#these are my lovable morons now

[maevelin]

Colin and Friends

What I LOVE about this new sneak peek with Colin being out with Benedict, Mondrich and Sterling is that it is such a contrast from when he was in a similar environment trying to fit in with people that could not understand him and he was being suffocated by pretending to be someone he was not and when he said that it feels lonely they laughed at him.

HERE, he is among TRUE friends, he is happy and more so he can be HIMSELF without feeling shame. The TONE is so different. Colin has accepted who he is. He has Penelope, he is happy and he can sit there and engage with KIND people like John Sterling and Will and hear Benedict give ridiculous advice on how to make GREAT LOVE STORIES...even if it means throwing rocks at a window LMAO and Colin just LOVES THAT. He loves the GREAT LOVE STORIES WITH MEANING. He loves that he has his great love story. He loves he can be open and honest about it. There is no shame, there is only acceptance, he is at ease, he is having fun (genuine fun), he can be himself and he can enjoy being himself with people who understand him. He has removed toxicity from his surroundings and he has found purpose even in the people he now chooses to surround himself with.

It is such a parallel and contrast with his scene with Fife and the rest of the rakes and his scene here with Mondrich, Sterling and his brother. AND I ADORE IT.

P.s: Benedict -YOU LOVABLE MORON WITH ONE BRAINCELL- Bridgerton, yes your mother loves LOUD declarations of love and romantic spectacles but Francesca wants her quiet, cute love and throwing ROCKS at her window is so opposite to what our baby Francesca loves in cutie John. And John having to THINK ABOUT IT....is what Francesca REALLY loves in him too.

And Colin being...nope...no...rocks are out of the question. (Although I would not put it past him to throw rocks at Penelope's window to get her attention if we are being honest ha ha)

I just LOVE THEM. MY IDIOTS!

[raven-loop]

Hidden Away [Part 1]

Pairing: Heimdall X Female!Reader

Summary: Heimdall does something considered cowardly, it takes him somewhere he never thought it would.

Warnings: Violence, injuries, fighting (I'm terrible at warnings)

[Picture not mine]

AN: Had a small idea for this lovable jerk.

--------------------------------------

No...

No!

This wasn't how it was suppose to go. Heimdall was suppose to show up and defeat Kratos! Not the opposite!

"You absolute MORON!" Throwing another bïfrost attack, all Heimdall could do was watch as Kratos effortlessly avoided it and ran at him with that stupid spear.

This time he managed to avoid it as Kratos threw it at him. Unlike before, how he caught it, not expecting the spear to explode. It caught him off guard. The bleeding wound on his face told that tale for him.

It became apparent that he was not prepared properly for this fight. Who would have thought, the god of foresight - not prepared.

And that's when he did something stupid. Something only a coward would do.

Summoning all his strength, Heimdall threw another, even more powerful bïfrost attack at Kratos. Bright purple erupted in front of Kratos, and he couldn't avoid it as it covered his entire body.

Heimdall used up too much magic, he couldn't summon more. So he took his chance and ran. Adrenaline coursing through him, his legs took him far despite the injuries he sustained. It wouldn't last long, which is why Heimdall had to take advantage of it.

The scenery around him changed, the forest grew bigger it seemed. But he wasn't paying attention, he just ran. Ran until his lungs started burning. Until his wounds bled too much. Until his vision grew blurry.

Until everything was black.

____________________________________________

When his vision came back, it was clear he was somewhere entirely different than where he passed out in. There was a roof above him to start off, and his wounds didn't hurt anymore.

Slowly, once he had enough strength, he sat up on what seemed to be a bed, it felt comfortable enough to be one, and looked down.

His wounds were healed.

Though his clothes were still bloody and tattered. But... Who healed him?

His head jerked at hearing the small thud of something hitting a table. Immediately he was in a defensive mode, seeing someone - a lady - standing by a table not too far from him. She didn't notice he was awake.

You were oblivious of the man staring you down until you turned, freezing at seeing him awake. Both you and the man stared at each other, not knowing what to do or say. You swallowed and approached him, "Hello. I'm-"

You were cut off as he tried reaching for his sword, only to be confused when it wasn't there. "What did you do to my-" "It's... There on the wall," you pointed to the sword hanging from a rack, Gjallahorn was also there, "I took them off you so I could tend to your wounds better."

Either the herbs were clogging his mind or he thought you were lying, but he asked, "Why did you heal me? And where am I? You better tell the truth... No use lying to me."

"I have no reason to lie. I am Y/N... as I was going to say, and I healed you because you were bleeding out near my home. Currently you are in said home of mine."

He went quiet before scoffing, "You're a fool for healing me."

Ouch.

Frowning, you watched as he got up and took his horn and sword off the rack. You took a step back, fearing he would use it on you. Thankfully he just placed it on his side.

"I'm not a fool. I did it out if kindness-" "You did it out of pity," He scowled, "I don't need your pity..." Now it was your turn to scowl, "A 'thank you' would be nice. I saved your life!" He chuckled, "No. All you did was waste your stupid resources."

Your fists clenched, how you wanted to punch him so badly. You couldn't understand how someone could be so arrogant, even after you saved his life. But you swore you would never hurt anyone, not if they didn't hurt you first, so you pushed your anger back.

In a calmer tone, you spoke, "Look... Your clothes are still dirty and so are you. If you'd like, there's a river nearby where you can wash off in. And don't worry, there aren't many who can find their way into this forest, Heimdall."

"So you do know who I am..." You smiled slightly at that, "I've heard about you, yes." You glanced at Gjallahorn, it was hard to mistake him for anyone else. Clearing your throat you spoke, "The river is just past a patch of flowers outside."

Heimdall stared at you, and for a moment it looked like he had something to say. Though after a tense moment he swiftly walked past you and out of your home. "You're welcome!"

No response. Of course.

Once he was gone, you sighed. Looks like you had a lot to work with here...

-------------------------------------------------------

AN: OOH BOY.

This started off as a tiny idea but turned into a lot more than I expected it to. Honestly I have no idea how far I'll get with this skndidjd But tell me what y'all think, I already got quite a few ideas for how this story could progress <3

[doyouknowthisbook-poll]

Do you know which book this is from?

Please reblog the polls, but KEEP IT SPOILER-FREE to make people read the excerpt with an open mind 💖📚 Title and author will be revealed after the poll's conclusion.

Note: The alt-text is too long for Tumblr, so the alt-text for this poll is below the cut.

Edit: The results are up here!

It had begun with Christmas and the gift of dolls. The big, the special, the loving gift was always a big, blue-eyed Baby Doll. From the clucking sounds of adults I knew that the doll represented what they thought was my fondest wish. I was bemused with the thing itself, and the way it looked. What was I supposed to do with it? Pretend I was its mother? I had no interest in babies or the concept of motherhood. I was interested only in humans my own age and size, and could not generate any enthusiasm at the prospect of being a mother. Motherhood was old age, and other remote possibilities. I learned quickly, however, what I was expected to do with the doll: rock it, fabricate storied situations around it, even sleep with it. Picture books were full of little girls sleeping with their dolls. Raggedy Ann dolls usually, but they were out of the question. I was physically revolted by and secretly frightened of those round moronic eyes, the pancake face, and orangeworms hair.

The other dolls, which were supposed to bring me great pleasure, succeeded in doing quite the opposite. When I took it to bed, its hard unyielding limbs resisted my flesh-the tapered fingertips on those dimpled hands scratched. If, in sleep, I turned, the bone-cold head collided with my own. It was a most uncomfortable, patently aggressive sleeping companion. To hold it was no more rewarding. The starched gauze or lace on the cotton dress irritated any embrace. I had only one desire: to dismember it. To see of what it was made, to discover the dearness, to find the beauty, the desirability that had escaped me, but apparently only me. Adults, older girls, shops, magazines, newspapers, window signs—all the world had agreed that a blue-eyed, yellow-haired, pink-skinned doll was what every girl child treasured.

"Here," they said, "this is beautiful, and if you are on this day "worthy' you may have it." I fingered the face, wondering at the single-stroke eyebrows; picked at the pearly teeth stuck like two piano keys between red bowline lips.

Traced the turned-up nose, poked the glassy blue eyeballs, twisted the yellow hair. I could not love it. But I could examine it to see what it was that all the world said was lovable. Break off the tiny fingers, bend the flat feet, loosen the hair, twist the head around, and the thing made one sound—a sound they said was the sweet and plaintive cry "Mama," but which sounded to me like the bleat of a dying lamb, or, more precisely, our icebox door opening on rusty hinges in July. Remove the cold and stupid eyeball, it would bleat still, "Ahhhhhh," take off the head, shake out the sawdust, crack the back against the brass bed rail, it would bleat still. The gauze back would split, and I could see the disk with six holes, the secret of the sound. A mere metal roundness.

Grown people frowned and fussed: "You-don't-know-how-to-take-care-of-nothing. I-never-had-a-baby-doll-in-my-whole-life-and-used-to-cry-my-eyes-out-for-them. Now-you-got-one-a-beautiful-one-and-you-tear-it-up-what's-the-matter-with-you?"

How strong was their outrage. Tears threatened to erase the aloofness of their authority. The emotion of years of unfulfilled longing preened in their voices. I did not know why I destroyed those dolls. But I did know that nobody ever asked me what I wanted for Christmas. Had any adult with the power to fulfill my desires taken me seriously and asked me what I wanted, they would have known that I did not want to have anything to own, or to possess any object. I wanted rather to feel something on Christmas day. The real question would have been, "Dear Claudia, what experience would you like on Christmas?" I could have spoken up, "I want to sit on the low stool in Big Mama's kitchen with my lap full of lilacs and listen to Big Papa play his violin for me alone." The lowness of the stool made for my body, the security and warmth of Big Mama's kitchen, the smell of the lilacs, the sound of the music, and, since it would be good to have all of my senses engaged, the taste of a peach, perhaps, afterward.

Instead I tasted and smelled the acridness of tin plates and cups designed for tea parties that bored me. Instead I looked with loathing on new dresses that required a hateful bath in a galvanized zinc tub before wearing. Slipping around on the zinc, no time to play or soak, for the water chilled too fast, no time to enjoy one's nakedness, only time to make curtains of soapy water careen down between the legs. Then the scratchy towels and the dreadful and humiliating absence of dirt. The irritable, unimaginative cleanliness. Gone the ink marks from legs and face, all my creations and accumulations of the day gone, and replaced by goose pimples.

I destroyed white baby dolls.

But the dismembering of dolls was not the true horror. The truly horrifying thing was the transference of the same impulses to little white girls. The indifference with which I could have axed them was shaken only by my desire to do so. To discover what eluded me: the secret of the magic they weaved on others. What made people look at them and say, "Awwwww," but not for me? The eye slide of black women as they approached them on the street, and the possessive gentleness of their touch as they handled them.

If I pinched them, their eyes—unlike the crazed glint of the baby doll's eyes—would fold in pain, and their cry would not be the sound of an icebox door, but a fascinating cry of pain. When I learned how repulsive this disinterested violence was, that it was repulsive because it was disinterested, my shame floundered about for refuge. The best hiding place was love. Thus the conversion from pristine sadism to fabricated hatred, to fraudulent love. It was a small step to Shirley Temple. I learned much later to worship her, just as I learned to delight in cleanliness, knowing, even as I learned, that the change was adjustment without improvement.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Eclipse: Dude, I can’t believe you made it this far in life.

Good Eclipse: Every day I wake up is a day I spite you then. Spiting both you and god at the same time is wonderful.

Swap Eclipse: Please don’t.

Servant Eclipse: Don’t wake up? You can just tell him that!

Swap Eclipse: I meant do it out of spite you brain dead moron!

Lord Eclipse: Please stop spiting me.

Jigsaw Eclipse: Oh great, he’ll do it more now.

Ruin Eclipse: I think your goals are doing good, Siri, I support you in this at least!

Good Eclipse: I have the power of spite and the support of the cute one on my side, I am god now. All of you bow down besides my lovable supporter.

[wednesdayismyfunday]

Broken Pieces

Summary: Tommy helps his business partner feel better.

Pairings : Tommy SHelby X reader

Warnings : Fluff ? implied smut. Alcohol drinking.

The timing of it all seemed cosmic . Meeting Tommy during his most ruthless days was something he wish he could have taken back . Maybe then it wouldn’t have taken so long for yn to fall in love with him. She had seen him do things out of hurt . He said awful things to her so she never got close . It has been a year and Tommy falls more in love with her every single day . When they became business partners it was clear to both of them that they had different  views on how to handle employees. Yn was gentle and kind . She rewarded good work . Tommy was brutal and harsh . Both stubborn in their approach .  It took a few fights and bickering but they worked out their good cop / bad cop partnership well. Business had never been better .

“ Tommy , why did you yell at that kid. “ Yn asked with her hands on her hips.

“ He screwed up . What else would you like me to do . “ Tommy muttered in response. He took a big swig of his bourbon and placed it on his desk . Y/n sat down on the chair opposite him , grabbed his glass and finished off his bourbon. Tommy raised an eyebrow at his business partners odd behaviour. Y/n rarely drank .

“ I can pour you a glass if you like. “ Tommy said.

“ Tommy ,  do you like working with me?” Yn said .  Tommy sat up straighter and looked  yn in the eyes .

“ Do you want me to be kind or honest ?” Tommy replied .

“ Honest ?” Y/n responded.  Tommy stood up and grabbed another glass and the bottle of bourbon . He poured himself and yn a drink and sat down .

“ Sometimes you make me want to put my head through a wall . Most of the time I’m glad you’re here . You make the days seem less bleak. “ Tommy said. Y/n nodded and picked up her glass. She downed the whole drink and poured herself another one. Tommy was baffled , had he done something to upset her? Probably .

“ Y/n tell me what’s wrong . What is going on?” Tommy asked gently . Y/n stood up and straightened her trousers . She took his glass and motioned him to come to the sofa . They sat down next to each other knees touching . 

“ Sometimes I think I am un lovable. “ Y/n sighed. 

“ Y/n where is this coming from. What happened today? “ Tommy asked. He took the drink from her hand and put it on the table. Y/n let out a gentle sob. She was crying. Tommy moved closer and held her. Y/n cried on Tommy’s shoulder. They sat there until she stopped crying. 

“ Love, please tell me whats wrong. “ Tommy whispered. Y/n looked at Tommy. She new she loved him. She didn’t want to. 

“ Matthew broke up with me. He told me I am emotionless, that I will never find someone who will deal with me. “ y/n whispered. Tommy didn’t even know she was dating someone. He hated this guy immediately. Who would say that to her. Y/n is love in human form.

“ He is a moron. What kind of man would say that to you. Y/n darling. Never have I met someone as kind , funny, sweet and charming. You charmed me so much that I made you business partner. My dear y/n. You have no idea what you do to people.” Tommy said stroking her hair. Y/n looked at Tommy through her lashes. 

“ Tommy, I’m broken.” Y/n whispered. 

“We are all broken. Some of us are just better at masking it. “ Tommy said. He lay down and pulled Y/n on top of him. Y/n closed her eyes and relaxed at his touch. They lay there until they both fell asleep. Only waking when the winter air nipped at their skin. Tommy woke up first. It felt like it was the first rest he has had since Grace died. 

“Yn, I know its comfortable but we will freeze to death here. Let me start the fire, or we can go to my bedroom the maids would have lit the fire by now.” Tommy whispered loud enough to wake y/n but not loud enough to startled her. Y/n mumbled something incoherently. Tommy smiled and slowly moved y/n next to him so he could get off the sofa. Y/n opened her eyes and watched Tommy make a fire. He moved with so much grace. 

“ Tommy Shelby making a fire.” Y/n said as she sat up to take  sip of bourbon. Tommy smiled and finished making the fire, flexing more now that he knew she was watching. 

Y/n relaxed into the sofa enjoying the view. Tommy turned to look at yn. The fire bringing a gentle glow to the room. Yn looked at peace, maybe for the first time. 

“ I am in love with you.” Tommy blurted out. Y/n sat up straighter and smiled.

“ I am in love with you too.” Y/n laughed. Finally admitting to both Tommy and herself that she was head over heels in love. Neither made any effort to move. Both afraid it would break the spell. The fire crackled and flickered. The air was beginning to heat up. Tommy swore she would be able to hear his heart beating. It was as if it was forcing him to move closer. Yn stood up and walked towards Tommy.  

“ You sure you want this broken person.” Yn said putting her hand on his cheek.

“ Maybe my broken pieces will fit with yours and we can make a whole new person.” Tommy laughed. Yn smiled and leaned close enough to feel Tommys breath.

“ I warn you, once you kiss me there is no going back.”  Y/n smiled.

“ I hope that’s a promise.”  Tommy replied closing the gap. The kiss said thousand words. It promised love, it promised friendship . Tommy pulled yn to the floor , and lay on top of yn. There they broke all rules of being a business partner. Two broken pieces finding each other to make one whole human. 

“ I hope you haven’t done this with any of your other old business partners.” Tommy said while holding y/n in her arms . Y/n laughed , it was pure joy and happiness that seeped from her lips. A feeling of  content that she had never felt. 

“ Only the really rich ones.” Y/n joked. Tommy laughed and kissed her forhead. The fire was slowly going out, but the warmth in the room only seemed to grow. 

[gayspock]

like i swear im done haaaahaaaaaaaar

does anyone just feel a sickfucking resentment whenever they see anyone remotely interested in anything any more. idk. it gets harder to not submit to being such a bitter, jaded bitch sometimes but what else do you have. trying genuinely to find some fucking interest in any of it, or something to just help me bide my time til i fucking die and none of it fucking helps. the number of failed, stupid hobbies, attempts at outings, etc. and i just cry over it all, cuz in the end i wasted so much money and time and i felt nothing but fucking dogshit. idk it feels so fucking dumb. its such a dumb thing to fucking cry about sometimes and its so embarrassing because i know people would do nothing but roll their eyes & grit their teeth and tell me i just havent found anything yet or its not important and its like i dont know. its not just this is it its like. something something i feel so fucking barren in every aspect of my fucking personhood because i cant seem to fucking do anything right even the most bare fucking essentials. something something. im not just lonely bc i dont have people to talk to right now but about it being a repeated fucking problem and not havingany means of ever getting myself out of the fucking isolated hole im in. stupid shit like this being wrapped up into it. i dont have anything to put on dating apps oranything to talk abt with people because i think im like a fucking ghost at this point, im struggling half the time with basic fucking comprehension , my fucking brains slowed down to a grinding hault and im losing so many years and i dont know where theyre going just that its nonstop neverending never any way out never any improvement im not getting out etc ... because i cant fucking do anything but spiral downwards and theres nothing fucking else to do any more and hasnt been for a long fucking time. something something get fucking help like for fucking what at anymore. think they all justgave up because its just a road to fucking nowhere and theres no helping me not in a fucking melodramatic, oh i was alwaysss doomed way, but in the pathetic fucking nothing way . the youre not depressed way you need to fucking kill yourself because thats the sensible option why the fuck would you want to exist as yourself thats moronic bc nobody fucking likes you nobody ever would theres nothing remotely fucking notable nevermind likable nevermind lovable does anyone feel insane i keep crying bc it doesnt feel fucking fair that it takes so much time and energy and everything just to not even not-function but to just fucking coast sometimes. i keep thinking abt how sad i was as a teenager and how much it fucking drained and hurt all the time to keep trying to keep up with everyone like pleaseee please fucking like me and for what for what . i dont think a single person remembers who i am at this point and i used to think i was crazy and i still catch myself thinking it now but no they do not. like you. nobody likesss youuuu.... you iddiottttttttttttt... something, something AHHAAA THE BAD THOUGHTS! ARE SIMPLY NOT TRUE! ON ACCOUNT OF THEM BEING BAD!!! but screaaaam it turns out they are and they prove to be every single time...... keep fucking sobbing about how youre never the priority, my guy you are not fucking remotely anything to anybody because youre nothing and you are alone you are the failure you always thought you were nobody fucking likes you youre going mental trying to leech onto people and its not like anythings fucking different its just more detached like god why do i fucking show up for work and even fucking bother pretending. like fine im not actively trying toget close any more. im long past .that. go into work smile try to not fuck it all up come home and cry. but why even fucking pretend im fucking paper mache craft of a person does anyone want to set fire to everything before they die just for some vague satisfaction like

i keep wanting to fucking detach from everything and run away and never fucking see anyone ever again in some fucking fantasy world where its possivle to fucking torch everything. but like even that isnt real is it like is IT bc its just in my fucking head where i torch everything no matter what and nothing MATTERS IN THERE ITS JUST A STUPID LOOP and by gdo i wish i could remain apathetic but i start going nuts every time im stuck in a situation playing house and nicies too long its poisonnnn its poisonousssss help me CHRISTTTTTTTTTT BECAUSE i cant die in this house i keep thinking abt when i off myself trying to come up with solutions to never being found i am not fucking being another fucking husk of a fucking being not for forever I NEED. TO. DISAPPEA.R COMPLETELY. NOOO REMAINSSS CUNT NO TRACE POOF

[underthenightskydreamsneverdie]

Are you still gonna make new HL content or are you full hotch now?👀with love and respect, -nonny

Oh sweet Nonny,

What a complicated question. I want to make new HL content, I want to with all my heart. But without access to the game I unfortunately find my hyper fixation fading and my inspiration along with it. I’m hoping to be able to play the game again soon and my fingers are crossed that it will reignite my inspiration for these wonderful characters.

I currently have over 20 works in progress for HL that I hope to finish one day, especially Sharing is Caring, but I can’t make any promises on when that will happen.

I honestly didn’t think the day would come when I couldn’t write for these lovable morons, and I certainly didn’t expect it to be so soon. I still love HL and seeing the content our wonderful community makes. The game and the fandom hold such a special place in my heart, I promise you that it will always be a part of me, and when I do continue writing for HL y’all will be the first to know 💗

P.S. - I am still open for HLC reactions!! They’re so much easier than coming up with original storylines

[i-am-minty-fresh]

Topic Essay:

Fandom: One Piece

Topic: Luffy

Sub-Topic: The Moron

!Spoiler Warning!

I’m gonna (try to) make a much more broad topic essay about Luffy as a member of the strawhats later, but I was watching a video by LonerBox titled “Joe Rogan and the Hard Men” (which is really good, sidenote) and I started to think about the type of ‘Main Character’ that Luffy is and…I decided to write about it!

Clarification: This post isn’t supposed to be attacking the characterization of other main characters from various shows, even the ones I will bring up in this essay. For every character mentioned in this essay, keep in mind that I have either watched all the shows and/or I am an active fan of the show. I’m not here to say that Luffy is the best main character ever, I’m really just trying to break down why I specifically am as attached to him compared to other main characters I’ve seen before. 

Stupid and Straightforward: For anime specifically there tends to be two types of main male characters in like shogun anime: 

The Genius  

The Moron

The best example of this trope is with Chainsaw Man. To avoid spoiling as much as I can, Denji is your trademark stupid guy. He has a one track mind and little to no patience or sense of decorum. He’s more than a little selfish, cocky, and has zero sense of self-preservation. He also enjoys eating out, making friends, and hanging out with Power, you know…the simple things. He’s your Moron. Aki on the other hand is your stuck-up twat. He’s cold, and serious. He’s got a tragic backstory that fuels his passion. He hates how dependable Denji is for how fucking stupid he acts, while also being pretty destructive when he wants. He’s your Genius. 

This is a very common trope because it creates a bit of light-hearted tension between characters without it having to mean anything more than they have completely different personality traits. Natsu vs Gray (or Natsu vs Erza) from Fairy Tail, Tamaki vs Kyoya from Ouran Highschool Host club, Kirito vs Asuna from Sword Art Online, etc. (I know, I have a pretty shit taste in Anime but my point still stands). Even in traditional media it’s not uncommon to see the laid-back, do nothing, extraverted character becoming sort-of-frenemies with the quiet, up-tight, introverted character in an opposites attract kind of way. 

Of course not all main characters fall into this grouping (Tanjiro from Demon Slayer, Yumeko from Kakegurui, Light and L from Death Note, etc.) but the more simple the anime is the more likely, in my experience, that these kinds of characters are used. 

As I mentioned before, this is not a critique of this trope, if anything it's my analysis of why I like the trope as much as I do, but I digress.

When we first meet Luffy, it’s obvious that he’s supposed to be the moron. From falling asleep in a barrel when he can easily drown, to not noticing the bad situation he’s in, to not taking the easy way out of said situation (i.e. just complementing Alveria), to announcing he will be King of the Pirates, this is our lovable moron. The more we watch the show/read the manga, the more he checks the boxes: Selfish? Check. Zero self-preservation? Check. Enjoying the simple things? Check? No Patience? Double Check. 

Alright we have our moron, now we need our genius. I’m putting emphasis on need here because without a genius the moron can be a little…hard to be around. The reason the duality works is because it lets the viewer enjoy the best parts of both personalities without having to deal with all the negatives. Without the genius, the moron can hit a break wall and try to brute force their way through it without figuring out a logical way out, while without the moron, the genius can waste time by wanting to plan out every possible step. With that said, now we need the genius…well that’s when One Piece I think, really starts to show what makes it different.

Not a Braincell in Sight: One Piece has its fair share of smart characters. From characters held as geniuses like Law and Robin, to geniuses in their field like all the strawhats, to kings and princesses there has never really been a shortage of smart people in the show that could be used as the genius to Luffy’s moron but…it doesn’t. It’s kind of implied that everyone on the ship is smarter than Luffy, by occasionally a comically wide margin. Even characters that the strawhats meet later, even the fucking kids they meet later, are smarter than Luffy by comparison, but it doesn’t matter. 

Because He Runs The Ship.

Whether that be literally, in that he is the Captain or because he’s probably right and so everyone has to just follow his lead. He’s a selfish moron, but he’s also exactly what every person he meets needs. When he meets Vivi, she has overcomplicated her task. Not only does she have to save Alabasta, but she has to do it without anyone dying. She outlines how best to do it, planning, plotting, strategizing. Luffy breaks it down for her, he has to beat Crocodile and then everything will work out. Is he wrong? Not really. Without Crocodile, the Baroque Works has no reason to keep framing the king and with due time, peace will come. You can of course speed up this process if you fix your perception and build back trust before the end of the war, but it doesn’t make it wrong. The same thing happens at Dressrosa with Doflamingo. Luffy’s right to kick Doflamingo’s Ass, not just because he’s a douchebag, but because what brain cell was Law running on to think that if Luffy and him can’t beat Doflamingo, that beating Kaido is even possible. Luffy picks who to fight, Luffy picks how far into other people’s problems he’s going to go, Luffy saves whoever he wants whenever he wants. Everyone else in One Piece acts as the Genius, the people who are too into their own thoughts to get out of their own misery. Sanji and Franky refusing to join because of a debt they created for themselves, Chopper, Usopp, and Robin not believing that they have the right to join such a crew, Zoro and Nami not believing that they’re strong enough, and Brook’s total insanity. They are the one’s complicating their lives, and Luffy is here to simplify things. 

I’m Going to Become King of The Pirates! 

Luffy doesn’t know what the practical application of those words mean. He doesn’t know about Laugh Tale, or the Polyglyphs, or the Warlords and Emperors that he’ll need to fight to get there…because his job is to be the moron. The simple minded, self-sacrificing, impatient, child who gets his way no matter what. Every other character in the show acts as the genius, but not to dull his loud personality but rather to protect it.  His crew is tasked with knowing everything else, his only real job is to always win…and he always does!

Conclusion: As I have mentioned before I can write a million essays about Luffy as a character, but to me he’s a character that knows that he is the moron. He cannot use a sword, or cook, he cannot sail, or snipe, he cannot bandage wounds, or read the polyglyphs, or fix ships, or write songs. He knows his limitations and does his best. He can not be the Pirate King without his friends, and no one knows that more than him. 

I love the silly little stretchy boy with my whole heart!

[scripturekiddie]

WEB 3 POINT NO HAPPENING (High Level Why)

World of Nerds, WinkleVi, & the Reality Challenged

By ScriptureKiddie

Disclaimer: If you offend easily (stop being a pu**y) TURN BACK

Do you ever wonder why you feel so disconnected and lonely while living in a world with eight billion plus “intelligent” beings? The fact that most humans buy into intellectual superiority over any other of God’s creations may succinctly recapitulate the sum of glaring historical failures in every facet of our existence on this planet. Humans decadently guzzle their homemade, flavorless Kool-Aid until they convince themselves it is top shelf quality hydration. If you are offended by that truth, then stop reading now because this pill is jagged as fuck.

The world is loud, unnecessarily busy, riddled with red tape, wrapped in policy, with a policy to that policy on top of its policy, smothered in misinterpretation of misrepresentation and outright lies. Any of the few who fluently speak and comprehend reality (truth) feel the disconnect, the rest revel in the bro-ness of connectivity. The geeks and weirdos behind the wondrous blockchain and the idiocy that has ensued take this shit to a whole other level of fuckery, though. This is not a history paper so I will not delve into the faceless moron who started all this stupidity (I wouldn’t want anyone to know how big a failure I was either with this garbage). Well intended or not, the proof is in the Fonzarelli of Ponzi schemes known as crypto and Web 3.0 that click baiters from all walks of the lower rung of media can’t help but splatter all over the land of fake believe.

Meet The Fockers

I will not go deep, because TLDR is a waste of (y)our more precious than thou time, but let’s have a high-level gander at the cast of characters. It is pretty telling that some of the biggest names in nerdom have been handed or are awaiting lengthy (you think your juice box got jacked in high school) prison sentences. Names that I do not care enough about to research for recognition because who really cares? While they focus on the art of steady and firm grips on soap bars, we will cover the ones who will most likely practice the butthole pucker at a later date.

Let’s begin with the oddball, malnourished, (I am on the spectrum, so I get to dismantle others on it) Russian sheet stain, the godfather of gouging, ahem, gas fees, Vitamin Butterfinger. The aforementioned, faceless, Satoshi (I am probably not Asian but want a name that makes me appear wiser in the ways of merging tech and finance) Shamalamadingdong, who was gone like a fart in the wind upon learning what scalability meant. The familiar faces from the boomer gen of geriatrics that refuse to retire, gam gam and gampy who publicly criticize technology while privately having their grandchildren lace em up with streams of income directly from such, leveraging assets acquired by not having to pay 15 dollars a grocery item. And last but not least, Gen(der) Z, the 9th place ribbon wielding, everyone a winner, 10 billion gender bending, soft and oft offended by: lifting fingers, shit that’s none ya business, work, and business in general, plus anything that begins with re and ends with sponsibility. Honorable mention goes to the WinkleVi brethren simply because it is almost as humorous as it is sad to watch these lovable losers scratch and claw for relevancy in a world that wants nothing to do with them. Just because Hollywood portrayed you as such, you aren’t Armie Hammer, Bruhs. Not even if there was a special ed version. Not even if there was a fire. (Random but necessary Step Brothers)

Harsh assessments, maybe, but do your homework on any of them and you will understand that equalizers exist in this world to remind the wicked of who they truly are. Though I am not proclaiming I was sent, I will absolutely be dealt with by The Creator for the judgment of others, I am necessary. My sins versus any other person, are equal in weight to God but since humans have a different measurement system, at least I am not stealing from people by way of lies and manipulation. The sheer volume of Russian players and investors should be all the warning needed to steer clear of this insanity. That Russian in the shadows of the underbelly sure looks like a square businessman to me said no one ever.

By ScriptureKiddie

The Labyrinth

Smoke and mirrors, a boomer simplicity passed on as genius to a generation of identifiers of magical meows, void of gold royalty, and entrepreneurial owners of nothing. A “decentralized” web of dubiety, dumb contracts, and tens of thousands of fly by night, backed by jack “currencies” that have zero value to anyone trading tangible items. The exception being drugs, which, hey, you had something. Untraceable currency, until it was traceable. Hence, fail, fail, fail, and N FAIL T. Since we are now obligated to not hurt the feelings of those who fail, you get a pink ribbon of FAIL. Oh, but you are all wealthy, self-made (that word alone will spark my next blog as I school you on why you own nothing, have no talent, nor control a thing aside from the grace given of Whom you probably deny), and probably even conned some real humans into giving you nice things based on the ledger of lies you call a “Blockchain” huh? See how bought in they are when your system implodes, and they come looking for real things to collect to cover the debt for your Maybach bro. The point is, no matter how much complexity you wrap bullshit in, it is still bullshit. Nothing more, nothing less. The value of which is equivalent to the depths of your morals and ethics.

Why It Isn’t Expanding

So, you have this exciting new galaxy of anonymity and opportunity. Fundamentally based on a “level” playing field free from the oppression of Illuminatic (I identify that as a word now before you open your mouth Sir Poops with Kitty Kitties) dark forces and oversight by the blind, yet you are not growing at a pace commensurate with the lies of allure you are pumping into the ether. You woke though bro, so how is it not knocking you upside your mis-shaped/guided noggin?? Perhaps you had a realistic shot if you hadn’t outsmarted your own stupidity by creating a matrix of protocols too intricate for you to even explain in layman’s about how to send your “currency” from one shady entity to the next. This custodial wallet does this and supports this network of noncustodial sham dams which can bridge to that flatulent DEX to the one you can’t use in America but is being heavily promoted to Americans, so yea we are working on that, but you need to call Biden. Advise the poster child of confusion to fix it so we can share digital nothingness across invisible international lines of ignorance? You have the face and brain capacity only a mother could love. I won’t even mention, except I will, that Vitamin McForehead’s gas fees more oft than not exceed the transactional value being placed. Brilliance on levels of epic never before seen in the history of mental you know the R word. *** So as not to be canceled by the generation that ignores the fact that God is THE ONLY ONE who can cancel anything ***

Allow me a moment to google how to speak in idiot so I can break it down for all the “illuminated” minds who will more than likely be stuck at the first analogy wrapped fuck you I have placed throughout this un and necessarily pointed reality check. Suzie homemaker and simplistic business Bob aren’t down with it bruh. The seniority of Millennials are getting older and beginning to realize the massive mistakes made coddling you into the problem you have become. They do not have 35 hours a day to learn how to buy the drugs needed to cope with you on the dark web with the latest meme scam coin. Drug dealers do and will continue to exist in the flesh. Younger Millennials still buying in will begin having children that require resources bought in places that do not support Shima Uba Fluffy tokens. Biden gets confused tying his shoe and the boomers ultimately will fade into the afterlife for which they have prepared by faith and works (or lack thereof) during their lives (Trump is stuck on 2nd grade arithmetic so I wouldn’t get my hopes up). Gen X would rather send you to oblivion by way of banishing you to a nature preserve and placing bets on how many days (hours) will pass before corpses start surfacing. Do I need to elaborate any further?

By ScriptureKiddie

Novel Idea with Shady Intentions

The idea behind blockchain technology is sufficiently relevant and necessary. The problem is, you aren’t operating any differently than the evil scum that you claim to be building impenetrable walls against. The transparency is of paramount importance, that of which is the only protocol decently in place. Anyone with basic reading and comprehension skills can ascertain that financial, corporate, and government entities are nothing more than transparently in bed swapping syphilis, gonorrhea, and herpes amongst one another. Inserting complexity into elementary processes in an effort to line beneficiary pockets has been employed by bureaucrats since humans magically morphed into intelligent beings from tsetse fly excrement 200 billion trillion fillion years ago per the rocks and shit. Right after the bang that came from absolutely nothing. You are doing the same thing.

The cryptocurrency infrastructure is no different and it is a system destined for inevitable failure as referenced by every other innovation bred by human greed. You aren’t going mainstream with the status quo. Granted there are ways to profit with Bitcoin (at this point you need some money to play with), the Ether business model is a not so cleverly concocted Ponzi scheme staying glued together by a generation of creatively challenged copy/paste bloggers and untalented bags of douche known as influencers. It is not set up for the average Joe to do anything other than dump real money in and “HODL”, stake (scam), and mint (scam) NFT’s so the whales can gobble up the proceeds.

I intentionally did not dive into Web 3.0 because every other point renders it useless as is constructed. A collection of Atari inspired landing pages offering more confusion into the madness will last as long as the blockchain it is built on. The concept has merit, but you mofo’s are way off right now. If you would just surrender your life to God, you wouldn’t have to trick people into thinking you are relevant and swindle them for money they actually earn, remove all value from it, then turn into a bag of magic beans. You have only managed to take something worthless and make it worth less. I will give you a first-place ribbon for that shit.v

[puella-peanut]

could we get a lakreese scene where they're bickering over something stupid, but it ends all nice and fluffy lol?

In a nice!AU (which I’m basing this ask on), I don’t really see them as the type of couple that normally bickers. They’re weirdly compatible, smooth out each other's creases, and find their differences more love-able (or at least, uh, tolerable) than annoying. People wonder at the odd couple they make: one tall, burly, and perpetually sour, the other personified, loveable sunshine in what, a cute and convenient 90 pounds? Opposites attract. Maybe. Either way, people hate them! (But goshdangit are they fun to speculate about.)

Moving on...

...However, every now and then, probably once or twice a year if they get antsy for it, thrice if they’re bored—Daniel and John get into these topic-jumping arguments not helped by Daniel’s inability to not word-vomit, his hot-temper, and Kreese’s...just overall Kreese-ness.

.

.

.

For instance, John hates when Daniel brings his spare car parts into any part of the house that is not the garage. Disgusting. Remove it. If this were the Army, Daniel would be on his hands and knees with a toothbrush and a serving of regret and sore knees—and he’d deserve it. “Look, kid," John begins in a voice that brooks no argument, "I know you like to tinker with your toys—“

“—as a mechanic, it’s my job, John!—“

“—keep the guts in the garage. No sludge in the house.” End of story, John thinks. Now, where did he put his newspaper?

But Daniel is kinda ruffled now, like a little canary that’s had a feather plucked. Oh dear.

“Sludge? Sludge? Lemme tell ya, Kreese, without this part, that decrepit old Ford of yours wouldn’t even start, and you’d have to hitch-hike to your job ‘cause I’m not gonna be hauling you around like the ungrateful potato you are. And guess what, there’s no sludge ‘cause I used your newspapers to catch any drip, and well, speaking of sludge, that’s what’s in your coffee-mug—“ Daniel’s off on a rant, not helped by his not-so-good day at the bodyshop (fuck his co-worker Adam, that punk!!), and the fact that the only local Italian grocery store in this white-bread town still hasn’t restocked his favorite olive oil—how do they expect him to put a proper meal on the table?! Anyway, he doesn’t notice John’s nearly-perpetual frown deepen. Oops. 

And John does hear the rant—by now he’s attuned to them, like a television wired for certain signals—but what really gets his gears going is his newspaper being used as a catchall drip-receiver. Damn it, he’s had a long day at his job (fuck his co-worker Steve, that moronic prick!!)—and all he wanted to read about was the local baseball game, and how can he do that now when LaRusso’s got his little grease-monkey hands all over it?! Goddamn it, it costs money to have it delivered to their house six days a week. Money which, as their bank accounts know, is scarcer than hens teeth. That lovable little shit. 

Anyway, Daniel suddenly remembers how it’s not fair that John’s on his case for the wrenches and the screws and the rusty motor (all nice and neat on his stupid paper by the way!!), when John himself just the other day left his karate-bag on the window-seat and knocked down four, four!—of Daniel’s bonsai trees, and unlike a dumb paper, those can’t be so easily replaced and—

So it jumps from car —> newspaper —> bonsai trees—to the state of the country, the pros and cons of after-school sports, if they should RSVP or just show up to Terry’s annual summer party, to...well, everything plus the kitchen sink, since they’re snipping over everything else so why not snip over that too?

It goes on like seemingly without end even until Daniel angrily finishes dinner (using some dreadful generic-brand olive oil) and pouting like a ruffled Italian housewife, while John broods as he sets the table, and takes long, thoughtful sips of beer (generic brand, but that’s never bothered him), and wonders where he went wrong in life. 

So, after an uncomfortable dinner, John retreats to the living room to watch the college football game and sulk (not at all missing the little figure normally curled up like a kitten at his side, no sir...)—while Daniel calls his Ma, (‘cause he checks in on her once a week like the good Italian boy he is), and anyway, he needs someone to whine to, since his usual outlet is the current cause of his problems. Che schifo, Ma! He twirls the kitchen phone cord around a finger, his other hand off his hip and then on it when he’s not gesturing to Ma, his John, the Madonna above, the universe...

“...so yeah, that’s the thing about John, my oh John, he looks like a caveman, I know, and he thinks that wearing a bomber-jacket is the height of sophistication, but I’m getting off topic here, anyway, he runs a tight household surprisingly despite the scruffy look okay, and he’s usually very spick and span—I guess that’s the service in him, probably something he picked up in basic training, ‘cause jeeze is the house squeaky-clean thanks to his insane cleaning routine Ma, oh yeah, anyway we got into it ‘today cause John’s always pissed off if there’s even a crumb outta line—“

“No I’m not LaRusso.” John responds from the living room. At this rate, everyone from Lucille to John Wayne will know their private business, and the latter’s been stone cold dead these fifteen years. 

“—like I was saying, a crumb, lemme tell ya, he got all lumpy and sour like milk left out too long when I left a couple of bits n’ parts in the kitchen—yeah, Ma, on the newspaper like you taught me!—this is the type of guy who will wake you up in the am all menacing like, like the drill instructor he was—“

“Never done that, LaRusso. And I was a Captain—“

Daniel forgets his Ma’s on the other end of the line, forgets that she’s laughing at their antics as he snaps back,“—that’s a load of bull, ‘cause yeah you did, Kreese, 'member that time you woke me up and got in my business at an unholy hour just to let me know I’d left the hose running on the entire night and the water bill was gonna rocket up to the cosmos now, and the world was gonna end ‘cause—“

“—it becomes my business as well, kid, when a bill’s in my name. And dawn’s when you should’ve been up already,” John responds, focusing on the meat of the complaint and not the fat. He moves back into the kitchen, all slow and deliberate, his long shadow falling on the brat, menacing. And wasted, because Daniel’s not impressed in the slightest. 

“—dawn! Dawn he says, Ma!—on the weekend, John? On Saturday?!”

“Yes." 

Daniel rolls his eyes to the popcorn ceiling, letting out an exhausted groan. “Ma, Ma,” he sighs, “I’ll—okay, I'll call ya back later. I'm—“ he scowls at John. “Ma says hi—“

“Hi, Lucille.”

“—not that you deserve it." Daniel mumbles as his mother cheerfully sends John her love, and tells Daniel not to forget to call her, and to jot down his Sloppy Joe recipe. “Yeah got it, love ya too, Ma!”

He hangs the phone back up. Great, now it's too quiet. He chews his lip, turning to look at John, hands idly fiddling with the ends of his untucked shirt that he hadn’t ironed though John had reminded him, and not unkindly, only that morning. Before dropping a kiss that lingered on the top of his head, and heading off to work. His mouth twitches. Suddenly, this whole thing seems stupid. Probably because it is. The idling continues, and John watches Daniel watching him. 

Finally, Daniel opens his mouth to say something, anything, because John's just gonna just stand there until the earth swallows him up otherwise. He thinks of something just as John steps up right into his space, making him immediately shut his mouth again, words forgotten. Daniel cranes his neck back, because John’s so much taller than him this close, easily taller than the fridge too, including the basket of fake fruits piled at the top; one of the lemons had fallen behind the fridge what, a week ago, he’ll have to remember to find it before it gets all fuzzy and gross like—“

The back of Daniel’s head hits the wall with a thump. “Ow, fuck—“

John’s hand reaches out quickly, at once cradling his head and pulling Daniel to him in one smooth movement. “Careful, Prima Donna,” John says. His other arm settles itself at Daniel’s waist, and Daniel relaxes into it. It’s a good weight. Familiar. 

“What’d you care if I hurt myself, I could die from a wall-induced concussion and you’d still be on my case about denting it or something.” Daniel mumbles, but the dramatic petulance is just for show, something they both know. 

“Mm.” John strokes his head like he would an injured kitten. Now that’s a thought, Daniel snorts.

“What.”

Daniel smiles up at him, his hands moving to play with the buttons marching up John’s really nice chest. He undoes one, two at the top, allowing a bit of chest hair to peek out. Much better! “Nothing. Well, not really, ‘cause I was thinking, John, we could fix that old table that's in halves in the garage and I could use it for my bits and pieces—"

"—sounds good." 

Daniel beams. "Okay, alright, we can do that this Saturday maybe, you're off right? 'Cause I get off 'round one-ish, so...hey, what about we grab lunch or something? On the radio it said that the storm's gonna clear up by noon, so we can meet between your job and mine, oh John, there's this really cute breakfast-all-day diner that opened up midtown, we should—"

John’s hand moves from Daniel’s head to his face, thumb tracing the outline of his lips. Daniel stills. John tilts his head, leaning down, and Daniel leans up on his toes, curling his hands in John's shirt, already halfway closing his eyes but—

—all he feels on his lips is John's breath when he murmurs, “You think and talk enough for both of us," most unhelpfully, his face completely neutral as he pulls away and returns his arms to his side, leaving Daniel’s hands still curled at his buttons. Waiting for nothing. 

“You could die from such a man,” Daniel sighs as he sinks back to the flats of his feet, missing the kiss he never got. The weight of strong arms around him. But he grins up at John anyways, bunny teeth on display. Sweet sunshine again. 

There’s a ridiculously fond look on John’s face. “Don’t,” John says, brushing Daniel’s floppy bangs out of his eyes, and thumbing his cheek before he moves back. He grabs another beer from the fridge, leaving Daniel to roll his eyes, and search the cupboards for containers to hold the leftovers until the next day. Maybe he'll bake some more bread so they can have it with their lunches tomorrow. That'll be nice, he thinks, wondering if there's any garlic left over.   

John returns to the living room, turns the TV off, and puts on an old record instead, a faint smile on his lips. Daniel will be out in a moment or two all ready to curl up by his side, like a kitten. It's been a long day, and they're both tired. Maybe they'll go on up to bed early as well. Not that they'll go to sleep immediately. Heh. 

As he waits, he thinks about what he'll need to fix that table. And while he's at it, the lumber yard near the construction lot has some free wood slabs and pieces. He can stop there on his way back tomorrow, find something to build Daniel a nice shelf for his bonsai trees. The kid'll love it. Maybe he'll surprise him, too. 

Now...where did he put that newspaper of his?

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.

Anyway, Anon, this is what happens when you mix fire (Sagittarius), and Earth (Taurus) together. Not that Kreese’s birthday was ever given to be fair (come ON CK writers, fix this!)—but I head-canon him as being (a Boomer baby bless him), as well as a stubborn bull baby. His demeanor certainly fits! As well as the crotchety-ness. My cranky old caveman <3

But that’s just a hot-take brought to you by the Sag in me, Anon. ;D

[thescrapbookingscientist]

Biweekly Media Roundup

- Puss In Boots: The Last Wish (Movie) - Was blown away by how good this movie was. I’ve never even seen the first film but the buzz around this one convinced me to watch it and wow everyone was right. The art direction is fantastic, the whole movie looks stunning, the character designs (Especially the Wolf holy crap) work so well, it’s surprisingly dark in it’s humor, the Forest changing it’s structure based on the person is such a cool concept, and finally the themes of accepting your mortality and living a life well spent by throwing away your pride and letting yourself truly know and be known by others is insanely well done for it’s run time and PG status. There are of course things to nitpick about, for example I liked Goldi and the Bears but wish her wish would have been revealed earlier in the story so we could sit with it a bit, but overall this was way better than it had any right to be and definitely is something I’ll be watching again, possible even later this week. 

- Buddy Daddies (Anime) - Buddy Daddies is still solid, recent episode had some great animated hydrangea shots. 

- The Vampire Dies In No Time (Anime) - Getting to see some backstory for the leads is fun, baby Drac is cute and Ronaldo’s older brother is pretty funny, I would love to specifically see him and Drac interact in the future given how amused Drac is by his obvious bullshitting. And as always John is best boy.

- Ranking of Kings (Anime) - Love Queen Hilling for subverting the cruel stepmother trope, She’s a certified MILF and objectively the best parent in the show.

- Gintama (Anime) - We haven’t really even scratched the surface yet at anime night but I’m starting to remember just how insane this series gets the farther you get in. Looking forward to hundreds of episodes of incomprehensible nonsense (said affectionately). 

- Welcome to Demon School! (Anime) - While there were some moments I liked, I’m glad we are finally done with the Harvest Festival arc, as it was one of my least favorite for the series. But hey, it’s over and we got to spend more time with the teachers which is nice, Balam is super wholesome and Kalego is hilarious, and hey also Kirio is back, he’s always fun in a “jesus christ bro wtf” kind of way. 

- Love Is War (Anime) - Wholesome shenanigans starring a cast of lovable morons is clearly my favorite genre, so no surprise that I’m still greatly enjoying this. Miko’s a good addition to the cast, she reminds me of my fave Danganronpa boy Ishimaru and has a fun antagonistic relationship with Ishigami. 

- The S Classes That I Raised (Webcomic) - Not much to say, looking forward to see how the government worker S class and Baby dragon man will inevitably be won over by Han Yoojin’s overpowering mom energy. 

- Persona 5 Royal (Video Game) - I’m over 100 hours into this game, I think about it constantly, it’s taken over my life. I feel like that ProZD skit where he keeps thinking “I could be playing Pokemon right now” no matter what he does, but with Persona. Help me.

Listening to: Persona 5 OST, Fear & Delight by The Correspondents, EPIC: The Troy Saga OST, Happier Than Ever cover by Loveless, Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish, Anti-Hero and New Romantics by Taylor Swift, Fight for Me by AlicebanD, New Rules by Dua Lipa, Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones, Curses by The Crane Wives, Under My Skin by Jukebox The Ghost, Encanto OST

[pureforestspirits]

it’s hard to recall another fan-fiction i’ve enjoyed reading as much as this one.

mak, it’s impossible for us to tell that you even struggled with creating this sequel because of how truly well-written it is (equally as much as the first part)! the humor, the dynamics and relationships between everyone… everything is just 10/10 chefs kiss. you blended all of these contrasting emotions and topics together so seamlessly throughout this entire thing; like it’s seriously THE MOST perfect mix of humor along with everything else that’s happening in the moment.

i wanted to annotate this (in detail), but every line in this fic is a masterpiece in itself - so it would be undoable and unbearably lengthy. 😩 buuuut here are still my favorites i had to point out!

-the protectiveness of the sullys when ola’netu came around, which included lo’ak. and all of the lo’ak moments?!!!!!! he is literally the cutest thing ever here, i just wanna give him a million hugs. best boy fr!!! <333

-the kiddos being adorably funny

“And all the girls he had been trying to impress thought it was so funny–” + “It was on purpose.” Lo’ak blusters, picking up the pace so that he can come up on your other side and interject. “I was trying to make them laugh–” + “Oh yeah? Did you mean to burst into tears too–?” + “Shut up!” Lo’ak hisses at his sister, but it comes out as more of a whine. “I did not burst into tears!”

“Sa’nu,” Tuk warbles from a few feet away. “Lo’ak is being mean to me.” + “I am not! Tuk, stop being such a snitch–”

Lo’ak looks delighted with this news, and nudges at Neteyam. “Dude! Dad has no game!” + “I have loads of game.” Jake argues, turning to the rest of his family as though seeking backup.

It’s not much of a surprise to find Jake and Neytiri watching you closely, but it is somewhat of a surprise to see that the kids are all watching you with hawk-like eyes as well. You offer them an awkward, close-mouthed smile to try and ease the tension. The only one who returns it is Tuk, who throws in a cute little wave as well.

SO CUTE

-reader is (sometimes unintentionally) hilarious too lmao

“Your dick isn’t nearly as big as your head is, you know that?”

“Your husband is a moron.”

“Oh my god– so, you and Neytiri have been married for years, and the whole time everyone has thought that I’m just some sad loser that follows the two of you everywhere–”

“I don’t know! You’re a friendly guy!” You yell back, painfully aware of how stupid you sound right now.

-*cutely copy-and-pastes the entire section where lo’ak visits*

poor bb worried about “divorce” omg, and the kids calling reader “um’ma” and seeing her as “one of [their] moms”. 🥹

But while Jake may be giving you space, no one seems to have given that memo to Lo’ak.

trust me, i do not mind in the slightest!!!

You know you’re not meant to have favourites among the children, but you’ve always had a mushy little soft spot for Lo’ak. He’s always so hungry for recognition and validation, and yet he can be so damn sweet. It’s no surprise that he’s the one that’s skipping his duties in the clan just to hang out with you at the outpost because he’s worried about you.

<333

“Hey, um’ma?” Lo’ak mumbles, his voice all muffled by your shirt. “Yeah?” There’s a pause. Then Lo’ak says, “Ola’netu’s a loser.”

I WHEEZED.

he’s right tho 🤞🏻

“See you at dinner, um’ma?” He calls, his eyes gone soft and hopeful. You hesitate, glancing nervously at Neytiri. “Uh… I’m not sure.” You say non-committedly, smiling weakly. Lo’ak frowns, stopping dead-still as his ears pin back. “Um’ma, please.” Ah fuck, you never could deny that kid anything. You sigh, reaching up to rub at the space between your eyes. “Right. Yeah, okay. See you later, Lo’ak.”

the answer is yes yes yes yes

-jake of course continuing to be a lovable dumbass

“Now I know that’s a lie,” Jake croons, his breath warm on the back of your ear as he leans towards Neytiri. “You should have heard her cry–” + “Oh my god,” You hiss, whirling in Jake’s lap to slap at his chest hard enough that your hand stings. “I did not cry, you unbearable jackass–”

“It is normal to be overwhelmed by pleasure after so long of…” Neytiri pauses, her brow pinching just slightly as though she’s trying to remember specific phrasing that she’s heard before. “‘Not getting any.’” + Your jaw actually drops. The sound of the human phrase dropping from her lips is jarring, even more so when you know that it’s Jake she heard it from.

“He… and yet he was trying to put moves on you anyway?” He says, his nose scrunching in distaste as his fangs glint in the moonlight. + You gape at him. Jake misses the point so damn often it’s like he does it on purpose, but the fact that he doesn’t see that you’re being serious about this infuriates you.

“You–” Jake’s ears flick desperately, “You want a baby?” + “NO!” You yell, flustered and frustrated.

“Oh what, you think your dick is just that good?” You fold your arms across your chest immediately, scowling. + Jake pauses for a moment, and you see his mouth begin to twitch into a smile. Your temper flares, and you glare furiously at him. + “Don’t you dare.” You warn, already knowing that he has some smart remark planned.

“Ah fuck, you’re wearing your sexy panties, huh?” Jake’s laugh is a little hoarse as he tugs at your underwear.

🙄

“Jake… Your dick is too big, it won’t fit–” + “You think I gotta big dick, sweetheart?” Jake laughs, cause he’s an asshole like that. His teeth flash in a grin. + “You’re such a dickhead.” You complain, but you find yourself laughing breathlessly anyway.

+ jake somehow knowing where the bottle of lube was, THE SPINNING AROUND ON HIM LIKE A TOP (PLEASE), and the indifference j+n had to the bed breaking beneath them

Dinner will be soon, and you’re hungry. Besides, you had promised Lo’ak you’d be there.

yes, yes i did.

perfect conclusion. <3

ミ sex education

part one. | part two.

🍓 pairing: jake sully x human fem reader x neytiri

🍓 tags: nsfw, best friend!jake, dilf jake cause i can't help myself, jealousy, allien cultural misunderstandings,size kink, alien genitalia, human x na'vi, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, threesomes

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

You have no idea how you’ve managed to get yourself into this position.

Well, that’s not strictly true. You suppose it all started with your best friend stuffing you full with his fingers until you had trembled apart in his arms. 

You awake the morning after, loose-limbed and jelly-jointed with a sense of bone-deep satisfaction, naked limbs tangled with Jake’s big blue ones. He’s comically overlarge for your bed, his legs hanging off the edge of the mattress, and one of his big arms is looped lazily over your back. 

You had expected things to be awkward afterwards, but when Jake finally stretches himself awake he just greets you with a yawn, slaps your ass, and asks if he’ll see you later on for dinner. When you agree he kisses the top of your head, wiggles his way back into his loincloth, and gives you a cheeky wink before sauntering out to return to the village.

You’re left bewildered and alone in your room. Truthfully, part of you had expected him to freak out a little over awaking naked in your bed after indulging in inappropriate activities with you the night before; maybe panic and call it all a crazy mistake. You certainly hadn’t expected him to act as though waking up with you naked in his arms was the most natural thing in the world.

You spend the day alternating between overthinking and relishing the memories of Jake’s hands on you. Good god, had you been missing out on that all along? He had seemed so casual about it all, as though it was simply a given that he would finger you to climax if that’s what you wanted. 

You have to take a cold shower shortly after Jake leaves, partly to calm yourself down and partly to wash off the scent of Jake that still clings to you. If your dull human nose can pick up on it, you can only imagine that you must stink to a Na’vi, so you make sure to scrub at yourself with your berry-scented shower gel until you smell of nothing but artificial human soap.

You’re still a little nervous when you wander into the village later that day, but you’re greeted as enthusiastically as ever by the whole Sully family. Jake ruffles your hair and winks at you before clapping Neteyam on the shoulder and leading him off towards the cookfire to gather meat for the family. 

You’re left with Kiri and Lo’ak, and you can’t help but smile as the kids start to shepherd you towards the usual spot where you all usually take meals.

“– and then Lo’ak fell all the way down and landed flat on his back,” Kiri is telling you a story with great relish, walking close to you. “And all the girls he had been trying to impress thought it was so funny–”

“It was on purpose.” Lo’ak blusters, picking up the pace so that he can come up on your other side and interject. “I was trying to make them laugh–”

“Oh yeah? Did you mean to burst into tears too–?”

“Shut up!” Lo’ak hisses at his sister, but it comes out as more of a whine. “I did not burst into tears!”

The familiar sound of their bickering soothes away the last of your nerves. Your shoulders loosen, and you start to smile as you follow the kids towards their usual spot for dinner. Neytiri is already sitting there with Tuk, brushing back her youngest daughter’s hair and murmuring softly to her. 

Your stomach clenches at the sight of her; you have no idea how she’s going to react to you, and you have no idea how you should act around her. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Jake pleasuring you like that had been her idea, and you feel yourself start to sweat at the thought that she might act differently around you now.

As Kiri and Lo’ak approach the log where their mother is sitting, she looks up and smiles when she sees them. She really is very beautiful; her amber eyes are bright, the skin at the corner of her eyes crinkling up with joy at the sight of her children. She’s graceful even when she’s sitting down, her long limbs corded with lithe muscle as she stretches out next to Tuk. 

Just the sight of her makes you feel clumsy and ungainly, and you feel your cheeks heat as you approach.

Her eyes flick from her kids to you where you’re following behind them, and you tense a little as you wait for her reaction. To your surprise, her face doesn’t contort into an expression of disgust like you had been expecting – her smile gets smaller, almost knowing, but no less genuine as you come to a halt by the log she’s sitting on. 

Lo’ak and Kiri are still bickering as they flop down on a log next to their mother’s, but Neytiri is still looking at you. Her eyes flicker from your head to your toes rapidly, as though checking you for injuries.

You’re wearing the Na’vi clothes that have been gifted to you again today, and you shift a little self-consciously under her gaze. You feel more exposed than ever, and you’re hyper-aware of the subtle bruising around your tits from Jake’s teeth; you just pray that they’re not obvious to anyone else.

Neytiri reaches out to you, and you blink in bewilderment as she grabs at a string of broken beads on your top that you hadn’t even noticed before now. She peers at it critically, before looking up to your face with a small frown. For a moment you wonder if she’s angry at you, and feel your stomach sink rapidly until she speaks.

“He was gentle?” She asks quietly, and you twitch when her palm grazes the side of your breast. “He forgets himself, sometimes, and you are very weak.”

“I–” Your tongue feels too large in your mouth. You stumble over your words clumsily; your whole world has narrowed down to that one, confusing point of contact between Neytiri’s hand and the underside of your tit as she studies the broken string of beads. “He was– it was good.”

Neytiri hums, and you swear her mouth twitches as though she’s holding back a laugh. “You should have asked for it earlier. You know we would not have left you feeling neglected.”

You make an odd noise in the back of your throat, mortified. You dart a panicked look towards the kids, but Tuk has wandered over to Lo’ak and Kiri and they’re all laughing together a few feet away, blissfully ignorant of your conversation.

“I– I didn’t–”

Neytiri chooses to ignore your fumbling, instead leaning down closer to your chest so that she can tie the snapped string of your top. The back of her hand brushes over your nipple and you tremble, confused as warmth blooms in your lower belly.

“You have needs that must be met,” Neytiri murmurs, her voice low enough that it’s just for you. “You do not need to look elsewhere to have them maintained.”

Your heart leaps and your stomach flutters, and you hurriedly lower your gaze. This is far from the reaction you had expected from her, and it makes you nervous. 

Stop it, you think furiously to yourself. They’re your friends! They’re married!

“Right.” You choke out, cheeks burning. “I– um… thanks.”

She nods, but then pauses. Her face is hovering close to your chest so that she can look closely at the snapped string of beads on your top, but she leans even closer as her nostrils flare. A small frown creases her brow, and her pretty golden eyes snap up to look at you. She’s so intense, and being caught up in her gaze like this has you feeling like a fly trapped in amber.

“You have used the demon soap.” She notes, still frowning. 

One of her knuckles brush over your nipple as she fiddles with mending your top, and you end up jolting at the sensation as blood rushes to your face. You can only pray that she didn’t notice your reaction.

“Oh, yeah.” You choke out a reedy laugh. You know that the Na’vi don’t like the artificial, acrid smell of human soap, but you had figured it was the best way to get the scent of your activities from the night before off you. “I, uh… I reeked of Jake. Thought it would be best to wash it off before, um… coming back to the village.”

Neytiri hums with a frown, and with one last deft movement of her fingers, the broken tie on your top has been temporarily mended. However her hands linger somewhat strangely, and when she withdraws from you her wrist ends up rubbing a little oddly over the side of your neck. You have no idea what’s going on, and you have no idea how you should be reacting. 

All you can do is swallow thickly, your throat bobbing against the warm skin of Neytiri’s wrist before she pulls away from you.

“It is good that Jake pleased you,” She says simply, turning her head to look casually towards the fire. When you follow her gaze, you see that Jake and Neteyam are returning from the cookfire with their hands full of food. “I worried that he would not.”

That makes you choke out a surprised laugh. “Wow. No faith in his abilities, huh?”

“It is not that,” Neytiri hums, though you can see the corner of her mouth curl in a repressed smile. “He was watching you all evening, getting worked up. I thought he may not be able to last long enough to satisfy you fully.”

That makes you laugh properly, surprised enough that you’re not able to hide your delight at hearing Neytiri roasting Jake. Your conversations with Neytiri alone don’t often poke fun at Jake, and you feel oddly thrilled by it. She offers you a small smirking smile, and you bite at your lip shyly as you return it. 

You’re still stifling laughter when Jake and Neteyam reach you all again; Jake steps over to you and Neytiri as Neteyam carries his food over to the other kids.

“Hey, what’re my girls giggling about?” Jake drawls, sitting heavily next to you on the log. He’s holding several nikt'chey filled with sweet meat and vegetables in one large hand, and a little wooden carved bowl full of teylu in the other.

Neytiri grabs at a plant-based nikt'chey, but instead of eating it she passes it to you. You smile, flattered; teylu is an important food for the Na’vi, but you’ve never enjoyed the texture of the little grub worms. You’ve spent so many years sharing meals with the Sully’s, but it still surprises you when she shows that she’s noticed your preferences.

“I was asking about your performance,” Neytiri says casually, her expression growing coy. “Tawtute believes you could have been better.”

If that pricks at Jake’s pride, he doesn’t show it. He just laughs as though Neytiri has told a very funny joke, before he turns to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and hauls you up into his lap, still clutching his food in the other hand – the motion is so familiar for the both of you that he’s able to situate you across his thighs with ease, even one-handed. 

Jake has been pulling you into his lap at mealtimes for a long time now, and yet this time feels different. His hand lingers around your waist, coasts briefly over your thigh. He’s always been touchy, but this time your brain keeps offering up memories from the night before; his big hot hands touching you, his mouth devouring you, his low voice murmuring insistently in your ear. 

Your face burns, but you’re determined not to show it. You don’t want to be the one to make this weird.

“Now I know that’s a lie,” Jake croons, his breath warm on the back of your ear as he leans towards Neytiri. “You should have heard her cry–”

“Oh my god,” You hiss, whirling in Jake’s lap to slap at his chest hard enough that your hand stings. “I did not cry, you unbearable jackass–”

“It is normal to be overwhelmed by pleasure after so long of…” Neytiri pauses, her brow pinching just slightly as though she’s trying to remember specific phrasing that she’s heard before. “‘Not getting any.’”

Your jaw actually drops. The sound of the human phrase dropping from her lips is jarring, even more so when you know that it’s Jake she heard it from.

“Oh, you guys are the worst.” You grumble, curling into yourself in mortification.

The two of them snicker together as you scowl, and Jake pats your flank as though trying to calm an irritated cat. Neytiri, at least, bites at her lip and tries to hide her amusement.

“No shame in it, honey,” Jake says, and you can hear the stupid grin in his voice. “I’m just very good.”

You roll your eyes so hard that it almost makes you dizzy, and when you glance to the side you see that Neytiri has a similar expression on her face; this time, it’s your turn to laugh with her, with Jake as the subject of your snickering.

“Do not get too confident, ma Jake,” Neytiri croons, leaning in so that she’s resting her body against his side. “You have only pleasured her once, and it cannot have been that good – she has not said much about it.”

Jake makes a sound of pure offense even as he wraps the arm that’s not holding you around Neytiri’s shoulders. “What? Nah, she loved it. C’mon, honey, help me out here.”

Neytiri’s eyes slide to you as she takes a dainty bite of her food, and you can see the conspiratorial little smile that she’s trying to hide. Your own lips start to twitch in response, and you hide your own reaction behind your nikt'chey.

“Oh,” You say lightly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. “He was okay.”

Instead of wounding his pride, your ribbing just makes him laugh. His arm tightens around your belly, holding you close to his chest as he ruffles Neytiri’s hair – she hisses playfully at him, though he just grins at her.

“Oh, you asshole,” He murmurs into your ear, his chest rumbling against your back as his bulk looms over you, “What, I wasn’t nice enough to you? I wouldn’t have known it from all the whimpering.”

Blood rushes to your face, and you barely suppress the urge to hide your face completely in your hands. You hold the nikt'chey up in front of your masked face in an attempt to hide, mortified when Neytiri chuckles softly.

“Alright,” She says, reaching out to pat at your thigh with her large, slender hand. “Enough. Tawtute is embarrassed.”

Jake just snickers, but mercifully gives up on his playful bantering in favour of taking a large bite of his own nikt'chey. His hand stays firmly planted across your middle, large thumb stroking over your exposed skin there every couple of moments. His touchiness isn’t anything new, but your skin is hot and sensitive and you have to fight back shivers every time he caresses your bare skin. Your stomach is alive with butterflies, shy arousal simmering at a low boil deep in your belly.

You’re antsy, and it’s only made worse by the fact that Neytiri still hasn’t removed her hand from your thigh. It just lingers there as she leans into Jake’s side, as though it’s just perfectly natural and comfortable for her to allow her touch to idle around the exposed skin of your thigh.

You wonder distantly if you’re reading too much into this. Jake has always been touchy, and it’s not that unusual that Neytiri has left her large, soft palm resting against the expanse of your thigh with her fingers curling absently around the sensitive skin of your inner knee. 

Sure, it might feel as though you’re boiling up a little on the inside from the overwhelming contact of their big hands on your exposed body, but you push your reaction down the best you can. Maybe you’re just super conscious now that the nature of your relationship has changed. It seems like you’re the only one that feels that shift though, because Jake and Neytiri are so casual about the way they’re touching you, as though nothing has changed at all.

You’re so busy trying to appear calm and measured and entirely unaffected that you hardly notice when Jake pauses his eating to turn his face towards you with a curious frown. He sniffs at you once, twice, before glancing towards Neytiri and raising an eyebrow with a barely stifled smirk. 

She just blinks back at him innocently, though there’s an unmistakable look of mischief about her eyes – whatever they’re communicating about silently, Jake seems to find it amusing. 

The interaction flies mostly over your head, too distracted with the way Jake’s thigh flexes beneath you when he shifts on the log and the way Neytiri has started to draw absent-minded little patterns around your kneecap. While Jake has always been clingy, Neytiri has always been more reserved in herself. Now, with her touching you like this, you feel absolutely thrown. It’s like someone has turned on a white noise machine in your head; all you can hear is static.

“Sa’nu,” Tuk warbles from a few feet away. “Lo’ak is being mean to me.”

“I am not! Tuk, stop being such a snitch–”

Neytiri’s eyes turn sharp, and she whirls to glare at her children. “What is happening over there?”

Jake rests his chin on your shoulder as he allows his wife to take the lead on dealing with the children. It’s comfortable, and you allow yourself to melt back into his embrace, like usual. Everything feels so normal, as though last night was just a fever dream.

As Neytiri scolds the children, Jake turns his face so that his flat, cat-like nose is nuzzling into your temple. It’s almost like he’s heard your thoughts and wants to brush them away.

“You okay?” Jake murmurs in your ear. “Last night wasn’t too much?”

You laugh a little wheezily. “No, it– no. It was… it was great. I was only joking, before.”

“Yeah, I know.” He snorts, “You’ve never been a good liar, anyway.”

“Fuck off,” You grumble, wriggling on his lap and nudging your elbow back into his stomach. He groans, but you can tell he’s exaggerating the amount of pain he’s in. “Your dick isn’t nearly as big as your head is, you know that?”

Jake lets out a startled, full-belly laugh at that, his head tilting back as his arm tightens around your middle. He seems to find that very amusing, and he’s still snickering when he leans in to press a kiss to your temple under the strap of your mask. 

Your stomach trembles a little, and you can’t help yourself from leaning back into the warmth of his chest – Jake has always expressed his affection physically, satisfying your own desperate skin hunger, but now that you’ve experienced his touch more intimately you find yourself craving more in a way that’s beginning to freak you out a little. You’ve never really thought about Jake like this before, and you can’t help but feel guilty. 

After all, you’re the one who’s looking at him differently now – as far as you’re aware, nothing has changed for Jake. Though he seems very flirty, that’s the way he always is! The only reason he had touched you like that last night was because he wanted to help you out.

Neytiri turns back from the children after giving them one last warning glare, shuffling a little closer and tilting her head so she’s peering down at you. Her hand is still on your knee; it hadn’t shifted an inch even when she had turned to hiss at the children, and now she squeezes at it a little to get your attention. 

“What is funny?” She wonders.

You clear your throat, a little flustered, and mutter, “Your husband is a moron.”

Neytiri’s lips twitch, and she darts an amused look over your head at Jake as his head looms over your shoulder. 

“Yes,” She agrees. “He is a skxawng.”

“Alright, alright,” Jake says hastily, adjusting you on his lap so that you’re pulled right back against his chest, “No ganging up on me, thanks. Besides, I know you both love me.”

Neytiri makes eye contact with you, then gives you a conspiratorial little eye roll. You giggle, impossibly pleased with the sense of camaraderie between the two of you. You even push your knee a little further into her hand, enjoying the contact.

“Will there be more dancing later?” You wonder, turning to look back at Neytiri with a smile. You remember the wondrous dancing from the night before, and find yourself hoping to catch a glimpse of the mating season dancing once more.

Neytiri hesitates, her head tilting to the side like she’s confused. “You are very interested in mating season,” She says slowly. “Even still.” She turns and gives Jake a strange look – one that’s almost chiding.

You’re not sure you know what she means, so you just shrug. “The dancing was pretty. I enjoyed watching it.”

Neytiri hums thoughtfully, her mouth twitching. Her chiding expression turns playful, and she leans in to murmur to you, “We will dance for you later, if you wish to see it.”

You almost do a double take at that, eyes growing wide as you choke on your own saliva in surprise. Behind you, Jake laughs at your reaction, his fingers stroking absently over the soft skin of your belly. It takes a moment for you to register that Neytiri must have been joking, and then you laugh nervously, unsure how to respond.

Jake just snickers, and leans over to nudge at Neytiri’s shoulder. You’re still not used to how beautiful Jake and Neytiri are, how perfectly matched. They ebb and flow against each other, always communicating with just looks or gestures. Jake has always been pure raw passion, while Neytiri is more intimate and reserved about her emotions. They compliment each other so well, something you’ve always admired about them. 

You’ve always thought that you would love to find something like that for yourself, but now it’s like your thoughts have taken a turn. Now it’s like you’re looking at them and wanting them; it feels as though your brain is rotting from the inside out.

The village is bustling full of life, the smell of sweet meat sizzling and the sounds of the People laughing and children squealing filling the air for dinnertime. You force yourself to relax in Jake’s arms, trying to act casual in the face of his and Neytiri’s teasing – fucking your friend was one thing, but now you find yourself utterly flustered at the thought of him and his wife dancing for you, of thinking about where things might go from there.

It’s a mercy when Lo’ak shuffles over, his presence promptly putting an end to any suggestive conversation. You’re almost desperately grateful; you don’t think you’d be able to survive much more of their teasing.

Lo’ak is quiet when he settles next to Jake, a little moody. It seems that he’s come over less because he actually wants to talk to his parents, and more because he’s trying to escape Kiri, who is still teasing him over whatever embarrassing mistake he had made while training.

Undeterred by Lo’ak’s scowl, you lean over and give him a little smile. You’ve always had a soft spot for Lo’ak – you love all the Sully kids, of course, but Lo’ak has always been your secret little favourite. The kid is funny, so like Jake, and so starved for recognition in a way that you recognise from yourself. When you reach out to pat his head, he leans into your touch with a little pout.

“Are they bullying you?” You ask teasingly, brushing his braids back in an attempt to neaten them.

Lo’ak just scowls even fiercer, but he doesn’t move away from your hand. “Kiri’s being an asshole.”

“Hey!” Jake says sharply. “Don’t talk like that about your sister.”

You offer Lo’ak a sympathetic little smile, before leaning over to whisper, “Are you still upset about falling out of that tree?”

Lo’ak’s ears pin back as he winces, clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t fall. I slipped.”

“Ah,” You murmur, fighting a smile. “Of course. Completely different.”

From there, the evening mellows into a familiar, laid-back atmosphere that you’re familiar with. Spending time with the Sullys like this has always been easy, and you find yourself almost deliriously relieved that nothing has changed. You had been so anxious that sleeping with Jake would have totally ruined the dynamic between you and the whole family.

To tell the truth, you’re not quite sure what to make of the fact that it hasn’t.

You sit sprawled across Jake’s lap all evening, with one of Neytiri’s hands settled over your knee. Jake is always pulling you across his large striped thighs, supporting you with a massive arm around your back, but this somehow feels even more intimate than usual; or maybe it’s all in your head.

You try not to think too hard about it. After everyone has finished eating, the children all come to gather around Jake as he tells stories. Both you and Neytiri exchange eyerolls frequently – Jake is predictable, and always chooses the same tales to tell.

“—Your mother tried to kill me when we first met. She thought I was a moron, but I thought she was beautiful.”

Tuk looks absolutely enchanted by the story, despite having heard it a hundred times. Even Kiri, at the peak of her teenage angst, is listening with a little smile on her face. 

Neytiri snorts, but she’s smiling too. “I still think you are a moron, yawntu.”

The kids laugh, and you hide a smile of your own. You feel at home here, with Jake’s family like this. That usual sense of pervasive loneliness that usually haunts you is entirely absent, chased away by Jake and Neytiri’s warm touches. 

“What about um’ma?” Tuk asks, shifting closer with a bright smile on her face as she turns her attention towards you. “Tell us about how you met um’ma, dad!”

You had been getting sleepy, but her question wakes you right up. The kids have always called you um’ma, for as long as you can remember. It’s like an affectionate name for mom, as far as you’re aware. You’ve always sort of assumed that it’s somewhat teasing. You know it’s not entirely unusual for Na’vi children to refer to older female figures in affectionate terms like that – the school children had called Grace sa’nok, a much more formal name.

“Oh, god,” You breathe with a little wince. “No, that’s not–”

But it’s too late. Jake is only delighted to tell that story, too.

“The first time we met, your um’ma walked right past me.” Jake says, launching into his story before you can stop him. “I was trying to catch her attention, and she didn’t even look at me once.”

“I didn’t see you–!” You attempt to protest, but Jake steamrolls ahead.

“I was in my wheelchair, so I was shorter than her–”

“Shorter than um’ma?” Tuk whispers in what sounds like bewilderment, her big eyes swinging towards you as if she wants to double-check your height.

 “–and she didn’t see me when she turned around, so she actually elbowed me in the face when I tried to get closer to her to talk to her. Gave me a bloody nose and everything.”

To your horror, the kids are acting as if they’re already heard this before. Neteyam is nodding along with Jake, and Lo’ak is already snickering. Tuk looks as enchanted with this story as she did with Jake’s story about meeting their mother, starry-eyed as she leans on Kiri. Your stomach flips – how often has Jake told them this story?

“I was trying to impress her, and she didn’t even look at me once.” Jake is still laughing, leaning forward over your shoulder so he can see his kids properly. “So you can imagine how embarrassed I was, after the pretty girl I had been trying to chat up completely ignores me and then nearly breaks my goddamn nose–”

You blink, startled. What? 

Jake has teased you about your first meeting several times over the years, always delighting in the fact that you had been so awkwardly clumsy, but you had never actually heard him recount the full thing from start to finish before. You had certainly never heard it told like that before.

“You were flirting with me?” You blurt out. For a moment you’re worried that you had misinterpreted what he meant and that he might laugh at you, but no such thing happens.

Instead, Jake tips his head back and lets out a groaned little sigh. “Oh, come on. You didn’t even notice?”

Lo’ak looks delighted with this news, and nudges at Neteyam. “Dude! Dad has no game!”

Jake shoots Lo’ak an irritated sort of look, his pride clearly somewhat stung, but his youngest son doesn’t even seem to notice. Lo’ak seems to be too busy reveling in the fact that his father isn’t as smooth as he thought; in fact, he looks far too pleased about this little revelation.

“I have loads of game.” Jake argues, turning to the rest of his family as though seeking backup. Neytiri looks down, visibly hiding a smirk, and says nothing at all. “Your um’ma is just a difficult woman to impress.”

You’re still gawking at him, bewildered by the turn of the conversation. You’ve been friends with Jake for a long time, and he’s always been playfully flirty – that’s just his character. He makes cheeky jokes, he’s touchy, he calls you teasing nicknames, he gives you affectionate little kisses. That’s just Jake! He’s always been like this! And yet right now, he sounds as though he’s being serious about his flirting. 

You look at Neytiri, still a little bewildered, but she has a wry sort of smile on her face as Jake defends himself. And that confuses you even more. Her hand is still on your thigh, her fingers stroking absently over the soft skin there. The caress is sure and unhurried; it’s a kind of patience possessed by predators who are sure of their prey. You’ve never experienced a touch like this from Neytiri before. Your skin is a little too tight, your breaths a little too shallow.

You feel like you’re losing your mind. It’s almost a relief when you’re interrupted, although you hardly even notice Ola’netu’s approaching figure until he’s stopped only a few feet from where you’re all sitting. 

It’s Neytiri that notices him first, as evidenced by the way her hand tightens around your thigh, but you soon feel Jake tense beneath you as well.

“Olo’eyktan,” Ola’netu greets, his head dipping as he greets Jake with the traditional greeting gesture. “I see you.”

Jake’s hands flex at your hips, but he offers Ola’netu a stiffly polite smile all the same. Foregoing any greeting of his own, Jake simply says, “What can I do for you?”

Ola’netu straightens, and his big golden eyes land squarely on you. It’s unnerving to be on the receiving end of his sharp gaze, and you swallow nervously as your cheeks flare red. It’s… a surprisingly bold move on his part, approaching you like this when you’re having dinner with the Sully’s. Jake has always been a little overprotective of you, on account of you being so much smaller and more fragile, and right now his brow is drawing into a scowl that’s honestly intimidating.

“I wish to speak to tawtute.” Ola’netu says. Though his tone is perfectly polite, the fact that he’s not actually looking at Jake is clearly making your friend antsy; he shifts under you, adjusting you on his lap, and holds you tight.

The silence that follows is awkward. You had been so blown away by the exciting strangeness of having messed around with Jake, and then the way that Neytiri had been caressing you, that you had forgotten about Ola’netu entirely.

At your side, Lo’ak straightens up from where he had been slouching lazily. He’s got a little frown on his face, though he’s clearly a little confused, and he looks so much like Jake in that moment that it’s a little bewildering. He leans in a bit closer to you where you’re sitting on Jake’s lap, and all of a sudden it’s like you have two Sully guard dogs with their ears pricked up.

“Yeah,” You say, suddenly awkward. “Right, of course.”

It’s a bit of a struggle to get out of Jake’s lap. Not only do you have his hands holding onto your waist, but Neytiri is holding your thigh and Lo’ak keeps shuffling closer into your space. You actually have to practically worm your way out of their grip, before you stand in front of them all panting with the effort. You scowl a little at Jake, and he purses his lips in that way he does when he’s annoyed about something before he offers you a quick shrug.

Ola’netu leads you a couple of steps away from the family, before stopping just out of earshot and turning to you with a smile. He even bends down so that he’s at eye level with you. The village is bustling full of life, and the sounds of the People laughing and children squealing fill the air. Despite the hive of activity around you, you’re hyper aware of the stares of the entire Sully family burning into your back.

Ola’netu must notice the fact that the two of you are being watched closely, but he gives no indication of it. “I am pleased to see you here. Can I get you food?”

“Oh,” You get a little flustered at his offer, trying hard not to look over your shoulder at the Sullys. “Um… I’ve already eaten.”

Ola’netu glances over your shoulder, presumably looking at Jake, before his eyes fall back to your face. It’s a little difficult to read him; there’s a friendly little smile on his face, but there’s a small furrow in his brow that suggests he’s confused.

“Jakesully watches you closely.” He notes, his tone careful. “He is… always looking.”

“Oh, he’s a little protective.” You laugh nervously. “Don’t mind him.”

Ola’netu’s eyes linger on your face a moment. There’s a beat of silence as nostrils flare; you’ve seen Jake do this often enough to realise that he’s scenting you. It’s an embarrassing thought, made even worse when his brows furrow. 

“Ah.” He says after a moment, his head tilting a little. He looks confused, as though he doesn’t quite know what to make of you. “He has scent-marked you. Neytiri too.”

Your hand flies up to hold your neck. “They what?”

Ola’netu hums, and reaches out to brush his fingers over the spot where Neytiri’s wrist had brushed earlier. Had that been an accident? Surely she would never have done such a thing on purpose.

He’s still watching your face closely. “I do not want to… misunderstand. You always smell of Jakesully but… they have not yet claimed you?”

You nearly do a double take. Claimed you? You don’t even know how to begin unpacking that. You wonder if there’s some sort of cultural nuance that you’re missing here. Your fluency in the Na’vi language is advanced, but even still you sometimes mistranslate or misunderstand things.

“Jake is my best friend.” You say with an awkward smile, hoping that answers his question. 

You think of the way Jake had stuffed your pussy full with his fingers the night before, and the way Neytiri had been so subtly brushing her fingers over your tits earlier that evening, and you wonder how on earth to explain your relationship with them. Not even you fully understand it. They’re your friends, but even you have to admit that it often feels like… more than that. They feel like home in a way that the human outpost never has, and yet you have to admit that the dynamic feels a little different now.

“They look after me.” You continue stupidly. It’s the only way you can think of to explain.

Ola’netu looks thoughtful, but he nods slowly. “I see. But they have not…” 

As Ola’netu trails off, his brow furrows in a contemplative frown. It seems as though he’s thinking about his next words very carefully. 

You dart a quick glance over your shoulder. It’s not much of a surprise to find Jake and Neytiri watching you closely (just like they had the last time Ola’netu had approached you), but it is somewhat of a surprise to see that the kids are all watching you with hawk-like eyes as well. You offer them an awkward, close-mouthed smile to try and ease the tension. The only one who returns it is Tuk, who throws in a cute little wave as well.

Finally, Ola’netu seems to find his words. “They have not yet mated with you, have they? I cannot… I cannot tell from your scent. You smell like Jakesully… but you always smell of him.”

Your mouth flaps open and closed moronically. Oh god. The bold line of questioning leaves you completely flustered. You hadn’t expected him to be so forthright about things, and you’re certainly not prepared to admit that you had let Jake finger you until you were limp and drooling in his arms only the night before.

“I… I don’t- I mean, no, they haven’t mated with me.” You say when you finally gather yourself enough to answer. “They’re- they’re mated with each other!”

That makes Ola’netu crack a smile, as though amused by your reaction. 

“It is not unusual for a mated pair to take on a third. Jake and Neytiri have not discussed this with you?” Ola’netu asks. When you shake your head, his big golden eyes dart over your shoulder towards where Jake and Neytiri are sitting behind you. “I had thought… they act as though…”

Ola’netu doesn’t finish that thought, though you wait for him to. The resulting silence is a little awkward, but then Ola’netu creeps forward a little. He doesn’t reach for you, though it looks as though he’s thinking about it.

You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, and scratch at your elbow. Now that you’re actually in front of Ola’netu, you feel incredibly awkward. You’ve been looking at the Na’vi in a rather hungry way for a while now, and yet now that you’re faced with a male who actually seems interested in you, all you can think about is the way Jake had touched you the night before.

It’s like the floodgates have opened inside your brain. You’ve been around Jake and Neytiri for years now, and yet now you feel shivery and bubbly with simmering arousal after experiencing their attention all evening. You wonder if there’s something wrong with you. 

This is your best friend and his wife! You feel like a weirdo for thinking about them like that. 

“You are interested in Na’vi?” Ola’netu’s tail lashes behind him as he watches you. 

You swallow thickly. Oh, you feel totally out of your depth now. You can feel the eyes of the Sullys boring into you as you speak with Ola’netu; you’re just grateful they can’t hear what you’re saying, because you don’t think you’d be able to live the embarrassment down.

“Um… Yeah.” You say faintly.

 Your brain decides unhelpfully to offer up memories of Jake’s big hands and pretty blue skin from the night before, and the ridiculous size of his dick. Jake may have only touched you like that so that you could experience being with a Na’vi for the first time, but you think he may also have unintentionally ruined you for anyone else. Your mind just keeps replaying the encounter in your head like it’s a damn slideshow.

“But… you do not accept Jakesully and Neytiri?” Ola’netu speaks slowly, as though approaching a sensitive topic.

All you can do is blink, wondering if you’re misunderstanding what he’s asking you. It sounds as though he thinks that you’re the one making the final decision here, as though you’re the one with the power. The thought is comical.

“I’m not sure I…” You trail off, bewildered. “What do you mean ‘accept’ them?” 

“As mates. They seem to be waiting for your decision.” Ola’netu murmurs, his eyes darting back over your shoulder towards when Jake and Neytiri are no doubt still watching. “But you must be a difficult creature to impress.”

That’s so similar to what Jake had said earlier that you find yourself floundering. That couldn’t have been what Jake had meant though, surely? You feel as though you’ve been struck dumb – the connotations of what Ola’netu is suggesting is almost more than you can handle, and yet he keeps on talking before you can actually wrap your head around it.

“Perhaps it is that you are not ready to take on a mate?” Ola’netu says, his big golden eyes peering into your face. It seems as though he’s having difficulty assessing your thoughts thanks to your alien human features. “I, too, am not ready for a mate. But if it is exploring you are interested in–”

You’re hardly listening to a word he says. You think back rather frantically to every reaction you’ve had with Jake and Neytiri for the past several years. It’s true that you’ve always been close, probably closer than any other relationship you’ve ever had in your life. 

You spend almost all of your time with them when you’re not at the human outpost, you sleep in their bed when you stay over with them, their children call you um’ma. And that’s not to mention the tactile nature of your relationship with Jake. But that’s how Jake has always been, even when he was human!

Okay… maybe you can see where Ola’netu’s coming from with his assumptions. 

“Wait,” You choke out, interrupting whatever the hell Ola’netu had been saying. “Hang on, are you… are you saying that everyone thinks that I’m– that Jake and Neytiri are–” You can’t even figure out how to put your thoughts into words. You end up just standing there, gawping at Ola’netu like an idiot as your brain tries to sort all of this out.

Ola’netu frowns, tilting his head in honest confusion. “I had thought that you were mated for many years. But maybe they are just courting you?”

You positively goggle at him, struck dumb. You don’t think you could form a reply even if you wanted to. 

It should be a ridiculous notion. Jake has been your friend for years! Sure, you might be closer than most friends, but that’s just how you two have always been. And Neytiri has become your friend too, treating you like family and even welcoming you into her and Jake’s bed whenever you happen to stay the night. If Ola’netu had told you this a week ago, you might have even laughed at his questions. But now, after your experimentation with Jake and all of his and Neytiri’s suggestive touches and comments today, you find yourself baffled. 

You never get the chance to respond. Footsteps sound from behind you, and Ola’netu’s eyes flicker above your head as a warm body presses close to your back. You glance over your shoulder, expecting to see Jake – you’re surprised to find that it’s Neytiri who’s standing at your back, watching Ola’netu with sharp eyes.

“Come,” Neytiri murmurs to you, but her eyes remain fixed on Ola’netu. “You have not finished eating.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring up at her. You wonder if you’re losing your mind – Neytiri is so beautiful, her features sharp and bold and her golden eyes intense as she stares down Ola’netu. There’s an awkward silence, but then you start to nod.

“I’ll, um… see you later.” You say to Ola’netu, but your heart’s not in it. You’re distracted, sending uncertain glances up at Neytiri. Ola’netu nods and raises a hand to wave, but you’re already stepping after Neytiri as she leads you back towards the family with a large slender hand pressed between your shoulderblades.

Jake is sitting on the log where you left him, but he’s leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he watches you return with Neytiri. He’s frowning, his ears twitching; he looks strangely alert, although some of the stiffness in his shoulders eases as you and Neytiri join him again. The kids are all gathered nearby, and you can see them exchanging looks with each other in a little silent conversation.

You feel embarrassed that they all just witnessed you chatting with Ola’netu, but you try to shake it off. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, after all, and it’s not like they heard you.

“What was that all about, sweetheart?” Jake asks when you get close enough, already reaching out to try and pull you into his lap.

But for the first time, possibly ever, you resist. You pull your arm back, refusing to go, and Jake blinks at you in bewilderment. You feel sort of guilty, but your head is spinning so fast that you feel dizzy – you need space, and time to think and sort out all of these bizarre thoughts and revelations.

“I’m… I’m going to head to bed, I think.” You blurt, taking a step back. 

Hurt flashes across Jake’s face, and he sits up straighter. In all your years of knowing each other, you’ve never pushed Jake away like this.

“You are not staying with us tonight?” Neytiri asks with a discontented frown. She sits down next to Jake on the log, and you think you see her nudge him hard in the side.

You shake your head, swallowing thickly. Normally, you’d be only too delighted to spend the night, but everything has happened so fast and you need time to think.

“No, I’ll just… I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You murmur, forcing a smile as you step back. 

Your expression can’t be very convincing, because the kids exchange another look before turning to look at their parents. Lo’ak stands, looking between his parents before turning to look at you.

“I’ll walk you back, um’ma–” He starts to say, but he’s cut off when Neytiri grabs his shoulder and pulls him back down.

Jake stands instead, and rests his hand on your shoulder. “I’ll walk you back.” He says, squeezing lightly.

You can’t bring yourself to refuse the offer — the forests of Pandora are deadly for a human alone, and you can’t afford to go without an escort. You bite your lip, before nodding jerkily. This is fine. Jake is just looking out for you as a friend, like he always is. You’re the one that’s acting weird! You need to pull yourself together.

The walk home is awkwardly silent. You’re lost in your thoughts, replaying every interaction you’ve had this evening and picking them apart obsessively in your head. Meanwhile, Jake ambles along at your side, matching your pace perfectly. He’s equally as quiet, but he keeps darting looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. Jake is many things, but he’s never been subtle.

By the time you reach the outpost, hardly a word has been shared between the two of you. Jake has started tapping his fingers against his thigh, and the frequency of his glances have increased yet again. He clears his throat, and finally speaks up.

“So, uh… did you enjoy dinner, honey?” He asks. The levity in his voice is rather forced, and it contrasts with the little frown creasing his forehead.

You hum, but you’re distracted. “Mm, sure. It was fine.”

Jake bites at his lip for a second, obviously thinking. His nose twitches, nostrils flaring. He leans a little closer, and you can see his pretty golden eyes dart to your neck.

“Did he touch you there?” Jaks asks. A scowl creases his brow as he reaches out to brush his fingers over your throat, right where Ola’netu had touched where Neytiri had scented.

You jerk back, and then it’s like the floodgates open. You’re unable to keep your thoughts to yourself any longer.

“What the fuck is going on, Jake?” You blurt, eyes wide and bewildered as you take a step back. “I don’t– I’m so confused. Last night was– but then today! You were so– and then Neytiri as well! I don’t understand, and then Ola’netu said– but I don’t get it–”

Jake’s expression drops, all pretence at cheerfulness abandoned. He takes a knee instantly to put himself down at your level, his eyes wide and a little panicked.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, sweetheart. What’s the problem? Deep breath.” He says, his voice low and soothing as he tries to shush you. He reaches out and puts his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs stroking delicately over your skin.

You push his hands away, still reeling. “Ola’netu thought we were mates. As in, you, Neytiri, and me.”

You wait for a moment, and allow that to sink in. You’re not entirely certain what you’re expecting his reaction to be; will he laugh at that ridiculous notion? Will he be horrified? Disgusted? 

But instead, Jake’s face wobbles, as though he can’t hide his expression fast enough.

“He… and yet he was trying to put moves on you anyway?” He says, his nose scrunching in distaste as his fangs glint in the moonlight.

You gape at him. Jake misses the point so damn often it’s like he does it on purpose, but the fact that he doesn’t see that you’re being serious about this infuriates you.

“Jake!” You hiss, fists clenching at your side. “You’re not even listening–!”

“I’m listening, I’m listening–” Jake throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“You said that you’d help me– or, or that you’d help me experience Na’vi… um, bodies, and it was… it was really good, but– I thought that– I don’t know, I just– you said that you were going to guide me through it before I went messing around with other Na’vi–”

Jake’s ears have folded back against the side of his head, and he listens to you with a frown. “I didn’t think you’d actually want to mess around with other Na’vi after I took care of you–”

“Oh what, you think your dick is just that good?” You fold your arms across your chest immediately, scowling. 

Jake pauses for a moment, and you see his mouth begin to twitch into a smile. Your temper flares, and you glare furiously at him.

“Don’t you dare.” You warn, already knowing that he has some smart remark planned.

Jake breathes a soft laugh, but then hastily wipes his expression clean when he catches sight of the glint in your eye. He sighs, and reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. He looks a little ridiculous kneeling in the dirt and bending over so that he’s on your level, his expression open and conciliatory.

“Honey, I don’t understand what’s wrong–”

“Stop calling me honey!”

Jake gapes at you. You’ve never shouted at him like that; in all the years you’ve known each other, you’ve never gotten so mad at him that you’d yell, and you’ve never once told him to not call you by his cutesy nicknames. For the first time, Jake seems to actually realise that you’re in turmoil over here.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He says, and his voice has lost all trace of levity and humour. His expression is serious now, as though he’s dedicating his full attention to solving this problem.

You groan, reaching up to scrub at your face. You can barely even sort through your own thoughts in your head, you have no idea how to effectively go about communicating your feelings here. Throwing delicacy to the wind, you take a deep breath.

“I think I have a crush on you!” You yell close to hysterics. “And it’s ruining my life! I mean, fuck! I’m ruining everything just cause I can’t control myself–”

Jake’s ears twitch and his tail lashes wildly, as though he momentarily loses control of his extremities. His eyes go big and round, and you wonder if this is it – have you fucked everything up? 

You had such a good thing going with the Sully family, and the thought of you ruining it just because you got flustered over Jake and Neytiri touching you in a way that was probably meant to be friendly anyway makes you feel ill.

“Baby, come on. We’re practically married anyway, a crush is a good thing.” Jake says, reaching out to take a hold of your elbows. He shuffles closer on his knees, his back bowing as he ducks down to look you in the face. 

His expression is open and earnest, and there’s a faint trace of urgency in his eyes as he watches your reaction, and yet you find yourself rearing back and searching his face desperately for any hint of a lie.

“What do you–” You start to say uncertainly, but Jake keeps going before you can finish.

“The kids call you um’ma, you sleep in our bed, you do everything with us. You’re– I mean, we’re crazy for you. Can’t you see that?” Jake’s forehead is all creased up as he tries to keep your attention on him. “We’ve– we’ve been together for years–”

“What?” You blurt, bewildered. “We– no. We’ve been friends. You called me your best friend last night even when you had your goddamn face between my legs–”

“We always call each other that! It’s like… it’s like a bit or something–” He looks helplessly confused. “When you talked about Ola’netu I thought you were just curious, or that you just wanted to experiment or something–”

“Why would you not tell me!” You shriek, throwing your hands up in the air. You feel like an absolute madwoman, and Jake is regarding you like you’re something fragile about to shatter. “Oh my god– so, you and Neytiri have been married for years, and the whole time everyone has thought that I’m just some sad loser that follows the two of you everywhere–”

“No!” Jake says, and now he’s raising his voice too. “No, that’s not what I meant! I meant that you’ve been part of our family this whole time. You must have known that–”

Oh god, you’re getting overwhelmed. Confused and embarrassed tears begin pricking at your eyes, and Jake’s entire face drops when he realises that you’re about to cry.

“How would I have known that, Jake?!” You’re shouting loud enough that you’re certain the scientists inside the outpost can hear you, but mercifully no one comes to check what’s going on. “You’ve never said anything! The only time you’ve ever touched me in a way that suggests we’re more than friends is last night–!”

“It never occurred to me to say anything!” He’s clearly fighting not to raise his voice, trying to keep calm and composed. “I didn’t realise that you didn’t– baby, I have plenty of friends. How many of them spend the night in our bed, or sit on my lap? How many of them do I kiss–”

“I don’t know! You’re a friendly guy!” You yell back, painfully aware of how stupid you sound right now. “But– it doesn’t matter how touchy you were, you never actually did anything! And yet now you expect me to believe that you really wanted me all this time–”

“I didn’t think you were interested!” Jake bursts out. “You never talked about sex, not until last night! I’ve been hinting for years, I just thought that you weren’t into sex or intimacy that way– which is fine by the way, me and Neytiri never minded that, you know that we’d take you anyway we could have you–”

“I’m only human, Jake! I have– I have needs!” Your cheeks are absolutely burning, but you manage to hold eye contact with him. “I mean, you never said anything! So I’ve been sitting lonely in the human outpost while you and Neytiri have been having babies–”

“You–” Jake’s ears flick desperately, “You want a baby?”

“NO!” You yell, flustered and frustrated.

“What?” Jake breathes to himself so quietly that you nearly miss it. He shakes his head quickly, as though trying to clear his head. “Okay, okay, I screwed up, obviously. I should have been more upfront, I should have talked things through with you, I shouldn’t have just assumed we were all on the same page, I get that. But honey, you’ve always been a huge part of our family, we’ve been bringing you gifts of jewelry and clothes and food for years–”

Fuck, you feel so mixed up and confused. You run your hands frustratedly over your face, already shaking your head. Jake is getting steadily more frantic as he talks, clearly seeing that you’re beginning to withdraw. 

He tries to take your hand but you step back, chewing at your lip.

“Stop. Jake, stop for a minute.” You groan, turning away from him so that you can breathe for a moment. Your breath rasps through your mask, and abruptly you feel incredibly claustrophobic. 

You can’t wrap your head around any of this. Truthfully, you had been perfectly content with your life on Pandora up until a few weeks ago. Jake had satisfied your skin hunger with his caresses and cuddles, Neytiri had always made you feel welcomed around the village by providing you with pretty Omaticaya style clothes and jewelry, and you’ve always been so close to the children that you never craved any of your own. The fact that you had gone so long without any sexual intimacy is surely a testament to how happy you were with the way things were, and yet now you find your head spinning. 

Does this mean that you could have had more this whole time? That all those months of craving sexual intimacy, of your growing interest in Na’vi biology, was entirely useless because you had two enormous sexy Na’vi who loved and cared for you very much just sitting right there the whole time thinking that you weren’t interested in sex? What the fuck?

“I can’t do this right now.” You whisper. You’re breathing heavily, as though all of your overthinking is taking an actual physical toll on you. “I have to– I can’t. I have to go.”

Jake’s expression drops entirely, and he pushes himself to stand, already reaching out after you. “Hang on, please. Look, kid, why don’t you just come back home, huh? We can talk things out properly, all three of us–”

You shake your head as you step backwards towards the outpost door. You probably should talk this out, but you just can’t right now. You need to get this mask off, and you need time to think to yourself about all of this and what it means for your relationships going forward.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake.” You whisper.

You don’t let yourself listen to the way he calls your name as you escape into the outpost; you already know that if you see the look on his face, you’ll crumble.

The heavy door swings shut behind you, the hiss of the hydraulics drowning out the last of Jake’s pleas. You’re finally alone for the evening, but for a very long moment you can’t move at all. You just stay leaning against the heavy door as the oxygenation chamber begins to work, finally allowing you to tear your mask off and toss it to the floor. 

You take deep, heavy breaths, before hiding your head in your hands. You can’t help but feel as though you’ve handled that rather poorly.

For the next several days, you don’t leave the outpost once. Ostensibly, you’re helping Norm with his research. In reality, you’re likely just getting underfoot and annoying all the other scientists that are actually trying to do work.

It’s cowardly and immature, but you just don’t think you can face Jake or Neytiri right now. You can’t stop thinking of the looks and whispers that the two of them had exchanged when you had talked about possibly being interested in Na’vi men and mating. You’re so damn embarrassed, and you feel like a total idiot.

And yet at the same time, you feel so prickly and irritated. After so many years of friendship, how ridiculous is it that they didn’t speak to you about this? Your irritation bleeds over into your mood as you sit around the base, and soon enough everyone else in the outpost starts to avoid you as best they can.

Three days may not seem like an extraordinarily long time to avoid your friends, but it’s the longest you’ve gone without seeing them in… well, possibly ever.

Jake knows you well enough to know that you need space to think things over, which probably accounts for the fact that he hasn’t yet shown up to bust your door down. But while Jake may be giving you space, no one seems to have given that memo to Lo’ak.

“Whatever dad did, I’m sure he’s sorry.” Lo’ak blurts on the afternoon of your third day of self-imposed exile.

The two of you are sprawled out on one of the couches in the meagre corner that Max has attempted to turn into a recreation area – the couch Lo’ak is laying across was originally designed for Avatar bodies, and he spends enough time in the outpost that he looks perfectly at home here with a CO2 respirator hanging around his neck for him to sip at the air.

You sigh, avoiding his eyes. You know you’re not meant to have favourites among the children, but you’ve always had a mushy little soft spot for Lo’ak. He’s always so hungry for recognition and validation, and yet he can be so damn sweet. It’s no surprise that he’s the one that’s skipping his duties in the clan just to hang out with you at the outpost because he’s worried about you.

“Your dad didn’t do anything, Lo’ak.” You murmur, though you’re still having a hard time looking at him.

Lo’ak’s brow puckers. “... Mom, then?”

“No!” You say quickly, before taking a deep breath and continuing in a calmer tone of voice. “No, it’s not– look, it’s just… sometimes, grown-ups just need some time apart to think, that’s all.”

Lo’ak is quiet for a moment. He’s staring down into his lap, his brow drawn together moodily as he fidgets with his thumbs. He’s obviously thinking hard, lost in his thoughts, though you couldn’t begin to guess what it is he’s thinking about.

Lo’ak is more like his mother than anyone gives him credit for; just like Neytiri, he does a poor job keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself for too long.

“Spider said that Norm told him about a human thing called divorce.” He bursts out, finally raising his head to look at you. For the first time, you see the glimmer of panic in his eyes. “Are you– you’re not doing that, right?”

You rear back, struggling to hide your shock from him. Oh god, now the guilt is starting to set in. In all your panic and embarrassment, you hadn’t really considered what the kids must have thought about all this. 

Lo’ak’s ears are pressed flat against the side of his head and his tail is coiled tightly against his body, giving you an insight into how vulnerable he’s feeling right now.

“Oh, no, kiddo!” You blurt, sitting up on the couch and leaning over to place a hand on your shoulder. “It’s not… It’s not like that.”

Lo’ak’s eyes are suspiciously glassy, and he immediately shuffles over to hide his face in your shoulder. The hug is a little awkward; he’s not nearly as small as he used to be as a small child, but he’s still trying his best to curl his much larger body into your chest. It’s like cuddling a golden retriever that doesn’t realise how large it is.

“Mom and dad have been arguing since you left.” He mumbles into your shoulder. “Whatever they did to make you mad, they’re sorry about it.”

Your heart aches, and you close your eyes and sigh as you kiss his forehead. Damn, now you really feel like an asshole. You never expected this to impact Jake and Neytiri’s relationship at home, and to hear that they’re actually in conflict comes as a surprise to you. They’re usually a united front, so to hear that there’s cracks in that front because of you is somewhat jarring.

“... What are they arguing about?” You murmur, feeling a little guilty for prying.

Lo’ak shrugs, as though the way his parents think is utterly mystifying to his brain. “Mom thinks dad fucked up somehow, I dunno.”

He darts a quick look up at your face as though trying to check whether he’s going to get scolded for cursing, but you hardly notice. You’re too busy thinking. You can’t help but wonder exactly how Jake had recounted your little conversation to Neytiri, and you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of what she must have had to say about it. They probably both think you’re a total moron.

You sigh through your nose and pet Lo’ak’s braids absently. He seems happy to burrow close as you think, relaxing into your arms as though he’s not comically large for a fourteen year old. 

Truthfully, you wonder if you’re overthinking this. Because if you’re being honest with yourself, the thought that Jake and Neytiri think of you romantically sends a thrill of excitement so pure running through you that it feels as though it’s going to knock you off your feet. 

You’ve spent so long moping about being alone that you didn’t even realise that you have two big sexy Na’vi sitting there interested in you but thinking that you weren’t interested in sex? Fuck, how could you have misassessed the situation like that?

“Hey, um’ma?” Lo’ak mumbles, his voice all muffled by your shirt.

“Yeah?”

There’s a pause. Then Lo’ak says, “Ola’netu’s a loser.”

“Lo’ak!” You scold, swatting at his head. 

“It’s true!” Lo’ak complains. Your light smack to his head is so inconsequential that he doesn’t even bother moving his head out of the way, choosing instead to shuffle even closer until he’s practically crushing you.

“It’s rude to call people losers.” You sigh.

Lo’ak just grumbles. “Not when they’re trying to steal one of your moms.”

“That’s not–” You start, before falling silent. Na’vi mating practices and culture still throws you for a loop sometimes, but to hear Lo’ak say that he considers you a mom leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. You had known he viewed you as some kind of role model figure based on how he used to follow along behind your ankles as a young child, but to hear him come out and say it is something entirely different.

“Aw.” You whisper, unable to help it as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight. “You’re so sweet, aren’tcha?”

Despite the fact that Lo’ak was literally just burrowing his way into your side, he starts rolling his eyes and leaning away. “Um’ma, quit it!”

You’re still laughing when you hear the sound of a door opening somewhere behind you, and you don’t even bother looking around. It’s Lo’ak who looks over your shoulder instead, and his face goes slack in surprise as his mouth drops open.

“Mom!” Lo’ak says, pushing himself up onto his knees on the couch so he can stare wide-eyed behind you.

You whip around at that, and feel your heart actually skip a beat at the sight of Neytiri picking her way through the narrow walkway of the outpost. You’re certain that your own expression matches Lo’ak’s surprised bewilderment perfectly. 

Neytiri has never visited the human outpost before; she mostly tolerates the presence of the humans living beyond the boundary of the Omaticaya village, and is understandably wary of most of them. The sight of her walking towards you as she fiddles with the respirator around her neck is surreal.

Your stomach trembles at the sight of her. You’re not sure you’re ready to have this conversation with her, but you already know there’s no escape. If there’s anyone that can match Jake in pure hard-headed stubbornness, it’s Neytiri.

“Lo’ak,” Neytiri murmurs as she approaches. “Go home. Your father wants you to go foraging with Kiri.”

Lo’ak groans loudly, and Neytiri shoots him a look so sharp that it practically cuts. He gets the message almost immediately, and obviously decides it’s in his best interest not to argue any further. He stands up off the couch and skulks off, though he glances over his shoulder at you before he rounds the corner.

“See you at dinner, um’ma?” He calls, his eyes gone soft and hopeful.

You hesitate, glancing nervously at Neytiri. “Uh… I’m not sure.” You say non-committedly, smiling weakly. 

Lo’ak frowns, stopping dead-still as his ears pin back. “Um’ma, please.”

Ah fuck, you never could deny that kid anything. You sigh, reaching up to rub at the space between your eyes. “Right. Yeah, okay. See you later, Lo’ak.”

As soon as Lo’ak disappears around the corner, Neytiri steps towards you. Flustered, you stand up to meet her as she stops just short of the couch. She’s watching you closely, her honey-coloured eyes tracking over every inch of you. 

You’re so thrown by the fact that she’s actually here, in front of you, in the human outpost, that you barely even know what to say to her. 

“Um… hey.” You say stupidly.

Thankfully, Neytiri decides to ignore your weak little greeting. 

“I wish to talk, tawtute.” Her voice is soft, as though she’s trying not to scare you away.

Right. Of course she does. Your eyes dart around the little rec area, all shifty. Towards the back of the open space of the outpost, you can see some of the scientists sending you curious looks. You can’t really blame them; while the Sully kids are regular visitors around here, the sight of Neytiri must be rather startling.

“We can talk in my room.” You mutter, stepping back and hurriedly leading the way towards privacy.

Neytiri follows along silently, though her attention is mostly taken up with looking around the building curiously. You usher her into your room quickly, your heart rate already picking up nervously.

It’s more than a little unnerving to watch Neytiri’s tall, willowy figure stepping into your cramped, windowless room. She looks so out of place amongst the clutter of your stuff, and yet she steps forward and sinks down to perch herself on the edge of your bed as though she belongs there.

You barely manage to stifle a squeak at the sight of her sitting right where Jake had sat only a few nights earlier, right before he had fingered you within an inch of your life. She’s watching you as though she knows what you’re thinking, and you feel your face grow warm under her regard.

“Jake said that you needed space,” She murmurs, breaking the expectant silence that had settled over the two of you. “And I trust him with many things. But he has already made a mess of this, hasn’t he?”

You swallow thickly, fidgeting with your fingers. You can’t help but feel guilty; it was you that had made a mess of this by hiding yourself away like this and refusing to face them after your obvious misunderstanding. 

“I’m sorry.” You say stiffly. “I didn’t mean to… well. I just needed time to think.”

Neytiri hums, though she doesn’t appear too convinced. “Jake tells me that you did not realise how we valued you as a mate.”

She says it as though she thinks it’s ridiculous, which certainly doesn’t help things. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she watches you. Her delicate little chest covering sways forward, and it takes everything in you not to stare at her tits.

“Why would you wish to mate with someone you cannot connect with?” You ask, your voice quiet. 

It’s probably not fair to throw Neytiri’s own words back at her from the conversation you had had about Ola’netu on the first night of mating season, but you get a twisted sense of satisfaction from the way her expression cracks into surprise. She looks taken aback, her ears flattening. 

“That was not what I meant.” She protests, her brow creasing into a frown.

“You were asking me to find “release” with the other humans!” You burst out. It might not be fair to get frustrated at her like this, but all of these thoughts have been brewing since your little argument with Jake and you finally get the chance to express them.

Neytiri’s tail lashes, revealing her own restlessness. 

“You never approached us for…” She trails off, then takes a breath. “I assumed that you were seeking pleasure from your kind. It is like I said; sex is a way for bonding in mated pairs as well as outside of them.”

You blink at her, bewildered. You had thought that she was just making a sweeping statement about Na’vi sexuality. It hadn’t occurred to you that she had been telling you this because she was including you in the mated subsection of the population.

“Jake thought that you were not interested in sexual intimacy at all, because you never mentioned anything to him.” Neytiri says. “But I had thought that you just preferred intimacy with your own kind. And that would be fine, tawtute. There is much diversity among Na’vi mating bonds, and there is almost no mating bonds between Na’vi and Sky People. We are learning as we go.”

She’s doing the same thing that Jake had done; keeping her voice carefully low as though trying not to upset you. You’re a little torn; you can’t decide whether it’s sweet or aggravating that they treat you like you’re something delicate that needs to be protected. You decide to settle on aggravated, even as she keeps talking.

“There are other forms of intimacy; sitting in laps, grooming, cooking for each other, sleeping in shared spaces, spending quality time together. We do all of this, syulang.”

“If you aren’t interested in having sex with me, just say that.” You say, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. You know that you sound like a little brat right now, but you can’t help it. “You don’t have to come up with all these different excuses.”

Neytiri’s eyes widen, her hairless brows raising.

“We did not think we were–” Neytiri struggles for a moment to find the right word. “Compatible. Sexually. We are too big, tawtute, we could have hurt you.”

“But you never even tried.” You say stubbornly, a frown creeping onto your face. “Jake wasn’t too big when he fingered me the other night.”

You might be stretching the truth a little there, because Jake has fat-ass fingers that had stretched you until you had been an actual sobbing mess, but you’re trying to make a point here.

Neytiri reaches up and presses her fingers against her mouth, and it takes you a moment to realise that she’s trying hard not to laugh. 

“If you wanted to be touched, all you had to do was ask.” She murmurs, before reaching her other hand out towards you.

You hesitate for a moment. You’re not sure if you’re ready to let go of your annoyance so easily, but you step towards Neytiri all the same. Her tail is twitching, a clear sign of her anticipation. As soon as you get within arm’s reach, she takes you by the arms and pulls you right up into her lap.

You squeak, flustered at the sudden movement. It’s not like it’s strange for you to be hauled into a Na’vi’s lap, but it’s never been Neytiri’s lap before. You grab onto her shoulders without thinking to try and steady yourself, and out of the corner of your eye you see a pleased smile playing about her lips.

“What did you think of Jake?” She asks, her voice low. Her long, slender hands wrap around your hips to keep you in place across her thighs.

“Um…” Your brain has stalled a bit, completely distracted by the way your own thighs are spread wide so that you’re straddling her hips. 

Neytiri’s tiny little smile is knowing, as if she knows that your cunt is growing wet and hot just from the feeling of your thighs being stretched wide over hers. Even more distracting is the way her long fingers are tracing over the exposed skin of your thighs where your dress has ridden up over your hips. 

“You wanted to experience Na’vi bodies, hm?” She murmurs, her fingers pushing higher as she traces little circles over your hips. “What did you think of Jake’s?”

“It was– he was… great.” You sound like an absolute idiot, and you feel like one as well. It’s like your brain is actually grinding to a halt, as though every ounce of your awareness is narrowing down to the points of contact between you and Neytiri. 

Neytiri hums, her eyes dropping down over your own body and lingering. She’s clearly curious about your cotton dress – you almost exclusively wear your Omaticayan style beaded top and loincloth when you’re in the village, and Neytiri hasn’t actually seen you wearing your own human clothes in years. She tugs at the back of it with a tiny frown.

“Good.” She murmurs, her fingers tangling in the soft fabric of your dress. “But just as you were unfamiliar with Na’vi bodies, I have never experienced the body of a Sky Person.”

You take a sharp breath. You’ve clearly been painfully oblivious of any signals that Jake and Neytiri may have been sending you over the years, and you’re not prepared to miss out on anything else just because you’re not willing to take a risk.

“D’you want to?” You ask in a whisper. It comes out more breathless that you had intended, your excitement causing your lungs to squeeze tight.

Neytiri’s smile widens, the delicate skin around her eyes creasing right before she leans in and presses a full-mouthed kiss to your mouth. 

It’s messier and more heated than you had expected from her, and you moan without meaning to when her sharp canines tug at your lower lip. Neytiri kisses like she's got something to prove — her mouth is firm and unyielding against yours, and her teeth nip lightly at your lips in a way that sends a shiver rippling down your spine. 

As you gasp into her mouth, her hands grip at your waist and haul you closer to her until your chests are pressed tight together, your thighs spread wide around her hips as she pulls you tight to her.

You whimper against her, unable to help yourself, and then to your immense disappointment she pulls back. Her mouth is wet and swollen, but she looks so pretty when she grins at you. When she tugs at your dress again, you pick up on her unspoken request and immediately begin tugging your dress over your head.

You’re left in just your bra and panties, but you’re not given a moment to feel self-conscious. Neytiri’s big golden eyes are taking you in hungrily, but despite that hunger there’s also a gleam of curiosity in her eyes. When you unclasp your bra and let it fall to the side, her eyes land on your breasts as though you’ve just unwrapped a gift for her.

She reaches for your tits immediately, and her big hands practically swallow them whole. You’re reminded of the way she had brushed her hands against your tits when she had fixed your top in a way that was almost casual, but in hindsight was unmistakably erotic.

“Ah,” Neytiri murmurs, sounding almost surprised as her hands close around your tits. “They are softer than I expected.”

“Are they?” You breathe a little dazedly. 

She hums, and you bite back another squeak when she reaches up and pulls off her pretty chest covering. You’ve seen Neytiri’s breasts before, of course; the Na’vi are not modest about their bodies, and those beaded tops the women wear are mostly just for accessory. 

But seeing is different to touching, and your breath catches when she takes your wrist and guides your hand to one of her tits.

Neytiri’s breasts are small, in proportion to the rest of her tall svelte body, but they’re firmer than you had expected. It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, you suppose – the muscle structure of the Na’vi is insane, and there’s almost zero softness to them. Neytiri’s breasts are probably the most pliable part of her whole body, but even still the flesh doesn’t yield as much as you might have expected. You can certainly understand why Neytiri is so fascinated by the cushiony softness of your own chest.

Neytiri lets out a small, pleased sound when your thumb rolls over her nipple, and she lifts her CO2 respirator to take a quick sip of air before dropping it and clasping your jaw with one hand. She pulls you into another kiss, and you sigh happily as her tongue slides against yours. The size difference means that the kiss is a little awkward, but her enthusiasm makes up for that.

It feels like the world is spinning, and you let out a soft noise of surprise when her teeth sink into your lower lip. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but the sensation has you shivering in her lap. You almost whine when she breaks away from you, but she just starts to trail kisses down your neck and across your chest.

“Oh, fuck.” You breathe, your whole body jolting when she bites at the curve of your breast. It stings, and you look down at yourself to find a reddened bite mark at the top of your tit, right where it starts to swell.

“So soft and pretty, syulang.” Neytiri mumbles, sucking a bruise on the top of your other tit. 

She’s the oddest mix of rough and gentle with you; she’s obviously very conscious of how much bigger and stronger she is, because she’s holding you like you’re made of glass. But even as she strokes her thumbs over your hipbones, her hot, hungry mouth nips and kisses at your sensitive skin and leaves purpling bruises behind. 

When her mouth actually closes around your nipple, you let out an absolutely mortifying sound of confusion mixed with arousal. She can fit so much of your breast in her mouth that when she actually suckles on it, your eyes practically roll back at the stimulation.

“God,” You whimper, your hips twitching against her lap. The lace of your panties drags over the soft buttery fabric of her loincloth, and the friction against your clit leaves you shivery. “Neytiri, will you please– can you–?”

Neytiri hums, reluctantly releasing your tit from the wet heat of her mouth. You shiver as the cool air of the room hits the spit-slick skin of your breasts, but Neytiri quickly places her hand over the spot she had been sucking, warming your skin as she squeezes lightly.

“So eager, tawtute.” She coos, smiling at you like she thinks that you’re just adorable. She reaches her much larger hand into your panties, her long slender fingers sliding through the slick folds of your pussy with ease.

You groan like you’ve just been punched, and drop your head down against her shoulder. Her thumb rolls over your clit and your hips jump, grinding in her lap. She chuckles at your reaction, and watches your face closely as she presses one of her fingers inside of you. While a single one of her fingers is much larger than yours, it’s still smaller than Jake’s and you find yourself wanting more.

“Another one.” You beg, already humping your hips into her hand.

Neytiri laughs softly, but does as you ask all the same. The second finger is a definite stretch, but you’re so aroused already that it only stings for a moment before your body adjusts, squeezing tight around her.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” She whispers, ducking her face back down to your chest even as she fingers you.

Oh god, she’s bitey. The wet heat of her mouth leaves trails of stinging bruises across your tender chest and shoulders, which she then soothes over with her large, catlike tongue. There’s going to be no covering the marks she’s leaving behind, but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

You’d likely let her do anything to you right now; you feel overheated and shivery, and you can’t stop your chest from heaving as you rut your hips into her fingers, moaning as the heel of her hand grinds into your clit. Her hand is much too big to fit properly in your panties, but you’re far past the point of caring if she stretches the fabric out.

The only thing that could actually bring you out of the sweaty, horny haze you’ve found yourself in is the sound of your bedroom door opening, and you freeze in Neytiri’s lap with your breathing embarrassingly loud in the silence. 

For a wildly horrifying moment, you think that Lo’ak had returned for something, and you think about just dropping dead on the spot.

But then you look reluctantly over your shoulder, and you see Jake’s big body standing hunched in your doorway, and you want to drop dead for an entirely different reason. 

Jake is looking between you and Neytiri with wide golden eyes, his eyebrows raised so high that his whole forehead is creased. His stare lingers on your bare chest, then on Neytiri’s, and then drops down to where Neytiri’s hand is stuffed down the front of your panties.

“Oh shit.” Jake breathes once he manages to get over his surprise. His expression brightens and he hastily shuts the door behind himself, shuffling quickly over to your bed to join you and Neytiri.

The little room you had claimed as a bedroom is far from large, but it feels even smaller now that you have both Jake and Neytiri’s nine-feet-tall big ass bodies joining you on your miserable, rickety little bed.

“I guess that your little chat went well, huh?” Jake murmurs, a shit-eating grin on his face as he settles next to Neytiri, leaning in close so that his hungry eyes can rove over your almost naked body.

Neytiri hums, though she hardly even looks up at her husband. She’s too busy nuzzling little kisses into your throat, pulling helpless little gasps out of your mouth every time her lips close over your sensitive skin. Her hand doesn’t stop moving either, and you feel like you’re going weak in her lap every time the thick pad of her thumb rolls over the little bead of your clit.

“You handled things badly, ma Jake. I told you I would sort it.” She says, and you can feel her lips curving into a smile against your throat.

Jake just snickers, and you can feel the warm weight of his palm land on your back. He strokes over the bare length of your spine, and then you feel his fingers tug playfully at the back of your panties. He purposefully tugs the lace fabric so that it’s wedged uncomfortably between your asscheeks, and you let out a soft yowl of complaint before half-turning and slapping at his hands.

“Ah fuck, you’re wearing your sexy panties, huh?” Jake’s laugh is a little hoarse as he tugs at your underwear.

Neytiri hisses at him in aggravation when his messing about leads to her hand being forced out of your panties, but Jake just grins. The two of them are so fucking big, they’re practically looming over you right now. Even perched in Neytiri’s lap, you feel tiny in between them.

“The fabric means something?” Neytiri asks, her attention now caught on your red lacy panties.

“Oh yeah.” Jake mutters, his chest pressing up against your bare back, which consequently pushes your breasts against Neytiri’s. “Why don’t you tell her what your panties mean, honey?”

“Jake.” You complain, though it comes out more whiny than you had intended. 

He just ignores you, his chest rumbling quietly in amusement against your back as he leans down to murmur in your ear. “Means she was hoping someone’d take her clothes off to get a peek at her, isn’t that right?”

You don’t get the chance to respond, because Jake wraps an arm around your middle and plucks you right out of Neytiri’s lap. You end up sprawled in his lap with your thighs spread wide over his, your back plastered against his chest. One of his hands rests against your belly to keep you pinned against him, keeping you firmly in place against him.

You half expect Neytiri to be irritated over being interrupted, but if anything she’s brightened even further. There’s a gleam in her eyes as she pushes herself off the bed, landing on her knees in between Jake’s spread thighs.

You feel ridiculously exposed like this; it’s almost as if Jake has maneuvered you into this position with the express purpose of showing your body off. Your thighs bracket his, and when he spreads his legs yours are forced wider too, giving Neytiri an eyeful of your scarlet red panties and the absolutely humiliating wet spot that’s currently soaking through the crotch. 

Your back is arched too thanks to the way that he’s holding you tight against him, which forces your tits out and gives him a good eyeful of the nips and bruises that Neytiri’s greedy mouth had left behind.

“Damn, you did a number on her, didn’t’ya?” Jake’s big fingers trace over the tender marks across your breasts, and you swear it feels like the contact sends a little zap of electricity racing through you.

Neytiri just giggles, her cheeks dimpling as she smiles up at you and Jake from between your spread thighs. The close proximity of her face to your pussy almost takes your breath away, and your breath catches in your chest when she rubs her big thumb over the wet patch on the fabric of your panties.

Some part of you wonders if you should try to slow things down, to talk things out, but then Neytiri hooks her long fingers in the band of your panties and tugs them clumsily down your thighs and all sensible thought completely abandons you.

You let out a soft, wanting sound when Jake’s fingers run through the slickness of your pussy, spreading you wide so that Neytiri can get a proper look at you. She even leans closer, and the heat of her breath against your oversensitive, damp skin has you twitching.

“What do you think, baby?” Jake asks Neytiri, leaning over your head and looking down at her with a grin. His fingers roll a teasing circle over your clit, and you groan as your head falls backwards to rest against his chest.

“She is so small.” Neytiri coos, her own big fingers joining Jake’s in stroking over you. 

All you can do is lay there in Jake’s lap, with your eyes wide and your chest heaving as their big fingers press into you, stretch you wide, and rub at your clit. It’s like they’re trying to outdo each other, trying to unravel you with their fingers alone. Their hands are so big that the combination of their touches feels overwhelming, as though the heat of their fingers is stealing the breath right out of your lungs.

God, you love how they make you feel so small and delicate. Getting manhandled and pinned down during sex is exciting normally anyway, but with two Na’vi twice your size that excitement turns into an outright thrill.

Neytiri kisses the inside of your thigh. It’s such a sweet little motion, her plush lips dragging gently over the thin sensitive skin of your inner thighs. It’s not much of a surprise when her lips add a little suction, a little nip of her canines, just so she can suck another little lovebite at the juncture of your hips and thighs.

“So pretty, syulang.” She whispers, but her voice is muffled as she trails kisses tantalisingly close to where you want her mouth.

“Neytiri,” You whimper. You try to squirm, but Jake keeps you still. “Please-!”

Jake chuckles, his chest rumbling pleasantly against your back. “C’mon, Neytiri, baby, help me get her ready.”

“She’s so wet already.” Neytiri murmurs, her cheeks dimpling so prettily as she leans in and finally lays her mouth on you.

The wet heat of her mouth has your head tilting back onto Jake’s shoulder with a moan, earning a quiet laugh from Jake as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. His big hands keep your thighs spread, and you end up with your legs spread wide and thrown over Neytiri’s shoulders as she latches onto your clit and sucks.

“Fuck!” You yell, your hips jerking. But Jake keeps your hips pinned down so that your ass is pressing against the hardened bulge in his loincloth, his arms wrapped around your belly as he watches Neytiri eat you out from over your shoulder.

“She tastes good, doesn’t she, baby?” Jake croons to her, snickering when Neytiri moans out a garbled response, all muffled into your cunt.

Even from the corner of your eye, you can see the excited smile that’s tugging at Jake’s lips as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to get a better look at Neytiri hungrily licking you out. Judging by the stiffening of his cock pressed against your ass, he is more than enjoying the view.

Na’vi tongues are so oddly textured, like a cat-tongue almost, and Neytiri’s licks against you are rougher than they would be with a human partner. It also means that when her wide, rough tongue rasps over your clit, sparks practically burst behind your eyes as you cry out.

“That’s it, honey. Just relax.” Jake whispers to you, his wide palm cupping your tits and squeezing a little.

Neytiri’s tongue slides down the lips of your pussy until she reaches your slit, and then her tongue is wiggling inside of you and you’re turning your head to the side and whining into the pretty blue skin of Jake’s neck. He just hums, obviously enjoying the sight of his wife tongue-fucking you as you’re held spread open in his lap.

Jake’s cock is pressing into the dip at the small of your back, scalding hot and hard as a goddamn rock, and you alternate between rocking against the length of his hard dick and back into Neytiri’s greedy mouth. She mouths along your pussy, her teeth grazing and scratching at the sensitive skin just right. 

You let out an overwhelmed sort of sob, the air catching in your chest as you heave for breath, and you can feel Neytiri smile against the soft flesh of your pussy. Neytiri’s tongue traces your folds, pulling them into his mouth and suckling. You arch your back and moan into Jake’s neck, though your own little sounds of pleasure are mostly drowned out by the soft, breathy moans she keeps making into your pussy everytime she licks into you.

The two of them are caging you in with their big bodies, holding you so gently even as they push you close to the edge. The sweet, hot tension in your lower belly coils tighter and tighter until you’re a trembling wreck, ready to shatter apart.

“Oh… oh god.” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut tight as your head rests back against Jake’s chest. He just chuckles, and smooths some of your sweaty hair back off your forehead.

“Gonna come, honey?” He whispers, his voice all coy and teasing in your ear. “Oh shit, you crying?”

You are tearing up, just a little bit, from all the sheer stimulation of Neytiri’s mouth on your pussy and Jake’s enormous hands groping at your tits. You still manage to smack Jake’s bicep for that comment though, a weak little slap to his hard muscle.

“Shit, I’m… I’m gonna–” You start to say, your eyelids fluttering shut in anticipation as that beautiful, toe-curling tension starts to coil sweetly in your lower belly.

But right as you’re about to tip over that precipice into bliss, Neytiri pulls away and you nearly start crying for real.

“No! Wait, don’t stop–” You whine, your hips humping into the air in an attempt to follow after Neytiri’s mouth.

“Shhh, mawey, syulang. Calm.” Neytiri purrs, another little kiss placed on your soft inner thigh. “So perfect, yawntu.”

The pupils of her eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them, and she keeps leaning her cheek against the plush flesh of your thigh. She looks drunk almost, even as she keeps kissing all along your thighs and up over your tummy, before returning to your cunt just to give you slow, kittenish licks right over the bead of your clit.

Your entire body jerks with every kiss. Her tongue is hot and wet as she licks at you, and it feels like liquid fire erupts through your nerves. Your hips twitch and chase after her touch, but Jake keeps you in place with his firm grasp on your thighs.

You’re desperate, frantic for any kind of release. This feels as though it’s been building for years, as though your body has just been waiting for them to touch you like this. God, it feels good. They’re so much bigger than you that any wrong move could end up with them actually crushing you between them, and yet they’re so sweet and careful. You feel as safe with them as ever.

As if he senses your impatience, Jake kisses the spot just under your ear. “You want more, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You hiss, already squirming in his lap. Your ass rubs against his dick and he groans, his arms tightening around your waist to pull you back onto him so that he can grind against you.

“What d’you think, huh?” Jake’s voice is rough and gravelly as he speaks to Neytiri, his arousal obvious. “Is our little lady ready for it?”

“She is so small, ma Jake. It will be a tight fit.” Neytiri murmurs, her voice all muffled as her fingers dip back inside you. You roll your hips against her fingers, whimpering a little at the mouth-watering stretch as she pushes a third long finger inside. 

“She’ll take it,” Jake murmurs, his flat nose pressing into your temple. “Won’t you, beautiful?”

One Na’vi finger is probably the equivalent of two of yours, so the stretch is enough to send your head spinning. You barely even comprehend what he’s saying to you, but you nod blindly anyway, gasping wetly as Neytiri fingers you.

“Uh huh, yeah, please.” You say stupidly, wiggling on his lap.

Jake lifts you a little higher, holding you close to his chest as Neytiri pulls his loincloth off. And fuck, you had almost forgotten how big his dick was. He’s so hard, the delicate little glowing white freckles along the length of it twinkling like little stars, just like the ones splashed across Neytiri’s tits.

“Hush, honey, we’re gonna look after you.” Jake soothes you, kissing your temple. “Gonna be so good to you. Fuck, been waiting so long for this.”

Jake grunts a quiet moan when Neytiri’s hand closes around his cock, and he muffles his appreciative noises in the curve of your shoulder. Neytiri presses a playful kiss to the tip of his dick, earning another groan from Jake, before she looks up at you again.

“You are okay, syulang?” She whispers, setting one heavy hand on your waist and stroking her long thumb over your stomach.

You’ve never been so eager for anything in your life. It’s like your body remembers the feeling of Jake’s fingers and the weight of his cock on your tongue, because it feels like every nerve is aflame as you wait for him to press into you and stretch you wide. You’ve been thinking about this since that night, lying alone in your quarters and stuffing yourself full with your fingers trying to imagine it was his dick. No matter what though, it never feels like enough.

You nod, and lean forward in Jake’s lap to try and kiss Neytiri again. You’re a little shy about it, still a little thrilled that you’re allowed to do this, and she ends up sitting up on her knees and placing her hand on the back of your head to pull you into a sweet, lingering kiss.

As she kisses you, the thick head of Jake’s dick drags through your folds and you shiver in anticipation. Even just the tip of it feels big when he’s grinding it against your clit, and you wrap your arms around Neytiri’s shoulders for stability  as Jake positions himself at your entrance.

“Fuck,” The groan is punched out of you when you feel the insistent pressure of Jake’s cock pressing into you. “Jake… Your dick is too big, it won’t fit–”

“You think I gotta big dick, sweetheart?” Jake laughs, cause he’s an asshole like that. His teeth flash in a grin. 

“You’re such a dickhead.” You complain, but you find yourself laughing breathlessly anyway. 

His intention was to make you relax a little, and it works. Jake and Neytiri’s big fingers have been stretching you out, and you’re so horny and eager right now that it’s now or never.

Jake just snickers, and reaches over to your bedside locker. He opens it up and reaches inside, and pulls out the tiny plastic bottle of lube you have hidden away in there. You can't even think about how he knows it’s there because Neytiri keeps kissing you stupid, and you don’t have any brain power to spare.

Neytiri trails kisses down your neck and chest, pausing at your breasts again. She takes a hasty, shaky breath from the CO2 respirator around her neck, before dropping it and leaning forward to wrap her lips around your nipple again while massaging your other breast with her free hand. Her gentle but eager touches feel genuinely addictive, like she’s leaving trails of pure heat along your oversensitive skin with every brush of her lips.

Jake’s cock, slick with lube, presses up into your cunt, and you let out a garbled whimper at the feeling of intense dull pressure. “Oh, fuck.”

You jolt when Neytiri lets your tit go with a soft, wet little pop. She coos softly at you, cupping your cheek with her hand and brushing her thumb over your cheekbone. Her eyes are so big and golden and pretty, and she’s looking up at you with an awed sort of smile, as though she can hardly believe she’s seeing you like this right now.

Jake begins to press into you, stretching you wide and slipping inside inch by inch. 

You gasp desperately as you’re speared open inexorably slowly, tears pricking your eyes as your mouth drops open. Your hips twitch, unsure whether to press back into him to get him deeper inside of you faster or to jerk away from the intense stretch, but his hands are clamped tight around your hips to restrict your movement.

“Fuck, so tight.” Jake grunts, pausing. “Strangling my cock. Shhh… your pussy was made for this, honey. You’ll stretch.””

The noise you make barely sounds human, an incomprehensible mix between a moan and a squeal as Neytiri steadies you, her big hands settling on your waist. She’s staring between your legs, obviously transfixed by the sight of Jake rocking his cock into you in steady increments. Though you can’t see yourself, you can only imagine that it must be quite the sight.

“Just– put it in all at once!” You burst out, gasping as you squeeze your eyes shut. You feel as though you’re about to get totally overwhelmed, the breath driven right out of you as the shocking girth of him stretches you wide.

“Easy, baby girl.” He rumbles into your ear, breath coming in short puffs. He bites at the junction between your neck and shoulder as he slides another inch deeper inside of you. “You’re doing so good.”

You try to calm yourself, taking your deep breaths, but for a heartbeat or two you can’t breathe at all, hovering on a knife's edge of pain and pleasure as your body could only yield – it doesn’t even feel like there’s room in you even to inhale –

“Be gentle, Jake.” Neytiri murmurs, her thumb landing on your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles against it to soothe you.

“I know, I know, I got her.” Jake grunts.

Each ridge on his cock rubs against your inner walls, the slick, throbbing friction never flagging. His rough hands wander erratically, raking up your rib cage, over one breast and down again, grasping as if a handful of you is not enough as he moves his hips in slow humps to get his cock as deep in you as he can manage.

“Fuck!” You moan throatily, dropping your head to hang low as you rock your hips experimentally back on his dick. “Jake, you gotta… gotta move.”

It doesn’t all fit inside of you, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind – he’s grunting out quiet curses, his voice rough and deep as his cock rocks into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch is achy, but the weight and girth of his cock rubs against every goddamn nerve you have. Even though it feels as though he’s splitting you in two, you still find your hips rocking insistently against him, mewling at the sensation. 

“Oh honey, you been practicing?” Jake grunts, his sharp canines dragging along the side of your throat. “Goddamn, look at you. Sucking me right into you, aren’tcha? Look, baby, you seeing this?”

“I see.” Neytiri hums, still playing with your clit. She shoots you another smile, before leaning in and kissing at your tits again. “So soft, syulang. So lovely. Doing so well, yawne.”

“Fuck,” Jake groans as he watches his wife touch your tits and marvel at how soft they are. “That’s hot.”

“Go faster.” You whine, tilting your head back to rest against Jake’s shoulder. “Fuck me properly, I can take it, I promise–”

Jake chokes out a laugh, and pulls your back tight against his stomach as his dick grinds deep inside of you, stealing your breath and promptly shutting you up. The moan that’s torn from you is absolutely filthy, your cunt fluttering around him as you fight to take him in, every nerve firing as Neytiri suckles at your breasts.

“Shhh, just take what I give you, gorgeous. Feels like you’re gonna squeeze my cock off. So fucking tight, mama, goddamn–” 

You try to lift yourself up, determined to ride him, to take some kind of control over the pace, but Jake holds your hips tight to keep you exactly where he wants you. 

It’s so frustrating, because you’re so desperate for more. You know you can take it, you’ve been fucking your fingers just imagining this for days now, gradually stretching yourself out, and Neytiri has already ensured that you’re good and ready for this. You feel like you’re going to lose your mind if Jake doesn’t just fuck you properly already.

Neytiri’s tongue rolls around your nipple, pulling a soft whine out of your throat, before she releases your titty and kisses her way up your neck, pausing by your ear.

“He can be mean, can’t he, pretty girl?” Neytiri whispers in your ear, her voice all teasing and playful. “You musn’t let him tease you. Take what you want. Do you want me to show you how?”

You nod, your mouth dropped open as you pant, your stomach fluttering in excitement.

Neytiri gives you a sharp, hungry smile, before pushing herself to her feet once more. You crane your head back to watch her, your breathing picking up. You must have missed her taking off her loincloth, but now she’s entirely naked in front of you. Your eyes trace over her small but firm breasts, her toned belly, the impressive musculature of her legs, the pretty curve of her pussy. The beautiful bioluminescent freckles all over her jewel-blue body twinkle in the dim artificial light of your quarters, and your mouth goes dry as you’re seized with the desire to trace them with your tongue.

But she’s already climbing onto your rickety bed, and shoving roughly at Jake’s chest. He lets out a low, wanting sound, and lets her push him flat. Now that he’s laying flat on your bed, Neytiri coaxes you to turn – you have to bite back your laughter as you spin around on Jake’s dick so that you’re facing him, and you can see the way he’s clearly fighting his own snickers too. 

But Jake never gets to make a joke about the way you just spun around on his dick like a top, because Neytiri swings her leg over his head and straddles his face as though it’s nothing, her body facing you as she simply sits down.

“Ah,” She moans, her eyelids fluttering as she grinds herself against Jake’s mouth. “He talks so much, doesn’t he, syulang?”

You wheeze a laugh, hardly able to believe this is happening. Jake does talk a lot, but he seems very happy to be forced into silence like this judging by the way his cock is twitching inside you. His groans are muffled but no less pleased, one hand coming up to wrap around Neytiri’s thigh and encourage her to rock into his mouth.

Neytiri lets out a soft pleasured sound, before raising her eyes back to you. Her smile is lazy, her eyes half-closed as she relishes the feeling of Jake’s mouth against her pussy. She reaches out and takes one of your hands, intertwining your fingers before she leans forward and kisses you so sweetly.

“Go ahead and move how you want to, tawtute.” She whispers, her tongue gliding over your lower lip.

You mewl a little, but do as she says. You place a hand firmly on Jake’s belly for balance, before lifting yourself on shaky knees and dropping back down again. You groan at the feeling, and in the same moment Jake’s hips rock up into you and his belly visibly tightens. His obvious pleasure buoys your confidence, and you do it again.

Your thighs burn – Jake’s cock is long, and you have to lift yourself higher than you’re used to in order to ride him properly. But it’s a challenge you’re willing to take because even though the stretch of him burns, it feels delicious. You feel drunk on it, your mouth falling open as tears over overstimulation begin to leak from the corners of your eyes.

Neytiri watches you through her half-lidded golden eyes, a lazy smile pulling at her lips as her tails sways in the air behind her. One of her hands is squeezing absently at her tits, the other holding your hand tight as the two of you rock against Jake. 

"Hah," You gasp out as you involuntarily squeeze around the girth of his cock. “Ah… oh god, I’m…”

“How does it feel, syulang?” Neytiri breathes, watching the way your hips undulate over Jake’s stupidly big cock, trying to get it to hit just right.

“Feels– shit, so big, but so good–” You sob, overwhelmed yet so needy. Your legs are tiring already, thighs burning as you grind against him. “Want him to move–”

Neytiri hums, before reaching out and smacking at Jake’s hip. He groans into her cunt, the slick sounds of his mouth against her enough to heat your cheeks up, but he gets the message loud and clear because his hips jolt into action.

Each thrust shakes your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Jake’s hips thrust up, fucking you from below. Your pussy is drenched, aiding the lube he had soaked his cock as he glides in and out of you effortlessly, your body opening up for him as though you had been born for this.

His cock reaches something within you that has a sob ripping from your throat, your head tossing back as you wail towards the ceiling.

"Oh my god," You cry out, his cock spearing into you and hitting that spot with precision over and over again, "Fuuuck."

“Is that how you like it, yawntu?” Neytiri breathes. She’s getting close herself; you can tell by the jagged rhythm of her hips as she humps against Jake’s face, and the wide blackness of her pupils.

“Uh huh, yes!” You whine, your vision blurring. It feels like your body is drawing tense as a bowstring, your toes curling so hard it almost hurts.

You’re not sure if Jake can actually hear you or not, considering Neytiri’s thighs are closed tight around his ears, but the hand that isn’t holding onto her leg travels down to your hip and holds you tight. His thumb strokes over the swell of your ass even as he encourages you to rock against him. All you can do is grind against him every time his hips piston up, the thick swell of his cock settling so deep inside of you it feels like it’s in your stomach.

Your pussy is already fluttering, your belly tightening as your rising orgasm begins to prickle at the edges of your body. Fuck, you already feel as though it’s about to shake you apart at the seams, like you’ll never feel whole again without the delicious stretch of Jake’s cock. 

To your surprise, it’s Neytiri that comes first. She cries out, her big hand encompassing yours as her eyes roll, her head dropping forward to nestle into your neck as her body shakes apart. 

Beneath her, Jake’s chest rumbles with a low purr of arousal as she comes all over his face – but he’s a man devoted to his mission, because he somehow manages to keep fucking into you all while he licks Neytiri through her own orgasm.

You’re actually quaking at this point, grinding yourself desperately on top of Jake as his hips thrust up into, the friction so damn good even though you can tell that he’s trying so hard to be careful with you. This particular position isn’t super conducive to your own pleasure, but being fucked like this while having such strong visual stimulation is nice – you can hardly tear your eyes away from Neytiri as her body goes lax, her eyelashes fluttering wildly as she humps lazily against Jake’s face to ride the last shivery shocks of her orgasm out.

God, it feels as though you’re never going to get over this. You feel as though your nerves are right on the edge of frying, your lungs and muscles burning and your skin slick with sweat as you rock and writhe wildly, taking a cue from Neytiri and seeking your own satisfaction. You can’t imagine ever feeling better than this; it feels as though you’re blooming under all of the attention that’s being lavished upon you.

Once Neytiri stops shaking, she takes a moment to just gasp for breath even as her hips roll slowly over Jake’s tongue. Slowly, she blinks back to herself, then her eyes fall back upon you. A slow, lazy smile spreads across her face, and then she’s reaching out to you all over again, her fingers landing on your clit to rub over it in a teasing circle.

Her long fingers barely brush the fraught nerves before ecstasy settles between each of your vertebrae. Your pussy flares, gripping onto the throbbing thickness of Jake’s cock. Shaking violently, your thighs squeeze Jake’s slim waist as everything tightens, pulses, spasms. 

Overwhelmed, whimpering sort of wails pour from your lips in a deluge, your jaw is slack, the waves of ecstasy rendering you utterly helpless to the instinctual rutting motions of your hips. You're rocking up against him while simultaneously attempting to escape the sensation, choking out gasping moans as you fall apart.

You must tighten up like a vice when you come, because Jake yells out, his hips bucking. His shout is muffled by Neytiri’s pussy as you squeeze down on his dick, trembling. 

The way your cunt constricts around him proves too much for Jake’s poor cock. You can feel the hot, thick spurts of cum as as he empties himself inside of you, his soft tummy twitching and trembling as his hips flex. You're exhausted, powerless to do anything other than bathe in the sensation of your cunt convulsing around Jake’s twitching cock as he shakes under you, moaning into Neytiri’s cunt as she grinds lazily on his tongue.

When your thighs finally stop trembling, your over-fatigued body starts to go limp. It feels as though your muscles have been liquefied, and you start to slump over a little. Neytiri seems to take sympathy on Jake, because she finally lifts herself off of Jake’s face in order to cup your face, kissing your cheeks and forehead.

Below you, Jake just groans, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe. He only takes a moment though before he starts slowly rocking his hips again, as though he’s just trying to fuck his cum deeper into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below.

“Oh my god.” You pant, your lungs overworked as you try to catch your breath. “Oh, holy fuck.”

Jake laughs, wheezy with his own disbelief. However wrecked you feel, Jake looks absolutely destroyed. His chest and stomach are glossy with sweat, his hips drenched in lube and your own release. His dreads are in disarray, his eyes hazy and a little dazed as his chest heaves. His mouth and nose are shiny slick too from both his own saliva and from Neytiri coming all over his face. 

Despite his dishevelment, he looks impossibly pleased with himself as he fumbles for his respirator, taking clumsy breaths even as he smiles dopily to himself, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

Neytiri helps lift you off Jake’s dick, which you end up being extremely thankful for when you find that your knees are watery and weak. You try to pretend you don’t notice the sheer amount of come that’s leaking out of you, thick and a little iridescent in the artificial light of your quarters.

You’re so fucked out that you hardly even twitch when Neytiri pulls you back against her chest, settling comfortably back on the mattress beside Jake. You end up squished between them in a pile of sweaty slack limbs. You feel so tiny next to them, especially considering the two of them don’t even fit properly on the bed – their legs are hanging right off the mattress, their feet planted on the ground as they nuzzle against you and each other.

Now that all the adrenaline is wearing off, you can certainly feel the ache left behind from all of your activities, and the sting from the sheer stretch of Jake’s cock.

“Ow.” You mutter absently, though it comes out muffled as your face is currently squished against Neytiri’s firm breasts.

She coos at you, her big hand stroking over the back of your head before she reaches out to smack at Jake’s forehead. “You were too rough with her, skxawng–”

“I was not– ouch, damn!” Jake flinches back, ducking down and using you as a floppy sort of human shield. “Okay, okay. You alright, honey?”

“Mm. Tired.” You mumble. You feel like you’ve just had all the thoughts fucked right out of your head, because you can barely string a sentence together right now.

“I have balms back at home,” Neytiri ensures you, her lips dragging over your temple. “Where you should be.”

You manage a breathless sort of laugh, your toes curling at the sound of that. They’ve always invited you into their home, but you’ve always been a little worried about overstaying your welcome. Now, all wrapped up in their naked embrace in your little blissful post-coital puddle, you find yourself almost deliriously thrilled about going back home with them.

“You hurt?” Jake asks, his voice rasping pleasantly in your ear. It sends a pleasant tingle down your spine, but that disappears almost instantly as his big fingers prod at the oversensitive lips of your pussy.

“Ow! Fuck, Jake, what is wrong with you-” You grouse, slapping his hand away from you. “No, I’m fine, but I’m sensitive down there. I don’t need your fat fucking fingers poking inside of me again.”

“You loved my fat fucking fingers before.” He grumbles, but there’s a teasing edge to his voice as he places a tiny kiss on the back of your neck. “Neytiri’s too, huh?”

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, but there’s no point denying that. You just grumble incomprehensibly, burrowing deeper into their arms. Jake snickers, shuffling closer so that he’s completely plastered against your back, his big arm wrapped around both you and Neytiri.

Neytiri hums, enjoying Jake’s arm around her as her own hand trails over the valley of your waist and hips. “No need for others, syulang. You have us, yes? We look after you.”

You breathe a weak laugh, but your answer is interrupted by an ominous creaking noise coming from beneath you. There’s a brief pause, and then an almighty crash as your rickety old bed breaks from the weight of the two full grown Na’vi bodies laying atop of it. You squeal, but there’s really no need because Jake and Neytiri hardly flinch at all. They just glance down as though the wreckage of your bedframe is nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

“Oh my god.” You squeak, sitting up to try and see the damage.

“Does not matter.” Neytiri says dismissively. She’s stretching out, her lithe body elongating as she yawns like a big cat. “You will just stay in our bed.”

There’s a pause. You nearly start laughing, though you manage to bite back your reaction. Oh god, you’ve just fucked your best friends. It feels as though Jake has managed to screw your braincells right out of your skull, because all you can do is gape at their big, sexy bodies like an absolute moron. Not only have you just fucked your friends, but they’re also clearly expecting you to come back home with them. 

“Lie back down,” Jake murmurs, reaching out to beckon you back to their sides.

“I should shower,” You mumble, but you’re already laying back down. Your hips are sore from being stretched so wide, and you have no confidence that you’re actually able to stand without your knees buckling. “I feel gross.”

“Bathe with us back at the village.” Jake says immediately, his wide nose burying itself into the back of your neck. He breathes deeply, and his chest rumbles in a quiet purr. It sends soothing little reverberations down your spine, encouraging you to relax into his big body.

You have a feeling that he just wants you to walk around the village, stinking of the two of them. You also have a feeling that it’s the same reason behind Neytiri leaving all of those throbbing hickeys behind on your body wherever her mouth could reach, and you can’t fight the tired smile growing on your face. You’re too tired to argue, and just flop bonelessly between the two of them, enjoying your warmth. It’s so familiar, laying in their shared embrace. You’ve been doing this for years, although admittedly it’s usually with the rest of the family and you’re usually clothed, but it’s still comfortably domestic and intimate.

You suppose you’ll doze for a while, napping in wreckage of your shitty old bed in the pleasant afterglow of what was probably the best sex of your life. Jake and Neytiri have burrowed so deep into your life, your mind, your body, that everything feels so bizarrely natural with them.

You won’t sleep long, you think as you cuddle up against Neytiri’s smooth skin, with Jake’s bulk curling around your back. Dinner will be soon, and you’re hungry.

Besides, you had promised Lo’ak you’d be there.

[golden-explosions-main]

*a Snickering other universe chara. seems that they are concerned and amused at the same time* you alright there Partner? what the hell happened to lead to broken bones and monster scarring? I admit im impressed that you managed to get grounded and injured at the same time.

Flowey: "Well, it started with my dumb idea to go inside the old abandoned theatre in town and get ideas for a creepypasta, Frisk initially didn't want me to go, but I obviously didn't listen and went anyway...and they ended up tagging along anyway,"

Frisk: "I didn't want him to be alone, and things were actually going pretty well, we had a lot of fun...until I went up the stairs so Azzie could get better pictures,"

Flowey: "And then one of the steps broke,"

Frisk: "And we went tumbling down the stairs, like lovable morons,"

Flowey: "I was protecting Frisk's head, which is why they avoided any concussions, but they still got a broken arm...anyway, we ALMOST got away with going there...,"

Frisk: "Until I decided to sneak out to get Azzie's phone that he had dropped during the fall and forgot about at the theatre-,"

Flowey: "Frisk was high on painkillers,"

Frisk: "I was...and I did a terrible job at sneaking out and Asgore and Toriel, of course caught me, and I had to confess, and I was almost grounded too, but Asriel very graciously and selflessly took all the blame since it was his idea in the first place, I wasn't there when they talked to him but he apparently made them tea and put on a presentation and everything to change their minds, it sounded very impressive and I'm sure it was, because it worked,"

Flowey: "And uhh.....in other news, I'm finally going to visit an optometrist soon, I know I'm going to hate it,"

Frisk: "But just imagine it everyone! Azzie with glasses!"

Flowey: "...Now stop imagining it,"

[secret-engima]

Snippet of Deleantur (pt2)

(continuation from later on in this one-shot that continues to spiral out of control. Friendly summary is that Deleantur is a time-traveling Noctis who went back way further than he intended, but that’s okay since it just meant he saved the world in time to save Ardyn too. Of course, he’s the only one who knows about that time-travel bit, so other people are Very Confused at times)

     Somnus was genuinely overjoyed when Deleantur finally expressed interest in fishing at a large pool they stumbled across. Because as boring as it was to wait around while Deleantur tirelessly hunted down fish with his rod and line, it was a sign of the young man he, Ardyn, and Aera had been coming to know —a sign of the brother Somnus and Ardyn were coming to love as fiercely as they ever had each other—.

     Somnus even made an effort to demonstrate as much by sitting next to Deleantur on his chosen rock, watching the ripples in the water as Deleantur patiently reeled in his line again and recast in hopes of a bite, “You have a lot of patience for this.”

     Deleantur hummed, “I like it.”

     Somnus huffed, “Yes, but-. You aren’t this patient with other activities. It’s …” unusual, strange, interesting, “different.”

     “That’s because it doesn’t hurt.”

     Somnus stilled and behind him, Ardyn and Aera did too, “…Hurt?”

     Deleantur gave a low noise as he adjusted his grip on his fishing pole, “Yeah.” Deleantur paused, like he was considering something, then continued, “When I was a kid, about … eight years old. I … couldn’t do a lot of stuff. It hurt too much and I was already constantly tired from the medication and the physical therapy. I didn’t want to go outside, even though they said sunshine and fresh air would help me. I didn’t want to … play or run or jump, but books were boring and heavy. So Dad took me out one day and … taught me to fish. He showed me his fishing rod and his line and his lures, taught me how to hold the rod and throw a line, then we sat there together and waited for a fish.”

     Deleantur’s tone was nostalgic and Somnus didn’t dare speak, because this was the first time Deleantur had ever truly talked about his father or his childhood. Deleantur fidgeted with his reel, “I think if I’d been any other kid, it would have been boring. But it was outdoors, and I had a perfect excuse to sit still in the sunshine for hours, and … and Dad was there. Dad was teaching me. So I practiced, and I begged to go fishing whenever I could because I knew he’d come with me to show me how it was done and eventually I … loved it. It reminds me of those days. Before…” Deleantur’s voice trailed off, and breath hitched with sadness.

     Ardyn, who had settled silently on Deleantur’s other side at some point in the story, asked, “Why was it so painful for you to move? Did your father not know the recipes for your powerful healing draughts?” Because potions and elixirs did not require the magic of the Crystal they’d learned, just careful selection of ingredients and even more careful preparation.

     Deleantur did that gesture with his shoulders that he used so often, “Potions and elixirs only work so well. Especially when it’s … serious. If I’d gotten one as soon as it happened, maybe it would have worked, but I didn’t, so I had to recover the slow way.”

     “Recover from what?”

     Deleantur looked up from his fishing, considered the two of them, then reached back with one hand to tug his tunic hem up just enough to show the small of his back and a bit of his spine. Ardyn sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the old scars stretching along the small of Noctis’s back, each at least as wide as two of Somnus’s fingers. The scars disappeared under his clothes in both directions, hinting at a size and damage larger than they could see and Somnus winced, because even he could tell that whatever had left those was … bad. They also looked distinctly like blade scars. Or possibly claws.

     Ardyn reached out with a shaking hand and it was a testament to how far they’d come in earning his trust that Deleantur didn’t flinch away from the gentle touch, just went back to his fishing with a quiet, “A daemon attack. Ripped open the car. Killed the bodyguards, then took out the woman trying to get me to safety. I’m not sure if it was aiming for me that time, or if my getting caught in it was just an … accident. It was going to finish me off when my dad and his guards showed up and drove it off, but by that point the damage was done.”

     Ardyn was still tracing the scars with a reverent touch, “It’s a miracle you survived this. It’s a miracle you can walk. I can only imagine-.” Ardyn stopped and went very quiet. So quiet Deleantur lowered his rod and twisted around to look at Ardyn in concern. Ardyn looked over his shoulder at Aera who was watching from a polite distance with a vaguely horrified expression, then looked back, “You are in pain, aren’t you? All the time. That’s why you limp, why you sleep so often and yet you-. All of this travel, and battle, and hard labor. Why?” Why would you do that to yourself?

     Deleantur sighed and slipped his fishing rod back into armiger with a flick of his wrist, shifted to face them, “It’s my duty.”

     Aera finally joined the conversation, settling down on the grass just behind their rock as she whispered, “You’ve mentioned duty before. What duty drives you to such lengths? No one knew you were of royal blood until a few months ago. Have you not already done enough?”

     Deleantur shook his head, “No. No it’s-. It’s not over,” his expression folded briefly, weary and old again before it smoothed out, “it’s never going to be over. I made a promise. I’m going to fulfill it.” He shook his head again, like a man trying to clear away an inner fog, “Besides, it’s not so bad. I’m … used to it. And it’s better now,” blue eyes glanced at them through thick lashes, “I’m not alone anymore.”

     Aera didn’t smile like she usually would have, just reached out her hands like Ardyn was already doing, “Can we-? May we try? To ease your pain?”

     Deleantur waved their hands away, “Don’t waste your time. The scars are … old, and I’m used to them.” He blinked at their expressions and insisted, “Seriously, I’m fine. I’m used to it, and if Sy- if the healers couldn’t fix it when it was fresh, you aren’t going to be able to fix it now.”

     Somnus watched the two healers of the group fuss and pout, Ardyn going so far as to wax on in a poetic way that was supposed to make Deleantur guilty enough to let him have his way, and tried to fit the newest puzzle pieces of Deleantur into place. Deleantur’s … father —not sire, because that would be Ardyn’s and Somnus’s father— must have been nobility. Deleantur had mentioned servants and guards and what must be one of his strange words for a carriage —Car? Car sounded like it was short for carriage, and Deleantur had a lot of strange words and even stranger ways of using existing words to mean things Somnus would never have associated with them—. Probably the noble of another kingdom, one of the neutral or far away ones, which would explain why Somnus’s father had never caught wind of Deleantur before now.

     But that didn’t explain some of the other things he’d said previously. Or how Deleantur’s mother had met Somnus’s father if her native kingdom did not interact much with Somnus’s. That wouldn’t explain why Deleantur was traveling around here instead of his home country —and Somnus would have heard if an entire kingdom fell in the months leading up to the Wave wouldn’t he?— or who Noctis was, the mysterious King of the Crystal Deleantur had only ever mentioned once. Ardyn had brought up the possibility of Noctis being Deleantur’s elder twin brother, which might explain that part, but that still didn’t explain how they’d learned to purify the starscourge or why Deleantur hadn’t returned to his home kingdom to help out the peasants there rather than the ones here.

     Not that Somnus wanted Deleantur to leave. He’d gotten attached to his mad, unexpected sibling.

     Somnus’s thoughts were interrupted by a startled yelp from Ardyn and a sudden splash of water rippling up onto the rock. Somnus looked up in mild alarm. Ardyn was missing from the rock, Aera was smothering laughter into her hands and Deleantur was grinning, honest to Astrals grinning, like a child who had successfully stolen something from under the cooks’ noses, and Ardyn was-.

     Resurfacing from the pond water, sputtering and sulking, violet red hair hanging in front of his face like a soaking curtain and his precious embroidered white tunic —the only royal garb Ardyn had refused to part with— already turning see-through from all the liquid it was absorbing. Somnus took several long seconds to process that Deleantur, mad, broken, usually too-serious Deleantur had just pushed Ardyn into the pond just to make him be quiet.

     If it had been Somnus that had suffered such a fate, Ardyn would have immediately moved to help him out like a dutiful older brother should, checking for injuries and fussing about possible illnesses brought about by the cold water and the diseases of the pond weeds or some such nonsense. Ardyn would have smiled like a lunatic, but politely refrained from outright laughter until after Somnus was safely ensconced on dry land and dressed in fresh, dry clothes with a possibly a cup of comforting wine in hand.

     Somnus, being the shamelessly cruel little brother that he was, sat there for a good two minutes pointing at Ardyn’s misery and laughing until his sides hurt.

     Ardyn, who could have swum to the sloping, pebbled section of the bank and climbed out on his own at any time, chose instead to tread water and pout at them the entire time, whining melodramatically about cruel siblings and horrible fates and all the things he could fall ill of here in the water —the silly grin on his face gave it all away for the show it was—.

     Ardyn eventually splashed water at the rock and Deleantur scooted to his feet to escape the assault. Somnus just snickered and leaned away from the stray droplets before finally crouching at the edge of the rock and holding out a hand for his brother, “Come on then, Brother, can’t have you suffering a watery demise just yet.” Ardyn reached out a hand and took Somnus’s and then-.

     Water.

     Somnus resurfaced with a spluttering squawk, flailing against Ardyn’s chest as his brother tried not to be shoved under by Somnus’s sudden submersion, “De- Deleantur!” Somnus had done nothing —much— to deserve being pushed in like that-.

     There was a watery, coughing laugh just to his side and Somnus blinked past the wet hair in his eyes at … Deleantur. Treading water next to them and looking just as surprised as they were.

     All three Lucis Caelums looked up to the rock … at Aera, who stood on the rock with a serene smile worthy of temple statues on her face as she fluttered her eyelashes and asked if the three of them were alright. A picture of holy innocence and decorum and kindness the filthy little liar. As if her shoulders weren’t shaking with suppressed laughter and her hands weren’t still outstretched from pushing Deleantur into Somnus in such a way as to make them both topple into the pond at the same time.

     Deleantur broke the brothers’ stunned silence  first, laughing so hard Ardyn and Somnus had to hold him up for fear he’d stop treading water and sink right to the bottom. They dragged each other out of the water, Deleantur still giggling helplessly like a child, and though Somnus scowled and swore revenge against Aera for her treachery, they all knew there was no real bite to his words, not when Deleantur was laughing louder and freer than they’d thought possible.

[the-chosen-half-of-one]

Wow I can’t believe Legends of Tomorrow is the only Arrowverse show anymore, since Beebo took his rightful place as God in this universe, things have been good

[provendermalkin]

@felix-the-pup @lets-eat-dirt-together @punkrockhound

For those in the comments who feel like I'm a monster making things up for no reason and that I CLEARLY just HATE dogs, here are some comments about the two family pets in Shelby County, Tennessee that mauled their family's two young children to death, then mauled the mother almost to death for shielding their corpses with her own body:

They had the dogs eight years, the mother was with their own children in their own yard, the children were not screaming, not hitting, did not have food, were not "provoking" the dogs. They had no known history of abuse or dogfighting. They saw small, vulnerable, weak animals, experienced predatory drift towards them, hunted and killed them, and then tried to kill anyone who got in the way of them resource guarding the corpses. It fucking happens. They're extremely large, powerful terriers. They were bred to want to fight, to let nothing interrupt that desire to fight, and to go after and kill small animals.

Please, tell me more that no one EVER blames the victims or invents wild, fantastic scenarios in their heads to justify why a dog is never ever ever dangerous and their victims must have "done" something to "deserve" it. They MUST have been abusing it. They MUST have DONE something. There's NO POSSIBILITY that a massively-muscular terrier type dog with a high prey drive and muddled breeding could EVER be dangerous to humans.

Like... I hope you never get mauled. Because people like this will come for you, and if you breathe a word about the possibility that large dogs routinely dismissed by misanthropic dog lovers as woobie harmless wittle victim beebies could be dangerous to humans, you'll be crucified, even with every disclaimer in the world that the breed itself isn't evil, just potentially dangerous and not suitable for every home in the world. :\

This rhetoric also destroys the lives of people who do take in a pitty from a shelter-- usually a shelter that has intentionally lied about their bite history or aggression and phrased it in cutesy euphemisms-- and DO get bit or killed. What are they supposed to do, now? Half the commentary says they're morons who deserved it, and SO DOES THE OTHER HALF in defense of pibbles as universally harmless angel babies. And if you don't think shelters do this, here's an excerpt from BFAS about how to hide potential risk factors:

EDIT: If you want to know how I fully feel, there's a post on my blog about it now. tldr they're not evil, people who love them aren't evil, they should be defended from rabid (and often racist) pitbull haters, but don't do it by lying about them, and don't victim blame those harmed by them. Love them for what they are: powerful, tenacious, clever, often silly and lovable predators... who can experience predatory drift and pose a risk to people and animals. They aren't right for every home, and anyone who owns one should be prepared to react responsibly and decisively to any sign of danger. Part of loving them is loving them as they are.

Do you know what the consensus on pit bulls is? Some people say the negative stereotypes surrounding them are unfair, while others insist they’re inherently dangerous dogs that shouldn’t be kept as pets. Both views are biased to some degree, so I don’t know which to believe.

they're just. dogs.

and same as german shepards, same as huskies, same as dalmations, they have specific breed requirements and aren't right for every home! also like all dogs, they have to be trained to be a reliable and safe pet. but with their needs met and good training, they're about the same as any other dog in their size range (with individual exceptions for personal history and trauma of course)