing people exist outside of him and his problems and grief - he missed it and he was happier by the second to be able to experience it again. 

It didn’t take a lot of movement on his part for you to stir in your sleep and open your eyes, immediately turning your head to look for him, almost as if you were trying to make sure he was still here with you. He smiled a little at your panicked expression and the frown that melted as soon as your eyes locked, and the smile you gave him, wide and serene, with your fangs poking through, made him finally understand what you meant when you told him humans say being in love feels like having “butterflies in your stomach”. 

“Good morning, yawne. God, it feels good to say that again.”

“Do you think we can go outside? Just you and me?” 

You looked at him with a flicker of concern, but nodded softly. You turned around and patted Tuk awake gently.

“Tuk-tuk, I need to go, can you please go sleep with your parents, baby?” 

Tuk whimpered a little, but almost sleep-walking, made her way in between his mother and father and instantly fell back asleep. You both snickered at the sight and he wished silently he could sleep that easily. 

You got up, wincing a little as you did, which Neteyam dreaded, and carefully removed the needles in his body. You held out both your hands to help him get up, and he felt grateful for your help as he realised he could barely move his body by himself anymore, deep pain and numbness throughout his entire being. It took a long time and a lot of effort to get him outside, and he felt ashamed about it, embarrassed at the strain required to do the most basic things. Neteyam prided himself on his physical prowess, something he had worked for his whole life. He was strong, powerful, he was quick and agile, he was fast and limber and right now, he was none of those things. 

With a sigh, he lowered himself on the edge of the platform, allowing his feet to dangle in the water, that was warm against his skin, a big difference to the ice cold water of the river in the clearing. 

“It’s going to take a while, my love. For both of us.” He noticed your hand moving once again to your lower abdomen, almost a necessity at this point. You did it so often, without even thinking about it. He pressed his hand on you, as well, imagining a little kick meeting his touch, imagining the swell of your belly as life grew inside of you. He was so sad about it, but tried not to dwell on it, as he knew this wasn’t meant to be, and when it was, it would make the experience even more meaningful in light of everything you both have lost. 

“Does it hurt, Atan?”

You nodded weakly. “The physical pain I can deal with. It’s everything else that hurts more.” 

“I know. But you are the strongest person I know. And if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I'm here. You don't have to do this alone.” He struggled lowering his body so that his head rested on your lap, but when he did, the comfort it provided alleviated any pain and frustration in his heart. He nuzzled his nose against your belly and pressed small kisses all over, and you laughed softly as they tickled you slightly. Your hand found his hair that you stroked rhythmically until he was so relaxed, he was on the brink of slumber once more.

“I think it’s time for you and me to go back home.” 

“What?” 

Neteyam’s astonished tone made you giggle a little, and you almost didn’t recognise yourself or that sound, having been so long since you last heard it. 

“I think we should go home. I think it’s time.”

“Atan… we can’t go home, you know that.”

“Yes, we can. We left because Jake wanted to keep us and the village safe by hiding. But they found us. We’re not safe, and we can no longer hide. And if we’re going to fight, if we’re can’t hide anymore, I’d rather do it back home, where you and I belong, where we’ve always belonged.”

“Neteyam… your last words were ‘I want to go home’. You want to go home, and so do I. Neither of us wanted to leave to begin with. We belong there, with the Omatikaya. Our children belong there. Our children will learn the ways of the forest, they will learn to hunt and shoot a bow and arrow, they will learn to climb the trees and the Iknimaya, they will get their own ikran, just like we did. I love this place, and this clan, I really do, and it will always have a special place in my heart. And we will visit. We will have to, considering our brother will be their Olo’eyktan one day.” You chuckled again at the though of Lo’ak, his newfound love for this clan and the chief’s daughter, and how even in this way, he is a carbon copy of his father. 

“Shit. I never thought about that.” 

“But our place isn’t with them. And that’s okay. Sometimes growing up is knowing what works for you and what doesn’t, and knowing when to let go of the people you love, for them to be able to grow and evolve on their own, and for you to be able to do the same. You’ve held on to Lo’ak your whole life, clung on to him, and on a quest to protect him, you lost your life. Lo’ak’s always felt alone back home, and he always felt like an outcast, but here, he’s free at last. Having found Tsireya and Payakan, he found himself as well. He’ll made a great Olo’eyktan one day, but in order to do that, he has to not feel like he’s always living in your shadow, in my shadow. So let’s just go, you and me. Let’s go home.” 

Neteyam’s mouth was agape in surprise and shock at your words. He struggled to comprehend what you were saying to him. Go home. Their home, their real home. They couldn’t do that… could they? Neteyam resigned himself months ago in knowing his home was a long forsaken dream, that he might never see again. He resigned himself in knowing he will never be truly himself again, in knowing he had to live without an integral piece of what made him who he was, an Omatikaya warrior, rider of banshee, son of the Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, future Olo’eyktan himself. You said once humans had a saying, that home is where the heart is, and he felt that way most times, content in life as long as he had his family by his side, you by his side. But he didn’t agree fully to it - home was also where your clearing was, home was where he imagined his children being born and raised, home was in the trees and in the Hallelujah mountains, home was night rides with Seze and Neyn, home was where the Palulukan and Yarik and Talioang and Pali were, home was all of those things and more. And to have a chance to live in it again, have a chance at making his dreams and childhood fantasies come true, it was incredibly enticing, so much so his heart ached instantly just at the fleeting thought of it not happening. 

But how would it even work?! How would he ever be able to leave his family, his brother behind? His careless, stubborn, loving, amazing brother that he has spent every day of his life with, that he watched grow up so much in the mere few months they were in Awa’atlu, that finally felt like he had found his place, and Neteyam winced at the realisation him and his baby brother didn’t share the same idea of home. It pained him to admit that you were right, as you always seemed to be. Lo’ak’s home was here. The sea was his home, the sea would be his children’s home, before their birth and after their death, and Neteyam would have to watch from a distance, and get glimpses of the man his brother would grow up to be in time. He felt tears pricking painfully at his eyes. He was happy, so happy for him, that he finally found a place, found a family in Tsireya and Payakan, but he was saddened by the thought that, in the end, that family wasn’t him. Growing pains fluttered through his entire being as he realised childhood was over, and it was time to grow up, it was time to step up and be the adult that was needed, that would be able to take care of his own family, of his children and his mate. 

When you were younger, Neteyam saw you read a book that you loved dearly. Neteyam would listen intently as you talked about it, as you read him passages from that book and one of them always stuck with him as he made his way through life. He always wondered what it meant. 

“You will find little joy in your command. But with luck, you will find the strength to do what needs to be done. Kill the boy. Kill the boy and let the man be born.”

Now he understood. He finally understood that his death was the death of innocence and childhood, and it was time to let it go, and let new beauty, new life peer through, for new happiness to shine. 

“Let’s go home, Atan.”

════════════════════════════════════

It’s been a few weeks, and Neteyam felt himself getting stronger by the day, in no small part due to Norm and Max and their infinite patience in helping him heal, in helping him be able to slowly move his body again, his shoulders and arms. They said the journey to recovery would still be a long and strenuous, but that in time, he should be able to get the full function of his muscles again, and be as good as new. In those weeks, Neteyam watched blissfully as you were getting better, too, the bleeding close to completely gone. It was time. Time to talk to his family and let them know of the decision you two made, that only solidified in his mind in time. It was the right decision, the only decision. He wondered briefly if his parents would think the same. 

It was a good as time as ever, as the morning light beamed through the marui and filled it with warmth and patterns moving with the wind on the ground. It’s been a peaceful, calm few weeks and everybody could tell, the atmosphere serene and filled with laughter as his mother and sister were preparing breakfast for everybody. Neteyam saw you give him a pointed look, raising your eyebrows in their direction, and with a small sigh, trying to work up the courage, he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Ahem… everyone, there is something we wanted to tell you.” His heart started booming in his now healed chest as his whole family turned around and watched him intently. 

“What is it, ma’ itan?” 

He felt comforted by the feel of your fingers intertwining with his and the little squeeze that followed. 

“We’ve thought about it for a long time, and Neteyam and I want to go back home, to the forest.” 

His father’s mouth dropped, as did the rest of his family’s, and his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he sighed loudly and shook his head.

“Kid… we’ve talked about this.”

“No, Jake… we haven’t. We made this sacrifice because we thought it was the only way. We thought we were protecting the Omatikaya, the Na’vi, we thought by hiding we could keep this family safe. It didn’t work. The humans found us, the humans took so much from us. There is no hiding anymore, and we want to go where we belong, where we’ve always belonged.” 

“Dad… I know this comes as a surprise. But we are doing this. My whole life, I have spent giving up pieces of myself, pushing down my feelings and my desires, in order to be the version of myself I thought you wanted. The version of myself that I thought this family needed, the clan needed. But I’m no longer a child anymore, and no longer the future Olo’eyktan. I died, dad. My mate lost a baby, my baby, and I wasn’t even there. This will never happen again, I won’t let it. I want to be a good father, a good mate - like you are. I want to raise my kids in the forest, I want to fight for my clan and for my people that have raised me, that I have sworn to protect since the moment I passed my Iknimaya, since the moment I knew I was the son of the Toruk Makto.”

Neteyam looked at Lo’ak, who looked sad and angry. 

“I want to make it clear that I don’t expect anyone else to join us. This is something we have to do, but brother, you don’t. You… you’ve grown so much, Lo’ak. I watched as you found your place in this world, as you found your mate… your brother. The sea gives and the sea takes. You taught me that, brother. It took the forest away, and it took me away, but it gave you so much, and will continue to give you… strength, and a purpose… a family. And I will watch you become the man I always knew you could be. And when you become Olo’eyktan one day, I will know you are the best Olo’eyktan this clan has ever seen. A mighty warrior. A good leader.” Lo’ak’s face changed into a misshapen mess, trying to maintain his composure and not let the tears inundating his eyes fall, the way they were threatening to. Neteyam moved closer to him, patting him affectionately on the head.

“I’m so proud of you, Lo’ak. And I’m so sorry if my existence ever made yours more difficult. It’s hard for me to think of you as anything else other than my baby brother, but you are a man now. And it’s time to let you go. And I can’t wait to see you again, and get to see your incredible future unfold in front of my eyes.” 

Lo’ak said nothing as he slapped Neteyam’s arm away and pounced on him in a rib-shattering hug, and he was pleasantly reminded of the thousands of times his baby brother has done this when he was younger, back when his love for Neteyam was obvious and manifested itself physically, back when they were inseparable. Neteyam circled his arms around Lo’ak and patted his back and Lo’ak let out his sadness and frustration, years of pent up resentment and anger, years of feeling inadequate and isolated. They both needed this. The rest of his family quickly joined into the hug and Neteyam felt suffocated as his siblings and parents squeezed the life out of him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was time for all of them to heal, for all of them to grow. 

You took Spider’s hand in your own, the two humans who didn’t quite belong anywhere, but who had a family they loved and that loved them and you watched the beautiful moment unfold in front of you, happy tears slowly falling down your cheeks, your other hand resting, as it always was these days, on your belly, mindlessly caressing it. Being here, in Awa’atlu, surrounded by the endless ocean, has been painful for you, filled with emptiness and grief and loss, but oh-so-necessary. It had been something you all needed to go through, a time of discovery and growth, a time to break and a time to heal. You realised with a small smile that Tsireya was right. 

Water connects all things. Life to death. Darkness to light. 

You were almost done. Most of yours and Neteyam’s stuff was now safely tucked in Norm and Max’s helicopter, deciding you would give Neyn and Seze some freedom to fly as wildly and freely as their hearts desired. Both of the ikran were playing with each other in the airspace above you, their happiness so clear it was palpable. Seze was hard to budge from Neteyam’s side, so protective and desperate to ensure he wasn’t going away again anytime soon, so much so Neteyam had to order her away to play with Neyn. It turns out, Kiri has also been feeling similar to you and Neteyam, and despite how much she enjoyed being here, how much she enjoyed the water and the new flora and fauna, she too missed home, and her grandmother, and her Tree of Souls. So you watched as she said goodbye to her parents and to Lo’ak and Tuk, and held Spider’s hand as she put the rest of her stuff in the helicopter. 

It was a bittersweet moment. The whole clan was here to bid you goodbye, and you started with Ronal and Tonowari, that you owed for eternity for the way they took you in, for the way they give your dad his forever resting place. You approached them slowly and thanked them the best way you knew how, with an “I See You” and a ceremonial bow, that quickly turned into a hug when that felt like not enough to impart all the feelings you held inside. It was strange to them, and a bit out of place, but Tonowari was quick to adapt and reciprocate, while Ronal was ever the stoic, although she did wrap one arm around you in a moment of uncharacteristic affection. 

“Thank you. We will both miss you dearly.”

“Don’t be a stranger, nantutetsyìp (little human).”

“I won’t. We won’t. We will be here so often, you will get tired of us.” Tonowari laughed while Ronal rolled her eyes, but a small smirk was still apparent on her beautiful face. You reached a hand over to her belly, that you touched softly. 

“I can’t wait to meet this little baby. I will be her favourite aunt, that’s a promise.”

You moved on to Ao’nung and Rot’xo, that you punched affectionately in the chest. 

“Take care of my baby brother and sister. Or I will come back and I will show you how us forest people handle conflict.” 

You hugged them both, and were surprised to see the hint of sadness in their eyes. You will miss these knuckleheads. 

There was no hint in Tsireya’s eyes, as she was full blown crying in Lo’ak’s chest, and you had to pull her away from him so you could look at her and remove her tears with you thumb as you caressed her beautiful face. 

“Don’t cry, sister. We will see each other again soon. You have to visit, you have to come to the forest and see our home, you have to climb the Iknimaya with us. And when you come, I will show you the labs, and I will quiz you on all the English that Lo’ak should be teaching you. I don’t want you falling behind on our lessons, ok??” 

“Yes, sister. I will miss you so much, I wish you didn’t have to go.” 

She gave you two beautiful shells, almost identical, turquoise and dotted in white bioluminescent freckles, just like she was, and placed it tightly in your hand. 

“This is for your songcords. Both you and Neteyam have a place among us, you always will.”

“Thank you, Tsireya.” 

You turned your full attention to Lo’ak, who was once again, contorting his face so as to not appear weak in front of the girl he loved, and in front of the girl he used to love. 

“Take care of her, Lo’ak. And of yourself. You don’t have us to save your ass anymore, so you have to be your own older brother now, and Tuk’s. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Angel.” You were proud of how well you handled it, no tears up until now, but as you looked in the eyes of your best friend, of the boy who got you and your humanness in a way no one else really did, not even Neteyam, who shared your sense of humour and wild streak and your inclination for cheesy old school movies and TV shows, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“Be safe. And visit, ok? And don’t forget us while you enjoy your endless walks on the beach and adventures with your new brother. Me and Neteyam still got dibs on you, do you understand?”

“Yes, Angel. I’ll miss you so much.”

“Me too, baby brother.”

Finally, you moved to Neytiri, Jake and Tuk, who both decided they would move between the forest and the reef, so as to spend equal quality time with all family members. They had no more responsibility, no more weight on their shoulders, no Olo’eyktan or Tsakarem duties anymore. They could just be for a while, enjoying the peace while it still lasted, and you were happy they could finally be free, at least until the humans decided to strike yet again. But the victory at Three Brothers Rocks definitely put a dent in their plans and budget, and you knew it would be awhile until that were to happen. You had time. You all had time. 

“We’ll be home soon, ok, kid? It would be great if you could clean the tent for us beforehand, ha!” You rolled your eyes at Jake, but laughed as you hugged him. “Enjoy retirement, pops.”

You moved onto Neytiri, who was so happy to know you were going home, and that so was she soon, ecstatic to see her mum again, to see the forest again. 

“Don’t take too long, sa’nok. Mo’at will not be happy to be kept waiting and I can’t live without Tuk for too long.”

“We won’t, ma ‘ite. Be safe. Eat well. Don’t strain yourself, you are not fully healed yet.”

You smiled at her motherly ways that she was never able to fully disconnect from, that you never wanted her to, especially when they were directed at you. “Will do, ma.”

You kneeled on the soft sand to take Tuk in your arms as held her as she cried. 

“We’ll see each other again very soon, my baby. Don’t be sad, you know I would never leave you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, baby. Come here.”

You held on to your mate as you said one final goodbye to everyone, and then climbed onto Neyn and connected your queues, feeling her excitement overwhelming you at the thought of going home. I know, girl. Me too.

You felt your stress and anxiety melt away with every kilometre you got closer, with every tree that came into focus, until it completely melted from your bones at the sight of the forest in the distance. You looked at Neteyam, who was smiling widely, relief so transparent and obvious on his face, and you laughed at how it was mirrored on Kiri and Spider’s faces as well. You felt free. Free at last. You knew they did, too. 

════════════════════════════════════

Neteyam woke up like from a reverie, like from the vision in Eywa, back in your tent, in both your tent, and felt like he was floating. He looked at the fabric and counted all the dots in it through which light blinked carelessly, and felt warmth envelop his body as he tightened his grip around your sleeping form. It’s like he never left. Your home looked exactly the way you left it, both of you having spent a few days getting it back to this point. He glanced around, at the bows now back in their stand, at the quivers and the guns, and he hoped it would be a long while before they had any use for them again. He looked at your desk, and smiled to himself at how you did a happy dance at seeing them all again and having it all back, all the books your mother spent her whole life collecting and keeping close to her heart. He peered at the mirror you looked at every morning before you went outside, and the two songcords that were back where they belonged, hung on it, one on top of the other. It was hard to picture the life he left behind, hard to imagine the reef as anything but a dream, a hallucination. 

As he pressed a small kiss on the top of your head, he saw you turn to face him, wide golden eyes and pearly whites the only thing he could focus on as he took you in, in all your unbelievable beauty. Your gaze turned primal as you continued to look at each other, need enveloping you both like a thick blanket you wanted to get lost under. It’s been so long, so long since he had you, so long since he took you, so long since he claimed you the way he knew you craved, the way you both craved. You both found solace in each other’s bodies, in the way your individual needs were only met in each other - his need for control, your need to relinquish it. Even in this way, you were perfect for each other, made for each other. You were his match and he was yours.

His cock throbbed in need, in desperate need to fill you to the brim until you were dripping in cum, until you were swollen and sore, until you were begging him to stop while pushing him deeper in you. It drove him mad, your look, the way your pheromones were flooding his nostrils, the way the sound of your pounding heart matched the twitching of his hard member, the way the smell of your arousal was so thick, sweet and floral, he could feel it on his tongue. 

It took every scrap of self-restraint in him to not rut into you like a feral animal, but he had other plans and the surprise he had planned had to take precedence. 

“Atan… I need you to be a good girl for me and wait until tonight… can you do that?” 

You whined as you threw a leg over his hips and started grinding yourself slowly on him. 

“I have had to wait for weeks. Weeks, Neteyam. Weeks in which the only thing I could think of is your cock so deep in me I start to see stars.”

Neteyam growled, a deep guttural growl and removed your leg from him. 

“You’re gonna make me fucking crazy, Atan. But if you are a good girl for me, I will make it worth your while. And I will indulge your every whim… All. Night. Long.”

You threw your head back and moaned, and after thinking about it for a while, you eventually relented. 

“You better make it worth my while, or I’m gonna have to start without you.” 

He shook his head and kissed your nose affectionately. “I love you, my crazy, insatiable fiend.” 

Your patience was not one of your more formidable attributes, Neteyam thought tiredly as he was helping you onto Seze, a big frown on your face. You were definitely needy and desperate, and have been the whole day, which made it Neteyam’s day hell, having to push you away every 5 minutes, having to keep a level head for the both of you. You’ve been asking him about the surprise the entire day, testing his patience that he felt like he had infinite supplies of at the moment, thankfully. Eclipse finally settled and the mountains glowed with iridescent hues, that Neteyam made a mental note never to take for granted again. 

“Are we going to the cave? Or to the clearing? I thought we couldn’t really go to the clearing again?” 

Neteyam sighed for what felt like the millionth time today, and got behind you on his ikran. 

“You are a pain in the ass sometimes, you know?” 

“But I’m your pain in the ass, remember?” 

Neteyam made Seze land deep in the forest, in a place that was very familiar to both of you, and he knew you would know where you’re going as soon as you saw it. 

“So we are going to the clearing. I knew it.”

He grabbed your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, his other hand moving to your jaw as his lips closed over yours. You moaned and immediately deepened the kiss, to which he laughed. 

“We’re almost there, Atan. Come on.” 

You growled and threw your head back, but followed him without saying another word.

You knew you were being annoying. You could feel yourself being annoying, but you couldn’t stop, not when you have been unhinged with need the whole day, the whole month, since before that fateful ship attack and all throughout both your recoveries, throughout the journey back, throughout settling back in the forest. You still didn’t know what this was. You knew it was a surprise, but you didn’t know what it was or why it was. You were pouting now, walking pointedly towards your clearing, and you tried to relax and get excited about the fact you haven’t seen this place in so long, way before you even left for Awa’atlu, out of fear that humans might find you here and take you away.

You looked around you, at the beauty of the forest and the glow surrounding you, at how your each step was illuminated by the ground your feet were touching, and the howls and sounds of the nocturnal creatures coming out to play, the soft hum of the insects and the chirping of the birds. You loved all of it, missed all of it so much, a symphony that felt like that background music to your life’s story. As you pushed past the trees into your clearing, you gasped, the breath knocked out of your lungs at the sight. A red woven blanket was placed on the ground, pillows and covers enticingly waiting for you to snuggle in. You stared in awe at the huge holographic screen projected over the river, currently stopped at the introduction scene of Pride and Prejudice, your favourite book, the one you still had by your bed in the tent, the one whose covers were falling apart at the seams.

“Neteyam… what is this?” 

“It turns out, believe it or not, that I have been lucky enough to call you mine for a whole year now. Actually, it’s been a lot longer than a year, but our actual anniversary fell at a bit of an inopportune time, since you know… I was dead. And afterwards, we were both reeling, and grieving our loss, and healing our bodies, and when you told me you want to go home, I knew I should wait and do this properly. And so this is what I’m doing.” 

“I wanted to thank you, Atan. I don’t think I say this enough, but thank you. For having been my light since the moment I was born, until the moment I died, for guiding me back home, to you, every time I lost my way. For giving me a reason to be better - a better friend, a better sibling, a better son, a better man, a better mate. My whole life, I have looked up to you. My whole life, I saw in you the person I knew I wanted to be worthy of one day. I have watched, in awe, every day, as you became the most intelligent, caring, incredible, beautiful person in this world, a person who struggled so much, and went through so much grief, a person who carried so much darkness inside, and yet managed to emanate only light all around you, in everyone’s life. I have watched you be my sister’s best friend and confidante, my brother’s shoulder to cry on, my baby sister’s hero and my parents’ biggest critic and supporter and every day, I grew more in love with you. I have been by your side my whole life, and not one moment did I not love you, did I not hope that I would never have to be parted from your side, for as long as I lived. You have been the woman I have been madly in love with since I was 15, and the woman I hoped and prayed could one day be the mother of my children. I am so eternally grateful for every moment I get with you, every moment I get to watch you, every moment I get to wake up next to you, I get to look at you and know that nothing will ever change between me and you, between this formidable happenstance we call our love.” 

You were sobbing violently at his words, that made you feel so special, so loved and appreciated, that healed every hurt in your soul, that mended every crack in your forever broken heart, until there was only love, the love you felt for him, for your relationship, for the lifetime of memories you have made together, for the lifetime of memories you’re yet to make. He took you in his arms and held you, caressing you gingerly as you cried and sniffled in his chest. 

“I have a gift for you. Actually, I have two gifts.”

“I thought this was the gift.” 

“No, Atan.” 

You removed your head from his chest and waited as he went to the blanket and removed two things from underneath the covers. The first was a book. You took it in your hands with a confused look on your face, that quickly turned stunned as you read the cover. Pride and Prejudice. It was your mum’s book, but the cover was different. It was new. Made of wood, the woodwork detailed and intricate, with flowers and patterns, as well as a carving of the Bennett house as depicted in the movie that was currently paused on the screen. 

“This is actually cheating a little. This was the original gift I planned for your 17th birthday, that I never got to give you. I started the covers, but never got to finish them, and after I left, I thought I’d never get to give them to you. When we came back, I thought it would be the perfect time to finish it, and Norm and Max helped me bind the book. I know how much you love this book, and I know how sad you were that it seemed like it was falling apart. So hopefully now it will have a really long life, long enough to pass on to our kids, and their kids after that.” 

You always wondered about your life, about how it seemed so out of balance, so filled with sorrow and pain. You realised now, as you’ve always suspected, that Neteyam was the counterweight. Your good karma. He was what made all the sorrow and pain bearable, what made this life worth living, still so unbelievably beautiful, and exciting, and good. It was him. He was your gift, the Universe’s gift for all you’ve had to suffer through. You had no words that could convey what this meant to you, what his words and the gestures and this night will always mean to you, so you just kissed him, hopefully able to convey it to him in this way. He chuckled a little as the kiss came to an end. 

“You’re welcome, Atan. Here, your last gift.” He gave you a big cork board, and you recognised it faintly, it was a board that used to be in one of the labs you grew up in. Except now, it was filled with a collage of photos, photos that used to be hidden in your Pandora’s box, back in your old bedroom, where you kept all your secrets, all the things you were too scared to ever deal with. Photos of yourself as an infant, as a toddler, as a child. Photos of you and Neteyam, of your mum and dad, of the scientists, of the Sully family. And new photos, that you were seeing for the first time, of yourself, sleeping or hanging out with your siblings, laughing animatedly with Jake. Photos of you sleeping snug against Neteyam, photos that he obviously took in secret. 

“When did you take these?” 

“My dad has a camera that I use sometimes when you aren’t looking. Out of every human invention, I definitely think I like the camera the best. It’s amazing to be able to have these moments captured, forever. I have been collecting the pictures for months, and as we came back, I was able to print them in the lab.” 

You looked at the gap that covered the bottom right quadrant of the board, and looked at him expectantly. 

“That’s for all the new memories we’re going to make. It’s for when our children are born, for when we become aunt and uncle to all our little nieces and nephews, it’s for the amazing life we still have to live. I thought we could hang it in our tent, so you can look at it every day and be proud of everything you’ve achieved, Atan, of this incredible life you’ve led, that is only a tiny speck in the sky of the rest of our lives.” 

You smiled up at him, still in shock at everything he did, and all the thought he always put in his gifts, at how much he loved you, at how much you loved him. He took the gifts from your hands and left to put them by the blanket, away from view.

“Do you want to watch the movie? Or… are there better things we could be doing beforehand?”

You looked at him through your eyelashes, your vision blurry from how badly you needed it, how badly you just wanted to be fucked, like it was the first time, the only time.

"I'll take that as a yes."

His eyes darkened, pupils so dilated there was barely any yellow left in them, and he stalked towards you like a predator, like you were his pray to hunt, to take, to kill. You were panting in anticipation, your frilly beaded loincloth soaked in your arousal, that has been continuously pouring out of you all day, so saturated it was trickling down your ass and thighs. You couldn’t believe this man, couldn’t believe he was yours, yours to keep, yours to admire, yours to fuck until you blacked out, forever. He only stopped when he was so close to you, his breath was fawning over your face, and his smell, his musky, woody scent hit you instantly, making your tempestuous need uncontrollable. You raised on your tiptoes to bring your lips to his, but he stopped you, wrapping his long fingers around your throat and squeezing until the air left your body and the asphyxiation made you dizzy. 

“No, Atan. You’ve been a good girl so far, you don’t want to ruin everything at the last second, right?” 

He let go of your throat and you gasped, the sudden burst of pleasure making you moan and push your thighs tightly together, as the throbbing deep within you was so intense it was starting to hurt. 

“Fuck, Neteyam. Please, I just, I need you to fuck me. Please.”

“God, I love it when you beg. It drives me fucking crazy. You drive me crazy. I have needed to feel you, feel that pretty little pussy milk me, squeeze me, drench my cock in your cum for so long. I’m going to make you feel so good, Atan. I’m not gonna stop until you beg me to, until you’ve come so many times you pass out with my cock still deep in you. How’s that sound, mm?” 

You were almost done just at his words, the power they held over you unspeakable, the power this man had over your body still astounding you, a year later. You had no words, just moans, but it was not good enough for him. His hand squeezed around you once more and you were gasping for air that wasn’t coming, not until he allowed it. 

“I asked you a question, Atan.”

“Fuck. It sounds amazing, i-it sounds so good, Neteyam. P-please. Fuck.”

“That’s my girl.” 

The hand that wasn’t tight against your throat went to the back of your head, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling roughly on it, until your head was thrown back, and you felt a dull sting of pain when his canines dug into your throat, until blood came out and you went feral at the feel of his tongue licking over it, at the thought of it coated in your blood. You were reminded that the remnants of your blood were still circulating through his body, another way through which you owned him, you possessed him just like he did you. He kissed you, roughly, tongue darting over your lips and you opened them, drove to the brink by the taste of metal, of your blood on his tongue, in your mouth. You moaned in the kiss and he smirked, and you knew he loved seeing you like this. Panting, begging, mewling like a little bitch, desperate for his touch, desperate to be fucked unconscious. 

He lifted you effortlessly off the ground and knelt with you in his arms until he placed you on the blanket, your back loving the feel of the warm, fuzzy fabric. You reached behind you to grab a hold of your queue and brought it forward into his line of sight, and he smirked again as he did the same. 

“You want to feel what you do to me? How fucking wild you drive me? How deeply you own me, how badly I need you, Atan? You want me to feel your mind going blank as I bottom out in you, as I lick every bit of the nectar dripping in between your legs? Is that what you want?” 

“Yes, fuck. Yes. Please.” 

“Good.” He connected your queues and the influx of feelings, of desires, of savage, untamed emotions was almost too much for you to bear, eyes rolling in the back of your head. It was his turn to moan and the noise sounded so much better coming from his mouth, his deep voice reverberating deep within you, driving you one step closer to release. 

He skilfully removed your clothes and his own, leaving you with a glorious view of his incredible body, of his defined abs and bulging biceps, of the v-line that lead to his large, beautiful cock, rock hard and so swollen it was deep purple at the tip, slapping against his abdomen, leaking precum that you were dying to lick off it. 

“You are so beautiful, Atan. You are fucking perfect. I can’t believe you’re mine. I can’t believe my luck. I promised I would make it worth your while, let me show you I keep my promises.” 

He lined himself to your entrance, that was gushing in need, and you mewled as he teased you, slapping his dick against your folds, grinning like a devil. You arched your back and shut your eyes, deep frown lines on your forehead, that was already covered in a thick layer of sweat. He grabbed your jaw and pushed your head down to meet his wild gaze. 

“Look at me. Look how I fill you up with my cock, Atan.” Your eyes drifted down to where your bodies met, and you struggled to maintain you gaze as each inch of him was being buried in you, eyes fluttering open and close, the feeling too much, too intense. You felt yourself being stretched to the brim, until the border between pleasure and pain was delightfully unclear, until his tip hit your cervix, until his girth pushed against your g-stop, until your walls were contracting at the sensation you have been deprived of for so long. 

“Fuck, you take me so well. So, so good for me, baby.” He didn’t move, and you felt through the bond the intensity of his own feelings, so much love and care, so much need and desire in him and you waited, getting lost in this feeling, getting lost in the pleasure that so good, it was getting unbearable. 

“Move, Neteyam. Please, move.”

“I need to feel you first, baby. I need to feel the way my cock stretches your needy cunt, I need to feel the way your walls are throbbing around me, I need to admire the bulge in your abdomen as I fill you up. Look at it.” He pressed where the little bulge formed by his impressive length was visible, and as he did, you somehow felt even fuller, and once again you felt the need to close your legs, to try to get some relief from the torturous wait. 

Taking pity on you, Neteyam started a slow, maddening pace and he smiled when he saw tears in the corner of your eyes at how desperate you were. Without warning, he started rutting you like the little slut you were, like the way you have been begging for, and almost immediately your first orgasm washed over you with enough power to knock the air out of you and he didn’t stop, not when it was done, not until you came again, and again, and again,  until tears were falling down your face and into your ears at how overstimulated you were. 

“Neteyam, I can’t anymore.”

“Yes, you can, Atan. Come on, just one more and then I’ll fill this pretty pussy with my cum. Do you want that? Want me to fill you up real nice? Want to be dripping in my cum, want the whole village to smell me on you?” 

At his words, at the picture he painted, you felt the pleasure coil in you again, and you knew this orgasm would hit you like a tidal wave, keeping you on the ground with no power to get back up. 

“Y-yes, I want it. I want it so badly. I want your cum, fuck, I want it.”

“You want me to give you a baby? Want to make me a daddy?” 

“Y-yes. Yes, I need it, need your cum in me, please.” 

“Fuck yeah, baby. Take my cum, like the good little girl you are.” 

You both moaned as you came, the liquids in you mixing and spilling out of you, over your ass and onto the blanket. You didn’t know if it was all you’ve had to endure, or how long you’ve been without it, but this was definitely the best orgasm you ever had.

“I agree.” 

You laughed loudly, and looked at him affectionately. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I can feel you, Atan. I can feel the pleasure that washed over you, more intense than you have ever felt. I feel the same.” 

He pulled out of you, and pecked you gently on the lips. As you were trying to get up on your elbows, he pushed you back onto the blanket and you fell backwards with a soft thud.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done yet. I told you I will indulge you all night long, didn’t I?” 

“Neteyam, are you not going to be happy until I pass out?”

“Isn’t that what I told you, baby girl? Did I fuck you dumb already?”

How were you still so turned on? How was your cunt still throbbing in need when you’ve lost count how many times he’s made you come already? You loved it when he was mean, such a stark contrast to the peck from earlier, to his usual demeanour, to his real, day-to-day self. You loved it, it made you squeeze against thin air, feeling the need to be filled once more.

His hands wondered over your whole body, over your breasts that he caressed and pinched until you whimpered, until his fingers were replaced with his tongue, the ministrations making you grind your hips against nothing, the noises coming out of your mouth more unholy with each second that passed you by, each minute that he was sucking and licking every inch of skin he could get his fingers and mouth on, until he reached your folds, still leaking a mixture of both your cum, that he lapped at like he had been starved, like this would cure the drought plaguing his senses. Your senses, on the other hand, were plagued by him and his skilled tongue, and the way it was pushing into you, sucking on your abused clit, until your walls were clenching once more. He pushed two fingers in you effortlessly, curling them to touch that spongy part in you that made you cry out in pleasure, and the stimulation was too much, the coil in you close to snapping again, your hips grinding on his face roughly. The animalistic moan he let out pushed you over the edge, and you squirted on his face, down his chin and nose and he laughed proudly as he licked it all off. 

“That’s my good girl.”

“How about we watch a bit of the movie and then I fuck you again?” 

You laughed as he made his way next to you and you cuddled up close to his chest. 

“Yes…daddy.”

════════════════════════════════════

Your family was in a tizzy today, preparations unfolding all around you for your upcoming trip, that you were supposed to leave for any minute now. It wasn’t going to be a particularly long trip, but it was definitely an important one, one that had you giddy with happiness and excitement. You were already packed, the clothes, gifts and medical supplies once more tucked away at the back of Norm and Max’s helo, both of whom were accompanying you, as well. Although never quite part of the people, both of the scientists were honorary Na’vi at this point, their continuous support, love and care for this planet and all its inhabitants not gone unnoticed, even within the Metkayina clan, who have taken a liking to the two. 

“Kiri, don’t forget the thing, the thing…” Jake was pointing aggressively on the floor at something by his daughter’s legs, and you laughed at how nervous he seemed. It was endearing and a little surprising, seeing how Jake was usually quite stoic and well put-together, especially when it came to his two boys. That has changed in the past few months since you returned home, the distance that always existed between himself and either one son or the other softening his rough edges, making him more open and affectionate to both of them. You guess it was true what they said, after all - absence does make the heart grow fonder. 

With one last smile in their direction, you quietly exited the tent and got up on your ikran, who cooed softly in your direction. She has been particularly gentle and tender with you recently, and you couldn’t tell if her having laid tiny ikran baby eggs was the reason behind it, or just general happiness and gratitude at your decision to return her to her home. Either way, you were grateful, and so, so excited to meet her babies when they were going to be here, fantasising about the idea that her babies and your own would one day be united, the same way you were. 

“Let’s go, baby girl. There’s one last stop I need to make before we leave.”

You got to the Tree of Souls easy enough, having visited so often recently you could make the trip with your eyes closed. You swore it would never be as long as it used to be for you to visit your parents, for you to keep in touch, to see them and talk to them, to make sure they knew they were missed and not forgotten. You wanted them to be part of your journey, in a way they never could before, and you were happy to say that regardless what was happening in your life, you came once a week without fail, nothing able to keep you away. 

The cove wasn’t desolate, several Na’vi lost among the tendrils, connecting to their ancestors, to their loved ones, to people they lost. You greeted each of them, all of them looking at you almost in awe, at the girl whose parents came from the stars, who stole the Toruk Makto son’s heart, who cured an illness that pillaged from them, that took away so many Na’vi men, women and children, including some of the people that were being visited today. 

You chose a part of the tree than was unoccupied, and connected your queue to one of the mauve tendrils swinging gently in the breeze. You were immediately transported in a place you were now very familiar with, your mother’s old house back on Earth. The humid heat hit you instantly, as did the smell of the ocean and the cold breeze that pushed sand into your nose and eyes, and you took a second to take it all in, as you always did, the beauty of Earth, so different and yet so similar to Pandora, always a treat, always worth the extra few minutes of reflection. You pushed the fence door and made your way to the house on the broken cobblestone path, and smiled as the sound of a piano playing could be faintly heard from inside. You didn’t bother to knock, and took your time walking through the narrow hallway, looking at all the photos that were hanging on the walls, a lot more than you remembered from your first visit, including new ones, one of you, human and grown up, in between your two parents that were smiling widely at the camera. Photos of you in the living room you were currently walking towards, playing piano and dancing with your father, propped with your feet on his as he swung you around. Photos of your mother rolling her eyes as she was caught mid-cooking, and a photo of your parents kissing on the beach, taken by you (you assumed) without them knowing. They were beautiful, so beautiful, just like they were. 

“Bunny! You came!” Your mum got up from the couch as soon as you entered and ran to your side, hugging you loosely so as to not hurt you. 

“Of course I came. Don’t I always come?” 

“Yes, but we expected you in a couple of days.”

“I can’t come in a couple of days, ma. We are leaving for Awa’atlu soon, remember?” 

“Ah, yes!!” Your mum face-palmed herself and you laughed at her. She was a little ditzy, you realised. You never realised that as a kid, but it was blatant now, more so by the week. Your dad joined in the laughter and came by your side, placing a small kiss on your cheek. 

“Hi, love. Are you excited for the journey?” 

“Eh, not for the journey, but definitely for the occasion. Thank you for the gift idea. He’s going to love it.” 

“Of course, bunny. How often does Lo’ak get to take his Iknimaya and become a man?” 

“Well, hopefully just the one.” 

They both laughed in unison at your joke. 

“I can’t believe how much he’s grown. God, he used to drive Jake crazy when he was a toddler, he would just run and run and crawl through tight spaces, where Jake could never fit through. He was an angel when Neytiri was around, but as soon as she left, he terrorised his dad. Poor Jake hasn’t had a good night sleep since the second Lo’ak came out of Neytiri.” 

“Well, that hasn’t really chanced. But he’s bigger now, so he’s easier to catch.”

The laughter was music to your ears, and you dreaded knowing you’d have to leave soon and not see them for at least a week.

“Where’s little, puny me?”

“Don’t call her that.” Your mum frowned at you, and you snickered at her face. You and… well, you, got along fine most of the time, but you realised that you were incredibly annoying and having to see yourself every week made you more appreciative for Neteyam and his never-ending patience. 

“She’s taking a walk on the beach. She loves doing that. She’ll be sad she missed you… and this little belly… I could just eat you, you know?” 

“It’s not that little anymore.” 

You placed your hands over your mother’s on your belly that was becoming exponentially larger by the day, and she squealed when she felt kicking meeting her palms. 

“Oh my God, do you feel that?” 

“Of course I feel that, mum.”

She scoffed at you, but she was too excited to rebut, too busy taking your dad’s hand and placing it where hers was. The baby kicked again and you winced, and felt the sudden urge to pee. 

“I need to go. We have to leave soon. I’ll be back as soon as I can, ok? Tell her I said hi, and that she better catch up on all the songs I learnt after I died.” 

“Bye, bunny. Say hi to Lo’ak and the rest of the family for us.” 

When you came out of the vision, you felt arms circling you, and you smiled as Neteyam’s familiar scent filled your every sense. 

“Hi.”

“Hi, Atan.” He was pressing small kisses down you neck, while his hands wandered on your body, from your breast, now full and barely covered by your increasingly small tops down to your belly, and he gasped silently when he felt the same kicking your parents did. 

“He’s kicking! Oh, Great Mother, he’s kicking!” He took you by the shoulder and spun you around and you laughed a little as the action made you dizzy. 

“We don’t know it’s a he yet, yawne.”

“I know.” You raised an eyebrow at him, but said no more, and watched as he lowered himself to your belly and looked at it in adoration, like he was venerating it, venerating you. 

“Hi, ma ‘itan. Be gentle to your ma, deal? We don’t want to hurt her.” He showered you in kisses until you melted in his touch, and by the time he reached your face, you were panting and in need. Neteyam groaned as the smell of your arousal hit him. 

“Atan, we have to get going, my dad’s already out of his mind with worry and excitement, and my mum keeps packing food, to the point the ikran are going to drown in the sea because of the overbearing load. We are the only sane ones in the family now, we have to act like it.” 

You threw your head back and laughed heartily, at his words, and at his tone that sounded serious, not an ounce of humour in it. 

“Fine. But when I’m hot and bothered for three days during the trip there, I don’t want to hear you complain.” 

Suffice it to say you were late to get going. 

════════════════════════════════════

As you spotted the familiar island of Awa’atlu, you heard the beautiful horn announcing your arrival, and felt emotion overtake your being at the thought of seeing your brother and Tsireya, as well as the leaders of the clan after so long. It’s been a few months since you have left, and although Neytiri and Jake have come here in that time, you have not. You were excited to see Lo’ak’s reaction at your news, and excited to watch him become a man, be born again as a member of the reef clan, that was now his forever home. 

You saw him before making out anybody else, his deeper blue skin sticking out like a sore thumb among the Metkayina. You jumped off from Neyn before she even landed, and you heard Neteyam and Neytiri both hiss at your recklessness. You were too busy to care, running as fast as you still could and wrapping your arms around Lo’ak’s neck in a tight hug. The younger man was too stunned to say anything, so stunned that his arms remained motionless by the sides of his body. 

“Hug me, you skxawng.” 

“Angel…what?!”

You scowled at him until his eyebrows dropped and his eyes softened, his open mouth curling in a soft smile, one you knew too well, one you loved so much. 

“Hi, Angel.”

“Surprise?” 

He pushed you a little and kept you at arms length as he inspected you, placing a hand on your belly. 

“How long have you been gone? You look like you’re about to pop.”

“You’re such a dick, Lo’ak.” 

“I’m kidding, Angel. I can’t believe this. I’m so happy. So, so happy. This is the best present you could have ever gotten me.”

“Oh, ok, then, I guess I’ll just leave the solar-powered projector loaded with all your favourite movies and tv shows in the helo.”

“WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

“Why are you more excited about that than being an uncle??” 

“Can I use the baby as a projector? Didn’t think so.” 

“Sing for us, Angel. You didn’t bring your guitar all this way to keep it by your side all night.”

“Fine, but only if after, Tsireya can translate everything I sing.”

“Ha, she’ll kick your ass, you’ll see.”

“Hey, I might be pregnant, but I will still kick your ass if you keep annoying me.”

“I see the glow of motherhood didn’t do wonders on your temper.” 

“Lo’ak… she will hurt you if you keep going.” Neteyam sighed, rolling his eyes in his baby brother’s direction. 

“Fine, fine. Just sing, Angel, please?” 

You looked at your mate who was eyeing you lovingly and strummed a song you knew he’d know, you knew he’d love. You saw his eyes go wide and then settled on a look of wonderment and euphoria, a look you’ve seen a lot of recently. You gave him a wink before you started singing.

We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar

"I rent a place on Cornelia Street”, I say casually in the car

We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

It was a sweet reunion, one you desperately needed, and as you spent the night catching up by the fire, Neteyam’s arms wrapped around you and the sounds of your family laughing and chatting away filling your ears, you felt lucky for everything good in your life, that overwhelmingly outweighed the bad, and hopeful for the future and all the beauty it would bring with it. 

Thank you again for this amazing journey. I love you all x

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja @lovekeeho @trixscarlett

[lorelune]

hey fellas and folks i have been meaning to write something up about this but haven't known where to start or where i'll end up. but i DO feel like it deserves addressing.

(having my joker moment joker moment)

i really love this niche. i found a home in it during a very difficult time in my life, and have found many friends and lasting irl connections from the writings shared and conversations had. this place is so incredibly, INCREDIBLY dear to me. despite going through many horrors (tm) while in this community, i continue to stay because there is a lot about it that i love.

however, in the last... i don't know, year or so? there has been such an abundance of discourse, gossip and drama both publicly and privately that has exhausted me to no end. these things have always existed, they always will, but in the past year they have felt so draining and despairing that it has made finding the same comfort and joy in this community is hard. a lot of times, impossible!

one of the things that genuinely makes me SO sad is the tags. i made most of my lasting friendships in this niche but seeing a writing in the tags that i enjoyed and dming the author and shouting together. i have found so many great writers in the tags, and i still crawl around them today looking for fic!! HOWEVER. i find it difficult, not just because of the abundance of vague smut-related comphet posts with a slew of character names underneath from unrelated fandoms (to each there own but it isn't a posting style i enjoy!) but moreso because of the INSANE number of posts by antis that get thrown into the tags. main tags, character tags, x reader tags. it is so deeply disheartening to be looking for fic to enjoy and get jump scared by a posts saying horrible things about those who enjoy dark content. respectfully if you're above the age of eighteen and looking for writing on tumblr dot gov, i HIIIIGHLYY recommend using your literacy to first read ANY article or study summary about human psychology and sexuality and why fantasy does not equal what someone actual desires! signed a sex-repulsed ace spec mf who writes and enjoys smut. hate to use myself as example, but i hate even more to see folks in the tags be puritanical and pro-censorship under the guise of progressive ideology.

i want to say that there are parties within this niche that are CONSISTENTLY at the center of drama and conflict. no matter what fandom, no matter the url changes and lurking, they are there and its the same mfs. this is a complete vague, as i'm sure the parties in involved in the targeted harassment and ensuing drama do not know who i am, nor know that i know. but i DO <3, and so do plenty of other writers in our niche who have politely blocked and left you alone. do us all a fucking favor and do the same, instead of instigating harassment and being hateful cunts.

in this vein, in my closer circle, i know that these events (especially in the last six months) have caused folks to become conspiratorial and assume bad faith. i understand this is a protective measure because folks have gone through the wringer. however it makes me so sad to see what is often folks who likely do not know any context or horrors of the community, be painted so poorly in casual conversations when most of the time, communication is made to create a connection, not to start a fight.

i find myself reflecting on WHY i have come to not feel comfortable in this community. why i don't enjoy writing the same way, why i don't feel the same security i once felt, why i get so damn nervous to post a silly thought or thirst on main, and i find myself coming back to these experiences and the subsequent fear that follows. perhaps i am a weak-hearted coward, but i find it hard to find joy when i feel surrounded by constant negativity and genuine cruelty. it is hard to want to share any of myself when i am so deeply aware that whether it is strangers or people i have become close to, what i enjoy and what i choose to express and share can be so easily twisted into something it is not.

i know it would be easier if i had a thicker skin, or felt secure enough that this didn't bother me, but part of the core problem is that this community has made me insecure. it's a loop. it is one that makes me genuinely sad, as this place once felt so much like home. i know it still can be, but it certainly won't be sitting here, starting at blank documents and text posts wondering to myself 'why can't i just put words on paper' while i have the cortisol levels of a prey animal.

i'm not sure if other folks have felt similarly, or find themselves in the same point. however if you do, or you find yourself resonating, here's to feeling seen 🥂

- papa salami (lore) 🌙

[intersex-support]

I've always suspected I was intersex since I was young and heard of it, now that I'm older and I'm getting close to a diagnosis of PCOS, I got checked for high testosterone I have high testosterone, even after everything; I still feel so hesitant to call myself intersex. I just want advice about this? It's been hard for me to accept this despite all the traits I show. I feel so hesitant to use intersex terms, to call myself intersex. Advice?

Hi anon.

You're definitely not alone in struggling to accept your intersex identity and feeling conflicted about what it means for you. When I first got diagnosed with my intersex variation, I felt really overwhelmed and emotional. Even though I was already a little bit familiar with what intersex meant, realizing that it applied to me, and that I was actually intersex, brought up all these other questions and insecurities about my gender, my childhood, other parts of my identity. And so, so many of my intersex friends have had similar experiences.

I think something that makes it really hard to accept yourself as intersex is the amount of systemic discrimination we face. We grow up in a world founded around compulsory dyadism--the way that the (mythical) sex binary is forced onto everyone, and how people who deviate from the sex binary are erased, "fixed," and have our intersex traits eradicated. When we grow up in a society where every form only has an "m" and "f" box, where there's all this shame surrounding things like body hair, micropenises, etc, where we're told that intersex is incredibly "rare"--it's so hard to feel like we can actually exist as intersex! Our society makes it feel like it isn't even possible in the first place, and then also places all these dehumanizing and pathologizing stereotypes on us once we do find out we are intersex.

But the truth is, of course we're allowed to exist as intersex, and we aren't rare! One thing that's really beautiful to me about the intersex community is that we have so much variety, in terms of our different diagnoses and life experiences. There truly is not one singular universal intersex experience. There's not a "right" or "wrong" way to be intersex. There's as many different intersex experiences as there are intersex people. You know that you have intersex traits, you have test results, you are the expert on your body. You are intersex enough, and your experiences are a meaningful and valuable part of the intersex community.

It's definitely a journey to embrace your intersex identity, and it's not something you need to rush before you're ready. I'll share some things that really helped me when I was in that process, and other intersex followers, feel free to add on things that helped you!

Learning more about intersex history, culture, and politics. It was super meaningful for me to understand that there is an intersex community and that we do have this in depth history, that we're not alone and that people have been intersex for years and years! You can check out this post for a bunch of resources about intersex community, videos, art, articles, etc. It helped me a lot to find people experiencing intersex joy and understanding that as a possibility.

Practicing calling myself intersex in welcoming spaces. At first, I was only out as intersex online in an anonymous blog, because that felt like a safer way to practice referring to myself as intersex without having to come out to people yet.

Joining in intersex community spaces and lurking! I wasn't necessarily ready to start talking about my experiences right away, but meeting other intersex people who welcomed me was super important. If you're under 30, @interactyouth has a discord server. Interconnect also has a discord server and online support group meetings for people of all ages. @intersexbookclub is a super great community that has a discord server and regular book club meetings to discuss books.

Taking it slow and practicing self care. Discovering that you're intersex can be such an emotional experience. For me, journaling is a way that I really like to help process my thoughts and take care of myself. It can sometimes be helpful to incorporate whatever self care looks like for you.

Overall, know that you are intersex, you are allowed to call yourself intersex, and you are not an imposter here. You belong here, and there's a whole community that has your back.

Welcome to the intersex community. I'm glad you're here 💜💜💜

[cringelordofchaos]

top 3 of your biggest kins and why!!

Yayayay someone sent me an ask !!!

Sorry for my lack of response! Will get to it now!

Also I assume you mean fictionkin - sorry if you didn't!

Luz Noceda

Dvdhnfjdjd WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN? I've been so fucking obsessed w her and could relate to her WAYY too much since I started watching. Just... Ugh. So much of it. Being "the weird kid", inconsistent and lackluster grades / performance, being overly obsessed with a specific franchise (though mine come and go and return every few weeks lol), having a mom who really cares about you and wants the best for you and has had similar experiences growing up and being isolated or cast out but accidentally made you feel like you had to conform because that's what she kinda had to do??? idk but still encourages her child's true self and feels super guilty Abt it all yada yada. having little to no friends (I have one! (Speaking of offline) before visiting the demon realm. Fanfic writer (I never have the patience or motivation to finish anything I start though), being impulsive, not knowing whay you wanna be, being into witchcraft, feeling like you're somewhere where you don't belong (the human realm) and would gladly escape into a whole different realm, Bisexual (I'm questioning this though), gender nonconforming, being told that you just have to "apply yourself", insecure, similar clothing style, considers herself a "dummy", poor attention span for things she's uninterested, indecisive, etc etc, THIS SCENE THIS SCENE THIS SCENE

(ps the way camilla hovered her hand above the screen / luz when she saw how sad she was 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺)

It's just. Everything.. I remember the first time I watched it I was like "Luz is so me in almost every single way. Except she makes a ton of eye contact, I don't rly do that" lmao... I would rewatch s1 and S2 on loop every day for the whole summer, I am NOT exaggerating. I rly love TOH I'm so.glad I got the opportunity to watch it and it means sm to me and I keep rewatching the scene from thanks to them and auhggjt.

"all I ever wanted... Was to be understood!" HEJDJFJDIDJRUJDJEKF DJJFFJNFB FIKF

AARON MITCHELL

oh my GOD when I saw this movie for a few days I'd cry sm just bc of how much I related.to him. He chews his shirt. I used to do the same when I was twelve and a bunch of my shirts had holes and still have holes but I stopped and now I just grid my teeth instead lmfao and they hurt ouch. a piece of gum is a lifesaver for.me. He's OBSESSED with dinosaurs - for me it's not dinosaurs specifically but like I've said earlier I tend to get OBSESSED with things way too much to the point everyone knows me for that thing. He's implied to have ZERO FRIENDS before meeting Abby who shares his obsession w dinosaurs (just like me and my one n only friend fr) (why do I keep getting attached to characters who previously had zero friends wtf.) LOVES to talk Abt his interest. Obsessive. Shy. Awful social skills. Takes things too literally sometimes. Calls his dad father sometimes cuz why not ("Thank you, father." after he gave him his phone back "just as promised" (except he broke it in pieces but he.kept his promise so aaron doesn't care lmao.) carries a notebook and pencil w him randomly?. his older sibling and parent argue abt the siblings college choices and you're just forced to watch and the tension is rising and you're feeling anxious and Uhm yeah. SOMETIMES KINDA ROBOTIC IN HIS SPEECH? I've noticed? Blunt. Has a TON of things related to his obsession. (For me I have primarily a tonshit of sonic themed things.) dislikes being alone. Dislikes admitting his feelings. Nerd. Uses obsession as a way to understand, contextualize and communicate with the world and his surroundings. Also chews his fingers. Always wearing sweatpants. Fidgety. Ect etc. Just lile arhghfhfng. HIM.

Things I don't relate to - wearing shoes in bed. What the actual fuck Aaron. Also he wears socks. I don't do that unless I'm nailed down to the floor until I succumb to their nonsensical rules. Ok they KINDA make sense but I don't like them. I don't care that my shoes or feet will smell afterwards get those fucking socks away from me.

. anyway sorry. There's probably more but yeah I forgot. I actually got the urge to cry when just thinking about him a couple of times. Like wowza dawg he's just like me fr and I mean it. I can really really relate to him and I act a lot like him and I acted even more like him when I was about his age and was obsessed with exclusively sonic for like a year straight. lol

Enderman

Ok this one's a short one but yeah I can relate to them. They're just minding their own business, in their own piece, picking random things off the ground (or ground itself..), DESPISE eye contact and will get really violent if you make eye contact with them (I am not exaggerating I actually get really angry and uncomfortable with uninitiated eye contact from ppl I'm not comfy with like don't look at me stop looking at me stop looking at me.) makes random sounds sometimes, such as screeches and hisses. Unlike them I DO like water and I LOVE rain HOWEVER I DO NOT LIKE touching smaller amounts of water on surfaces where I don't expect water to be and get really grossed out and uncomfortable from it. Unless they're with their own kin they're just kinda going around, alone, minding their peace unless provoked. Like most mobs - both hostile and peaceful - acknowledge your existence, hostile ones attack you, peaceful ones like horses and sheep and pigs and wolves and cats and whatnot may look at you if you look at it and pay attention to you and some can be befriended, enderman is neither like them, they're minding their own business, they don't initiate contact like, ever, and only engage w the player when having to defend themselves... when feeling threatened EVEN if the player didn't mean to scare them, like idk I'm.noy.really used to strangers having good intentions with me so I get defensive easily .... that is irl, on the internet I definitely don't get ever scared from social interactions ahaha 😎 yeah.

So yeah the only thing I KINDA can't relate to is not liking water - I only dislike water in a very specific context so yeah. And I do make eye contact w family members usually like I've mentioned earlier - I don't know, do endermen make eye contact with each other? I'm not sure, I don't remember. There might be more to them that I relate to but I can't recall anything at the moment

Everything I've mentioned about these characters in This post - I can relate to. These are just my feelings put imperfectly into words.... but I feel a lot about them and have felt a lot about them for quite some time.

Ducbfjrj there's also a list of characters I relate to (link in intro post) but these were the ones I related to the most

[velvetvexations]

i know people keep saying this but as a transmasc it really does make me feel so much better about, like, existing when i see you & people like you defending us. Thank you :)

Thank you, anon. <3

It's weird but lately I've felt this strange sense of like, idk, I wish I could more easily consider myself a member of the community community because a noisy minority of transfems have made me feel very alienated from transfem culture and all throughout my life the people who have actually supported me and loved me has always been transmascs and AFAB non-binary people*, which before was because that happened to be because I was simply naturally surrounded by them,** and now it's like, I spend all this time engaging with them and their specific issues, and I have them getting really excited to share transmasc-coded songs in my inbox, and telling me they want me to forcemasc them,*** and man! It's something.

And then my NPD-OCD gets going and I start to be paranoid that me working stuff I absorb into the transmasc characters in my writing, or me making that post about how Ranma really does feel more transmasc than transfem to me will get taken as pandering or something. Like I do kinna treat Velvet Nation as a borderline fandom/audience because, like, #actually npd, but I really do just think about transmasc stuff a lot now! The people around me right now are the most I've ever felt at home in the broader queer community and I don't want that to be weird or cringe or seem like I'm trying too hard.

Okay, I'm done rambling. Thank you again.

*plus like two cis women and one cis man, who I also love with my heart but are just not directly relevant because MOST of my friends have always been trans

**and no, trans women weren't avoiding my circles because of secret transmisogyny going on, it was all contexts where it wouldn't make sense for that kind of preemptive self-selection and is why I've felt so strongly that there must be more of one kind of trans person than another, but I'm far from a data analyst and that's not even proper data so I can't truly make that argument; in my personal experience, however, other trans women have always been vanishingly rare to even momentarily run across.

***extremely hot, thank you, literally given me a new kink these past few weeks

[furiousgoldfish]

Damn i was not expecting the "#tw extreme abuse", thank you very much for your words though

I might be able to help the person who asked about healthy relationships though, ive made a lot of good relationships despite my family:

Communication

•above all else, communicate. Tell them about yourself. Learn about them. Get to know eachother! Likes, dislikes. Boundaries especially! Check in on them. Just a quick hi once in a while can do wonders (lots of relationships fail due to lack of communication or miscommunication)

•listen to eachother

Arguements

•if something happens you can always walk away, make sure the other person understands that they can as well. Take time to collect yourselves and explain later why your upset

•be clear and ask for clarification where you need it

•fights can be scary but dont think that someone will leave you after one

•try to steer clear of insults/threats/blackmail if your angry, thats hard to repair after

Trust

•i know its hard to trust and you can take all the time you need to learn how, but making healthy relationships is a good way to learn trust.

•Dont lie to them or you will get caught up in trying to keep it under wraps (unless its to protect your safety, in that case maybe being around this person is not a good idea), not only will they not trust you but you wont give yourself the opportunity to trust them

Kindness

•be nice. Its simple. Good people, the people that will make for great friends/support/family will be kind back! Go out and meet people! Youll make friends! Just give yourself a chance!

•treat other how you deserve to be treated, with all the love and kindess you should have gotten! They will pay it back, they will love you!

Other notes

•express interest in their interests. You dont have to be a big fan, people will want to show you what they like when they like you. They're sharing something special to them. So ask about it! You dont have to engage much with it, but show them their interests have value. It will make them really happy, and they should be open to yours as well.

•do fun shit together! Something you both enjoy! If there isnt anything that overlaps you can do your own stuff in eachothers company. Just hanging out with them is enough.

•being able to love someone else, is to love yourself. You're filled with so much compassion and care for this person, and they will feel the same. They will be their to love you when life hits the fan.

•again take your time, it can be hard to get right. If it doesn't work out thats an experience you can carry into the next relationship, something to learn from.

Caution:

-make sure they actually make you happy and treat you well, not that theyre just the first person you could latch onto

-make sure you both have personal freedoms, your loyalty to eachother should not come at that cost

-keep yourself safe, safety comes first

Finding good people is a very important one as well, if anyone needs i could try explaining that too. Hope this helps.

Hey thank you for sending this manual!

Yeah your situation is extreme, I'm thinking about you and hoping that you get to experience freedom.

Your manual sounds really nice and is filled with common sense, and I've been following these types of guidelines for most of my life, but still had absolutely no luck. The thing is, this would work if you're surrounded with kind, understanding, non-abusive, friendly people who also just wanted to be friends with you and reciprocate and earn your trust and keep you in your life.

However a lot of people will see your friendly, kind, compassionate and communicative nature and decide to make use of it. It's been the hardest thing for me to realize when the other person is just pretending to be friendly back, in order to exploit me. It's really difficult to take distance from someone when they make you feel guilty for it and attack you for it, and it's hard to not feel guilty and betrayed when it happens. Manipulative people make great use of trust and communication you give them! Treating them with love and kindness will often get you in a situation where love and kindness will be expected, or demanded out of you, while you find yourself unable to ask even for some patience and space for yourself. And I'm worried that this is the situation for most abused people, we're often trying so hard to be kind, communicative, trusting, interested, loyal, patient, giving, caring, compassionate, and they zero in on that and eat it up, taking some time to make us let our guard down, before they start banking on us being in their service.

I have been trying to find good people all of my life, and fell unsuccessful, and I've tried hundreds of people, created a system of red flags that make me drop them, and had to drop pretty much everyone. And it's not as if this manual is generally bad, or I've just sucked so much at communicating and building boundaries, it's just, really difficult after abuse to feel okay around people, and to not be bothered by some of their manipulative nature - it hurts us more than it hurts others.

So even as I'm really bad with people, I can't recommend being very kind, trusting or communicative, of course it's nice if you can be that and not get hurt for it, but I absolutely cannot. It never happened once in my life, that someone returned the same kindness, love and care I gave them, and it often broke my heart. I would have to be very naive to still believe that I just haven't done it for the right person - hundreds of people reacted similarly, took what they could, then either turned on me, hurt me and pretended it was okay and I should stop being sensitive, or abandoned me altogether if I ever stood up to them.

This all is not your fault, and I can completely understand how you sent in these instructions with best of intentions, sincerely believing that this is the key to healthy relationships. It seemed like that to me too, when I was younger! I fully believed this would work, kind people would see me and return the kindness, it would be okay. The only thing I can recommend is the stuff you have under caution - if someone fails to reciprocate, or reciprocates at first and then stops reciprocating, get distance. If your freedom around this person is limited, get away, get distance. If they start treating you worse at any point, get distance. It's not worth ending up in another abusive, neglected or scary situation just for the hope of human connection. And it's also really difficult for an abused person tell when they're being neglected, treated badly or their kindness is not reciprocated, just because we've already been used to so much worse, so anyone not outright threatening to kill us seems like a nice enough person who deserves our whole heart. They often do not.

[thefolkyfaery]

Sometimes I feel conversations surrounding ace-spec and aro-spec experiences are presented to monolithic. Of course I'm not referring to when people are specifically describing their own experience; however, when speaking about the communities as a whole I wish there was more emphasis on the diversity of experiences amongst ace and aro people. I'm not saying this is always an issue in ace and aro spaces, but it has negatively affected me personally. If this isn't something that you've noticed that's fair. Maybe this is a niche topic, not sure.

For example when people broadly say aromantic people don't date that generalization feels exclusionary to me. A lot of aromantic people myself included do date and even if most aromantic people don't date it doesn't make that generalization a good representation of the community as a whole. I have a similar issue when people broadly say asexuals don't have sex. My friend's old partner one time essentially harassed me in my own discord server for identifying as a sex favorable asexual because I was apparently misrepresenting the community. She also repeatedly told me it just sounded like I'm demisexual.

Though I don't personally identify as demisexual or demiromantic myself I do have the impression this issue is part of why demi people are often so othered. I've noticed this in the ace community especially, demisexuals are sometimes othered and seemingly seen as kind of separate from the ace community. I think this is also because demisexuality is a very misunderstood identity too. I just wanted to highlight demi erasure because I think it's a part of this conversation even though I'm not demi myself.

I think in conversations about asexuality and aromanticism it's sometimes forgotten the orientations describe having little or no sexual and/or romantic attraction. Having little or no attraction doesn't necessarily dictate your desires. Yes asexual and aromantic can also describe a disconnect from normative societal expectations, due to feeling repulsed by sex/romance, or being uninterested in sexual/romantic relationships, but they're not mutually exclusive. You can have little or no sexual attraction or romantic attraction and still be interested in sex and/or dating. You can want to participate in traditionally sexual coded and/or romantic coded things and still be asexual and/or aromantic. Both are valid experiences that should be equally represented while defining the community as a whole.

Rather than saying, "aromantic people don't date" if that person said, "a lot of aromantic people don't date" I feel simply including the "a lot of" part would make the statement so much more inclusive. I recognize that it's likely most asexuals don't engage in sex and it's likely most aromantics don't engage in romance as a part of their asexuality or aromanticism, but that doesn't change that there's still a chunk of ace and/or aro people who do.

I feel kinda bad making such a big deal of this, but again it is something that has genuinely negatively affected me. I understand do to amatonormativity not being interested in sex or romance can be an extremely alienating experience in our society and I want to respect that. I understand why it's so important emphasizing the validity of not being interested in a sexual or romantic relationship for example and I want to uplift aces and aros with that experience so I feel kind of shitty making a big deal out of this. I recognize because I do date for example in that way I fit more into amatonormative standards and I'm not trying to overlook that. At the same time as an aroace who does participate in sex, dates, etc I often feel like I don't exactly belong in either space which is very frustrating.

I just wanted to share my feelings on this and feel free to give constructive critique.

[simplywhytney]

Thoughts...

It's black history month here in the U.S. And as the saying goes, "I'm black every month, but this month I'm blackity black black". It feels even more important than ever before to assert my blackness.

A lot of people argue about what it means to be black, they try to deny others of their identity. I know, because people, even my own relatives, tell me "you're not like other black people, your mom's friends aren't like other black people". But I remind everyone, that no experience and no black experience is alike. Which is why representation matters. It always has.

I was a voracious reader as a child, and I was ALWAYS looking for myself in the stories I read. As I grew older, I started searching for a version of me in the shows I watched. But when there was a black story, it was rarely about thriving black families, navigating their way through predominately white spaces.

For me, my black was/is normal. I grew up and now live in the south, in an area where tech is pretty influential. Both of my parents had college degrees. Both of them, at some point in their careers worked in tech. The friends they surrounded themselves with, were black and had college degrees. In the 80s, most of them had moved to the area to work for one of the oldest tech companies.

I get defensive, when people try to tell me that most black people aren't like me, I ask them, "how do you know?" and another question is, "why does it matter?" Maybe they aren't, but that doesn't make me any less black. My experience is still 'the black experience'. When I walk into any space, one of the first things people notice about me is that I'm black, after that I'm a woman.

What purpose does it serve, to try and tell people how they're different from others in their community. All that does is divide. It's what people in power have done for centuries, divide. If you can divide a community, you can pit them against each other rather than have them fight together against the true threat.

All of this is to say, when I share the stories in my head my goal is to just add more representation. I try and write/share what I know, and what I think is interesting. If I can't find me in what's already out there, I'll create a place for me. I think that makes sense.

So, I guess, let me introduce myself: I am an educated black woman in my 30s. I went to charter school, private school, a top public university for undergrad, and I have an MBA. I work in tech, but I am a story teller who enjoys art and travel. My current medium is The Sims 4. I like music, almost all genres. And I'm ashamed to say that in my adult years I've strayed from my bookworm hobbies. I am complex, but it's just simply me. It's all I can be, and all I've ever really wanted to be.

[undefeatablesin]

💕Positivity prime time! Share five things you love about yourself, four things you're excited about, OR three people you care deeply about and why. Pass this along to someone whose posts make you smile💕

Some positivity is exactly what the world needs right now! Thank you for thinking of and passing this message on to me ✨️

I would like to ramble about Four Exciting Things, since having things to look forward to is always helpful as a perspective check for me in particular and hopefully some other people can find something to feel excited about too! ✨️

1) I'm excited to continue refining my art until it reaches a quality I can be unambiguously proud of. We never stop growing as creatives, but we do eventually reach a baseline of accomplishment with our craft. I don't think I am at that baseline yet by a long shot. I have a lot to learn and even though I love the process of learning too, I look forward to the day that I feel accomplished in my work.

How that accomplishment can be defined though is different for everyone. It might be a tangible metric like mastering a certain medium, finding a style, finishing a project or creating a certain piece. Even something as simple as learning to draw a subject that's always stumped them. Sometimes its something more ambiguous, just the feeling or the sense of getting to where you wanted to be. Or in my case, a handful of these things all at once!

2) I'm excited to play new games. Since joining the Soulsborne community, I've been surrounded by incredible experiences, amazing art, beautiful music, thought-provoking discussions and more that has enriched my life beyond what I could ever have imagined. I'm always hungry for more though, and I am constantly looking forward to the next new adventure our community will set out upon even while I repeatedly replay the ones we already have.

That said, I do have my finger to the pulse of a certain imminent DLC right now in particular and I can't tell you how excited I am to finally play it!

3) I'm excited to one day step into the world of video, streaming and other similar creative pursuits. I've been talking about this for ages on my blog by now and have hesitated to commit to any of it, admittedly out of pure uncertainty. The internet is already so populated with skilled and established people that it can feel a little daunting to try and step into that arena as a newcomer.

In general, in a lot of spaces, it's easy to feel like you have nothing new or substantial to offer. But it's the individual themself that brings that newness and substance. Every person has their own cadence, their own style, their own ideas, their own quirks and nuances, their own personality. By and large, those are the things that sell people on your work more than the nature of the work itself in many cases.

It's also important to temper your expectations of yourself. Success often isn't what's important; it's whether you feel fulfilled by what you do. The needle obviously shifts quite a bit towards numbers and engagement and success when your craft is in fact your job, and that is a separate, more complicated conversation. But if your craft is not your business, don't trick yourself into treating it like a business, much less one that lives or dies by the number of likes, shares, views or any other metric it receives.

This is a lesson I've been trying to internalise: the point of creating is simply to create. I'm excited to finally embrace that idea and to fall in love with experimenting for the sheer joy of it again.

4) I'm excited to discover. There's so many things to see, smell, taste, hear and touch. There's millions of new experiences I can't even conceive of that are waiting for us, big or small, thrilling or mundane. Discovering a new song, a new piece of media, a new tool to draw with, a new technique to try, a new food to taste, a new friend to meet, a new idea, a new hobby.

There is always newness even in a world that feels stagnant. I look forward to the things I don't even know I am looking forward to yet. I think there is something very comforting in knowing that, inevitably, something new will come along to enrich our lives even in the smallest of ways, and it can happen today, tomorrow, next week or next year. The unknown can be full of frightening things, but it is equally filled with exciting ones. Even when I feel my worst, I try to remind myself to be excited for the little mysteries.

[myloveforhergoeson]

ash's may 2024 reading round up

find all the books and fics i read this (more like last...) month under the cut with a link to the synopsis and my reviews/ratings attached :)

this is just for fun! i'm not a professional, i just like to read <3

booklist!

Wotakoi: Love is Hard for Otaku by Fujita

(no link to an official author website bc i couldn't find one, but i bought all six books at barnes and noble!)

• review: full disclosure, this is not my first time reading this six book manga series, nor will it be the last. it's one of my favorite stories of all time and i pick it up whenever i need some comfort or reassurance :) wotakoi is three interwoven stories about adults navigating the grown up world while still harboring a love for their favorite manga/anime/videogames and whatnot from their childhood; some are unashamed of this fact like the mmc hirotaka who is unabashedly consumed by his love of videogames, while others have had bad experiences with others after being "outed" for lack of a better term like his childhood best friend and eventual girlfriend fmc narumi who does everything to hide the fact she is a fujoshi mangaka and anime obsessed girlie! the two reconnect after many years of being apart by learning they were offered the same corporate job and rekindle their friendship --> relationship :) literally has me in tears i love childhood best friends soooooooo much. there, the two make friends with the other main couple, mmc kabakura (moderate otaku, loves anime) and fmc koyanagi (crossplayer otaku). later on in the series we also get to know hirotaka's little brother noya (non-otaku!!) strike up a friendship and eventual relationship with ko (a socially anxious videogame otaku). i think it's just such well written about adulthood and learning to be who you are without fear of judgement from others. hirotaka helps narumi work through her past fears and anxieties, discovering together they they are able to surround themselves with people who love them for who they are and share the same interests. i also really love that all three relationships are distinct from other other, one being a rekindling of an old friendship --> lovers, one being long established, and one being so fresh and brand new the two don't even realize they have feelings for each other!! i could go on and on about this series, but i always feel so warm and loved after reading it <3 literally could not recommend enough. and if you're not a big fan of manga, the story has a one season anime out too!

• rating: 5/5 times i was reminded i love my friends <3 one of my favorite manga series ever!!!

2. Unfortunately Yours by Tessa Bailey (18+!)

• review: ughghsuiohaiofaobfa tessa girl i love you soooooo much so much so much so much. but idk this one was just kind of mid. run of the mill story, not characters i was super interested it, but i enjoyed it nonetheless. if you read my april review, i read the first book in this duology, secretly yours, and i really loved it! this book was about julien's sister, natalie, and her somewhat enemies to lovers relationship with navy seal turned winemaker august. due to a series of unfortunate circumstances, natialie and august find themselves in need of lots of money very, very fast. the only issue is natalie's father is old school misogynist and won't release her trust fund until after she's married, and august can't receive a business loan until he's a well established member of the napa valley community and has at least one employee besides himself at his winery. the solution? a marriage of convenience, of course, until these two get exactly what they need from each other. the issue? they have a less than stellar past with each other and a whole boatload of assumptions about their partner they slowly learn to unravel and relearn throughout the story. now normally im a suckerrr for marriage of convenience but idk i just don't think i cared for the characters enough to super be into this one. probably my least favorite tessa bailey book honestly, out of six or seven i've read? not because the story was bad, i just don't really think enemies to lovers really works in modern settings. there were lots of good parts though! bailey is a master of 'he fell first' and it is very clear that even after their rocky start, august really cares for natalie. despite the relationship starting as a sham, he's a wonderful husband and looks out for her among the community members, and most importantly, her own family. they were pretty electric together but i think that's their only redeeming quality for me lol. so yeah, not my favorite from tessa bailey, but i had a good time reading it. worth the flip through to have read both books in the series <3

• review: 3/5 times i thought "really? all this for some wine?"

fic list!

fake fanfiction reader i didn't complete any of the stories i'm reading in may... but i have been really enjoying reading the assorted btr works of partiallypearl and ceruleanmusings :)) i've read far more this month than the last, so june's list will be far more coherent i promise!!

[gascon-en-exil]

a non-FE question from a person with a tenuous familial connection to quebec (anglo father adopted by a québécois couple) who's always curious about the different francophone experiences: my dad spent a lot of time in new orleans and loved it, but how do the new orleans francophones generally regard the québécois? are there any particular culture clashes?

Unfortunately there aren't many actual culture clashes because there's so little contact. Louisiana and Québec are separated by thousands of kilometers and a national border, and everything from vastly different climates to separate experience with resisting forced assimilation has caused us to diverge from one another quite substantially. I'm glad that I've made friends in Québec, and it seems like every week we're discovering some point of commonality we share in spite of everything that divides us, but that's an entirely personal connection that I sought out myself. Just a few days ago for example a few of them were sharing this post on Facebook:

and they asked me to tell them more about Louisiana king cakes, our spin on the traditional French galettes des rois which are still prepared in Québec apparently just as they are in France.

But let's see if I can condense our biggest differences to some bullet points.

Language: Québec is well known for being a majority French-speaking province, whereas Louisiana is...not. Practically all of the Louisianais are fluent English speakers, because starting from the 1870s French in Louisiana was stigmatized and systemically excluded from education, business, and politics. In recent decades there have been attempts at reviving the language, but they've been slow to take root without a foundation in the home to build upon. Both the Louisianais and Québécois practice code switching (the linguistic term for switching between languages in casual conversation), albeit in opposite ways. The Québécois speak mostly French but will include occasional English words and phrases in their speech, whereas as mentioned the Louisianais primarily communicate in English but use a variety of French terms and names as well as direct English translations of French not used in standard English (ex. "making groceries," a literal translation of faire les courses). This stark contrast is because of...

Population and politics: I won't pretend to understand the Québécois political system in any real depth. I do get however that a large part of the reason that they've been able to maintain a limited degree of autonomy as well as preserve their language is that ethnic French people vastly outnumber Anglos in Québec, and Québec constitutes a much larger percentage of Canada's population and economy than Louisiana does the US's, even back in the 19th century when New Orleans was a much larger city relative to the rest of the US than it is today. Beginning shortly after the Louisiana Purchase, Anglo-Americans began moving into northern and central Louisiana, establishing settlements and slowly pushing southward toward and even into New Orleans. This combined with various political maneuvers that progressively weakened Creole control in the area - splitting what are now coastal Mississippi and Alabama, which had initially been settled by the French, off from Louisiana, moving the capital from New Orleans to a then-barely-inhabited upriver border fort: Baton Rouge, which is mostly Anglo-populated despite the name - resulted in the Louisianais having far less control over our own state than what the Québécois have. Compound that with the aforementioned stigmatization of the French language, and many of the Louisianais have been left feeling disenfranchised and unwilling to participate in national politics. Louisiana is a "red state," in US political parlance, because its biggest voting demographic consists of the very same sort of people that make up the surrounding Bible Belt. Speaking of...

Religion: Québec had its Quiet Revolution in the 1960s, largely removing the presence of the Catholic Church and moving closer to France's model of laïcité/secularism. By contrast, Catholicism is still a highly visible element of life and culture in southern Louisiana, and Catholic education continues to be the standard in New Orleans. This is down to several factors, ranging from the poor quality of public services (not helped, surely, by the voters of northern Louisiana who like US conservatives in general recoil in horror from anything that might be dubbed socialism) to a matter of cultural preservation. The Bible Belt is an aggressively Protestant region, dominated by denominations that have historically held Catholics in poor regard. The US at large also has a long history of anti-Catholic discrimination, particularly in large cities like Boston and Chicago where Catholic immigrants formed a large percentage of the working classes. Southern Louisiana, however, has been majority Catholic since the colony's founding over three centuries ago, and presided over by specifically Latin Catholics in spirit if not in actual practice for all that time. The Louisianais have used that to make allies of other Catholic populations who've moved here, mostly the Spanish and Italians but also more recent immigrants like the Vietnamese. While I wouldn't describe most of us as religious in the sense that the US conceives of that term (I'm certainly not), Catholicism is still a crucial part of our heritage and the preservation of this region as a cultural enclave. I've had trolls calling me a conservative religious nut job because I call myself a Catholic, and yet ironically here we associate the Church with the city's decadent and libertine atmosphere. The focus on visual aesthetics, the relaxed attitude toward alcohol and sex and even sin itself...it's all in sharp contrast to the austerity of Bible Belt Protestants who descend upon New Orleans at regular intervals to protest Mardi Gras and Decadence and call us the new Sodom and Gomorrah, etc. And finally...

Climate: I said it before and it's a comparatively much more straightforward issue, but it really does make a difference. When we're in the height of our social season courtesy of mild subtropical winters, Québec is buried under snow. The reverse is true in summer, which in Louisiana is long and lethally hot and humid and plagued by disease-bearing insects and the ever-present threat of hurricanes. This has also affected our cuisine. Louisiana has a rich and internationally-recognized culinary tradition that builds upon a French foundation with a wealth of local innovations based on crops that thrive in this climate as well as the bounty of the Gulf of Mexico. Québec has...poutine. Obviously I'm joking a bit there, but it's telling that there are multiple Louisiana-themed eateries in Montréal - but the reverse is not true. I've always heard that hot weather climates produce richer and more diverse cuisines than cold weather climates, and I suppose that in this case at least it's true.

[girlreviews]

Review #33: Back to Black, Amy Winehouse

Amy Winehouse, her music and her memory fills me with pain. I remember precisely the moment I found out she had succumbed to her insidious addiction. I was with my Mother, in West London, and we had enjoyed a nice afternoon (which was odd). It was suddenly overshadowed with news of Amy’s death. Every now and again the death of a “celebrity” has some weird intense impact on you. That was Amy for me.

She was a few years older than me and we stumbled around the same haunts in Camden and East London. Everyone had a story about her for better or worse. They knew her or had seen her. We were in the same orbit at the same time and she was an enigma to me. She was the butt of a ton of jokes — Halloween costumes of a pale thin woman with blood coming from her nose and the iconic beehive hair. It is so upsetting to say that this was even before her death. It says a great deal about where we were as a society and culture that a young woman with raw talent, real pain, and surrounded by people who didn’t have her best interests at heart was just commodified and used as comedy fodder. We love to hate women. We love to make it impossible for them to be human and to mercilessly destroy them when they dare to live their struggles openly. I feel so sorry. Not for her, but to her, for the cruelty and callousness she endured, all while she was clearly communicating her pain to us. Like, what the fuck?

There was no music around at the time that was anything like her. Her voice, still present, is like no other. I wonder if we will ever hear a voice like hers again, and songs that bare the soul in such a way. In Back to Black, Amy laments a painful relationship in which she “died a hundred times”. I’m not sure if this is a feeling that is relatable for most, or whether it’s somewhat unique to people who have had lived particular experiences. I just know that I’ve been there. I don’t know how many times a painful relationship has made me feel this way. I just know it’s too many. I sometimes don’t know how anybody gets through this life and keeps it together. The people who don’t are the ones who are honest and vulnerable, and we treat them like shit.

I can’t quite figure how that was how it went. So clearly a sensitive soul overwhelmed by a talent and voice that was bigger than her increasingly tiny frame. How could we hear these words (Love Is A Losing Game) and not show some empathy?

“Though I battle blind

Love is a fate resigned

Memories mar my mind

Love is a fate resigned

Over futile odds

And laughed at by the gods

And now, the final frame

Love is a losing game”

This album was written by a woman who was not yet even 28, and when you listen to it, nearly 20 years later, that’s absolutely mind blowing. Even just the title of My Tears Dry On Their Own always knocked me off my feet. She felt alone in her pain. I always loved that song. It’s genius in being so sad and full of heartbreak but accompanied by big band bombasticness and a bouncy tempo:

“I cannot play myself again

I should just be my own best friend

Not fuck myself in the head with stupid men

He walks away

The sun goes down

He takes the day, but I am grown

And in your way

My blue shade

My tears dry on their own”

Fucking poetry. This woman wore her heart on her sleeve and told us all exactly how she felt and was still reduced to tabloid frenzied content. I don’t know man, it distressed me then and I feel no differently now. I feel it even more if anything. It leaves me feeling hopeless about humanity — and there are plenty of objectively more important things to feel hopeless about in the present day. I don’t even know how to work through that.

It took fucking balls and courage to share the songs she shared with us, and it’s no surprise she was shat on. She had the audacity to pen Addiction, a song about needing weed more than the love of a man:

“I'm my own man

So when will you learn

That you got a man but I gots to burn?

Don't make no difference if I end up alone

I'd rather have myself and smoke my home grown

Oh, it's got me addicted

Does more than any dick did”

She was her own man too. And still had the space to try to love. Ugh. In Cupid, she lays it all out, yet again:

“I don't want to bother you but I'm in distress

There's danger of me losing all my happiness

I love a man who doesn't know I exist

And this you can fix”

No comment.

These reviews are unimportant and read by few, but I do feel weirdly personal about this album and about Amy Winehouse. She deserved better and I despair at the reality of her short life. Things could have been different for her. Even in death her memory is manipulated and peddled for profit. Let the god damn woman rest. Leave her alone. Let her songs be her memory and nothing else. Fuck these clowns, especially the clown that is her father. Fuck him, fuck tabloid papers and the motherfuckers who run them, and fuck anyone who dared to diminish such beauty and talent so brazenly.

If it needs to be said: a PSA that a great deal of posthumous Amy content — including the upcoming biopic — are money grabs that dishonor a real persons life, memory, and legacy. Retelling a story that frankly isn’t theirs to tell and with shitty motives. Anyone that really cared for her wants nothing to do with it, and that tells you everything you need to know. If you wish to get to know Amy Winehouse, listen to her songs. I yield my time.