#calum and flowers

[edge-oftheworld]

some things 5sos fans long to hear in july 2024

The full song of hey! hey! don’t you hide all your pain that was cut from blood on the drums

Whatever calum is up to at any given moment and what he did with the songs he wrote in lockdown and does he have a helicopter license (we’re interviewing him now)

When did luke get time to train to be an electrician?

Flowers by luke hemmings (the song, cut from boy ep)

Michaels Dropbox username and password

Whatever the fuck went on in the meeting when they decided what to put in their palestine friends of friends post

[sugarcoatedvein]

- its a cruel summer with u -

[uroborosymphony]

𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 // 🚫

1. calum cooking for them on a saturday night. / 2. rose infused gin with petals and lime at the Black Velvet. / 3. selfie in the car on her way to a luxury shopping spree. / 4. calum and sol on a sunday walk with her and luna. / 5. painting at home with music on the background . / 6. a bouquet of fresh white roses left by her pillow.

[withwritersblock]

That Place Above

~Heaven by Calum Scott~

Author's Note: Requested! I already have a story titled Heaven so I used a lyric, also this song gives wedding vibes and it's wedding season soooo. Summary: Luke goes to Y/N's sister's wedding Warnings: none? Word count: 1,426 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

There was something about weddings that Y/N adored. Maybe it was the love in the air, maybe it was the hours of dancing, maybe it was the way people get reminded of what being in love looks like. She’s always gone to weddings single, never once experiencing it with someone by her side.

Except this time. Her sister was getting married and she was the maid of honor. The maid of honor with a date to the wedding. It took a bit of convincing since Luke has only been around her extended family once before. He was nervous to spend the ceremony alone but her brother promised to keep him company. 

She linked arms with the best man, Brandon, as they began to walk down the isle together. Y/N was teary eyed all day, fighting off the tears of joy as she watched her sister get ready for the biggest day of her life. 

The satin pastel pink dress looked stunning on her as she began walking down the aisle with all of the eyes on her. Brandon and Y/N were the last pair to enter the church before the bride and her father came out. 

She was smiling towards all of the familiar faces of her extended family and friends. Many were teary eyed but had wide smiles on their faces. Her eyes landed on the boy that was her’s a few aisles up. He was fighting off a wide grin on his face as he bit his bottom lip. His cheeks were bright pink as he kept his gaze on Y/N. He was the only one ecstatic to see Y/N and not the bride.

He stopped fighting his grin once she was closer. Her hand was dangling beside her as she reached it slightly towards him. He reached his hand over, squeezing it as she walked past him. She looked towards him, smiling widely towards him. 

Meeting his gaze, she felt her eyes get more teary as she looked towards him. He let go of her hand almost as quickly as he took a hold of it. She continued towards the front of the church, parting ways from Brandon as she stood beside the other bridesmaids.

Waiting for her sister to walk down the aisle her gaze switched over to Luke. His lips were curled up in a soft smile as he was staring towards her. Y/N met his gaze and winked towards him as she brushed a piece of hair away from her face.

The music began to play and the guest stood up, she watched Luke stand up and adjust his dark brown suit jacket. Y/N shifted her gaze towards her sister and her father as they began to walk down the aisle together. 

It was a gorgeous ceremony, Y/N was crying the whole time. It was impossible not to be overjoyed over her older sister finally marrying her high school sweetheart. 

“You may kiss the bride,” the preacher said as Joshua gladly took a hold of Lila’s waist and pulled her towards him. He kissed her urgently in the most romantic way. Everyone erupted into applause and whistles as the couple shared a dramatic kiss. Something the couple was always known for, they always had the flair for drama. 

The ceremony was beautiful, but Luke was only paying attention to Y/N. She was the most gorgeous she has ever been. And that was saying something because every time he’s seen her she looks more and more beautiful. But standing up there, holding a boutique of flowers, a soft grin on her lips, she was so stunning. 

The reception was beginning and the bridal party as well as the bride and groom were making a grand entrance. Lila and Joshua couldn’t do anything simply. All of the bridal party began charging into the reception, dancing and putting on a show. Luke was sitting beside her brother, Mason, and the pair were laughing hysterically at the dances. 

It was nightclub music, dramatic Pauly D style beats. The guests began to cheer the loudest when Lila and Joshua entered the reception, the music slowly faded into regular wedding dance music. The bridal party began making through way through the party. Y/N would be lying if she said that she didn’t head directly to Luke.

Her smile widened as she saw him stand up and walk towards her. She quickened her step as she excitedly lunged towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He smiled widely as he wrapped his arms around her waist, picking her up. “Hey beauty,” he whispered into her ear as he slowly placed her back onto the ground. 

“Hey Lukey boy,” she mumbled as she pulled away from him. He delicately rested his hands onto her waist. “Did you survive without me?” she asked teasingly. He rolled his eyes as he pulled her towards him. She rested her head onto his chest as she stared towards her little brother. Before Luke became Y/N’s boyfriend, Mason was obsessed with the Hughes brothers. So he didn’t mind one on one time with Luke.

“You’re brother kept me company with his sobbing over your sister,” Luke teased. 

“I wasn’t sobbing,” Mason defended as he stood up slapping his hand onto Luke’s back. “It was emotional watching my big sister,” he mumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“It was pretty sweet, right?” Y/N offered as she lifted her head to meet Luke’s gaze. He pressed his lips to the top of her head as he slowly pulled away, pulling out her chair. She gladly accepted as she sat down. “Are you boys ready to dance?” she asked teasingly as she watched Luke sit down beside her.

His face scrunched up, “I agreed to that, didn’t I?” Luke mumbled as he shifted his gaze towards Y/N. She rested her hand onto his thigh as she smiled towards him.

“It’s okay, once you get a few shots in you, you’ll be dancing up a storm,” she teased. He rolled his eyes playfully as he leaned towards her, pressing his lips to her cheek.

“You’re probably right,” he mumbled as he pulled out his phone to take a quick photo with Y/N. She smirked as she tilted her head to the side and rested it onto his shoulder as she smiled softly. He took a few pictures before he pulled it back into his pocket.

~

It was several hours into the reception and Y/N was right. Luke had no problem with dancing after a few shots. Y/N and Luke were always at the center of the dance floor. The music began to slow again as the slow dance for everyone began to start. It was a slow Zach Bryan song began to play.

A grin slowly formed onto Luke’s lips, “Come ‘ere,” he mumbled as he excitedly rested his hands onto the small of her back, pulling her towards him. She excitedly rested her hands on the base of his neck as he pulled her towards him. His thumbs slowly rubbed small circles as he loosely held around her waist. 

Her fingertips ran into the short ends of his curls. Their eyes connected as she felt her lips curl upward softly. 

Weddings were always magical to her but something about being at a wedding with a partner was a different level of magic. Maybe it was the idea that one day, they would be the ones celebrating their marriage.

“I’m happy you invited me,” he mumbled as he scanned her features excitedly. 

“Yeah?” she offered, “You put up a good argument as to why not,” she teased as she tilted her head to the side. He pursed his lips forward as he rolled his eyes.

“We’ve been together for almost a year, I was worried you didn’t want me to come because it’s your sister’s wedding. That’s a big deal. What if I become that random guy in all of your family’s wedding photos. That’d be weird right?” he explained as they swayed along to the music.

“Not weird at all, unless you’re planning on breaking up withe me soon,” she offered half jokingly. 

“Now why would I ever want to do that?” he said jokingly as he leaned towards her, asking for a kiss. She smiled softly before she leaned towards him, kissing him for a few moments. “I love you,” he mumbled against her lips before he leaned towards her kissing her urgently again.

[cha-melodius]

2024 Writing Roundup

This one went around last year but I don't THINK I've seen it turn up this year? If it has, please excuse me, especially if you tagged me. 😂

This month marks the 36th month in a row that I've published at least one fic—since January 2022. Insane, I know, but I'm very proud of this streak, especially keeping it going in the midst of writing/posting long fics. I published 17 fics this year, which was considerably fewer than my 31 last year, but my wordcount was almost the same (more stats coming in my year in review at the actual end of the year). Here they are, by month!

JANUARY

Trying My Patience (Try Pink Carnations) (RWRB, E, 5.7k) Florist!Henry and cake artist!Alex have to work together for a wedding last minute

FEBRUARY

Ain't No Place for a Better Man (Lokius, M, 3k) Old west AU, the notorious bandit Loki tangles with gun-for-hire Mobius

MARCH

False Dichotomy (RWRB, E, 62k) You've Got Mail AU, indie bookstore owner Alex and corporate bookstore heir Henry fall in love over email

APRIL

So Close to Something Better Left Unknown (RWRB, E, 20.2k) CIA agent Alex and MI6 agent Henry unwillingly collaborate a mission where Henry gets dosed with a sex pollen drug

The Hazards of Unsolicited Toy Advice (RWRB, T, 2.2k) Henry gives Alex dog toy advice at the pet store.

The Impossible Soul (RWRB, M, 7.2k) Westworld-esque AU. First Son Alex falls in love with an android named Henry at Kensington Palace

MAY

No Ordinary Friend (The Pairing, M, 3.5k) The Calums' story, from Monaco to Palermo

JUNE

Kiss Me Like You Mean It (Firstprince Edition) Kiss Me Like You Mean It (Lokius Edition) Various kiss ficlets from tumblr prompts

Body and Soul(mate) (RWRB, E, 39k) Soulmate bodyswap AU featuring MI6 agent Henry and lawyer Alex, who gets unwillingly pulled into the thick of a mission

JULY

Our Get Along Oodie (RWRB, E, 7.7k) Grad student AU; 3 times Alex and Henry were forced to share the couples oodie and 1 when they shared because they wanted to

AUGUST

Tonight, You're Gold (RWRB, M, 6k) Olympics AU feat. beach volleyball Alex and sailor Henry, accidental roommates in the Olympic Village

SEPTEMBER

Flowers Only Grow Where There Are Seeds (RWRB, T, 4.1k) FSOTUS Alex falls in love with a White House gardener

OCTOBER

Infinitely Late at Night (RWRB, T, 2.7k) Alex is pretty sure the man at the Waffle House in the middle of the night is a vampire

NOVEMBER

Desperate Measures (Lokius, T, 5.3k) When a mission gone wrong strands them on a hostile planet, Loki pushes himself to his limits in order to save Mobius' life

DECEMBER

Since I Memorized Your Face (RWRB, E, 24k) Alex and Henry hooked up in college and find each other 20 years later—oh yeah, and they're soulmates

Not the Hero (RWRB, E, 61k) Fall Guy AU. Stuntman Alex and Director Henry are exes who have to work together on a movie, until the lead actor disappears

[Redacted] (TMFU) My fill for the annual TMFU winter holiday gift exchange.

Ok! Tagging a bunch of folks! @cricketnationrise @rmd-writes @clottedcreamfudge @tintagel-or-cockleshells @firenati0n

@blueeyedgrlwrites @iboatedhere @pippinoftheshire @porcelainmortal @thesleepyskipper

@kiwiana-writes @justabigoldnerd @three-drink-amy @eusuntgratie @faketrex

@orchidscript @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @14carrotghoul @sparklepocalypse @too-young-to-fall-in-love

@welcometololaland @indestructibleheart @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @suseagull5914

@leaves-of-laurelin @nicijones @mirilyawrites @onthewaytosomewhere @getmehighonmagic

[valentiyne]

𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 & 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗌 ☆ 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗎𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽

Calum Hood x Famous!Reader Summary: Requested! After 4 years of agreed no contact, one phone call and song takes back all that you've worked for. Warnings: Mild Cursing, Slight of Explicit Content. Word Count: 1k (not rlly proofread lol) Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

"So, Y/n tell us more about Calum Hood"

A name I hadn't heard in exactly 4 years to the very date.

48 months, 1461 days, and 35040 excruciating long fucking hours.

My face immediately lights up at the name nevertheless, brushing my hair behind my ear nervously,

"Hood? I'm not quite sure what this has to do with my upcoming EP coming out at midnight", I breathlessly laugh out, my eyes locking with the interviewer in front of me. My new work titled, "Bittersweet" was launching at midnight, only containing 4 songs to go along with the 4 bittersweet years I've spent away from him. It was hopeless of me to write about him, but he was the only source of inspiration I could find.

"Well you two had a bit of chemistry as far as we know, is that right?"

Sure we did. We spent over 6 years together on and off, but always came back to each other. He was my rock, my everything, but ultimately we knew it wasn't going to work out.

"Sure we did, I mean it was nothing but a mere innocent crush", I cross my legs now, my shaky hands clasped on top of my knees. The crowd was silent as excited fans packed into the small room to hear the soft launch before midnight.

"Well it was surely more than innocent", she motions to the screen next to us. "This picture was taken four years ago in Bali during the second leg of their tour", I mentally roll my eyes but smile anyway. A few people from the crowd squealed as the iconic picture of us in cuddled up on the beach was displayed, the same one he posted himself as an excuse to have me on his page.

"Like I said- It was a small crush" I was trying to convince myself more than everyone else.

I watch as the slideshow continues on, the screen filled with every single moment in time that Calum and I were spotted together across the world. A few innocent ones of us walking next to each other, to one taken on the balcony of a hotel. We were just kids who didn't know what they were doing- lost in the moment together. He will always have a place in my heart. When things ultimately ended, we both agreed to never speak again- it was only weighing each other down.

"Well I thank you for your time, I hope everyone enjoys the album and finds some comfort in the chaos", I stand up abruptly, extending my hand to shake the interviewer's hand. The crowd cheered quietly as I walked off the stage with a slight wave. I needed to get out of here, I felt like a complete idiot working myself up over someone that I no longer talked to.

I slipped past the stage crew as I shuffled out past the backdoors and towards the parking lot, my fingers fumbling with my keys as I tore my driver's door open and plopped down dramatically. The door shut behind me and I sighed to myself loudly,

That was fucking ridiculous, they didn't even ask anything about me. Just about someone I never wanted to mention. Of course, I could talk about him until the end of time, but it wasn't my place to do so anymore. He was playing sold-out shows every other day and had no worry about a girl back home who happened to have matching tattoos with him, right? The tattoo we shared was of a small flower underneath our ribs, the same flower he gave me on our one-year "situationshipversary" as he called it. It was a silly gesture that I treasured, the California wildflower that he pulled over on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway to pick during peak traffic on the way to my house. It now lay inside a small glass bottle hung around my neck, all wilted like our history.

I pull my phone from my purse, scrolling down to the bottom of my contact list, and clicking on the "DO NOT CALL!!!!" number. I hesitantly dial his number and bring it up to my ear,

"Hey! You reached Calum, I'm away from my phone right now but leave a message!", He declined it immediately, either that or his phone was dead. Not quite sure which one makes me feel better. I roll my eyes at the stupid prepubescent voice and turn my phone off.

I tossed my phone down onto my lap and leaned my head against the wheel. I subconsciously wanted to log back into my Instagram and scroll down an update page to find out anything about him. I had no idea what he was up to or who he was with, it's been years since I've last heard his voice.

"You know this isn't good for either of us, Y/n", he rang through my head as I remember standing on his porch in late July.

"Calum, we've been through this so many times- why can't we just try?"

He runs his hand through his freshly cut hair and shakes his head, "It never ends well, I feel like a fucking lost dog who always limps its way back to you.. I just- Fuck- I can't do thi-"

The last thing I remember was the door closing in my face, leaving me all alone with no closure. I could hear him on the other side, a thump on the door indicating he was leaning against it. I tried for the handle, jiggling it a few times before banging on it, begging for him to talk to me. I couldn't stay mad at him forever, as much as I wanted to. I wanted to scream at him, slap him in his beautiful face, and kiss him all at once.

My phone vibrating snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked down,

DO NOT CALL!!!!

My heart skips a beat, staring at my phone on my lap buzzing away. I bit my lip softly, pulling it closer to my face as I accepted the FaceTime call.

The camera was pointing to the ceiling when I answered, his voice booming loudly as he spoke.

"Hello?"

I let let a breath I didn't know I was holding, trying to gather the right words to say. What was I supposed to say after all this time?

"Cal?", my voice is softer than I had hoped for, the word slipping past my lip like it's begging to finally be let out.

"Holy shit", the camera shifts and he props it up against the wall, waving at me with one hand. Calum sits in his studio chair with his old bass in his lap, headphones pushed back against his long curly hair. His eyes are wide as he raises an eyebrow, "Shit, long time no see."

I adjust the camera against my steering wheel and scoot my seat back, allowing for a better view of myself as I smile innocently with an awkward wave. "Hi Cal, how ya been?" I see his eyes travel down to the necklace around my neck, my fingers dancing around the bottle as I speak.

"Shit, Y/n if I'd known it was you calling I would've answered way faster, I just had deleted your number-", he stops himself, looking up with a sympathetic crooked smile before sighing. I raise a hand up to reassure him instead, "Calum", god saying his name tugs at my heartstrings, "It's okay, I get it... we don't have to dance around it.. now what are you up to?"

He was lying, Calum hood was bluffing to my face and I had no idea. After all this time, he still had my contact listed as "My wildflower", but he couldn't dare admit to me that he didn't answer sooner because he was scared.

Scared of what I was going to say

Scared id tell him I found someone new

Scared of seeing or hearing me again

"I'm actually working on a song right now", he laughs and holds the iconic bass up, a small spot right under the strings that once had a star sticker I placed on it- now scraped off.

I make a face, reminding myself that that was the past and I shouldn't dwell on it too much, but seeing him happier without me didn't make me feel like I thought it would. A part of me wished he was as miserable as I was, cooped up in my room writing stupid songs that were confessing my raw feelings.

"What's it about?", I chirp up as he bends down to play a few notes on the keyboard next to him, assuming it's the intro.

"It's about someone that was in my life, uh someone you don't know- she came around afterward", he says slowly, not meeting my eyes through the screen. I just nod in agreement, opening my mouth to speak.

"Would you like to come over for dinner sometime this week?", The words flow out before I had time to think about it. As I wait for his response, I pick at my nails- a habit he absolutely hated. He would smack my hand out of my mouth every chance we were together, telling me "I'd get worms in my belly" I did stop for a while, but my bitten nails were the only reminder he was actually gone.

"Yeah, I would love to!- Look I'll let you go but we'll keep in touch alright?", He speaks quickly, his hand flying down in one swift movement. With that, he ends the FaceTime call and I'm left looking at my reflection. I looked dumbfounded, smiling to myself as wide as I could.

I couldn't let myself fall for this again, for him- we both knew it wasn't going to end well for either of us. But hell it's been 4 years and I've changed as a person, and by the looks of it, he has too.

My phone buzzed once, twice, and then three before I looked back up at it to see three new messages from none other than Hood.

DO NOT CALL!!!!: I kinda lied, you do know the person I wrote it about

DO NOT CALL!!!!: mp3.wildflower.calumdemo.rec

DO NOT CALL!!!!: my wildflower ;)

[onboardsorasora]

Very random idea I had, based on a silly conversation with @chaosinstigator and @mael-bloggy 🤣🤣🤣🤣 but I managed to make it fluffy (I'll do the rest of the proper linking and tagging tomorrow) not edited.

Part 16

Max placed the plastic plate of food on the breakfast table and chuckled when Little Daniel barely looked over from where he’d been staring at the television for the last half hour. They were back in Monaco, back at Max’s home– well it was also Daniel’s too. Max still felt that way.

Testing had gone on without any hitches and Little Daniel had enjoyed his extended time in the paddock. He was one of the mechanic crew now, ‘helping’ them do a practice pitstop and everything. His grin had been so large when he’d helped Calum use the wheel gun and he’d bounced around giddy, for hours.

“Daniel, you should eat your apples before they turn brown.” Max prompted, brushing wild curls backwards.

“Yucky brown.” Little Daniel declared, reaching blindly for a slice and chewing loudly. “Yum Maxy!”

“You like it? Thank you for telling me.”

Little Daniel grinned at him before his attention was arrested by the TV again. Max watched his familiar profile, once again fondly noting how it was achingly the same as when he was grown up. Even the mole in his hairline was the same.

They watched TV together while Little Daniel ate his snack. The documentary was focused on farms and agriculture, Little Daniel had surprisingly been hooked.

“Maxy! Look at the-the sheeps!” Little Daniel pointed as the sheepdog herded the fluffy animals.

“They're sheep, not sheeps.” Max corrected gently, “look at them go!”

Little Daniel looked over at Max quizzically, Max could see the gears turning in his head.

“But it's prulal- plural!” he insisted and Max bit back his smile.

“Yeah, but sheep is plural. So we don't add the S at the end.”

Little Daniel nodded, accepting Max's answer and turned back to the screen. He ate two more apple slices before “Maxy look at the baby shoop! He's naked! They tooked all his wool!” Little Daniel pointed to the screen, watching to see if Max was looking.

“They did! But it's not cold anymore so they did it to make sure he doesn't get too hot. Then he'll be an overheated sheep.”

“He's one! No plural Maxshy. He's a shoop!” Little Daniel corrected, waving an apple slice.

Max smiled fondly. “No he's a sheep. Sheep is singular and plural. It's weird I know.” He chuckled at Little Daniel's disbelieving face. It was the same face older Daniel gave when he thought Max gave him dubious information and thought he was fucking with him.

It felt like a punch to the gut, the ache. With how painfully familiar it was.

“No Maxshy. Teeth is with tooth so sheep is with shoop.” Little Daniel nodded at his own logic.

“You are a smarty pants aren't you?” Max grinned, thinking of a way to explain it. It was reminiscent of a similar conversation they'd had previously on Daniel's farm. When Daniel had laughingly told him that it'd taken him forever to accept the explanation about why sheep was singular and plural.

Max drew from Daniel's own explanation to him. He pulled Little Daniel into his lap, smiling down at trusting honey eyes.

“English is really silly but it's ooolllddd–”

“Like Helmut?” Little Daniel chirped around some apple and Max snorted.

“Like Helmut. And because it's old it was really really simple. Farmers had their herds and they referred to the herd as one unit instead of multiple animals within the herd. So it's a herd of sheep rather than a bunch of individual sheep. Liiikkee a bouquet of flowers instead of a couple flowers.” Max floundered for more examples while Little Daniel watched him consideringly.

“Like Maxshy and Daniel?” He asked and Max wanted to melt into a puddle, maybe.

“Yeah like us.” Max's voice wobbled and Daniel grinned at him before turning back to the TV that was now showing a herd of what looked like antelope.

Max stared at the slope of Little Daniel's nose and his wide curious eyes. They were a unit, a ‘them’. Max and Daniel, Daniel and Max.

And Max was determined that they would be again.

[maxybabyy]

”What?”

”Nothing, I’m just –” Gianpiero says and clears his throat.

“You are of course staring at me,” Max says, and Gianpiero knows that he is, but how could he not?

Max is soaked to the bone, hair drenched with sweat, and the thin, white shirt he had been wearing is now clinging to his chest. His face is flushed, and his breaths are fast, shallow from running himself ragged on the paddle court. He holds the seam of his shirt between long, elegant fingers and uses it to wipe his forehead, flashing the pale skin of his stomach – and even that looks a bit flushed.

“I’m just looking at you, Max,” Gianpiero says, and at least his voice sounds calm. “Is that not allowed?”

Gianpiero is always looking at Max, toMax, for Max. When it’s not his data, it’s always Max, in the car or on the sim. Two beers deep in a bar somewhere they shouldn’t have been, complaining about the car, the cats, Lando and his moods, or whatever has been stuck on his mind this week.

Gianpiero has looked at him in his bed, spread out beautifully in pale soft sheets. So utterly lovely and impossible at the same time.

Usually, Max will look back at him and smile, eyes crinkling at the corner because Max likes the attention. Of the world? Maybe. The media? Certainly not. But there’s a select few under whose eyes Max will beam with affection, like a flower blooming under the glow of the sun.

But Max doesn’t smile. His eyes don’t crinkle, and the line of his mouth goes taut.

“Don’t,” he says. “Not when –“

“I cannot look at you, Max? At my driver, at my –“

“No,” Max says, and it’s a far cry from the man who had dragged him to the paddle court in the first place, loose and happy with the weekend off. “Not when always you do nothing about it.”

“Max.”

Gianpiero doesn’t reach for him – not here, not with Robert and Calum just meters away – but his fingers twitch with the need to.

Max watches him for a second before he scoffs. He picks up his water bottle and stalks out, back tight with tension. And then, just before he leaves for the locker room, body poised not unlike a cat ready for the attack, “I owe you of course congratulations on the promotion, GP. You must be so happy, Red Bull also, no?”

It’s catty and mean, and Gianpiero is too old for this whole cat-and-mouse bit, but he goes after him anyway, gives chase until the door slams shut behind them.

“It helps to have the success of a three-times world champion behind you,” he says, and this time he does reach for Max.

He places one hand on Max’s hip, fingers slipping on sweaty skin as he bypasses where Max’s shorts sit tight. The other cups his jaw, fingers splayed wide on his throat, making Max look at him. Max doesn’t move away, but he’s always been like this: pliant under steady hands, malleable and yielding even in times where he shouldn’t.

Max swallows, and Gianpiero feels it against his hand.

“I thought –“ Max says but the words come out strangled. Voice cracking like it does sometimes in the car, loud and hilarious over the radio, reminding them both of how far he’s come since then, how far they’ve both come.

“Always we said when it is 2025, we would try,” he says with a rasp. “And then you –“

Gianpiero breathes out a heavy breath. His thumb strokes over Max’s cheek, skin slick with sweat but he doesn’t mind. A lot of their best moments have been with Max drenched in sweat.

“I don’t think it’s that easy, unfortunately,” he says softly. “The market is changing, and what teams want is –“

“Everyone wants you, GP,” Max says, blunt and a little mean. He twists out of Gianpiero’s hands to pace the space between lockers, his shoes heavy on the floor. “Fucking Vasseur trying to –“

“As I said, things change,” Gianpiero says softly. His shirt feels clammy against his skin, and he has a meeting at four, but that has to wait. “With Lewis, Bono said –“

“I do not give a fuck about Bono,” Max lashes out, head whipped around to stare at Gianpiero. “Or did he fuck Lewis also? Did he tell him he loved him and that they would of course be together and then forget about him? Did Bono do this also? Because he is then in lovely company.”

Gianpiero flinches at the words, at how they leave Max’s mouth. Pink lips pulled back in a snarl, flat teeth that he’s felt against his skin now ready for the attack.

“Max,” he says, searching for something softer, sweeter. But Max has always been Max to him, even when he wasn’t, and Gianpiero doesn’t like to think about that. “Max,” he says again and wills it to be as sweet as any other pet name.

“Did you ever think that’s why I’m doing this?” He asks. “I cannot be your race engineer and have the responsibility of putting you in the seat, fighting with you about a car that doesn’t drive like you want it to, and then come home with you to pretend everything is alright.”

“Why not?” Max asks, rudely if Gianpiero didn’t know him better.

Gianpiero knows Max has no problem separating what happens in racing from his personal life. So perhaps Max could make it work, chewing him out over the radio before crawling into bed with him, kissing him softly as he has before. But Gianpiero knows he couldn’t.

“I love you, Max, but it has to be right, and it has to make sense, for both of us,” he says.

He knows Max already has one foot out of the sport, knows if the car continues to drive like it does Max will leave. To Aston Martin or Mercedes, he doesn’t know, or perhaps even retirement. He knows Max wants him to follow, and that now only the latter is possible.

But Gianpiero isn’t ready to leave and more truthfully, isn’t ready to be in his mid-forties and live off his boyfriend’s money.

“When?” Max asks. He’s lost some of the fight, the tension in his shoulders all but gone, and he comes to Gianpiero easy, tucking his face into his throat. “When will it make sense?”

They both know the answer but neither of them wants to say it.

Even if it meant he would have Max like this, soft and lovely in his arms, he would lose the driver Max has become. And selfishly, Gianpiero isn’t ready for that either.

“Soon,” he says and pretends the words don’t taste bitter on his tongue as he leans in to kiss him.

[kquil]

SIRIUS BLACK | PRETTY EYES

request : ooh can i request a one-shot with sirius black doing the readers eyeliner please? <3 thank u so much baby xx —@corp0real

length : 0.5k

“Need some help with that, darling?” Sirius asks from the doorway as he stares fondly at your figure perched at the vanity, trying to complete your makeup with some eyeliner. 

Instead of answering his question directly, you huff and puff out your cheeks as Sirius approaches with a chuckle, “I don’t want to ruin my makeup underneath…” 

He coos at your whining and gently takes your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger, “my poor baby,” he pouts, jutting his bottom lip out prompting you to playfully mirror his mock expression, which he laughs at and leans down to press a kiss against your lips. 

“W-wait, Siri!” you stop him with a hand to his chest, “my lipstick is gonna smear,”

Undeterred, Sirius redirects his path and presses a kiss to your neck instead, “Well, good thing I still have other options,” he smirks against your skin and begins peppering kisses up and down the column of your neck as a stray hand creeps up your thigh, waiting for you to push him away. 

“Sirius, my eyeliner!” you refocus his attention after lightly slapping his hand away and bring your eyeliner to his line of sight him, “help me, please,”

“N'importe quoi pour mon amour,” he whispers, sitting down and bringing your face closer as he goes about helping you. 

“Hmm? What was that darling?”

“Anything for my love,” he translates and resists the urge to kiss your smiling lips. For several minutes Sirius takes absolute care in accentuating your eyes with the perfect shape, width and length of liner. He’s become somewhat of an expert seeing as he loves doing these small little gestures for you. He’ll gift you flowers; tie up your hair with the spare hair ties he carries around on his wrists for you, disguised as bracelets; tie your shoelaces; style your hair; paint your nails and more. All those little things have become second nature to him so that you feel his love for you as naturally as the sun breaks the horizon every morning. 

After some time the delicate strokes of the liner against your skin fades away. Sirius then blows some air onto your closed eyelids to tell you he’s finished and awaits the unveiling of your beautiful eyes. 

“Si beau,” he awes when you finally open your eyes and blink at him, the liner adding to your features and arming your stare with the most lethal weapon to his heart, “comment ai-je pu avoir autant de chance?” he whispers, leaning in and tilting his head as if to kiss you, only to stop at the last minute when he remembers your earlier comment. He’s about to lean back when you meet him halfway and kiss his lips sweetly. He doesn’t complain and kisses back. He’s smirking when you pull away but he also raises a brow to ask: why the change of heart?

“You know I love it when you speak French to me,” you sigh and his smirk grows all the more mischievous but there is mutual love in both your eyes. 

“Alors je ne m'arrêterai jamais,”

translations : (forgive me for any errors but i used google translate for all of these)

N'importe quoi pour mon amour : Anything for my love

Si beau : So beautiful

comment ai-je pu avoir autant de chance? : how did I get so lucky?

Alors je ne m'arrêterai jamais : Then I will never stop

a/n : im not doing these requests in order as some need more time than others but again, i hope i did this cute scenario justice and that you darlings enjoyed the read! also! im taking full advantage of the fact that sirius can speak french! ugh! he's so... AHHHHHH! (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄&lt;;⁄ ⁄)

navi.

taglist : @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @tiensmamains @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @rosaleenablack @samanddeansannoyingsis

[eywa-eveng]

ɪ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ’s ʟᴇғᴛ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ – ɴᴇʏᴛɪʀɪ & ᴊᴀᴋᴇ X ᶠᴱᴹ ᴼᴹᴬᵀᴵᴷᴬᵞᴬ ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ – 12.2k

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ – angst

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs – mentions of character death, mentions of war, ptsd, unrequited love

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ – A bit of a non-linear storyline here, but nothing too confusing.

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪsᴛ – @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @amiets2 @neteyamforlife @sunrays404 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @eternallyvenus @bobojojoba69 @behindthearcane @elegantkidfansoul @ladylovegood-69 @pinkiemme @arminsgfloll @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @onlyreadz @ghost-lantern @calums-betch @crazy4books1 @meladollsims @yeosxxx @sillyfreakfanparty

Light blooms underfoot, swelling and fading like ripples over water as faint syuratan rises to meet the shadows gathering beneath the night sky. The last dregs of amber sunlight pierce through the treetops like arrows, the warm light glowing like a flame behind the silhouetted canopy. The shades of firelight fade to blue darkness as the forest swallows the last whispers of daylight into the darkened horizon. A path towards the clan’s new settlement is carved in pale green light, each step echoed by the glowing moss blanketing the tree limbs. The newly lit plants burn brighter at the slightest touch, flaring as a breeze brushes through the trees, shuffling one leaf against another until entire branches are bright as torchlight. And when the wind settles the air is filled with the sweet taste of nectar, the hanging plants swarmed with insects that fill the night with their buzzing song. There’s always music in the forest, the sounds of life thrumming through the air like the distant voices of a forgotten lullaby. The chittering of nantang and the shrieking of riti, the thundering footfalls of ’angtsìk. 

The noises of the night build as the stars begin to dot the sky, swallowing your nearly soundless footfalls as you weave through the foliage, running along the twisted roots bridging the distance between the trees. The ground rushes up to meet you as you jump from the high perch, ears twitching towards a disturbance somewhere nearby that makes your landing sound like stones rolling down a hill, fumbling and clumsy. Loud enough to be worth a closer look as voices begin to break through the foliage, terse with agitation. Your feet are quick enough to catch the tail end of the confrontation. 

Hunters. Some mounted and others on foot. A mix of Na’vi and uniltìrantokx, separated by dignity and appearance. The sawtute are easy to parse from trueborn Na’vi, even at a distance. They’re like fiery red blossoms in a sea of yellow flowers, so plainly out of place. Speaking their human language and wearing their human clothes even when most of their kind have long since been banished from Pandora. The night had been clear when they left and a new star bloomed in the darkness, bright as a white flame in the deep blue sky. Most claim not to mourn the loss but others seem less inclined to surrender themselves to the Na’vi way of life. It is clear that the topic of disturbance involves such cultural differences as you creep closer. 

Someone cuts a biting remark, gruff and steeped in a thickening accent the more terse their words become. An uniltìrantokx returns the venom-stricken tone with their own heavy accent, Na’vi words sounding as intimidating as a child when spoken on such a foreign tongue. One of the mounted hunters cracks a smile, a sardonic laugh slipping past his lips. These avatars are like humans. Babies that need teaching especially after being so suddenly stripped away from their system of support. There aren’t many of them left in their place of human dwelling. That strange metal cave system that spirals out like the bloated roots of some shimmery plant. These are supposed to be the truly loyal humans. The kind humans left after the rot and ruin of the rest was scraped away. There are kind souls that remain but some are far too stubborn, like clay dug up from a riverbed and left to dry before it was fully molded into shape. They’re stiff and unchanging despite the offers to be taught your ways of life. 

It is a fair argument they are having from what you can hear at the fringes of the clearing. The avatars are being far too liberal with their bows. Eager arrows lead to messy kills and there is no reason to cause unneeded suffering for a lack of discipline. An injured animal will run if it is able and sawtute are far less adept at traversing these forests. It would be easy for them to lose their intended kill and leave the animal to suffer with an arrow in its hide. A mounted hunter says as much, pa’li unsteady beneath her, the direhorse churning up dirt beneath her hooves as her rider’s anger is surely reflected through tsaheylu. When the humans have nothing to say back the silence stretches like a rope pulled taut, slowly fraying under the strain until it snaps and the leader of the hunting party gives the gruff order to return home. 

The word still sets an ache in your chest like pressing against a bruise, dull and throbbing as “home” has changed shape. You follow in the trail of light left by the hunting party. Not towards Hometree that always stood above the forest like a fist punching towards the sky, but to grounded dwellings flanking the humans’ nearly abandoned home. The hunting party continues on after passing through the newly made village, escorting the avatars back to their massive metal kelku. Their refusal to learn has stunted their ability to be trusted in the forest alone. Truly like children that need to be guided lest they be met with an accident that could’ve been prevented with proper teachings. 

The sounds of the forest give way to a din of voices as green syuratan fades to bright orange firelight. It sounds much the same as Kelutral had, conversations mingled with laughter as everyone gathers around cookfires for their nightly meals. It’s far less communial with the separate homes of woven fabrics over wooden frames. Different sizes denoting the size of the family living within. Your own is modestly small, just large enough for one. Truly it was meant for an avatar if they felt more inclined to immerse themselves in village life but it went unused for so long that you took the honor of christening it as your own, sleeping here most days despite having mates of your own and a more homely kelku to return to. It’s been days of careful avoidance despite the olo’eyktan and tsakarem’s greatest efforts to draw you back to their side. 

Unexpectedly, it is Jake that has been more insistent rather than Neytiri. That was something you hadn’t thought to consider a possibility. His longing was enough to make you avoid any member of the clan altogether. You’ve shared no more than a few words with anyone in the days since Jake began sending his warriors chasing after your tail in an attempt to coax you back home. They’d come to you bearing gifts of delicate bracelets made with the rarest beads and feathered hair ornaments of the brightest colors, lingering for a moment to ponder over your rejection before trailing back to their leader with a defeated hunch to their shoulders. 

The fire you tend to is only just large enough for your purposes. This kelku is set every so slightly apart from the rest and a light flickering at the fringes of the village is sure to draw unneeded attention whether it’s a kind elder sending children to be sure you have enough to eat or another of Jake’s men coming to present you with another of his finely made gifts. His effort is wasted. Pretty adornments aren’t enough to stitch the wound that’s been scored across your very soul. So much has happened in so little time. So quickly that you were hardly given a moment to mourn. Even as the days fall away to the past with the rise and fall of the sun it still feels like a wound is festering in your heart, refusing to heal as old memories poke and prod, stinging in the back of your mind. No, a new necklace or freshly made arrows won’t be enough to soothe the pain you’re suffering. Everyone might have begun to move on, picking up the fragments of what was left behind to rebuild something new, something better, but you stayed there. Every night, in your dreams, the sky is raining ash and the People are screaming. 

The hunger leaves you as the taste of salt invades your mouth, memories of uncounted tears souring your appetite. The small fire is snuffed and the food is set aside with the intention to eat it should you wake with hunger pangs in the dead of night. Sleep has been an elusive thing in the time since the fall of Hometree. Something terrifying as your mind reminds you of the pain and betrayal. Over and over. And there is no place of solace to return to. No Utral Aymokriyä where you might hear some shred of happiness from those that have gone before you. Everything has been torn apart and reknit in a new shape and the only one that seems to truly notice the strangeness of it all is you. But life must go on. A tree does not stop growing when clouds cover the sun. 

Sleep is expectedly fitful, full of stuttered moments of jolted wakefulness that find your cheeks wet with tears. And when the hour is bright enough that you can banish any attempts at resting you rise and pad off into the pinkish light of dawn, nibbling on your cold dinner as you trail off into the forest before the rest of the village has time to wake. As usual there is no direction to your walking, no destination in mind. The only thought is to be away from the village and all the people that seem so foreign to you now. Not only are there more humans and avatars mingling with the People but even those that you were once close to seem to have a different face. And that is only those that remain. The rest were lost, gone to a place you can only reach in short grasping moments. 

Home is far away, in distance and in feeling. The new settlement feels nothing like home even as the clan has begun to rebuild. So many ancestral pieces were lost in the fall of Hometree. Totems and precious items passed down and preserved between the generations of the Omatikaya. Once you could touch something and know that hundreds of hands, long before your time, had touched the same place. Your favorite had been the wooden looms worn soft and smooth by the gentle hands of weavers that passed their craft down to their children and to their children until the knowledge found its way into your hands. All the memories since the time of the First Songs that had survived in the safety of Hometree, gone in an instant. Everything that the Omatikaya clan was, washed away like footprints in sand. 

Now these trees seem so foreign as you traverse through the morning light. In moving to settle closer to the humans’ dwelling the clan has been distanced from the lands you’ve known since birth. Hometree may have fallen but the estrangement seems unnecessary. Maybe to fledgling eyes the forest looks the same but here there are plants that didn’t grow close to Hometree. You’d grown up learning every patch of ferns and every bed of flowers and now you’d need to learn it all again. New berries that prefer the unfiltered sunlight where the humans cleared the trees away and new landmarks to lead you from one place to another in the sprawling forest. Moving was necessary but Jake chose not to claim a new Hometree for the clan and as olo’eyktan his word has become law. With Eytukan and Tsu’tey gone the burden of leading the clan has fallen to Toruk Makto. So strange that only a year ago he hadn’t even existed and now he is leading the People as if he was born to bear the honor when he only just passed his iknimaya. 

The ground is cold underfoot, drops of dew seeping into your skin and sending shivers up your back. The feeling is enough to keep your mind steady, to keep the memories at bay. On any given day you’re likely to slip into the past and be lost in your own mind, like a vision from a Spirit Tree. It seems memories are all you have as comfort as of late. With so much change, the past is the only thing that has remained steady. In your mind you can pretend that Hometree still stands, that Jake never arrived to complicate everything. But he has and here you stand, lonely in a foreign corner of the forest, wishing desperately that you were able to unravel the knot that’s been made of your life. What is so wrong with you that you can’t find happiness in the peace that’s been made now that the humans have been defeated. One war has ended and yet another wages inside you with no end in sight. 

The loneliness eats away at you but the alternative of acceptance seems so wholly unappealing, like eating a spoiled fruit. Resigning yourself to the same budding happiness the clan has been enjoying in the time since the final battle against the humans seems so strange after nearly a lifetime of fighting and uncertainty. Humans were on Pandora long before you were born and your childhood was spent in Grace’s schoolhouse with the looming threat of the tenuous bonds slowly fraying as the humans took more liberties with the lands that were not theirs to pillage and destroy. 

A sound rustles in the trees behind you, a soft brushing of leaves that could be nothing more than a breeze through the underbrush, but your bow is drawn towards the sound in an instant. The tension balled like a fist around your heart eases as a familiar face emerges through the foliage, but doesn’t abate completely as Jake steps into the light. His steps are slow and deliberate as if he were approaching a wounded animal but you hiss at her even still, embarrassed that you’d been so distracted in your thoughts that you lost track of your surroundings. Had you been paying attention you would’ve caught his scent before he made a sound. The same scent that’s always clung to Neytiri’s skin because she favors cooking with firewood that is more fragrant than most, making her food a hint sweeter when she eats it. It’s a smell that used to offer comfort but now it’s only the wisp of another memory that was burned to ash the moment Jake arrived to the clan. 

What would’ve changed if it hadn’t been you and Neytiri tasked with teaching him? Perhaps you wouldn’t have found yourself tangled in a mating bond shared between three people. A crowd compared to the traditional two. 

“What do you want?” You ask, lowering your bow even as your voice still bristles with hostility. 

Jake stalls in his approach. “What did I do, baby? What’s wrong?” In the time since he took up the mantle as olo’eyktan, Jake has begun to fully immerse himself in the ways of the People with more vigor than he had even before the fall of Hometree. He speaks in Na’vi when he can manage it but slips back into English when his tongue trips over an unknown word. But one word he’s never let go of is “baby.” A human term of endearment–not just a word for a newborn child–he’d explained once. Like yawne or paskalin it’s meant to show affection between mates. And despite that being what you are to each other you feel unsettled by the innocent word. 

He takes a step closer that you reward with your own backwards retreat. His brows pinch, ears drooping as his hands reach out as if he can bridge the gap between you with a simple touch. You’re worlds away from each other even as he stands so close. 

An uniltìrantokx, an alien. A human wearing the false face of one of the People. Yet he is also Na’vi, a son of the Omatikaya. He bears the title of olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto. He’s so close and yet so far. Once you would’ve met him in the middle, your hand reaching toward him. But now, knowing what he’s done…. Forgiveness is the farthest thing from your mind. Whatever friendship, whatever affection you’d once had for him has burned away to an aching emptiness. And even before it had begun to slowly unravel, thread by thread, breaking apart until you were left with a tenuous bond at best. Before Jake, before Sylwanin’s death, Neytiri had been yours. You understood her duty to the clan following her sister’s death. It was not her desire to become tsakarem, no nobility in the decision being made for her at the hands of the sawtute. Killing and taking with no remorse. She was betrothed to Tsu’tey and you accepted it as the way of things. 

Jake’s introduction to the clan had been tumultuous at best, but as Neytiri’s closest companion you found yourself joining in on their lessons. And watching her fall in love with someone that wasn’t you. At least, with Tsu’tey there had only been friendship. A mutual agreement to not disappoint the clan’s expectations despite their hearts belonging to another. With Jake, she had no such reservations. Neytiri loved him. Loves him. Yet she can’t let you go. Neither of them can. So now it is your time to do as duty suggests, even if your heart aches with the effort to pretend to accept Jake into your heart for all he is, for all he’s done. Banishing the humans from Pandora after so many years of suffering might’ve been enough for others, but when you look at him you see flames. 

“Everything you touch is destroyed.” The words slip out unbidden, before you can stop the bitterness from leaking off your lips and Jake stills as if you’ve struck him. The shock only lasts for a moment before he’s rushing towards you, arm winding around your waist as his four-fingered hand cups your cheek. The tears are unexpected as he wipes the wetness from your eyes. When did you start to cry? So long ago, truly. It seems the tears never stop, only taking brief moments of reprieve before stinging at your eyes once more. It feels like you’re being shattered, a river crystal smashed against a rock as glittering shards fly in every direction. Impossible to collect and rebuild. But Jake tries, so desperate does he seem to want to hold you together in his arms even as you come apart at the seams. You fight against him. Hissing and clawing like a hunted animal trying to preserve its life. Some innate piece of your mind knowing that a man like him is dangerous. 

Sawtute. Uniltìrantokx. The words are synonymous with death and the unknown. And Jake has proved that no matter how close you become, friends can turn to enemies in the blink of an eye. Lovers can turn to strangers. Happiness can wither into a type of sadness that never dissipates. Still, Jake tries to keep you together in his arms. Whispering and pleading, trying to soothe your sobbing. So long have you spent simply walking forward, one step at a time with only brief moments to think about how far you’ve come. But with those few words you’ve turned back to see all that was left behind and it’s tearing away at you. 

The ground is cold beneath your knees, the chill shivering through you as you fall. Jake hasn’t let you go, still keeping his arms around you as if you’ll turn to ash if he looks away for even a moment. Perhaps you will and wouldn’t it be better if you did? What is left for you now after so much has been taken? Everything has been stripped away. Friends, family. The few things that you thought would always be yours. Gone in an instant. 

You try to speak through the thickness in your throat, voice rough as stone when the words finally come out. “Get away.” Jake doesn’t seem to hear you but you say it again and again as you struggle to your feet. “Get away! Get away from me!” 

All you want is for things to be as they were. But you’re longing for a life you’ve never gotten to live. The humans were here long before you were. You’ve never known a life where they weren’t lingering just out of sight, corrupting your home to fit their alien desires. It burns in your chest, this desire to return to some semblance of normalcy and the knowing that everything in your life has always been precarious, balanced on the edge of a cliff. It seems that now you’ve finally fallen and there’s no knowing what will meet you at the bottom. Jake wants to catch you. You can see the desperation in his eyes as he tries to hold you, hear it in his voice as he begs you to stay with him. 

You’re here in mind and body, but your soul feels like it’s been gone for so long. Left behind in the smoldering remains of Hometree, left behind on the battlefield. Now you’ve only been living because you hadn’t truly died. And everyone has been pretending you’re still the same as you were. Jake is pretending you’re still the same woman he met all those months ago. Had it truly been a year since an ignorant dreamwalker had come stumbling into Hometree? He��d been nothing then. A new kind of uniltìrantokx that needed to be studied. A warrior in a new, untrained body. A chore for Neytiri as Mo’at dictated that it would be her that had to teach him the ways of the clan. Of course, she had made it your responsibility to assist her in the endeavor, ever grateful for every moment spent together even if it involved teaching a man the things a child would know. 

Truly, you’ve all changed since that moment. Jake has learned. Body and mind, he’s learned to walk as a true Na’vi does. It is clear that in his heart he is one of the People yet there’s still doubt in your mind. How, if he was so committed to the clan, had he let those monsters burn down your home with barely a word of warning? Yes, he led the battle to seek revenge and cull the plague of humans from Pandora, but if he had such determination why had he not done it sooner? Humans are secretive, duplicitous. Things that Na’vi had no concept of before their arrival. Your hearts are true and open. Yet Jake still had things to hide even after he became a son of the Omatikaya. Trusting him now feels like a mistake. Neytiri might’ve moved past it but you can’t find it in yourself to open your heart to such pain once more. 

The woman you loved has turned into someone you can’t recognize. Relaxing so easily into the days of peace even in the shadow of all that you’ve both lost. While your heart turned cold hers seems to have blossomed, open with a soft sort of hope. The humans are gone, the People are safe. So why can’t you move on with everyone else?

Jake touches your arm again, fingers tracing from the shape of your wrist up to your shoulder. The touch feels foreign after avoiding him for so long. It isn’t the distressed grasping as he tries to soothe your tears. It’s softer, less confining. 

“Let me help, baby. How can I help?” 

“Leave me alone.” He’s already shaking his head before you finish the words. 

“No. Don’t push me away, I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care how long it takes, I just want my girl back.” Back? Had you ever truly been his? 

It had been a mistake to not close your heart to Neytiri when she was promised to Tsu’tey. Had you been strong enough then to smother the seed of childhood affection, to rob it of rain and sun until it withered and died, perhaps you wouldn’t be standing here with tears burning in your eyes. It would’ve taken less strength then to do what feels impossible now. A stone has turned to a mountain far beyond your strength to move. Jake seems to notice your hesitance, his eyes flitting over your face for any crack he might be able to use as a way past your protective shell. He seems to find it, reaching over your shoulder to brush his fingers over the length of your tswin. He draws it forward with careful reverence, pressing a kiss over the braided hair before looking at you once more. It’s doubtless that he’s thinking of that night beneath the light of the Tree of Voices. 

A mistake if ever you’ve made one. 

Eclipse is close at hand when Neytiri broaches the thought of taking Jake to see the Utraya Mokri. 

“He is a son of the Omatikaya now,” she says gently, as if too much eagerness would startle you away from the idea. “Tonight would be the perfect night for his first commune with Eywa.” It is traditional for the first commune to happen soon after birth when memories are likely no more than colors and sounds and feelings. Jake is far past the age of first commune but as an outsider he hasn’t been allowed anywhere near such sacred places. When she sees your hesitation, Neytiri’s excitement softens. 

“Yawne, he is ready. He has learned and proven himself. Do you still doubt his heart?” You do, still so weary of humans. No matter how kind, the thought of ever fully trusting a human picks at the old wound left by Sylwanin’s death, but you hold your tongue against the words. Mentioning her sister would only spoil Neytiri’s mood. She’s happy. Truly and utterly, and it makes your heart hurt to see her so content when her heart is chanting another’s name. 

Jake. Jake. Jake. It’s all you’ve heard in recent times. No sunrise or sunset has gone without seeing the dreamwalker, hearing his name and seeing him walk beside the girl you once thought would be your mate. But she’s beautiful in her happiness. A shy smile playing on her lip as her tail curls playfully behind her. How could you ever disappoint her? And she is right. Jakesully has been accepted as a son of the Omatikaya. He is now no different in spirit than the boys you grew up with. You’ve watched him grow like a seedling sprouting into a tree, learning and changing as his human heart began to take the shape of something different. Yet you cannot completely forget his origins. 

“There will be a celebration at nightfall,” Neytiri’s ears droop in defeat, “if we can leave without notice, then we can go to the Tree of Voices.” Upset is immediately replaced with elation as Neytiri beams. 

“Will you help me prepare for tonight?” She asks coyly. The rest of the afternoon is spent in close proximity, skin against skin as you go about enjoying the simple intimacy of grooming Neytiri. She hums happily as you undo her braids. Washing and combing until her hair hangs down her back like a black river, tied back with a few sprigs of yellow leaves. She preens you in turn, caring for your hair with a practiced gentility before allowing you to leave to change into something more appropriate for the occasion. The most recent of your crafting was made with tonight in mind. Strings of tiny orange and yellow beads hanging over your chest in an undulating pattern, like sunlight sparkling off water. Your tewng is a bright shade of orange to match the band around your arm, hung in a cascade of feathers the colors of firelight. When night falls, music begins to drift up from the communal heart of Hometree. Drums thundering and voices singing as the celebration begins. Neytiri is easy to find beside her parents as they share words of congratulation for the newest members of the clan, and the sight of her snatches the breath from your lungs. 

She’s dressed more beautifully than you’ve ever seen her. A collection of deep purple beads trail like tree roots over her chest with matching bands swaying about her arms, and a violet-dyed loincloth slung around her hips. It dampens your mood to see Tsu’tey close beside her, jealousy burning in your chest. He has forgone more elaborate adornments for the occasion yet he looks no less out of place. His presence commands respect. He will be a wonderful olo’eyktan to Neytiri’s tsahìk. A beautiful couple waiting to be bonded. Your mood is only worsened as her eyes linger some distance away. On the group of newly made adults. On Jake. 

It tears at your heart like the twisting of a blade. Already you’ve had to accept a life without her truly by your side with Tsu’tey, though the union would be without true affection, but now she’s given her heart away to someone new. So strange how what once was alien looks nearly indistinguishable from the true Na’vi also being honored by tonight’s festivities. Some younger, some older, all joining the clan in adulthood. When the music begins in earnest, lines form to dance. Weaving between each other as bodies move to the beat of the drums. Jake has been staunch in his refusal to dance thus far, though his dreamwalker friend Norm seems open to learning. He’s a bit clumsy like a child learning to use his limbs as he follows along with the people trying to teach him, Na’vi words flowing with staunch formality from his lips despite the relaxed air of celebration. He waves as you walk past, somehow recognizing your face as a friendly one in the sea of people. Perhaps he’s seen Grace’s photographs from when you attended school and knows the shape of your pil to match your younger face. With some confusion, you wave back, cracking a small smile as he stumbles over his gangly feet again. 

With fermented drinks flowing freely, the wariness has been tempered enough for the clan to act freely even in the presence of guests. Grace is known within the village, a trusted teacher and ally despite what happened at the school. She wasn’t at fault, though you surely blamed her for a time after it happened. Because there was no one else to blame but the humans. The girl you had grown up with, your childhood friends, all slaughtered in the blink of an eye simply for protecting their home. Had you known of their plan it might’ve been your body that was torn apart by bullets. The thought sends shivers skittering down your spine, the dark shadow returning after the joyous occasion chased it away. 

In quieter moments you still mourn your losses caused by the Sky People. But Grace was also wounded, in body and spirit. You remember the blood dripping from the wound in her shoulder as she desperately pulled you away from Sylwanin, urging you outside as the soldiers closed in on the school. The last you’d seen of your teacher, she’d been putting herself between the soldiers and her students. She seems far more relaxed now as she laughs at something a man said to her, taking sparing sips of her drink as she watches the crowd. Ever the scientist wanting to study even under the most eased circumstances. The familiarity of it all soothes the hurt brought on by the memories.

Jake is occupied with Tsu’tey, the two of them sharing a drink. The group around them is chanting Jake’s name as he hisses around a mouthful of fermented juice. It seems so strange to see the two of them settled beside each other without any real reason. There’s no teaching, no exchanging of insults. They seem to almost be enjoying each other’s company. Tsu’tey had been keen on seeking the outsider’s death upon first meeting, as the whole of the clan’s warriors had been, but he seems not to have grown out of the animosity little by little. If anything, his distaste must’ve grown stronger in the convening months as Jake grew closer to the woman that was meant to be his. But the celebration seems to be reason enough to set aside conflicting feelings as Tsu’tey passes Jake another cup, urging him to take another drink. You think to join them but are stopped by the brush of something against your tail. 

Hands find your waist, slim fingers tracing over the shape of stripes streaked there. Neytiri’s scent is easily recognized. Something sweet and smoldering as she pulls you close. There are more couples around you, all dancing just as intimately. Twirling and bouncing, hardly parting as the music guides your steps. She’s so beautiful in the firelight. Bright eyes and long lashes that flutter towards the ground as a bashful smile finds her lips. Her tail brushes your leg, curling over the shape of your thigh in a flirtatious display that you reward with a playful hiss. Neytiri giggles at the feigned aggression, pulling you closer by your hips until you’re no longer dancing, only swaying to the music as your bodies press so close they’re nearly one. You want to kiss her, going as far as to lift her chin and press your forehead against hers before remembering that this moment is only fleeting.

She isn’t yours. Not anymore. So instead you revel in the feeling of her bated breaths puffing over your lips before stepping away from the temptation. The short distance of separation has her smile waning but someone stumbles into you before you can find the words of an explanation, arm hooked over yours as the new partner urges you to join her. So you let her, leaving Neytiri to work through the confusion as a frown weighs on her lips. She lingers where you’d been for only a moment before stalking off to join Tsu’tey and Jake’s group, kneeling beside them to urge Jake to dance once more. 

This time he sets his cup aside, laughing as he stands to join her. You try to put them from your mind, to focus on the people around you. A few you recognize as Tsu’tey’s students that are also being honored by tonight’s festivities. It is easy to lose yourself in the familiarity of the dance. Far less intimate than the one you shared with Neytiri as all of you move in a circle, feet stomping and hands clapping as the music swells. With the shift of a new melody, though the song is far from over, the steps change and you drift away from the group to join Tsu’tey where he now sits alone. 

Despite the festivities, he no longer seems to be in the mood for merriment as a scowl mars his face, mouth drawn low as he watches Neytiri teach Jake to dance. Once again, it is not Tsu’tey with which your upset lies as the both of you sit scorned by the tsakarem dancing with the uniltìrantokx. 

“I thought this rift had been mended.” Tsu’tey says after a few moments of discontented silence shared between you. At least the two of you knew where you stood with Neytiri. Tsu’tey was a friend, an ally, a man she would honor as her mate, where you were her true love that she had to give up to fulfill the expectations of her parents. It is tradition for the tsahìk to be mated to the olo’eyktan though there are some clans where it is not always so. But the Omatikaya have always been more spiritual, traditional in the ways that have been practiced since the time of the First Songs. To make exceptions for Neytiri’s feelings would be to go against tradition and it was decided that mating her to Tsu’tey would be best. Now here the two of you are, scorned and alone together. 

“I know I am not the one in her heart,” he speaks gruffly, “but now it seems she has no taste for you either. Only this skxawng.” His words sting but there is truth to them. Even after spending an afternoon basking in her presence as you had before his arrival, Jake has come to steal her away from you once more. Simply by being. It isn’t fair to the years you’ve spent loving her, and her loving you, but you don’t say it out loud. The words are far too petulant and like grinding dirt into the wound Tsu’tey must tend to for the rest of his days knowing his mate does not love him wholly and truly. 

“His eyes are small.” Tsu’tey says after a beat of silence. It’s enough to make you laugh at the annoyance in his tone. His drinking must’ve loosened his tongue or else you’d never hear him say such things as if he were sulking rather than angry. 

“This isn’t funny. He will want to choose a mate sooner or later and what will we do when he chooses her when she is not free to be with him?” That quiets your giggling. Not once had you thought of what might happen if Jake wanted to pursue their budding relationship further. Already the separation between friend and lover has begun to blur like looking through a cloud of smoke. It is not in your heart to doubt Neytiri but people have been known to act out of character in the pursuit of love. What can be done if she is willing to betray her promise to Tsu’tey to be with Jake? And why hadn’t she been willing to do such things for you? It’s a selfish thought, especially with Tsu’tey close beside you. You banish it before your heart can be darkened any further by it. 

“I will talk to her.” She wanted to be away from the clan with just the three of you tonight. No better time would come for you to raise such concerns with the way they’re looking at each other. It’s the same way you look at her, without the lingering regret of knowing you will never truly have her. Jake must know she isn’t his to keep yet he wants her even still. People continue to move around them while they stay still as stone, staring into each other’s eyes. It turns your stomach as if you’ve eaten something rotten. 

“For the sake of the future.” Tsu’tey agrees. She will one day be tsahìk after her mother, that much is decided simply by birth. With Sylwanin gone the honor has fallen to her. An olo’eyktan is chosen, not born. If Jake can prove his worth as a warrior there might be no reason to object to his mating with Neytiri. Tsu’tey will simply be passed over as the future clan leader in favor of naming Jake as the next olo’eyktan. The thought seems inconceivable. Tsu’tey is the strongest the clan has to offer. Jake has only just been made one of the People, what can he offer that Tsu’tey does not already have in abundance? 

The night is deep and the crowds thinned as people begin to trail off to sleep or to enjoy the night somewhere more secluded. The only music left is the din of voices murmuring over the crackling of the fire pits as Neytiri comes to coax you from your seat. Tsu’tey already left, too upset to be faced with the sight of his promised mate dancing so closely to another. With you, there was a tenuous agreement, an acknowledgment of your role as a placeholder. Jake has no such allegiances. You’re not sure why you stayed, punishing yourself with the sight of them together. 

“Come, it is time!” Neytiri is smiling as if nothing is wrong. Jake seems not to know where she’s leading the two of you but he follows her tail as if it’s dipped in nectar. He smiles and you wish you didn’t see how Neytiri could fall for him. He’s handsome in a strange sort of way, so alike and yet so different to the faces you see everyday. Aside from his eyebrows, his eyes are small like Tsu’tey said, more human. And the way he carries himself, the way he speaks, is decidedly human as well. He’s as playful as a child despite his age and it serves as both an endearing and infuriating trait. And it was only made worse when he was still learning. Truly like a baby stumbling through the forest, curious about everything around him. 

He still seems intrigued as you walk beside a river glowing like a sinuous blue thread into the distance ahead. You’ve waded your way past the banks into the warm rush of water. The current is slow, knocking lightly at your knees with hardly enough strength to lead even the fish upstream. Your eyes are low, focused on the finned animals swimming past your ankles. So focused that you don’t notice Jake drawing closer until his hands are on your shoulder with a sudden wave of strength. You lose your footing, toppling into the water and surfacing with a disgruntled hiss, ears drawn back as you bare your teeth in annoyance. The night air is warm, a balmy breeze brushing over your damp skin as water drips from your soaked form. Jake only laughs at your sour face before coming into the water after you. 

Instinctually, your arms shoot out in front of you to keep him at bay but he just uses the opportunity to wrap his hands around yours, pulling you in close until you’re chest to chest. Your brows raise at the sudden closeness. In the time since your first meeting you’ve come to consider Jake a friend, perhaps closer even than the friends you’ve made in childhood. He’s been with you every day for so long that you almost can’t imagine a day passing without seeing him, but this is something beyond what you expected of your relationship. Of course, he’d act this way with Neytiri as she curls her tail at him, sharing coquettish smiles and lingering glances, but you’ve never shared in such flirtations. But it is plain to see how you react when it is Neytiri clinging close to you. And with every day spent so closely together, just the three of you, it isn’t hard to imagine how such boundaries might be lost with time. 

Still, it’s dizzying how at ease he seems pulling you closer to him. Your eyes search for Neytiri with a frantic sort of helplessness only to find she’s smiling sweetly at the two of you, seemingly happy with how close you are.

“You didn’t offer me a dance tonight, ma’am.” He says, using the human word of respect for a woman. He said it was a remnant of his training when he was a warrior on his home planet. A Marine. Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. Something he says now to tease women when they take a tone of authority with him. Childish as he always is. You’ve heard him say it to Grace a few times and it’s always accompanied with a subtle roll of his eyes. Tonight, he seems less flippant about the word. More teasing than sarcastic as he raises your joined hands over your head, twirling you in a splashing circle. 

“She doesn’t like sharing such dances with others. She will only dance so closely with me.” Neytiri is rather forthright about how close the two of you are. It isn’t something you’ve kept particularly hidden, yet it still seems strange that she’d say such things out loud after so long spent burying your heart in the hopes that her match to Tsu’tey will go smoothly. 

“She’ll dance with me.” Jake laughs, “Won’t you?” One of his hands falls to your hip while the other keeps yours in his grasp, held up and away from your bodies like he’s guiding you to shoot an arrow. He hums an unfamiliar tune as he leads you in clumsy circles through the water. It’s clear he’s never been much of a dancer and he’s probably missing steps to the human dance but you let him bob and sway you because asking to be let go would likely spoil the mood, and you want both of them in high spirits if you’re going to broach the topic of a bit of distance between the three of you. It’s only fair that you try to estrange yourself if you’re going to ask that Neytiri and Jake be a bit more conscious of their time together. To tell Jake to take a step back while still clinging close to Neytiri would be too cruel. Especially when you are in no place to be with her either. Even if it breaks your heart anew to truly let her go. 

Neytiri laughs as Jake folds you backwards, balancing your weight on the hand he’s placed against your back. You hiss and cling to him, worried that this is another one of his games and you’ll be dropped back into the water. Instead he pulls you back towards his chest, both of them laughing at the scorned look you can feel pinching your face. 

“You’re not funny, tawtute.” You scowl. 

“I think I am.” He smiles wide, fangs flashing in the blue light. It’s all too familiar, too close. Neytiri joins the two of you in the water, hand brushing against your arm as she suggests a swim. 

It’s easy to agree because it sets a bit of distance between the three of you. The sounds of the forest, the chittering and buzzing, quiets beneath the water enough for you to think. Jake must know how you feel about Neytiri. It would only take a glance to see how your heart yearns for her. So why had he touched you the way he had? Held you like you were the most delicate thing his hands have ever touched? It feels like you’ve tangled yourself into a knot. Too many threads have converged around you and it isn’t worth the effort to meticulously unwind them. Instead you want to sever each one in turn before they tighten beyond the point of escape. Neytiri is one thread and Jake another, then a dozen more all tied up tight. 

The urge to turn away from it all becomes strong as you emerge from the river and Jake’s hand finds yours once more. It seems almost instinctual. He’s swinging your joined hands and laughing when Neytiri giggles at him for grabbing at her tail. He’s always been playful but you can’t help but wonder if the ceremony confirming him as a member of the clan has lowered some barrier he’d previously set between the three of you. He’s far more open with his touching tonight, more affectionate than you’ve ever seen him as the green syuratan is swallowed by the pale purple glow of the Tree of Voices. 

A swarm of kenten bursts to life as you pass and Jake stops to watch them twirl away, still so enamored with life on Pandora. Neytiri stares for a moment, an enamored look glowing on her face before she reaches to take his free hand. 

The long branches of the trees sway in the warm breeze, light burning brighter at the gentlest touch. Jake releases your hand to brush his arms through the hanging fronds. Without his hand in yours, you’re free to walk further ahead. It had been Neytiri’s plan to bring him here and you aren’t sure you want to bear witness to whatever it is she’s planning. Though you did promise Tsu’tey to at least try to dissuade them from doing something they might regret. Your feet only carry you a few steps away before your resolve strengthens once more. Instead of walking away with your tail between your legs, you turn to face the issue at hand. 

Neytiri is explaining the significance of the trees. A place for prayers to be heard, a place to convene with those that have come before you. It is what you need in this time of confusion and you gather a few branches to connect your tswin. In an instant your mind is filled with a cacophony of voices. Singing and shouting, laughing and shrieking with happiness. Every life that led to yours is held within these trees and their voices offer a comfort like no other. The weight on your soul is lightened as you listen to the happiness babbling through tsaheylu. Old and young, man and woman. Your ancestors sing to you, laugh with you. Their lives are enduring within Eywa. Like salve over a burn, you feel your unsteady heart soothing. The anguish of knowing tonight will change the rest of your life is quieted. When you pull your tswin away from the tree, Neytiri is reaffirming Jake’s place within the clan.  

“You may make your bow from the wood of Hometree,” she turns away as if she is nervous to continue, “and you may choose a woman. We have many fine women.” Her eyes cut towards yours before focusing on the atokirina’ crossing her path. The gentle spirit lands in the palm of her hand. Her ears bend and twist, nervously shifting as she seems to choose her next words with great care.

“Ninat is the best singer.” Jake immediately voices his disinterest and a quiet smile lifts Neytiri’s cheeks. She turns towards you and softly blows the woodsprite in your direction. The little seed twirls through the air, brushing against your cheek like a kiss before drifting away on the breeze. 

“Beyral is a good hunter.” Jake seems to realize what Neytiri is doing, offering her advice on the unmated women of the clan. Pretending to put forth a possible match while still hoping he will decline every option he is given. So instead of denying interest, Jake nods. 

“Yeah, she is a good hunter.” His tone is hollow, but Neytiri turns swiftly, disappointment clear on her face. The small smile she’s been hiding falls to a look of sadness. Seeing her crestfallen face feels as though you’ve stepped into an open flame. It eats away at you. Searing and burning as you watch the woman you love bare her heart to someone else. If Neytiri is upset, you’re livid. Angry and jealous and bitter because Jake has her eyes on him in such a special place, on such a special night. Yet a small, conflicted part of you is glad for the rejection because that is the reason you accompanied them to such a place to begin with. 

This grove of trees is known to be a place of comfort. Many a mating bond has been solidified here, for generations. And you’ve been dragged along to bear witness to the making of another, though it is your hope to dissuade them from their desire to be connected in such a way.  A part of you wants to rage and shout, demanding that Neytiri be with no one if you cannot have her. But seeing the sadness that Jake’s rejection has stirred in her makes your heart cry. She deserves this bit of happiness even if it is not with you. Even if it is not with who she is meant to be with. Jake is quick to correct himself when he sees Neytiri’s suddenly sullen face. 

“I’ve already chosen,” he whispers. It feels like knives in your chest. Something acidic wells in your stomach as your tongue struggles to shape out the words to stop him as Jake’s eyes drift past Neytiri, towards you. 

“But these women must also choose me.” There’s a breathy laugh from Neytiri as she turns towards you, smiling so wide that her eyes are eclipsed. She takes your hands in hers to pull you in close to her side. You try to pull away but she only shifts her grip, keeping you close. 

“We already have.” Her words startle you. We? 

Perhaps she has accepted Jake into her heart as more than a friend but you’ve yet to reach such a point in your affections. And even if you had, it is something forbidden for the three of you to be joined as mates. Neytiri is not free to offer herself to any other. But she looks so happy that you don’t have a moment to speak before Jake is kissing her. Your voice is stuck somewhere in your throat, like you’ve swallowed a rock. It’s hard to make any sound other than short gasps of panic as Jake’s fingertips brush against your cheek, tracing over the pattern of your pil. Feigning at shyness you turn your head away before he can kiss you, too. His lips find your temple, quick breaths rushing over your hairline. 

Neytiri leads despite the nerves still clear on her face, guiding the three of you to kneel together as she takes hold of her tswin. It feels as though your eyes are going to leap out of your head with how wide they’ve gone. Everything is moving too quickly like a rushing river sweeping you up in its current. 

This is the exact opposite of how this night was supposed to end. You were meant to reaffirm some type of separation between the pair not become tangled up between them. You think of the clan. Of expectation and tradition, of responsibility. Neytiri knows of duty and honor. It is what you’ve been taught since birth. Jake may not understand how precious the mating arrangements of a tsahìk and olo’eyktan are. And if he does, it’s clear he does not care. We can’t, you want to say, this is wrong. But it’s hard to see what is so terrible about it when the love of your life is smiling so sweetly and offering to tie her soul to yours. 

Suddenly, Neytiri is in your lap again, forehead pressed to yours as she holds her tswin between your bodies, her other hand petting over where your braid hangs over your shoulder. She cannot force tsaheylu. You must offer your tswin to her with your own hand and it’s clear she is eager to be joined with such closeness. Her lips find yours. Soft, fluttering kisses that slowly sink into something more desperate. Her hands are on your body, tswin forgotten as she clings to you. There’s a shiver skittering down your back as her fingers raise goosebumps over your skin. 

Between her frantic kisses you find the courage to say, “We can’t.” Neytiri pauses. Her smile wanes for a moment, face flickering like a flame being snuffed. But then she’s flaring to life again, eyes bright with determination. 

“This is what I choose, Great Mother forgive me. Nothing else matters but us here and now.” Her hands hold your face like the most delicate piece of crystal. “It was always going to be you, yawntu. Always.” Those are precious words. Because in your heart, no matter what comes to pass, you know you will always love her. The flame you hold for her has never wavered and it must be just the same for her. Even if there is another sharing the space with you. It’s enough to disarm you, lowering your inhibitions as you pull her into another desperate kiss. There’s a renewed steadiness to your hand as you take hold of your tswin, offering it to Neytiri as you always wish you could’ve. Time was lost adhering to expectation but it’s yours to reclaim as the soft tendrils of your braids twine into one. It’s more blinding than the gentle comfort of the Tree of Voices. Something sharp and overwhelming, nearly beyond comprehension. 

It feels like Neytiri is touching you, holding you. Caressing every part of your skin at once. There’s still space between the two of you, a small distance between your chests and yet you feel her heartbeat as if it’s your own, feel each heaving breath as if it’s being drawn into your lungs. All that she is is suddenly inside you, like a pattern being woven into the very fabric of your soul. Another kiss is pressed against your parted lips. Wet and clumsy as she clings as close as your bodies will allow, until it feels like every piece of skin is brushing against yours. And then there’s a second pair of hands against your waist. Larger than Neytiri’s, different than anyone you’ve ever met. It takes a moment for the haze of euphoria to dissipate just long enough to remember Jake’s presence. He’s pressed in close against Neytiri’s back, chin resting on her shoulder as his arms reach to wrap around both of you. 

It seems like he isn’t sure what is happening, eyes lingering on the place your braids are joined in tsaheylu. When his gaze flickers back to yours there’s something beyond curiosity sparking there. A look you recognize as longing, determination. It’s something you’ve felt, something you’ve seen reflected in Neytiri’s face. So strange that something so familiar suddenly looks so foreign. Just a few hours ago Jake had been nothing more than a friend. He is still little more than that but you can’t find the words to say it–tongue tied with the feeling of your soul melting with Neytiri’s–before he is slipping his hand under Neytiri’s arm to add his own tswin to the knotting of your spirits. 

If the feeling had been sweet as ripe fruit before, it’s turned to something bitter and rotten as the unknown joins the blinding familiarity. If she notices, Neytiri doesn’t react to your sudden anguish. A beautiful moment and Jake has ruined it with his overeagerness. Human as he is, he does not understand what he’s done. You try to find the words, to make your tongue shape out the sounds to tell him that what he’s done cannot be undone, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a toneless gasp. Something choked and rasping. Perhaps you could’ve lived knowing Neytiri had shared this part of herself with the both of you, but there was never any desire in your heart to be with Jake in such an intimate way. And now it is too late to warn him of the consequences. Ruefully, you wonder if this is how tsaheylu feels between arranged mates. If this is what Neytiri and Tsu’tey would’ve suffered had the three of you not snuck away on this night. 

It’s a strange, empty sort of feeling. Like water tainted with sand. Cloudy and coarse. Something you would not wish on anyone. Least of all Neytiri. It feels like floating, but just barely. Hardly drifting on the unsteady waves even as Jake and Neytiri’s happiness bubbles through the bond with startling clarity. At least they are happy. 

It’s always been in your nature to stifle yourself in favor of others. To do as is expected rather than what you truly desire. Though this strange new bond that is slipping into place between the three of you was desperately desired. At least for Jake and Neytiri. It nearly hurts how hard Jake is holding onto you, fingers digging into the small of your back as he crowds the two of you in his arms. There isn’t anywhere you can go but here with the way the three of you are tied together. You’ll remain this way until morning, though you wish you wouldn’t as the euphoria begins to manifest in less innocent ways. Jake bites at Neytiri’s shoulder as she sits herself higher in your lap, hands rising from your waist to slip beneath the beading of your top. The strange clouded feeling lingers, but you find yourself falling back into the elation you felt moments ago, basking in the way your new mate is touching you. 

And perhaps being tied to Jake will not be so terrible. He has proven himself different from the others. A true Na’vi among pretenders. With time, you could learn to care for him in the way he seems to cherish you. The thought feels like taking on the burden of another. This is the life Neytiri was meant to lead. Mate with Tsu’tey and lead as tsahìk when the time came. In saving her from such a bleak future you have banished yourself to something just the same. But some things change with time. Perhaps there will be a day when there is unfettered love shared between the three of you. Because in this moment, a dark hidden corner of your soul lingers on the thought of how Jake has ruined what was meant to be something perfectly beautiful. 

Morning dawns in streaks of white light, chasing away the pale purple glow of the Trees of Voices. The slinking branches hang in swaying strands, stirring the sunlight and shadows in sinuous shapes. Everything is warm and soft. The feeling of limbs tangled over your own as ferns and blades of grass cushion your cheek, cutting into your vision as your eyes squint open in the bright light. With some struggle, you untwine yourself from Neytiri and Jake, slipping from the space between their bodies. Jake remains still, but Neytiri stirs to wakefulness with a flutter of her eyelids. Thick lashes fan shadows over her bright yellow eyes as she gathers her bearings. Slow at first as she smiles up at you, then with a sudden urgency as both of your eyes flicker towards a strange sound, ears bending and twitching as your mind tries to make sense of the disturbance. 

It’s loud and heavy, but lacks the heavy footfalls of a herd of angtsìk moving through the forest. There’s something distinctly destructive about the sound, like the crackling of hundreds of pyres burning at once. The sound of wood popping and snapping like it’s being torn off in bits and pieces. It grows closer until the trees begin to shudder and fall a few paces away. Then you hear it, the tinny whirr you’ve come to associate with calamity, something made by the Sky People. Flashes of sunlight glint off the edge of something big and metal rumbling just beyond the tree line. Another tree falls, filling the air with a cloud of dirt and pollen, and Neytiri rushes to rouse Jake. He still hasn’t moved despite the commotion, body sprawled across the ground as if there isn’t some metal creature chewing through the trees with its mouth full of blades. Neytiri is perched over his chest, shouting and shaking as the world comes down around you. Leaves fall like rain as the shadow of the whirring beast eclipses the sun, far too close for comfort. 

“Grab him!” You shout, already pulling at his arm. He’s heavy as stone as both of you struggle to pull him away from the collapsing trees. Another falls, larger than the rest, landing hard enough to send a buckling shudder through the ground. You fall for a moment, then again when a branch lands on your back. The splintered wood scratches across your skin like raking claws, likely drawing blood as you scamper forward on hands and feet to grab Jake once more. His stillness is like death as the two of you clamor to drag him away from the collapsing trees. But even between the two of you he is heavy, far too heavy to move with any haste. Neytiri gets his head over a fallen tree and you follow with his legs but it isn’t nearly quick enough. The machine is getting closer and Neytiri is growing desperate. Her voice shudders and cracks as she screams over Jake’s unflinching body, wailing for him to wake up. Back still burning from the fallen branch, you cover Neytiri’s body with your own as she shakes Jake’s shoulders. He comes to with an air of confusion, eyes expanding and contracting before he focuses enough to get to his feet. 

Of all the things you expect when he pushes the two of you behind him, talking–shouting–at the metal beast is the farthest from your mind. The yellow behemoth has no rider, no obvious reins controlling its movement. It only seems to know forward, but Jake’s yelling seems to slow it to a halt. Though the stillness only lasts a moment before it’s moving again, grinding forward as if it never stopped to begin with. 

“Go!” Jake shouts, shoving Neytiri forward. His hand lands against the scratches torn in your back, stinging as he pushes you after her. He doesn’t follow. Instead he runs towards the thing, yet you can’t bring yourself to look back as you run. There’s the sound of crunching metal then the firing of bullets. 

It’s your turn to fall still, stumbling to a halt as fear roots you to where you stand. Your hands feel warm. They feel wet. When you look down at your shaky palms they’re suddenly bright as if they’ve been steeped in warpaint. Bright red and acidic as the scent invades your nose. The forest seems different now. More shadows overhead and wood beneath your feet. The smell of blood grows heavier as your eyes focus past your hands to the body at your feet. 

Sylwanin is coughing, chest twitching and heaving as she tries to keep the breath in her torn lungs. Your cheek is wet, a spray of her blood speckled over your skin. She tried to say your name before she fell. Hands reaching towards yours, smearing blood over your fingers. Her eyes are dotted with spots of red, and there’s blood leaking from between her lips. She’s trying to talk, trying to say something between the stuttering heaves, but someone is pulling you away from her. 

It takes a few stumbling steps before you realize you’re not in the schoolhouse, not watching your friend die. Instead you’re watching the Trees of Voices be decimated by the rumbling metal beasts still tearing through the carnage they’ve cleared behind them. The trees are gone, leaving only splinters and churned dirt behind as the machines beep and whirr their way through whatever lies before them. 

Distantly, you hear Neytiri crying, though you feel numb even as you see smoke beginning to billow up from the fires the human warriors have set. Trees that have stood for a small eternity, gone in a moment. It doesn’t sadden you so much as it makes you angry. A seething type of anger that carves you out inside, leaves you hollow and numb. There should be tears. You should be in anguish. Yet it feels as though your heart hasn’t quite caught up to what your eyes have witnessed. It’s the same sort of angry nothingness you felt as Sylwanin laid dying at your feet. 

The sound of bullets brought you back to that moment. No longer are you a woman grown, but a child with no knowledge of what to do with the destruction set before you. And now there are no ancestors to ask now, no voices to share your thoughts with. The Trees of Voices are gone. Silently, you stand and begin walking home. There’s nothing left for you here. You shouldn’t have come in the first place. One mistake strung after another in a necklace laced too tightly around your throat. It’s hard to breathe, hard to see as the tears well up at last, but you keep walking. 

Hometree is filled with a cacophony of voices, but you ignore them all. You’re tired despite the sun having just risen. Curious hands brush against you as you float past, numb to the soles of your feet as touches graze the scratches on your back. It’s all dull pressure. No pain. No real feeling. Even the shrieking war cries sound distant as you trail between the warriors with their weapons raised and fangs bared. Despite your best efforts, you’re swept up into the maelstrom, jostled and pushed until you’re stumbling blindly to the front of the crowd. 

Tsu’tey stands at the heart of the press of people, bow raised above his head. His eyes find yours, recognition sparking as he takes in your discheviled state. He says something, extends a hand, but you hardly realize he’s speaking to you until he’s pulling you out of the throng of incited Na’vi. At last, words begin to make sense again as he whispers privately, “Are you alright?” Vaguely, you gesture towards your back and he passes you over to Mo’at. The tsahìk’s face is lined with tension as she brushes the mess of leaves and splinters from your hair and turns you around to look over the wounds on your back. It faces you towards the crowd as Jake and Neytiri emerge. When had they fallen so far behind you?

With heavy strides, Tsu’tey brushes past you, handing you his bow. A clear sign that you’re meant to stay out of whatever he’s about to do. You hide your face in the adornments of his weapon, ears flattened in shame. He is treating you with kindness you do not deserve. You’ve betrayed him. His trust, his friendship. For your own selfish desires. Perhaps this is what is owed for thinking yourself higher than tradition. For going against the word of your tsahìk, of the Great Mother herself who chose Neytiri’s family as her voice among the People. Mo’at’s matronly hands dab against the burning lines cut through your skin with something cold and soothing. It’s more care than you deserve. 

Neytiri is shouting, doing little to quell any notion that your plan to squash this issue has failed. If anything, the problem has only worsened since your promise to urge the two to part. Tsu’tey seems to glean it all from only a moment of looking between Jake and his promised mate, held back by Neytiri pressing against his chest. 

“You mated with this woman?” Tsu’tey’s tone is accusatory, hardly a question at all. Against your back, Mo’at’s hand’s still. She soothes a hand over your hunched shoulder as she steps around you to approach her daughter. Each step she takes is slow, menacing as a hunting nantang. When the tsahìk speaks, her voice is filled with thunder. 

“Is this true?” Between the words there’s a baring of teeth that makes Neytiri wither before her mother. She glances at you before gathering the courage to square her shoulders and declare herself mated before Eywa. It is like a spark bursting over dried leaves. A fight flaring in the blink of an eye. It’s expected. Months of simmering animosity finally bubbles over as Tsu’tey draws his blade at Jake. In the end he’s bested with a swiftness, blood leaking from his nose as Jake reminds him that he is Omatikaya now. It grants him the right to speak even if Tsu’tey will not hear him. 

“These words are like stones in my heart,” he says, and you wish your ears would close to the world once more as Tsu’tey saunters in beside you. There’s a heat radiating from him, like his very soul is burning with his rage. So much he’s lost in a single morning. His mate, his ancestors. Hesitantly, you reach to touch his wrist, as if to hold him at bay. He stiffens under your hand but does not move as Jake stumbles through what he is trying to say.

Then Grace falls. Her body goes still, eyes rolling back as all of her muscles seem to come loose. Jake startles as he tries to rush to make his point. 

“I was sent here to–” He collapses. That death-like stillness from this morning taking over once more. Your grip on Tsu’tey’s arm is broken as he rushes forward to put his blade to Jake’s throat. It should worry you, should enrage you. Because that is how mates are meant to act when one is put in danger. Defend, protect. You remain still. In your stead, Neytiri rushes forward to toss Tsu’tey away. She draws her knife in turn, hissing over Jake as if daring Tsu’tey to come any closer. Her lithe body is poised with menacing intent, ears drawn back and fangs on full display. It’s enough to send Tsu’tey away and you follow after him. 

“You were meant to fix this.” He hisses, snatching his bow away from you. 

“I did what I could but the stone was already cast. A dead tree will no longer bear fruit.” Which is to say a stubborn heart will never be swayed from its desire. It’s doubtless that Jake knew of Neytiri’s arrangement with Tsu’tey. There were days spent training when it was only the two of you. Neytiri and Tsu’tey sequestered away with Eytukan and Mo’at to learn the ways of leading the clan. It’s been mentioned in passing as Jake learned to speak your language, learning what the words tsahìk and tsakarem truly mean. He knew and yet he did not care. Nor did Neytiri. The Na’vi-born woman whose future is ruled by tradition. And perhaps even you did not care enough. Your protests had been meager, not even enough to sway your own mind. Still, you love Neytiri and that is the truth of it. To betray her love would be to betray yourself. Even if it’s what was expected of you. And if Tsu’tey suspects your involvement in this newly made bond, neither of you mention it. 

There will be time for these petty squabbles later. For now, all minds are focused on retaliation, on war and revenge for what the Sky People have taken. Sacred lands desecrated in pursuit of their greed. Presently, it is the only thing that matters. 

[sunshine-theseus]

White Noise | Alessia Russo x trans-masc. OC

Word Count: 1.6k Summary: Being trans masc. can be hard but Alessia will always be there for you – also the request did say trans masc., not trans man, so I hope this is what you wanted! I’m so sorry if it isn’t😭 I can adjust it to be. Warnings: dead naming and use of wrong pronouns, not really a warning but just stating that Calum uses they/he pronouns Request for - @sky-the-trans-guy00 - i really hope this is good!

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?” Alessia’s arms wrap around my waist as I brush out my hair.

“It’s just a haircut Lessi, I’ll be okay.” I turn around and look her in the eyes.

“But last time they were pieces of shit and ruined it. You ended up buzzing it and I’m sorry to break it to you, but you do not have the head shape to be bald” I give her a faux offended look but laugh.

“This place is run by a non-binary person. And most if not all their employees are trans or queer. Plus, you have training.” She groans and her head falls into my chest.

“Fine. But call me if you need anything.” I lean down to kiss her lips before ushering her out, so she isn’t late, again.

~~~~~

The haircut goes well, something only few people understand is so important to me, and I decide to visit Alessia at training. She’s been begging me to come with her for months, but I’ve been too nervous about how her teammates will be view me to ever go through with it.

I sign in with the lady in reception, who calls Lessi to take me to the locker room before they head to the gym. I rub my sweaty hands against my jeans, but Alessia slips her smaller one into my own, rubbing her thumb back and forth against the back of my hand.

“Your hair looks good.” Her blue eyes shine as she smiles up at me, reaching with her other hand to run it through the newly cut locks.

“You think? It’s not too feminine?”

“Not at all! I can’t believe you went with blue instead of red though, they’re all going to think you’re a Chelsea fan.” Alessia stands on her tippy toes to kiss me before opening a door, letting shouts and… questionable singing, ring throughout the halls.

She grabs my hand again and pulls me into the busy room. Everyone stops talking as the door slams closed again and all eyes fall onto us. I cower slightly next to Alessia, but she wraps her arm around me and says

“Girls! This is my partner I’ve been telling you about! Calum, these are the girls.”

“Yo, your hair looks fucking awesome dude!” an Irish accent is the first to break the silence between the 20+ bodies.

“I told them to go red, but they insisted blue was cooler.”

“You’re not a Chelsea fan are ya? Cause then we’ll have problems.” Lotte, the one person I did know, jokingly asks me.

“I promise it’s just my favourite colour. I’m a Gooner through and through.” A group of laughs echoes throughout the room and I chuckle with them.

“Are you joining us for gym?” Less pokes me in the side.

“No, I just wanted to come say hi. Show off my super awesome new hair.” I kiss her goodbye and am halfway out the door before another voice calls out.

“Wait! We’re having a team + partner dinner tomorrow after training. You down?” I look at Alessia then back at the room of her teammates.

“Uhh sure! Yeah I’ll be there.”

~~~~~

“What’s the dress code for this dinner?” I ask Alessia as we lay curled up in bed, neither wanting to make the move to get up as the sun slowly brightens in the sky.

“Semi-formal. You can wear that cute button up with the flower pattern I got you! It matches the dress I’m going to wear.”

“Sounds perfect.” I kiss her on the nose before groaning as I roll out from under the covers and get up.

I make us both breakfast before she leaves for training, and I take some time to myself before having a zoom meeting with my team to discuss our project.

And then I get a call from someone I hadn’t planned on hearing from ever again. I hadn’t seen or heard from my older sister in 4 years. I tended to avoid any family gatherings if I knew she’d be there and had removed her from all social media and my contacts, a call is the pinnacle of unexpected. So I leave it to ring, face down on my desk, as I look through the closet for an outfit for tonight’s dinner.

An hour or so later, Alessia rushes through the door, kicking off her shoes and dropping her bag at the door. She barrels into our room and beelines to the closet.

“Whoa what’s got you in a rush? We don’t have to leave for another 2 hours.”

“No no, I texted you. We had to move it up an hour. You didn’t see it?”

“I haven’t looked at my phone in like 3 hours I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, but you gotta get changed. Like now.”

We both rush to get into our outfits and get out the door in time, Lessi giving up on putting on her heels as we walk to the car, opting instead to put them on when we arrive.

“I’m so excited to meet the girl’s partners and show you off. Lia’s bringing her new girlfriend she won’t stop talking about.” I just smile, taking her hand in my spare one, the other clinging to the wheel as we wait at a light.

“You look so handsome too. I told you this shirt was the go-to.”

“You look beautiful.” I park the car and race around to help her out.

We make our way into the restaurant, spotting the group from the door. We’re almost at the table when I stop abruptly in my tracks, jerking Alessia back with me. Why the fuck is she here?

“Cal? What’s wrong?” my mouth gaps open and closed but I don’t get the chance to come up with a reply.

“Bella! Oh my god what are you doing here?” I feel the colour drain from my face as my older sister pulls me into hug.

I’m frozen in place as she pulls back, a wicked smile gracing her face, and I can see everyone’s confused faces out of the corners of my eyes. There is a deadly silence that falls across the group/ My throat dries up as I try to reach for Alessia’s hand again.

“Bella? I thought his name was Calum?” Caitlin’s the first to speak up.

“Oh no her name is Bella. Calum is just a weird person she plays for attention.” That’s my breaking point.

“Oh, fuck off Tahlia! You’d think four years would be enough time for you to grow up. You’re still the piece of shit you always have been.” I hear some gasps, but no one makes a move to stop me.

“I’ve always been Calum; I’ve just had to pretend not to be because of miserable fucks like you who can’t fathom people being who they truly are. Just because your life isn’t working out doesn’t mean you get to ruin mine again.” A tear pricks at the corner of my eye.

“Non-binary isn’t even a fucking thing! And they/them is fucking stupid you’re not multiple people.”

“It’s good to know you wouldn’t be able to pass a first grade English test. You never were that smart.” Tahlia’s fist comes swinging but a hand that most certainly isn’t my own stops it right before it hits me.

“You need to leave, and never come back. Never talk to Calum or any of us ever again.” Katie shoves Tahlia towards the door and she stomps her foot, looking at Lia expectantly.

“You’re just going to let them talk to me like that!?”

“Uhh, yeah. I think I will.” She stomps her foot again before turning and running out.

I let out a sigh and my shoulders sag in relief. Alessia pulls me to sit down at the table between her and Katie’s girlfriend.

“Are you ok?” I nod, leaning my head on top of her own as the others take their seats again.

“That was fucking wild.”

“I’m so sorry Calum. I had no clue she was your sister, or that she was insane.” Lia gives me an apologetic look, but I smile reassuringly at her.

“It’s not your fault, she’s a good manipulator, always has been. She’ll tell you what you want to hear to get close then show her true colours.”

“Hey, you don’t have to answer this but how do you identify? Because I’ve been calling you dude a lot.” I chuckle at Manu before answering.

“I’m non-binary trans masc., they/he pronouns. I don’t mind being called dude of whatever, just absolutely no feminine terms please.” Everyone nods in agreement, and it doesn’t take long for conversation to continue on between everyone.

I’m talking to Katie’s girlfriend, the owner of a small book café, when Alessia tugs on my sleeve. I excuse myself before turning to her, the overhead lights reflecting in her stormy blue eyes and making her freckles prominent.

“I’m so proud of you.” I kiss her softly.

“I love you.”

“Hey hey! No smooching at the dinner table please.” Everyone laughs and I flush red.

~~~~~

A week later I find myself in the Coloney changing room again, surrounded by sweaty bodies preparing for gym once again.

Instead of leaving as they slowly trickle out, I follow behind Alessia. It takes five minutes for me to start being teased by Katie for blushing as I watch Lessi work out, her biceps very prominent as she lifts the weights.

It takes me another five minutes to swiftly walk over to Alessia after she finally drops the weights, and kiss her passionately, before swiftly exiting, blush burning my cheeks. It may take a completely new hair colour to persuade me to make an appearance at training again.

[eitaababe]

EVEN IF IT'S A LIE !

chapter nine. ditched.

a/n — pushing the kiri and rotxo agenda sorry not sorry

series masterlist. | previous / next

written portion below. —

"something tells me you got ditched from your own plans?"

you look up from your phone, face lighting up the moment you see ao'nung. you're not sure why you're so excited to see him— considering you just saw him the day before, but you run up and hug him, his arms pulling you in tight.

"what did that idiot do?" his tone is teasing, but you're almost sure there's a hint of annoyance in there as well. you let yourself believe the cause is you being left alone.

"just got excited to be with his crush, is all," you chuckle, motioning over to the two talking animatedly in a booth. "they didn't really ditch me, i kind of told them to go over and talk, and that i had some work to do on my own."

"playing matchmaker, i see," he nods, grip loosening but yet to let you go. "okay cupid, looks like you're stuck with me." ao'nung grins, and your heart melts at the sight.

"how'd i get so unlucky?" the witty replies are all you have left to try and prove you aren't as smitten as you seem, but he knows better.

"you're actually pretty lucky, thank you very much," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. he then holds his arm out, waiting for you to take it. "c'mon, i know a place."

"beginning to sound like an axe murderer." you joke, but take his arm anyways, coffee in the other hand, following him.

"i mean, i do know where you live." he plays along.

"quite the charmer, you are," you laugh, thanking him as he opens his car door for you. "but really, where are you taking me?"

"into town. a little birdy told me you liked shopping." ao'nung finally shares, casting a sweet smile your way.

and as he drives you two there he can feel his defenses starting to slip, and realizing just how often he's starting to smile around you, or how fond he's been of your company lately.

he has to convince himself it's all just apart of the act.

FUN FACTS !

— ao'nung wouldn't let y/n buy a single thing with her own money

— right after y/n held the flowers she sneezed like crazy so ao'nung (discreetly) bought some allergy medicine for her

— ao'nung friends just so happened to be out into town and saw y/n and ao'nung

[🏷️ ; taglist. / open ] @loaksbitch @8resa @n7ytiri @yukichan67 @dearstell @netemoon @halibanana @aonungmyaddiction @teyums @lightskinloak @ipoopedmypants47 @aonungmybf @wenvierismycomfort @il0veheartz @syulangg @chittakii @jjkclub @universal-s1ut @netey6m @ilovejakesullysdick @calums-betch @izuoyarmin @yeosxxx @cl0esblogg @alwayswndr

[writtenbygracewilliams]

Ranking my fics from this year

This is for funsies and also my own rankings of my own fics. If you have a fave, I would love to hear what and why. Also thank you so so so much.

[This is only new works I’ve posted on ao3 this year, up until The People We’re Made Of which I only posted yesterday. All are complete. No tumblr drabbles are included, nor is my baby Obligated].

15. Last Night

Written in 48 hours of January 2020, I pulled this Calum Hood x Jake Peralta one shot from the vault. It’s not my best writing, but it’s fun. I’m loyal to my unhinged crossovers, but it was the only one I posted this year!

14. Beautiful Night

Also from the deep vault, this was a Mashton one shot written in late 2022. It’s a bit left field, and mashton are easily the least popular 5sos ship, but I do love soft and fluffy so this is that. Soft bois, as the series is titled.

13. you only wanna love me in the dark

This is very emo and angsty mcdanno, which is sometimes what we need, but it makes me sad :( it’s based off the PeachPRC song Secret, that I had on repeat for weeks after it came out and related to a bit too much.

12. Appropriate Workplace Behaviour

Mcdanno I’m sorry for another low ranking, especially because I do really love this one shot. This is where the ranking got harder. It’s silly goofy fun, and one of my go to feel good fics. Chin is an icon, Lou is as sassy as ever, and Joons and Tani are traumatised. Steve and Danny just love each other, that’s not a crime. (It might be.)

11. My Delicate Flower

A sequel to @sissytobitch10seconds fic! As a long time mpreg lover, I was deeply hooked on the idea of Anthony carrying Hyacinth and had soooo much fun expanding on this idea and universe. I have another follow up very slowly moving along in my drafts.

10. Never Been Kissed

The sequel to Strawberry Kisses, this is another silly goofy feel good short story. This is a bit crack, but honestly had such a fun time writing and creating this fic and thus spreading the Nikki Webster agenda. Also, farm life Kanthony???? Yes.

9. Laws of Attraction

This isn’t even my favourite suits fic that I’ve written (though it’s still the only one I’ve posted 😭) but I value not only it being my first suits post, but also the speed at which I wrote and posted it. I overthink things a lot and lock fics in my vault, so writing, editing and posting in under two weeks was liberating for me. It is peak stupid idiots to lovers marvey.

8. Alignment

There is such tight competition in the top ten I love all my darlings, so it’s a shame this is as high as mcdanno got. I actually wrote this mid 2023, a year before I posted it, but it holds a special place in my heart for lots of reasons. It’s the longest fic I’d written and finished in a while, helping get me back into the groove of multi chaps, and it’s also the first thing I’d done using my beloved world building from ease but in a completely new fandom and setting. Soulmates will always be my fave trope.

7. touch me ‘til I find myself

White Collar!!!! Neal Caffrey and David Siegel are in love, it’s true. I had lots of fun exploring their relationship, and how and why David is in many ways the only perfect person for Neal. I want to do it again.

6. Strawberry Kisses

Narrowly missing out a top 5 spot, Strawberry Kisses (and Never Been Kissed) were incredibly self indulgent and supported by the lovely @newtonsheffield. This fic reignited my childhood in a way that made me soft and gooey on the inside. Nikki Webster you will always be famous.

5. Ignorance Is Bliss

Maybe it’s recency bias, because I just reread this a couple days ago, but I truly love this fic. It’s written quite differently to most of my other stuff, which made it fun. One of my favourite things about writing is exploring techniques and styles, and this allowed and captured that. I’m also an ABO lover, and writing Kanthony ABO in a way that felt very authentic to canon was so enjoyable.

4. Bittersweet

The first Bridgerton fic I posted!!! And it’s lesbian!!! And I wrote and posted it within 24 hours!!! Of course it made the top five. I’m an Edwina lesbian truther, so Franwina felt like a natural experiment to do. Had fun, might revisit the ship in a less emo setting.

3. Ja Pense A Toi

TAFFREY. MY BABIES. Truly no one will ever understand what Neal Caffrey and Gordon Taylor mean to me, but I am trying to spread the agenda. I have two more WIP’s for them, but I digress. Writing their adventures in Paris felt very natural, and I like to think that the two versions of Neal I have (him with Siegel or Taylor) are the devil vs the angel in him.

2. The Compensation Explanation

Maybe a left field choice, as the only big bang theory fic I have posted and probably ever will post. It’s the first thing I posted in 2024, which is sentimental in itself, but this one shot is just special. It’s sad, a little angsty and soft around the edges. It’s a story of being comphet from a deeply religious upbringing and mother, even if she always has and always will love you deeply, and about both the mother and son grappling with relationships—her with god and her son, him with his mother and boyfriend. It feels like a hug in fic form, and it’s one of my own things I reread the most.

1. To Commandeer a Husband

It would be unfair to put anything except this baby as number one. It was my longest (completed) fic in years. The first Bridgerton fic I wrote, how I got my first mutual and beta on here (@tofanasmuse thank you ilysm) and fundamental in building so many parts of my community. Even if it was largely built out of my bottom Anthony agenda and powerful women kink; I love these characters, their dynamics and their relationships so much. Also, writing a Whistledown to start every chapter was so much fun. I promise I’m working on a benophie sequel lol.

Thank you to anyone who read anything I wrote this year, let alone this post that is mostly just for fun. I wanna turn this into a game??? Everyone please rate your fics from the year, I’m so curious and I think it’s fun. You can rank them using whatever metrics you want. You can rank WIPs, smaus, tumblr fics, whatever you like!

I’m tagging @newtonsheffield @hydriotaphia @tofanasmuse @harnitbee but please truly anyone can do this I promise the last thing I’m doing is gate keeping. Let’s all celebrate the year we’ve had, and art we’ve created!

–GW xo

[throneofrayllum]

Rayllum Headcannons (season 7 spoilers)

The night of Aaravos' death, neither of them can sleep (I mean, no one can really). To remind each other that they made it out alive, they just hold each other and whisper words of comfort. Just imagine Callum sitting against a tree with Rayla in his lap. Breathing in each others scent as they whisper "I love you's"

Rayla has a recurring nightmare that Callum had actually gone through with the spell and she ended up killing him. She always wakes up screaming, tears running down her face. Callum starts a routine for when Rayla wakes from a night terror; he pulls her back down on the bed wordlessly and tucks her into his side, grabbing her face and making her look at him and take a deep breath before he kisses her forehead and says some variation of "I'm here, I love you" and rubs her back until she falls asleep. Only after Rayla is comfortably asleep does Callum close his eyes again. Rayla's nightmares are really really frequent for about a year. They become less common but she really never stops having them.

Similarly, Callum's nightmares are typically about him being possessed by Aaravos and trapped in his own body, Aaravos using his body to hurt the people he loves. Sometimes, he has nightmares about Aaravos attacking him and when Rayla tries to wake him up, out of instinct he pins her to the bed out of defense. This doesn't happen often but when it does, Callum panics. It scared Rayla a bit the first time it happened because she wasn't expecting it, but she knows Callum would never hurt her. However, the first time it happened Callum lost his shit. He jumped off Rayla and fell to the floor, sobbing and clutching his head. It took Rayla thirty minutes to get him to calm down. The standard nightmares about Aaravos never truly stop, but his episodes end after about three months.

They hop between Evrkynd and the Silvergrove, but they mainly reside in the Silvergrove. When they stay in Evrkynd, they either crash with Soren and Corvus, or Ezran. In the Silvergrove, they have a little apartment. They picked it because A) it had an office space for Callum and B) Rayla was able to do four cartwheels in the living room without bumping into anything which they deemed an important quality.

Calum's always staying up late to study. He forgets to eat sometimes and so Rayla will bring dinner into his office and make him take a five minute break so he can eat. When it gets really late, Rayla will just stand in the doorway asking when he'll be ready for bed.

"Ok, I gave you five more minutes. Again"

"Just one more minute Ray, I swear I'll be ready then."

"Just bring the books to bed."

Rayla's heart melts every time she sees Callum with the village kids. It's her favorite sight to see <3 One time, when Callum got home from babysitting, him and Rayla were cuddling on the couch waiting for dinner to be ready and this conversation ensued;

"I want a baby"

"Uh, like, in a couple years you mean?"

"Can we have one right now???"

"Ray, the war only ended less than a year ago. Also, we aren't even married yet."

"Pft, Marriage doesn't matter. Besides, if we have one right now, they could be the flower boy or girl at our wedding!"

"Love, I think we should wait a little bit. But I promise that I'll give you a baby."

[baatarthefirst]

The Sunfire story arc was a mistake

Janai and Amaya are my favorite characters in the series, so this is probably not something you're expecting me to say, but I think it needs to be said.

The Sunfire story arc had some interesting themes and lessons, but with only Nine episodes per season, there was no way the show could devote the time it needed to flesh all these characters and not rush the plot. That leaves it feeling forced and unsatisfying, and frankly there's really only one thing that we need from the Sunfire Arc to make the story progress; we need Sol Regem to burn down the castle. That's not to say that we shouldn't get to see our Queens. We could get little moments like we did in the first Arc, were it was telling a story but it wasn't really a story arc. We could basically just get highlights of these two.

Season 4

The first time we see them they can be in a sparring match which ends when Karim enters the arena with Pharos and Miyana (Miyana kisses his cheek before bowing and leaving). Janai welcomes him back from his trip, she tells him of her engagement which leads to a flashback of the actual ceremony. When we jump back, it's no secret that Karim does not approve, but he seems to tolerate the news with good grace.

In a later episode, we see them trying to plan their wedding. Karim makes an offhanded comment about Sol Regem not coming to give his blessing to this particular marriage. Janai reminds him that he is not come to bless any marriage since before Aditi. She tells him that the Great Sun King lost his way long before he lost his sight. Karim frowns but drops the issue.

Season 5 We start with the scene of the two trying to pick flowers. This scene can basically follow the show, but Karim and Pharos are there. Karim says neither flower is appropriate because they are both meant to symbolize love between two 'flames' (Sunfire elves) we see Pharos behind the couple nodding at him. Janai and Amaya look frustrated before anyone can say anything Calum and Rayla come in. From there things progress the same (Rayllum explains what's going on, they tried to escape after being forbidden to go, Amaya decides to join them, we see her talk to her fiancee at the sun tree and the library happens the same) But instead of the kidnapping plot, we have Janai have a discussion with Karim. She asked him if he remembers the history lesson on the War of Blood and Ash. He recounts it, and she tells him that all of the blood of that war was on the Royal brothers' hands. They had failed to reach an understanding, and the people they were meant to care for suffered for it. Then she sadly admits that she fears they are going to have the same problem, and that she is not sure if they're people can endure another war right now. Karim assures her that they will not, that he does not agree with this marriage but there is nothing he can do or say to stop it. They shake hands and Janai pulls him into a hug. We see Karim's eyes narrow as they embrace.

Season 6 We see Karim talking with Miyana over a book with Pharos standing behind them, on the page is an image of Sol Regem (burned eyes) surrounded by text. A guard comes in and says the queen would like to see him; He closes the book and leaves. She's having tea with Amaya. He comes up and greets Janai warmly, and after a second greets Amaya civilly. Janai tells him to follow her. She shows him the sun seed, and it goes basically the same as the show.

Before the wedding, Janai's eyes find her brother at the back, leaning on a pillar, but giving her a small smile and nod. During the ceremony we will cut back and forth from the vows to Karim stealing the sun seed. Then cut between the first dance to Karim, Pharos and Miyana riding out of the camp at full gallop.

After the ceremony, people come up to greet them and the Queens notice that Karim is not in the crowd. Janai asked if they've seen him, and at that time a guard rushes up to tell her that Karim has fled the city with Miyana and Pharos. Janai and Amaya run to the sun tree to find it empty.

Karim goes on about finally having the power to heel Sol regem's eyes. We will see them offer to fix Sol Regem's eyes so he can cleanse Xadia. He wants his wings fixed. They watch as Pharos and Sol Regem head for Katolis instead of the camp.

Sol Regem burns Katolis.

Season 7

We see Janai and Amaya on their hotcats with squad behind them chasing down Karim and Miyana. As they are cornered, Karim challenges her to a dual blood and Ash. Janai replies as she did in the show, and turns away as the soldiers come to cuff him. he says 'no king or queen can simply abolish it' and shoots fire at her. A fight starts, the elves back away in a circle, a sagely looking elf puts a hand on Amaya's shoulder and shakes their head, silently telling her not to intervene. Janai and Karim duel. Janai wins, Karim is put in cuffs.

After Astrid comes, Janai has the same plan, and says she hates this, but it's their only hope. Karim does what he does.

The dark army shows up in greater numbers. Amaya and Janai, along with Soren and the gang, have to work together to stop the army from climbing the tower to Callum. Amaya and Janai have to defeat the magma titan.

We still see them at the new city and see Miyana’s kids.

Amaya and Janai are seen at the table while they make plans for Aaravos' return. If anyone pays attention, Amaya can be seen squeezing Janai's hand when Aaravos' name is said.

For a farewell scene, we see Janai hug her nephews softly, followed by Amaya lifting them up and squeezing. They mount up, smile and fly off.

Since they simply do not have the time to flesh out the characters and take time with the plot, short and sweet would be the way to go.

I would miss the fact that other elves weren't happy about the change (it's a nice addition, that happily ever after was going to take some time and effort), but since nothing really came of it, we might as we'll go for a simpler story that takes up less time (time which would probably better spent on the main or villain plot).

[vasattope]

Calum + Rabbits + flowers/plants, requested by @1loulu5