#teja's works

[cowgirliee]

something so americana about little empty towns

[dizzy-pixels]

No MC, they can't.

[sunandsstars]

YAWNETU

CHAPTER 8

Tonowari x Ronal x Na’vi!Reader

Summary: With her arrival in Awa’atlu, reader seeks to find a sanctuary for her family, one that she may find in two particular individuals

Warnings: Implies drowning, mentions death

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: Guess who’s back!! 😝😝also pls pls pls double check if your name is on my taglist! if it’s on there 2x drop me a message and i’ll remove one of them, just clears some space and organises me! And thank you so much for being so patient!

Taglist: @itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen @berrybluez @bajadotcom @alwaysinwritersblock @pandoragalora @perfectprofessorloverapricot @lvrcpid @answer-the-sirens @phantomalex14 @neteyamforlife @bat1212 @sadforeversblog @ducks118 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @1800imgay @soushswag @honeybxes @lola-bunn1 @alldaysdreamers @doggodorime @theesexystallion @scarlettwch @annamarieisbae @wallpaintt @zatarias-pandora @daoyus @ambria @simp-erformarvelwomen @simpliheavenli @tojidilfs @automaticwizardnerd @lexasaurs634 @symptoms-of-moonlight @avtprint

@deviismynamewritingismygame @sunrays404 @tsireyassgurl @xx-kaitlyn-trixx-xx @that-one-daydreamer @yeosxxx @noname2246 @ok-boke @rubyrubyruuu @diosmilkymommers @annaleesworld @jiminsthickthighs @holysaladapricothero @peaches-peach-peach @enochi @thispussyshouldcomew @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @kirisimpster @pompompomegranate @stevebuckysdoll @midhito @any-maybe @nyylovestowrite @omnimaki @blueberryfailureclinic @degenweeb @tejas-kris @sadlyitsme-boo-hoo @agustdeeyaa @kthehoeforfictionalmen @himbo-klown @miraxflor @behindthearcane @yanelis-world @jaxe-27 @noahboahsblog

The next few months became repetitive, lessons on how to be a Metkayina, lessons on how to be a Tsahìk, spending time with Tonowari and Ronal. It was a comfortable routine ___ got herself into, she was happy here in Awa’atlu. Her babies were safe and healthy, she was safe and healthy.

But sometimes she would be reminded of her home back in the forests, her people, her old mates, Spider.

She missed him.

___ continues to weave a new top, made of dried seaweed and shells, she enjoyed these new garments and loved wearing and designing them in her free time. They were much more freer to wear than the leather she was more used to growing up. Her mind drifted to Spider once more, wondering if the toddler was ok and if he was safe with Norm and the other tuwtute. She knew they would take good care of him, but she could not help but think he would be in better care with her. His mother.

Shaking her head she huffed, placing the half finished top onto the floor and turned her head to look out the marui, watching the waves dance in the afternoon sun, eclipse would be upon them soon and she planned to take Sylwaì and Syatxì to see the bioluminescence of the ocean. They were able to swim, being fast learners, and often had swimming lessons with Ao’nung and other Metkayina babies. Their teacher said they fit right in, it made her happy they were accepted as apart of the people despite their obvious differences.

“mmm” a mumble interrupted her train of thoughts, she looked at the source and saw Syatxì crawling his way towards her. “mmma”

“Kaltxì ‘itan” she picked him up and nuzzled her nose to his, smooching his forehead. The twins have grown quite well, now able to move about and starting to sound out words, Ronal said it would be soon they will begin to walk and talk. “Hmmm, your hair needs to be braided again” ___ talked to herself, looking at the slight exposure of her sons queue and turned him around, getting to work.

Her nimble fingers skilfully crossed over sections of hair at the crown of his head, creating a pattern that her mother taught her in a time long passed. Tying off the end of the braid the mother looked to the setting sun, purples and oranges erupting in the sky, it was almost time to take them outside.

___ stood from her seated position, picking up her son and balancing him on her hip, head swivelling to her rolled out sleeping mat and seeing Sylwaì sat up and waving around a carved out toy of an ikran. His mother smiled and walked towards him, “come on baby” she squatted and scooped him up, settling him on her other hip.

Even when the Pandoran skies darken and eclipse has taken place, the village of Awa’atlu is still active with its people. She smiled and greeted some weavers who walked by her on the elevated platform, she assumed they are going towards the forest to look for more materials. “Have you seen Ronal?” she asked them before they left her sights, the Tsahìk agreed to join her on her expedition with her own son, seeing that this bonding activity will prove beneficial for all.

“She is on the beach the last we saw” one of the men shrugged and pointed in the direction of the east end of the shoreline, waving as ___ thanked him and strolled towards the direction she was pointed to.

But as she arrived on the beach, there was no Tsahìk, or anyone for that matter. The beach was deserted save for a few Na’vi children running around by the mangrove roots. ___ chirped in confusion, yellow eyes darting left and right as she walked closer to the waters edge. “Ronal?” she called out, her sons humming and bouncing with contained excitement.

“I am here” a head poked out of the deeper ends of the water, a grin slowly forming its way onto the Metkayinan’s face. She brought up Ao’nung who squealed when he was swung in the air, laughing at the exhilaration he feels. “We arrived early and my son was impatient, I apologise flower”

Flower.

It was a nickname that Tonowari originally came up with, comparing her to one of the fauna he spotted while deep diving outside the reef. When he brought it back and showed it to his mate and friend, the Tsahìk instantly adapted to call ___ it, why would she not? When the petals were the most prettiest shade of dark blue and the middle was a gorgeous colour of amber, like her eyes. Oh Eywa.

The former Omaticayan flushed slightly but shook it out of her mind. ‘She is just being nice’ she told herself. If only she knew.

___ slowly waded herself through the water, feeling soft wet sand underneath her toes. Her ears wriggled at the sound of childish giggles from her two sons, their tails being touched by the slightly warmed sea. Soon their bodies were enveloped, saved for their heads which ___ kept above water. Even though they may have been good in their lessons, she knew their body is still not well suited for the reefs, more for the forests. So she took great care to watch over them better than the Metkayina children.

“Sa’nu!” Ao’nung cried out, seeing the bluer Na’vi getting closer to them. ___’s heart froze up slightly, eyes going straight to her Tsahìk with pointed down ears. She did not expect for the boy to call her mummy, as she is not the one who mothered him.

Ronal’s tail swished harshly under the water, a bashful look overcoming her face. She knew she was partly at fault, she always brought the boy around the women and her children, never made it clear who ___ was to her. Ao’nung saw a women who was close with his mother and decided that she too would be worthy of the title.

She did not bother correcting him.

“I am sorry-“

“You do not have to be. I saw this coming. Ao’nung does take a large liking to you ___. But I apologise if it makes you uncomfortable” Ronal turned towards the walls of her village in the sea, watching the small fires lit on the outskirts where the canoes continue to row.

“Kehe. It does not make me uncomfortable. I just did not expect it” ___ did not see the grin that formed on the others face.

“Za’u. We will go deeper with ilus” Ronal made a call and a small swarm of creatures swam over to them, clicking and singing in happiness. Ao’nung reached out to tap one on the head with his four fingers, squealing when the tiny ilu nudged his round tummy.

___ let Sylwaì and Syatxì make tsaheylu with the smaller ones, knowing that it is normal to do so gives her comfort. Ilus are like pa’li, but more sociable and safer to bond with.

The boys little fingers grip the tiny reins that connect the animals queues together and slowly swam off to find Ao’nung while their mother established the bond herself on a much larger ilu, following closely behind.

The family dove under the surface, watching as the reef became alive with bright colours. Even though ___ has seen it all before, Pandora never fails to take her breath away. She turned her head to the left to sign to her companion. “Where should we go?”

“I think it is time I show you our spirit tree”

If the Omaticayan was out of the water she would gasp with delight. She has heard from the elders that their spirit tree lies within the cove of ancestors not far from their village, they told her that unlike the giant tree she was used to back in the forest, it is more like a large bundle of sea weed. She was most excited to see it and wanted to venture out herself, but she knew that she needed permission from the Tsahìk or be accompanied by another villager. This may be her home now, but the spiritual tree is something that is most sacred.

Ronal saw the growing excitement on her face and grinned a rare smile.

This will be a night neither one would forget.

The cove of ancestors was better at eclipse, she has been told. But seeing it in person surpassed all expectations. Sylwaì was now huddled in her arms, while her other son and Ao’nung stayed with Ronal, the two small ilus having a chance to take a well deserved break.

“Look down there, flower”

The glow of the spirit tree shone a bright purple and pink hue, its leaves swayed prettily in the deep ends of the waters, curling and twisting to create a giant mass of virtue.

“It is beautiful. Unlike anything I have ever seen”

“Srane…” blue eyes clashed with yellow and the world came to a standstill, if the children were not here, she would surely confess her feelings.

Ao’nung noticed the tree and immediately wriggled in his mothers hold, wanting to go down and see for himself, splashing in the water and swimming to the very top leaf.

Ronal sighed and rolled her eyes slightly at the interruption but smiled a little, diving after him while still holding Syatxì, not waiting for her friend to follow.

After taking a large breath, the two at the surface dove down and followed after the others. Going towards the more shallower tip of the tree to ensure the children would not eventually lose their breath.

“Make the bond” Ronal signed, connecting her hands together and then taking Syatxì’s queue, touching the pink tips of the braid to the tree. “And do not worry, Eywa will give them air”

___ nodded in trust and did the same to Sylwaì and then herself. Feeling a familiar calmness wash over her, watching the colours around fade into a tunnel.

The eye of Eywa.

The lush green grass and tall trees of the forest was not what she expected when she opened her eyes again. But to be honest she did not expect anything.

Laughter filled her pointed ears and she turned around, following the sounds as her feet guided her towards a pretty river with a large waterfall just a few meters up ahead. She recognised the area, it was one from her childhood, an area nearby home tree that her mother and father always took her to.

“My my, you certainly have been busy”

“Sempul!”

___ cried out and crashed into the man who sired her for as long as she lived. She was devastated when her parents went off to fight in the war, both being strong and respected warriors in the clan, but she mourned so much when she found out that they did not live. ___ did not get a chance to see them for a long time since her pregnancy and her arrival in Awa’atlu, not until now.

“Mawey ‘ite. Mawey” Her father pulled back and brushed his daughters loose hair from her face, noting the lack of braids. “Healthy grandchildren. Eywa had blessed us with a wonderful family, one that we hope will grow even larger?”

The young women blinked once. Then twice. Confusion fulling her face. “Sempul…What do you mean. I have not met anyone recently. Not since…”

“Those kalweyaveng. They did not deserve you daughter” ___’s mother approached from the water, holding her grandsons on her hips who played with her beaded hair. “We are glad you have found refuge with the reef Na’vi. They have been kind to you, yes?”

“Srane”

“Of course they have Hìfey, you have seen the way the clan leaders treat her. I would not be surprised if they get together soon. That will happen yes?”

“Father!”

“Kehe. He is right ‘ite. They treat you like a mate, her son calls you mother. Do not give me that look. We see and hear through Eywa” Hìfey rolled her large eyes and smiled softly, watching as silent tears welded in her beautiful child’s eyes. “My heart, there is no need to cry. Tell them how you feel”

___ sniffled and turned back to hug her father once more for comfort. “What if they reject me. Treat me like Jake and Neytiri. What if they cast me out. I cannot let my sons live as an outcast forever sa’nok”

Hìfey shared a look with her husband, one of understanding, a look that needed no words. “Daughter, I refuse to believe that would happen. Have faith my child. Everything will be alright, trust us. Trust Eywa”

And with that, her eyes closed in complete bliss. Heart slowing down as a bright light washed over her vision, she will tell them how she feels.

It is time for a new beginning.

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[mayhemories]

Hi! Can I request a continuation of Teacher's Pet if you're okay doing it? reader takes the kids on a field trip to see whatever animal/cool thing in the rainforest (up to you) Neteyam and a couple warriors volunteer as chaperones to protect you and the kiddos for safety. He volunteered cuz duty but also saw this as a opportunity to get closer to reader 😈 During the field trip he notices one of the warriors try to flirt with Reader. Neteyam is SO jealous about this.

gif: @world-of-pandora

Teacher's Pet Pt. 2

Anon when I saw this request I nearly passed out bc I thought I had accidentally leaked a part of the plot to this chapter. Wtf great minds think alike <3 hope my vision was satisfying for you!! I'm incredibly anxious about this one not being as good as the first one.

Don’t attack me because this part took so long. I was travelling between continents, have two assignments due and writing multiple works at once 🫡 trying my absolute best here. Some of my tags are working and some are broken! I’m so sorry if you asked to be tagged and it did not work for you - it was not on purpose. 

------

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: Swearing. Reader is slightly harassed/made uncomfortable by a male character (Neteyam doesn’t let it last for long). Neteyam is an adult with adult thoughts, Reader is an adult with adult thoughts, albeit a little innocent (just in her nature).

Words: 3.2k

Author’s Notes: Direct continuation of Teacher’s Pet, you can find part one here ← 

Taglist: @lilprettypetite @nyotamalfoy @weasleytwinwheezes @aonungs-tsahik @rainbowsocks @glitterandgoldfinds @bluealiensimp @melsunshine @ussoppl @wondxrgurll @luvlykrispy @myheartfollower @gloryavila @itssiaaax @mashiromochi @punkrockrogers @simpforboys @casiia @neytirqs @oh-austin @eywas-heir

Fic Taglist: @neteyamore @waaakemeeeup @tejas-kris @gardenofvows @nuhteyam @m4nd0l0r @bobojojoba69 @sydhersom @fanboyluvr @humbug5 @viviartsy @izzytheconosieur @dreamybiitch @heaven1oo4 @myheartfollower @agelsully @slythermania @neteyamyam15 @bealone-prm @okaylorrainee @koryianders @uwu-i-purple-you @jackiehollanderr @b-tchymoon @gloryavila @reneyahh

Continue reading under the cut:

It had been a week since dinner with the Sully’s, with your favourite student and her incredibly, incredibly attractive brother. 

Neteyam. 

His name has been running around your mind, stretching and weaving its way around every thought like a songchord every moment since you left his family home. You could not help but feel ashamed at the thoughts your mind had conjured regarding the warrior, regarding his hands and lips and strong arms. A blush broke out across your face, recollecting the private crevasses of your own mind, feeling as though everyone around you could see, could hear, what you dreamed of. 

“y/n!” Neteyam yelled out to you before he could stop himself. He had just come home from rounds, and his visceral yearning for you could not be halted, if he did not see you immediately he probably would’ve ripped the entire village apart until your figure appeared. And how Eywa had blessed him with seeing your face straight away. 

You spun, facing him, looking almost shocked that he had found you in the bustle of the afternoon. And, to his delight, he could’ve sworn that a light smile graced your beautiful face, in addition to a light, fading blush. 

“Neteyam,” Your voice was so beautiful, so, so, so beautiful. Like a song Neteyam never grew sick of. “Can I help you with something?” You asked, gently. Head slightly cocked. Neteyam couldn’t help himself, his body reacting without his brain, his arm reaching for your own, resting it just above your elbow. 

Your entire body felt like it had been set alight. Neteyam’s light grip on your arm made you feel numb, made you feel like you were floating. And how, how, were you supposed to listen, to comprehend anything he said to you? 

“No, no, but I was uh-” Neteyam stuttured, he hated how unsure he was around you, how nervous you made him. “I was wondering if I could help you.” He finished. 

Yes. Yes, he could. He could help you in so many ways that you wished you could voice to him. 

“How so?” You tried to remain professional, remain calm. But Neteyam still hadn’t removed his damn hand and all you could think about was how you wanted his hands. Both of them. Everywhere. 

Neteyam let out a nervous chuckle, his hand retreating from your arm, finding its home at the back of his neck. Something that you had clocked as a nervous tick, though you could never work out why someone like Neteyam, a handsome, strong and mighty warrior was nervous talking to you, a simple teacher. 

“Tuk let it slip that you and the kids plan to visit the syaksyuk tomorrow,” Neteyam felt his cheeks start to burn. He felt like slapping himself in the face, he needed to wake up, needed to collect himself. His father and brother would laugh at him for this interaction, he knew it. “To go that far into the jungle, alone, looking after twenty-something kids is dangerous.” 

You looked down at your feet, and Neteyam felt guilty, felt like he was scolding you. God, he wasn’t much better than his father. 

Your mind was wheeling. You and the kids. You and the kids. You knew, realistically what Neteyam had been referring to. Was it so wrong to wish for him to mean something else by it, though? You and our kids. That was what your heart longed to hear one day. 

“Would you chaperone us, Neteyam?” You asked sweetly. You tried to catch his strong eyeline, and when you did you felt the warm, flowing feeling pool in your chest. Looking at him was like taking your first breath after emerging from a pond, being around him was like feeling warmth after your marrow had been frozen. He made you feel so, so very alive. Alive and incandescent and important. 

Maybe, maybe it was incredibly selfish of you that you used your students as a front, used his sister as an excuse to see him. But you chased that feeling, you sought out his defiblirating presence. 

Neteyam felt like he was flying, felt like he was dying. Like he had flown too close to a tree and his actions had finally caught up to him. And here you were, offering him everything he has ever wanted, so simply, like it was nothing at all. Fuck, he loved you for it. 

You made a reach for him, your own hand mirroring the placement he had on you only moments ago, desperate for that blood-pumping high.

“Only if you’re not busy of course-”

“Of course. It would be my pleasure-”

Neteyam and yourself had spoken at the same time. Two bashful morons who could obviously not contain themselves in eachothers presence. Well, thats what it felt like to Neteyam, anyway. Despite the fact that you were the most intelligent Na’vi he had anything to do with. 

“I can bring a couple of hunters, if you’d like.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why would he do that? Neteyam can’t help run his dumbass mouth, he had secured the situation and fumbled it within seconds. All he wanted was to have more moments with you, alone. Or alone as one can get with a gaggle of children at your feet. 

Not that Neteyam minded seeing a bunch of children at your feet. 

And just like that, that beautiful blooming, romanticism errurpted in your chest, it died. You felt naive, you thought that Neteyam was angling at a moment, somewhat, alone. But him being the perfect, golden man that he was, cared genuinely about your safety. Cared about your class’ safety. Eywa damn it, his sister’s safety. All over again, you felt yourself running amock in your own thoughts. Was it not incredibly kind that he would give up his time to chaperone you and your class? He would only offer if he cared. You did not stop the love that unfurled in your chest. 

“Thank you, Neteyam.” You offered the man a smile, hoping he would sense your genuine excitement. “That’s extremely generous of you, I know how short on free time you are.” 

Neteyam was so, so happy. He felt like crying. He just doesn’t understand how you do it. Neteyam, as if being controlled, like a ghost in his shell, let his hand find yours that laid still on his arm, covering your hand. 

Everything was so effortless with you, so right. He did not just feel acknowledged or witnessed. But perceived, you saw him. Neteyam knew he was projecting. All he did know, though, was that he saw you. All he could wish for was that maybe, Eywa willing, you would see him too. 

Lo’ak was getting increasingly more pissed off. Watching Neteyam pussyfoot around you was painful. At first, it was hilarious. So hilarious that even his Dad got in on it. Jake found himself leaning against a support beam, Lo’ak a hairsbreadth away from him. The two of them watching his eldest son, watching his baby boy absolutely make a fool of himself.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Lo’ak.” Jake laughed lightly, shaking his head. Lo’ak had heard that sentence alot, usually in regard to his behaviour, but this time it was his father laughing at his older brother and Lo’ak was incredibly thankful he wasn’t on the end of it this time. 

“It’s embarassing.” Lo’ak agreed. 

Jake sighed. He didn’t realise how much Neteyam lacked in confidence. In the back of his mind, in the deep, dark part that Jake kept hidden, he couldn’t help to wonder if it was his fault that his eldest struggled to express himself.

“Neteyam!” 

Immediately your hand flew to your side, a blush exploded across your face and ears, you did not know why you were embarrassed that Jake Sully had caught you and Neteyam out- you were doing nothing wrong, anyway. 

But Neteyam’s mirroring blush said otherwise. 

“Time for dinner, boy!” As quick as he announced his presence from a few tents away, Toruk Macto was gone, disappeared into the threshold of his own home. 

“Bring your girlfriend!” Neteyam’s younger brother, Lo’ak called out. Following his father he quickly made himself scarse. You felt Neteyam grow rigid at the younger boy’s teasing words. 

Your blush deepened, and you cursed yourself for turning into a blushing, dumbstruck girl everytime Neteyam was near. 

“I’m uh,” Your heart fluttered everytime the precise, calculated warrior stuttured. “I’m sorry for them, they’re just teasing.” Neteyam looked sincre in his apology, but just as embarrassed as you had been. 

You laughed, shooing him away. His searing presence had become too much. 

“It’s alright, ma Neteyam.” You giggled, you were obviously unaware of what you had just said. Neteyam felt like a hunter going in for the kill with how aware of your words he was. He was enamoured. So fucking in love with you, it was beginning to hurt. “Go, go have a feast with your family.”

You smiled and Neteyam wanted to commit it to memory, etch it into his brain, a permanent reminder of your glowing nature.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Neteyam returned the smile, stalking his way to his family home. 

And maybe it was his broad shoulders, or the way his braids moved as he walked. Maybe it was how confident he made you, or how much you wanted him, you didn’t know. But you could not stop the bold streak that only Neteyam could conjure: 

“Neteyam!” You called out, the boy spun, halfway home, brow cocked. “It would be an honour to be your girlfriend, you know!” Echoing the words that his brother had teased him with, you decided not to stay to give him the satisfaction of the last word, you waved goodbye before ducking into your own tent. 

Neteyam chuckled, like a young boy in trouble. All the way home. 

Later that night, while he was trying to find sleep in his private quarters of his family home. Neteyam tossed and turned in his hammock. His thoughts chasing the ghostly figure of you in his minds eye. As he so often did. But this time, words that he would only imagine you saying were replaced with memory. 

Ma Neteyam. Ma Neteyam. Ma Neteyam. 

God. He wanted nothing more than to be yours. To court you, to mate you, to build a home, create a nest for your eventual tribe of children. 

Normally at this point, Neteyam would start to feel guilty, to hold thoughts of you this way in his heart, and dirtier thoughts of you in his head. But as his hand snaked down between his legs, to his throbbing member, Neteyam dwelled on your parting words to him. 

It would be an honour to be your girlfriend, you know. 

And the guilt did not come for him. 

“Children, before we head out to go see the beautiful syaksyuk, I want you all to say a big thank you.” You gestured to Neteyam, and the two other warriors he had conned into chaperoning you and your class. The four adults and twenty-two Na’vi children stood at the precipice of the wild jungle.

“Thank you Ayo’to,” Your class echoed as you placed your hands on the shoulder of the youngest Na’vi warrior that had joined you today, working your way down the line, behind the young men. “Thank you Marek,” you moved along to the shoulders of the next hunter. You found your hands stalling when you reached Neteyam. You went onto your tippy toes, your eyes just peaking over Neteyam’s broad shoulders, giggles rang out from the kids, as one of your hands found Neteyam’s shoulder, the other one wrapping around his taunt bicep. 

“Thank you Neteyam.” You said, along with your kids, his honey eyes finding your own and you wished you could live in his line of sight forever. 

You pulled away, after leaving your hands a beat too long. You ushered the children to follow you, as your chaperones dispersed themselves around. Smiling to yourself, as you realised that Neteyam bought up the rear, sticking incredibly close to the few children in the back of the group. 

So fatherly, so protective, your heart swelled at the sight. 

“Neteyam is my brother.” You heard Tuk whisper to another boy in the class, who was watching the man in awe. Smiling softly to yourself, you were so thankful that you had the confidence to accept Neteyam’s offer of protection in the first place. 

Neteyam felt the smile plaster itself to his face, as he watched you teach the kids. He felt alive as your tail swished back and forth, happily. As you crouched down to be the same height as your students, to point out flora and fauna, to help them learn and love the gift of nature around them. 

He could not help to think how stunning you looked, out here in the morning light of the jungle. How your big, bright eyes glittered when your students answered something right, or engaged in asking questions. 

But to his dismay, the two young hunters Neteyam had pulled to help out, noticed your beauty too. And this soured his mood, greatly. 

He felt livid as he watched Marek’s trained eyes find their target on your ass. He wanted to punch Ayo’to in his square, stupid face everytime he pulled a large leaf back for you. But, the worst part of it all was that this was Neteyam’s own fucking fault. He offered additional help, he picked these two grunts. 

He was incredibly unhappy with his choices.

As you held a slender finger to your plush lips, signaling for the kids to be quiet as you ushered them into a clearing, Neteyam felt guilty for his sudden shift in mood. You were so stunning, so happy. You did not notice how the other two men treated you. You were so focused on the kids, on their education, on their happiness. 

Neteyam felt a tug on his hand, Tuk had almost ignored him the whole walk, enraptured with everything you had said. 

“What’s wrong Neteyam?” Tuk asked, her voice no louder than a whisper. Neteyam loved his sister, loved her keen eye for her family. He noticed that she shared that keen eye with you, too. Like you were her family, too. 

“Shh, nothing, go sit with the others and listen to (y/n).” Neteyam urged Tuk on. The young girl quickly sat in the grass with the other children, their eyes trained on their teacher, despite their surroundings. 

That was just another thing Neteyam found himself loving about you. Your ability to hold a room, to command attention without explicitly asking for it. He smiled to himself as he thought it was a great trait for a Tsahik.

“Kids we must be quiet, must be still as we wait for the syaksyuk.” You walked from the front of the class, to the back, watching them as every Na’vi child had their eyes glued to the tree canopy, waiting for any sign of the blue and yellow primates. 

“You’re a great teacher.” One of the hunters, Marek, had suddenly appeared next to you, whispering in your right ear. "Maybe you could teach me something, sometime." You blushed at the young man’s comments, but it was not the same blush you held for Neteyam. It was different. You were in discomfort. 

“Thank you,” You willed yourself to remain calm, remain professional, in a hushed voice to not scare away the syaksyuk, or be loud enough for the children to hear. “I appreciate that you’ve given time to assist me and my class today.” You kept your words clipped, hoping that your tone and lack of eye contact would push your feelings clearly.

Though you doubt the boy, the man, Marek, you doubted the fact that he cared much about your feelings. 

“Is anyone courting you, (y/n)?” You felt the hunter’s hot breat fan across your neck, you felt like his prey, trapped against his chest and an invisible wall of professionalism standing behind your class. You knew there was nothing explicit in his question, outright. But it was the lewd undertones that had you nervous.

Where was Neteyam? 

“I do not think that is an appropriate question, Marek.” You wished your words had not fallen out of your mouth, shakily, but they had. They had and now he knew you were nervous. 

Where the fuck was Neteyam? 

Neteyam was seeing red, was fuming. 

Marek had crossed a line getting so close to you, that was a given. But as Neteyam watched the bead of sweat roll down your face, watch as your eyes flicked back and forth in front of you, that was enough. 

Silently, as to not interrupt the children’s viewing of the syaksyuk, Neteyam made his way over. 

He heard Marek ask about courting. 

He heard your curt reply. But between your words he could hear your uneasy nature. He could hear the rising panic. 

“You’re excused, Marek.” Neteyam put his hand out to you, relief flooded him as you quickly pulled yourself against his arm and chest, a beat away from Marek and his looming figure. 

“But-” Neteyam cut the hunter off, sick of seeing his stupid face. 

“I want you gone, now. Be quick and quiet about it.” 

You felt like a fool, holding onto Neteyam’s strong hand for dear life. Marek wouldn’t have done anything to you here, not infront of the kids. But it was the fear of it, creeping around in the back of your mind that upset you, nonetheless. 

“Yes Sir.” 

You watched quietly as Marek fled through the brush of the jungle. Silent like the hunter he was. You watched as he pulled the other young hunter, Ayo’to along with him. 

It was you, and Neteyam, and the kids, of course. 

“Are you alright, ma (y/n)?” Neteyam asked softly, pulling your back to his toned chest, his chin resting on the top of your head, large, muscled arms snaking around your waist to hold you tightly against him. Protecting you from any harm. 

You could not help but to lean into his touch, lean into your love for the man. You knew your brain would pick itself raw over the use of that prefix later, now was for you and him. Now was for your kids and the swinging syaksyuk that had appeared through the canopy. 

You rested your hands on top of his own, “I’m alright now, ma Neteyam.” You whispered as the kids began to ooh and ahh at the syaksyuk. Giggling as the primates chattered through the trees. 

You allowed yourself to laugh with the kids, allowed your mind to wander to the daydreams you have of loving Neteyam. Allowed yourself to conjure and image of your firstborn sitting on his father���s shoulders, enraptured with the world around them. 

You let yourself feed into that dream as you felt Neteyam’s very real lips ghost over your hairline, above your left ear. He left nothing but a thought of a kiss there, and you felt that same blooming in your chest. 

“Have dinner with me tonight.” Neteyam gently whispered once more, this time laying a tangible, corporeal kiss above your ear. 

You could’ve folded, in half, then and there if it wasn’t for Neteyam’s strong hold. 

“Anything you want, Neteyam.” You whispered back to him, cocking your head to look up at him. You noticed the muscle flick in his jaw as he looked ahead, pretending not to see your line of sight. Gently, you placed a small kiss on his jawbone. Featherlight, it could’ve vanished if he wished it to. 

You hoped he did not wish it to. 

[srbachchan]

DAY 5955

Jalsa, Mumbai June 7/8, 2024 Fri/Sat 8:26 AM

🪔 ,

June 08 .. birthday wishes to Ef Tejas Mankodi .. and Ef Rekha .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

... running again to work .. late ..

but the absolute joy of working together with Abhishek .. many more may they follow .. with prayer and hope ..

Love ❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

[eywamygoddesswrites]

— 𝓛𝓤𝓒𝓘𝓓𝓢 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 —

synopsis: dreamscapes are known by the na'vi since the beginning of everything, especially the tsahiks and tsakerams. they come to this plane of existence to learn more about what happens to someone who falls asleep and what happens when another wakes up. do they pause when the na'vi is awake? or do they resume their lives as if it was normal? what happens when that character in your head begins to have their own consciousness?

pairing: avatar by james cameron x fem!platonic!reader

warning: lowercase intended, swearing, mentions of loss and death, fluff, angst, misunderstandings, slow burn (will add more as new chapters are released)

update: irregular

a/n: welcome to my very first fic series! this is based on the series on youtube called LUCIDS made by nicholas podany. you may have heard the tiktok audio 'do you blame yourself?' and the oneshot i made was based on that.

like the rest of my works, characters are aged up! reader is also fem! in this one just like the oneshot because it will be relevant in the whole plot.

a heads up, updates will be slow-ish because i currently have slight health problems but nevertheless, i will still update! hope you enjoy and happy reading!

also, if you want to be a part of this series taglist or want a request outside of this, send it in the ask here! if you liked this series, i would really really appreciate if you guys left your thoughts in the comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. thank you for reading my work and i hope you enjoy~

— ｔｅａｓｅｒ —

— ｐｉｌｏｔ １ —

— ｐｉｌｏｔ ２ —

— ｅｐｉｓｏｄｅ １ —

— ｅｐｉｓｏｄｅ ２ —

— ｅｐｉｓｏｄｅ ３ —

— ｅｐｉｓｏｄｅ ４ —

— ｅｐｉｓｏｄｅ ５ —

— ｅｐｉｓｏｄｅ ６ （ｆｉｎａｌｅ） —

— ｅｎｄ ｃｒｅｄｉｔｓ —

— 𝓛𝓤𝓒𝓘𝓓𝓢 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 —

𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖖𝖚𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘 — one , two , three , four , five

taglist: @nyotamalfoy @hanhanartz @iwaslikeblah @tejas-kris @sophiexoxo-lol @neteyamforlife

want to join the taglist? send an ask here or leave a comment!

[elbiotipo]

Some random cultural quirks of the Campoestela universe:

Because some of the most economically powerful human worlds have been settled by people from the Middle East (like Hilav, settled by Alevi Turks), around the human worlds Arab, Turkish and Persian fashion are considered formal high fashion.

Suits and ties like what we wear now are antiquated, showing up wearing one is like showing up in plate armor. Some very, very old corporations and institutions use them in special ocassions.

The human custom of kissing is considered unsanitary or just plain wierd by most other species. Except those who are into weird fetishes, of course. Like ew, you're really into that?

There are NO grey spaceships like in other science fiction (though there are some with faded paint). It is a point of pride to paint your spaceship in your colors and personalize it, what fucking kind of spacer are you if you don't? Rioplatense spaceships are painted in proud fileateado, Serenissima spaceships display the coats of arms of the trading families, Australian spaceships are decorated in intrincate geometrical designs, every corporation has its own logo and livery, and the Socialist Interstellar flies in proud red and gold. And yes, of course, some paint flames on them to make them go faster.

Most worlds of Usamerican descent were initially settled by the late 23th century expansionist drive of the Latter Day Saints Church. For most of the galaxy, Usamerican is at least partially synonymous with Mormonism.

Of course, by the time this all happens (2600-2700 or so), nations such as Hawai'i, California, Cascadia, and of course Tejas have been independent for centuries.

Posca (name given by humans) is Campoestela's favorite drink. It's basically sparkling water with some salts and vitamins. It's sold everywhere and everyone drinks it because even across most alien species, they all like a little bit of the bubblé

There are many calendars across the stars, but the one accepted over most of Campoestela is the King's Calendar, which counts all the kings of the Precursors from the last one, around 22.700 years ago. Why was he the last king? Well, that's the mystery, right? The year is about 558 days long, and fortunately for humans, the day is easily converted into 21 hours.

While most human ships use "Earth Time" (24/365) and the Space Calendar (counting from the first flight of Yuri Gagarin), those who work elsewhere with the King's Calendar (or other) complain about the "missing three" hours. Conversely, cultures with longer days allow you a little more time to nap. Sometimes hours of it.

[lavendorium]

I wore lolita all Fanime and only remembered to take a photo of one coord TT

🖤JSK - Lady Sloth 🖤Blouse - Lolitimes (taobao) 🖤Headdress - Meta 🖤Tights/Brooches - Teja Jamilla 🖤angel necklace - Lavendorium (my own work hehe) 🖤Boots - Strange Cvlt

[barbucomedie]

Dress Uniform of Juan Nepomuceno Almonte Ramírez from the First Mexican Republic dated between 1823 - 1835 on display at the National Museum of History in Mexico City, Mexico

Juan Almonte was the son of the military leader José María Morelos who led the Mexican War for Independence movement after the execution of Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla in 1811. Juan worked with the rebels in Tejas (now the state of Texas) and assisted in the treaty with Great Britain, the first treaty Mexico made as a new nation.

The uniform shows the influence of the Spanish Empire on the early Mexican army. The early soldiers for Mexican independence were the supporters of the Spanish crown in exile during the Napoleonic Wars.

Photographs taken by myself 2024

[teja-has-puppet-autism]

Thanks so much! I usually don't have any strain with your flags not sure why the color combo on this one made eyeball angry 🤣

[Image ID: A slightly desaturated version of the loveless aplaroace lesbian flag with nine equally-sized horizontal stripes. From top to bottom, the colors are mid purple, pink, orange, light grey, lime green, light grey, golden, orange, and navy blue. End ID.]

loveless aplaroace lesbian flag!

loveless aplaroace lesbian flag-

[Image ID: A flag with nine equally-sized horizontal stripes. From top to bottom, the colors are mid purple, pink, orange, light grey, lime green, light grey, golden, orange, and navy blue. End ID.]

flag by me, requested by anon :3

[weirdestbooks]

Remember the Alamo (Wattpad | Ao3)

Battle of San Jacinto, April 21, 1836

Texas let out an anxious breath as he and his army began climbing up the hill toward the Mexican encampment. He knew how this would end if they lost, the Alamo and Goliad being prime examples of why Texas couldn't lose. He wouldn't—he couldn't let his people be massacred again.

Texas had to win this battle. He wouldn't fail his people again.

Texas watched as the men led by General Sidney Sherman started the attack, crying out, "Remember the Alamo" and "Remember Goliad." They knew what would happen if they lost as well. They had to win. They had to prove to the person Texas despised more than anything in the world, who, unfortunately, was his mother, that they would win.

Some of his people had been Americans before they became Texans. They told Texas about the United States's history. They were the descendants of revolutionaries, stubborn people who had done the impossible, who had done what Texas was attempting to do now. Their ancestors had done this once. Now, they just had to do it again.

No pressure or anything.

Texas shook himself out of his thoughts. There was a better time to be distracted. He had to focus. He needed to win this.

Texas quickly attacked and killed the first Mexican soldier he saw before cutting his way through the Mexican army. He needed to find Mexico. If he could hurt her, Texas could hopefully convince her to surrender.

Texas looked around the blood-soaked battlefield for her. The battle had been bloody even though it hadn't been going on for long. It was almost terrifying how quickly blood could be spilled, and men could die. Then Texas spotted her.

"MÉXICO!" Texas yelled, rushing toward the country. Mexico turned toward him, her face twisting into a sneer.

"Hola Tejas. Ya terminaste de fingir de ser un país?" (Hello Texas. Are you done pretending to be a country?) Those words send red-hot anger through Texas’ body, causing him to tighten his grip on his weapon.

"Yo soy un país." (I am a country) he snarled out. Mexico rolled her eyes.

"No tienes bandera y eres un tonto. Para este rebelde tan infantil ahora." (You are flagless and a fool. Stop this childish rebellion at once.) Mexico shot back. How dare she? How dare she bring up Texas’ lack of a flag? Texas was working on getting one made, but for her to bring it up was infuriating. She saw his lack of a flag as his inability to be a country. And that made Texas angrier than he had ever been before.

Texas began to lose control of his anger; the sounds of battle, the gunfire, the screams of the injured and dying, the sounds of his cannons that were firing broken glass, musket balls, and horseshoes, all of that faded away. Texas could only hear Mexico, her taunts digging into his brain and bringing up his insecurities.

Texas could only see her smug expression; she was most likely convinced she had already won the war. Texas loosened his grip on his musket, knowing it wouldn't be helpful with how close Mexico and he had come to each other.

"If you want my land, Mexico, you'll have to kill me. I won't surrender." Texas told her. Mexico's eyes narrowed, her face twisting in anger.

"Eres un estado Mexicano. Debes qué estar hablando español."(You are a Mexican state. You should be speaking Spanish.) She said. Texas narrowed his eyes, his anger threatening to overwhelm him and make him do something stupid.

"I am a nation. I am the Republic of Texas, and I'll speak whatever language I damn well please.” Texas said, starting to approach Mexico, who didn't back off. Texas didn’t know why, but he thought she was overconfident. She had committed two massacres against his people. She didn't see them as threats anymore, just something she could kill.

Texas hated it. Texas hated Mexico.

So he stabbed her. Before Mexico could react, Texas had taken his Bowie knife and sunk it into her stomach. Mexico screamed in pain and grabbed his wrist as she dropped to her knees, pain and anger in her eyes.

"Tú pequeño traidor rebelde." (You rebellious little traitor.) She spat out. Texas pulled his wrist and knife free, looking around the battlefield, his mind starting to process outside sounds again. The battle was over. The field was covered with dead Mexican soldiers, but when Texas looked around, he couldn't see many dead Texans.

Texas couldn't see Santa Anna either.

Texas turned back to Mexico, who was holding the injury on her stomach, still staring up at Texas with hate-filled eyes.

"Esta batalla ya terminó, México. Ríndete. Para esta guerra. Reconóceme cómo el país que soy. He terminado con este derramamiento de sangre." (This battle is over Mexico. Surrender. Stop this war. Recognize me as the country I am. I'm done with bloodshed.) Texas told her. Mexico gave no response, just started at him with those same hate filled eyes.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

May 15, 1836

They had captured Santa Anna the day after the Battle of San Jacinto. Now, he and Mexico would sign treaties to recognize Texas’ independence. He was filled with nervous energy. He had no international recognition, but now that Mexico would recognize him as the nation as the nation he was, more countries would follow.

Texas entered the room, and Mexico, sitting in the only chair, immediately glared at him. Santa Anna and David Burnet, Texas’ interim president, would be signing the treaties in another room. Texas was in charge of settling things with Mexico.

"Ya supongo qué estas consciente de los términos de este tratado?" (I assume you are aware of the terms of this treaty?) Texas asked Mexico.

"Tenemos el Acuerdo Público, y el Tratado Secreto" (We have the Public Agreement, and the Secret Treaty.) Mexico said, hissing out the words "Secret Treaty" like they were poisonous.

"Si. Y vas a reconocer mi independencia?" (Yes. And you'll make sure to recognize my independence?) Texas asked. Mexico laughed, a cold look in her eyes.

"Mi gente nunca van ha aceptar este tratado. Has forzado a mi presidente a firmarlo mientras que el ha estado en la cárcel! Y aún que mi gobierno lo haga, yo personalmente nunca lo voy a hacer. Aún no tienes bandera, Tejas." (My people will never accept this treaty. You have forced my president to sign it while he is a prisoner! And even if my government does, I personally never will. You are still flagless Texas.) Mexico said. Texas clenched his fists.

"It's Texas. I'm Texas now, not Tejas, not Coahuila y Tejas, but the Republic of Texas," he told Mexico.

"Entonces, República de Tejas, espero que disfrutes tu independencia. Pero cuándo falles como un país, no esperes que esté sorprendida." (Well then Republic of Texas I hope you enjoy your independence. But when you fail as a country, don't expect me to be surprised.) Mexico said before standing up and marching out of the room.

After a moment, Texas sat down in the chair Mexico had just vacated. He had done it. He had won. Then, that statement finally sank it. He had won.

What was that going to mean for his future? Texas knew he had the Secret Treaty, which would ensure future treaties with the Mexican government would go well, but he was still worried about attacks from Mexico. Mexico was a lot more powerful than him, and she knew it. If she broke the treaty, Texas would not likely win another war with her anytime soon.

And international recognition! Texas had to get others to recognize him. The United States was necessary, as that country and he shared a border, so his support would be valuable. The empires France and Britain, along with other European countries, would also be useful allies.

Texas let out a shaky breath as he realized how daunting the task laid out in front of him was. Making himself a prosperous nation was a big task, but it had been done before. The United States had done it. Why couldn't he?

[dear-indies]

Okay so this is a big ask, and I truly cannot say PLEASE AND THANK YOU hard enough for even considering answering this. I’m thinking about making a blog that goes through an entire bloodline. Starting with a bit more old times fantasy stuff, into modern day, and maybe heading into a more cyberpunk era.

I have a base but and ideas for characters that can fill in gaps but I do need some help and opinions, and sorry to say, you’re the best one for this. Sorry for how huge this is gonna get lol. Know that you have my eternal gratitude for even looking at this though.

Okay so for the main base I’m thinking Ram Charan, but I would like a fc that you think could work for a younger fc for him (early to mid 20s)

Up next in the line I just need general fc help. Character is a male about middle aged, and Indian. Very gruff and angry at what seems like the world, but kind deep down. Nearest thing I can liken him to would be the punisher from marvel.

Next up would be my modern muse. I was thinking Avan Jogia, but if you don’t think he’d fit the trend of the previous characters ethnicity wise, I am more than open to different suggestions.

Lastly is the character in a more futuristic type setting. I’d like a woman that very much has a cool biker girl vibe could literally be anywhere from like early 20s to mid 30s.

This got ENORMOUS, but your insight is invaluable when it comes to fc help, but if this is too much for you that’s fine too. Feel free to let me know either way. You do so much for us, and I cant say thank you enough.

Hey anon! Thank you so muck for your kind words! I almost finished this ask but somehow it didn't save so now I'm doing it again. 😭😭

Ram Charan, early 20s - here are all the Telugu actors I know in their 20's!

Adarsh Gourav (1994) Telugu.

Shiva Kandukuri (1994) Telugu.

Panja Vaisshnav Tej (1995) Telugu.

Master Bharath (1996) Telugu.

Santosh Sobhan (1996) Telugu.

Sri Simha Koduri (1996) Telugu.

Akash Puri (1997) Telugu.

Male, middle aged, Indian. Very gruff and angry at what seems like the world, but kind deep down - I didn't know if he had to be Telugu but I did include Telugu suggestions!

Nagarjuna (1959) Telugu.

Suniel Shetty (1961) Tulu.

Shah Rukh Khan (1965) Hyderabadi, Pathan, Kashmiri.

Salman Khan (1965) Marathi, Dogra, Alakozai Pashtun.

Vikram (1966) Tamil.

Akshay Kumar (1967) Punjabi.

Ravi Teja (1968) Telugu.

John Abraham (1972) Malayali Syrian / Irani Zoroastrian.

Arjun Rampal (1972) Indian, part Dutch.

Farhan Akhtar (1974) Irani.

Sendhil Ramamurthy (1974) Kannadiga / Tamil.

Hrithik Roshan (1974) Punjabi and Bengali - I didn't know he has polydactyly!

Nandamuri Kalyan Ram (1978) Telugu.

Vaibhav Reddy (1978) Telugu.

Tottempudi Gopichand (1979) Telugu.

Avan Jogia muse:

I'm not sure which bloodline you wanted this muse to follow so please get back to me!

Cool biker girl, early 20s to mid 30s:

Aiysha Hart (1988) Saudi Arabian and White - has spoken up for Palestine!

Lolly Adefope (1990) Yoruba Nigerian has spoken up for Palestine!

Gia Mantegna (1990)

Rosaline Elbay (1990) Egyptian has spoken up for Palestine!

Rina Sawayama (1990) Japanese - is pansexual and bisexual has spoken up for Palestine!

Tiana Okoye (1991) African-American - has a link to Gaza charity on her page!

Kelly McCormack (1991) - is queer - has spoken up for Palestine!

Pınar Deniz (1993) Turkish [Lebanese] - her vibes in Aktris - has spoken up for Palestine!

Sarah Kameela Impey (1991) Indo-Guyanese / White - we vibes in We Are Lady Parts - has spoken up for Palestine!

Seychelle Gabriel (1991) part Mexican - vibes in Blood Fest - has spoken up for Sudan and Palestine!

Hari Nef (1992) Ashkenazi Jewish - is a trans woman - has spoken up for Palestine!

Sky Ferreira (1992) Brazilian [Portuguese, possibly other] / Ashkenazi Jewish, Ojibwe, Cree, Chippewa Cree, Cheyenne, White - has Chronic Lyme Disease.

Medalion Rahimi (1992) Iranian, Iranian Jewish - uses she/they - has spoken up for Palestine!

Olivia D’Lima (1993) Goan and White - has spoken up for Palestine!

Mina El Hammani (1993) Moroccan - has spoken up for Palestine!

Devery Jacobs (1993) Mohawk - is queer - has spoken up for Palestine!

Anna Leong Brophy (1993) Irish, Chinese, Kadazan.

Jordan Alexander (1993) African-American and White - has spoken up for Palestine!

Jesse James Keitel (1993) - is a trans woman.

Mia Khalifa (1993) Lebanese - has spoken up for Palestine!

Jasmin Savoy Brown (1994) African-American / White - is queer - has spoken up for Palestine!

Adeline Rudolph (1994) Korean / White.

Natasha Liu Bordizzo (1994) Chinese / White.

Juliette Motamed (1995) Iranian - has spoken up for Palestine!

Coty Camacho (1995) Mexican [Mixtec and Zapotec] - is pansexual.

Jessica Darrow (1995) Cuban - is a lesbian - has spoken up for Palestine!

Sasha Calle (1995) Colombian.

Myha'la (1996) Afro Jamaican / White - is queer - has spoken up for Palestine!

Lauren Jauregui (1996) Cuban [Spanish, possibly other], likely some Basque - is bisexual - has spoken up for Palestine!

Imaan Hammam (1996) Moroccan / Egyptian - has spoken up for Palestine!

Ella Balinska (1996) Afro Jamaican / White.

Yumi Nu (1996) Japanese / White.

Tati Gabrielle (1996) African-American, 1/4 Korean.

Blu Hunt (1996) Oglala Lakota, Apache, White - is queer.

Kassius Nelson (1997) Black British - vibes in Dead Boy Detectives.

Alaqua Cox (1997) Menominee, Mohican - is deaf and a below the knee leg amputee - vibes in Hawkeye.

Julia Dalavia (1998) Brazilian - vibes in Pantanal.

Odessa A'zion (2000) part Ashkenazi Jewish - has spoken up for Palestine!

Reneé Rapp (2000) - is a lesbian - has spoken up for Palestine!

I hope this helped!

[sunandsstars]

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ONE OF THE PEOPLE SERIES

@ssc7514 @blossom618 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @mrmckenzie @capitanostella @sublimedeersong @perseny @neteyamsbulletwound @imaginedisney1 @anbanananna @itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @megsthings @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen @berrybluez @netherklutz @avtprint @theesexystallion @annaleesworld @eywas-heir @yeosxxx @iwannabekuromi @rose-brulante @ghostlyworld

FOR DEJA BLU

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @eywas-heir @reneehillary69 @cavvedinn @itsyoboysparkel @doggodorime @dumb-fawkin-bitch @pandoragalora @thecrazyswamp @the-black-pines @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen @berrybluez @netherklutz @luciddasher @avtprint @theesexystallion @annaleesworld @noname2246 @dyingofcookies @mikeyswifie @yeosxxx @rose-brulante @ghostlyworld

FOR SULLY

@rose-brulante @ghostlyworld @itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen @berrybluez @avtprint @theesexystallion @annaleesworld @blueberryfailureclinic @eywas-heir @netherklutz @yeosxxx

FOR METKAYINA

@itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @eywas-heir @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @netherklutz @fanboyluvr @yeosxxx @rose-brulante @ghostlyworld @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen

FOR OTHERS

@itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen @berrybluez @atvprint @theesexystallion @annaleesworld @eywas-heir @netherklutz @yeosxxx

[boosterwithad]

Cowboy au where Alejandro is a cowpoke travelling el Camino Real de los Tejas (the Royal Road of Texas) to get to Louisiana. Phillip is a ranch owner on the road that keeps his doors unlocked and ready for a cowpoke to come through.

Alejandro is looking for somewhere to work, and isn't picky and Phillip offers him a deal: all his needs be met, so long as he helps out around the ranch and does errands.

Anyways now Phillip has a husband errand boy to help out around the ranch

[srbachchan]

DAY 5590

Loc,Ban,Mum                  June 7/8,  2023                 Wed/Thu  11:30 AM

🪔 .. June 08 .. birthday greetings to Ef Tejas Mankodi .. and Ef Rekha .. love and wishes from your Ef Family ever .. keep well .. ❤️❤️🌿

late again , but never ever missing the DAY to connect with the most important duty of the night, day, whenever .. the Ef .. 

Its work oriented .. am at work and the ‘dhun’ plays in the Vanity and the mind delves into the heart and soul of the chords .. they are the ones that deliver us to the ONE eternal soul - the ALMIGHTY  ..

Music delivers at different levels does it not with each .. on its own bearing .. their connection depending on what they associate the chords with .. a temperament, love, togetherness, anger , distaste .. bringing it to the fore of their own existence ..  the difference of the mind and body with each .. one that has still not been discovered or reasoned or given proof of .. the mystery .. that is the providence of that unknown force .. which when we step out to discover , even the most complex and education falls short after a while ..

they say as age progresses the human that can think and express does desire the need to aspire , to discover , to find out , what the world beyond is like .. or more of it .. they say .. I wonder why .. does it need to know where he shall eventually rest his expired body and soul - if at all the theory of the soul exists  .. or what .. ?

strange .. but has and does occur ..

SECTION 84 IPC .. delves deep into the minds of those that work on its operation , on its deeds , on its path of deliverance .. 

Naaah it is not all that filling of the divine .. its practical and pursues intellect .. and the need for resilient thinking , to be able to master the process of freedom from the unexpected .. 

ok i do believe I am sounding far too detailed .. so shall refrain ..

Love as ever .. ❤️❤️❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

[thenewwei]

BAD AMERICANS by Tejas Desai-An Update on the Great American Pandemic Novel

On this Independence Day Eve, I have to report that things are not looking good for the prospects of my latest book BAD AMERICANS being conventionally published. I haven’t gotten a single hit among the 50 agents or so I sent queries to several months ago. The ones who deigned to give a non-form response told me that the massive Great American Pandemic Novel was too long to be conventionally published.

Apparently, anything over 120,000 words is virtually impossible to publish right now, let alone a novel and short story collection in one, which is unheard of and doesn’t fit into a defined bookstore category. One agent even told me to constrict it into 80,000 words—it is currently 260,000 words. Even with dramatic editing, that’s practically impossible unless I write a different book.

I hoped that my momentum of winning 15 indie literary awards for my last novel The Dance Towards Death would cruise me into a major publication and Pulitzer Prizes/National Book Awards as a kind of natural progression of artistic ascent, especially for an ambitious Magnum Opus like BAD AMERICANS, but this was apparently just wishful thinking. That's not how the literary world works, at all.

I conveniently looked past the risk-averse, rigid and bureaucratic nature of the publishing industry which is the very reason I independently published 5 books over 8 years. I hoped DEI would help the prospects for the most DEI book ever written, but yet again, this promise was exposed as a front and a lie. It appears the major publishers don’t care about true diversity in fiction, and certainly not when there’s innovation and raw realism involved.

I’ve also sent BAD AMERICANS, meaning the whole manuscript, edited/half versions, and the individual stories out to indie publisher contests, but these have also resulted in rejection so far, and I’m not hopeful for a hit. These contests have also been very expensive—the fees for each contest range from $25-$80. I’m basically subsidizing their companies when that money would traditionally be used to promote my own works or those of other New Wei writers I admire. And it’s likely I could build a bigger profile and readership for BAD AMERICANS through The New Wei even if a small publisher does accept it.

Of course, sending BAD AMERICANS directly to the People has resulted in a much different outcome. Massive amounts of sensitivity (I hate this word—I prefer identity?) readers and beta readers have read and thoroughly commented on both the individual stories and the 1000 page book as a whole. How much did they charge? Nothing at all. In fact they were thrilled to participate in and aid this important project.

The 12 internal stories, most of which are novelettes or novellas, have been universally praised. I have gotten some criticisms on the frame story, particularly the long food and activity descriptions, and these will be edited. But even those critical readers finished the massive novel and admired it on the whole (meanwhile, the so-called publishing professionals have done absolutely nothing for this work).

In fact, one retired librarian read the 1,000 page tome two times, including giving me extensive line-by-line feedback the second time, and now wants to read it a third time. And she loved the individual stories so much that she adapted two, with my permission, and gave them to her book club to read and discuss. Now that’s dedication!

So essentially, I am at yet another crossroads. Do I keep trying to get the book conventionally published, which will likely take many years if it ever happens at all, or do I go it alone yet again and build The New Wei along with it? In particular, self-publishing BAD AMERICANS will be a huge endeavor due to its size, scope and components, likely one of the greatest self-publishing projects ever undertaken.

Well, you know I love a great challenge.

At this point, barring some miracle (and a few have happened to me), for the next six months I’m going to plan to do a final revision of the frame story and rebuild or confirm my team for the large publishing project. Perhaps I will send out 50 more queries to agents and here and there enter a contest—seems like a waste of time and money but I suppose you never know, I could get lucky.

Under the Grand Design, one story would be published as a Kindle ebook for each month of 2025 and then the whole book would be published in two volumes, in multiple formats, six months apart in 2026. That would be an all-consuming 2 year publishing project consisting of 18-20 distinct publications (possibly one with the whole work too, meaning potentially over 20) involving the same book.

Now that would be dedication!

We’ll see—I reserve the right to revise timelines, elements, and paths, but as you all know, once I get a plan for a project in my mind, almost nothing except divine intervention (and perhaps not even that) can stop me.

My goal all along has been to create a massive oeuvre like Balzac’s The Human Comedy, Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha County books and Dostoyesky’s St. Petersburg works. Waiting around for publishers to take notice on a whim will likely never fulfill my ambitions, let alone my additional one of promoting other great indie literary writers I admire.

I hope to have help with this great enterprise, but other than my magnificent team and my growing number of wonderful fans, I’m not going to plan on it! :( #literature #books #publishing #thehumantragedy #BadAmericans #authors