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#idk i’ve been thinking a lot about aging lately

fan-kingdoms · 4 months

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god i wish we had gotten more of twelve with river song. he just meshes so well with her and since their time streams are finally (almost) synced up you don’t feel the imbalance of maturity/knowledge that you get in a lot of eleven’s time with her, and less general timeline “where are they right now what the fuck is happening” fuckery to sort through. just a husband and wife who have lived so much together and know it’s coming to an end very soon so they have to relish it (even if river doesn’t have the knowledge of her own death the way the doctor does, she knows it’s almost over because her diary is running out of pages). and i love watching this older, less theatrical, more rough-around-the-edges doctor with her because it develops their dynamic and the passage of time for the doctor so well. he's not eleven, trying to hide the pain and damage anymore. he doesn't spin off lies and deflections. he wears the hurt and is comfortable in it, and river is there to bring the joy and wonder out. they just have a more mature, beautiful relationship to me.

more thoughts and elaboration under the cut bc i care for your dash <3

twelve and river were such a delight to watch because (this is getting into hot take territory here sorry) once capaldi took over from matt smith, the show basically gave up on the whole “the doctor is very attractive and all the women want him” narrative that it pushed for eleven. of course it was there with ten but i think it got Egregious with eleven. moffat really wanted us to believe matt smith was the hottest man in the universe (and he’s not unattractive! i admit i thought he was attractive when i first watched doctor who years and years ago! the writing was just over the top with it!) twelve is not some young whimsical prettyboy anymore— he’s abrasive, blunt, and old. the show doesn’t treat him like he’s supposed to be attractive, which makes him and river’s relationship feel so real.

first off i want to point out that river is still very much attracted to the doctor in his new body which was so exciting for me because how often to we get to see romance and desire and (sexually) intimate relationships in people past the age of 35??? hardly ever! how often do we see a beautiful woman expressing desire for a man that’s not young or conventionally handsome NOT because she has ulterior motives or we’re supposed to believe he’s actually the sexiest man alive but because she simply loves him? how often do we see relationships where no matter how much change they go through, even when one of them has turned into an entirely different person (figuratively or literally), the love stays steady and unchanged? especially when these changes involve aging? there isn’t nearly enough. and seeing it is kind of healing for me, just a reminder that you can have love and intimacy and passion even when you’re not “young and beautiful” anymore

twelve and river’s relationship is just charged with so much shared experience and trust and i wish we had gotten to see more of it. in conclusion i want a special that recaps the 24 years on darillium thank you and goodbye

#they had twenty four years…#all that time to just live and be husband and wife #all that time for her to learn all the ins and outs of the new him #and all the ways for him to work through how he can express love in the new body #as twelve rather than eleven #and getting to see that she loves him just the same in every form #idk i’ve been thinking a lot about aging lately #i know im young but i have a bit of a fear of it because of how society pushes the whole ‘past your prime’ narrative #especially for women who are taught that they lose value once their ‘youth and beauty’ fades #like i said seeing relationships like these is healing #doctor who #twelfth doctor #river song #the husbands of river song

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arachine · 1 year

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— ❝on this fateful night...two hearts danced.❞ ˚₊✩‧₊

ᥫ᭡ pairing :: neteyam sully x human! reader

ᥫ᭡ synopsis :: in omaticayan culture, a young na’vi male does not yet become a full fledged adult until he passes one of two rites of passage: 1) choosing an ikran, and 2) carving a bow from the wood of Hometree (and/or choosing a woman). reader is now 20, and the only man she’s ever loved is expected to choose a wife soon. one day when she overhears a rumor concerning neteyam and the first woman in line to betroth him, reader is struck with grief, ultimately venturing off deep into the forest where she knows nobody will follow her—somewhere forbidden. however, unbeknownst to her, a certain someone follows her trail…

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ general tags :: 18+ (explicit sexual content, explicit language), angst, fluff

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters aged up to 20, use of alcohol, inebriation, size kink (kinda), vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), male masturbation, overstimulation, riding (no penetration), m/f ejaculation, squirting…i took some things out but i think that’s it?

ᥫ᭡ notes :: what a long week this has been…but we made it! i cannot believe the first thing i post after being on hiatus for months is blue alien sex. anyway, i hope you all enjoy. also, be mindful that the dialogue switches between formal and casual. it’s something that i noticed neteyam and kiri do a lot in the movie. for what reason? idk…but the big font after the read more is intentional bc ik some ppl complain that the small font hurts their eyes :3

ᥫ᭡ word count :: 7.2k

— playlist :: spotify link

“You have been wandering off by yourself a lot lately…”

There goes that attentiveness, you could never put anything past her—Kiri, that is. She was just too good (to a fault), and though her keen eye and emotional intelligence were extremely useful, they were also the most aggravating traits about her.

Now, you could just tell her the truth about the place you’re always wandering off to, and you also could confide in her about the thing that’s been plaguing your mind recently—but you don’t, because you know better.

For a split second, though, you hesitate telling her. The lean girl tilts her head, eyes flitting between your face and the satchel in your hands. Smoothly, you pull the satchel across your body and shift it to rest behind you—out of sight.

Kiri seems to notice your apprehension, and so, she peels her eyes from the bag, offering you her full attention by resuming eye contact once again. If she has even the slightest hunch that you’re hiding something, she doesn’t voice her suspicions.

“Well, I won’t pry, sister. You know that I am always here to listen,” she reassured, reaching out a gentle hand towards your face. You let the tips of her fingers graze your cheek, the warmth of her hand providing transitory comfort.

The two of you exchange sweet smiles before you pull away. It was getting dark, and the longer you stayed here, the harder it’d be to avoid the very thing you were trying to get away from—the very person you were trying to get away from.

“I know, Kiri,” you grabbed her hand, encasing it between your own, “I know…but—I have to go. I promise I’m alright. I’ve just…been doing some thinking, and I think I gotta sort some things out with myself before I can be around the rest of you, you know?”

There’s a silence between the two of you, and you’re not exactly sure if she’s taken offense to what you’ve just said, or if she’s carefully choosing her words. You decide on the latter though, because the last thing you want to do is make her feel as if she’s done something wrong, or if anyone has done something wrong. This was entirely on you; you and your stupid, selfish human heart.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” she replies, squinting her eyes. Again, there’s a silence, but you can tell she still has something to say, like she’s mulling it over. “Will you at least be here tonight? You know, for the big feast? Everyone will be here, even Neteyam,” the girl tsks playfully, shaking her head as she walks circles around you.

Immediately your body stiffens, and she responds to this by teasing you, “Or, I could just save you something…or maybe i’ll ask Neteyam to save you something since he’ll be the most important man tonight.”

“And why would you do that?” the words leave your tongue before you have the chance to process them. It reads rather defensively, but you ignore it. “I mean, why—why ask Neteyam?”

“Because he’s your friend…” kiri pokes you, “because you love him,” she whispers, only this time her voice is a lot more serious, a lot quieter—a whisper. This is when you get that feeling again.

That weird, achy feeling that leaves your stomach in knots and your throat all puffy. The sensation is debilitating—suffocating, and the only way you know how to ease it is by doing what you had set out to do in the first place (though, you were swiftly interrupted).

“Don’t be silly, Kiri,” your smile drops solemnly, “we’re…friends, just friends. Besides, he’s going to be spoken for soon. There are a lot of Na’vi women who would make fine mates…” Your voice decrescendos into the forest night air, the conversation lasting a lot longer than you’d anticipated. To stop your solemn mood from being expressed outwardly, you quickly turn around, looking back once to speak.

“Anyway, I have to go now. I’ll see you later.” Kiri nods and waves bye, her eyes watching as your small frame disappears out of her family’s tent.

A cacophony of voices and music fall on deaf ears as you make your way through the village. The preparation is beginning, but all you can think about is him. Him, him, him.

And ever since you overheard a rumor that Neytiri and Mo’at had chosen the next in line to become tsahik after Neytiri, your heart stopped beating…because you knew. You knew exactly what this meant—the end.

Neteyam was to be a future olo’eyktan, after all. And in Na’vi culture, the future head of the clan and the future spiritual representative were to be betrothed. You knew that, and yet, you couldn’t fathom it. Because then it’d be the end.

The end of your late night rendezvous, the end of your special talks, the end of your banter, and your clandestine glances—your whispers. The ones that were quiet, and innocent…the ones that tingled the shell of your ears. Meant for him and you only.

It was selfish, really. Stupid. You knew the day would come when he’d have to grow up and fulfill his duties as a Na’vi male. Just not this soon though, you wanted to hold onto him a little longer. And if drinking your pain away to preserve those precious memories could do that, then you’d do it.

Lost in your train of thought, you don’t register that you’ve walked yourself right into the heart of a crowd until you bump into a young na’vi child. Apologizing, you then attempt to squeeze through the sea of bodies, tapping lightly on people’s legs until you reach the front. The people were cheering, celebrating the hunters’ return and the game that the Great Mother had graciously given them.

Slowly, hunters had begun pooling in from the forest on direhorseback. Then, they started coming in clusters, all ululating, and pumping their fists in the air while holding their dead game in the other. Your head turned in awe as each hunter rode past you, the energy of the people so contagious that your sour mood was starting to dissipate, even if just a little.

Thinking that was the last of the riders, you begin walking again, but the sound of heavy hooves striking the ground halt your movements. Turning your head back to the trees, you see something moving behind the shrubbery, and then enters none other than the man of the hour: Neteyam. If the people weren’t cheering before, they were definitely cheering now—especially since he’d managed to catch an adult sturmbeest (which was a difficult feat).

The direhorse strides slowly through the crowd, and stops in the centre on Neteyam’s command. Nobody can take their eyes off of him, and neither can you. He just looks so strong, and masculine—like his father, even though he’s the spitting image of his mother. Neteyam puts his hand into the air before he dismounts his horse and ushers the people to settle down, and eventually, they do.

He points to the sturmbeest that his direhorse is carrying back to be prepared. “Tonight, my brothers and sisters…” a pause, “we dance! we sing! we feast!” His words excite the villagers again, uluations so loud that your ears begin to ring. Just as you’re about to turn away, his eyes meet yours—he smiles. And there it is. That achy feeling in your chest.

He wants to say something, reaches his arm out to you as if he were silently telling you to wait up, but then a girl strikes up a conversation with him. At first, you’re not entirely sure who it is—and you shouldn’t even care—but then you do a double take and your heart sinks a little more. It was Tsimandi, the girl rumored to be his betrothed.

From this distance, you can’t hear what they’re talking about, so you watch intently. He’s got his head thrown back in hearty laughter, and she’s touching him—actually touching him, her hands wrapped around his forearm in an attempt to pull him further away.

You think if you stay a second longer you’ll actually become a pile of liquid where you stand, so you take this opportunity to slip away while he’s preoccupied.

When Neteyam looks back, he notices your absence. Squinting, he looks around in search of you, and then he sees what looks like a person disappearing into the thick of the forest. Just what is she doing?

“I apologize, Tsimandi, but I must do something,” he begins backing away, a genuine expression etched onto his face, “I will see you tonight, at the feast!”

“Oh, o-okay,” she mutters but he’s already run off. Neteyam calls for his direhorse and waits at the edge of the forest until it comes running towards him. Before he can mount it and follow you, someone calls out to him.

“And where are you going?” the voice queries, tone laced with suspicion. He recognizes who it belongs to and sighs.

“Nowhere, sir,” he dismounts, meeting his father’s eyes, his mother also accompanying him.

“Yeah, I’d hope so. The people are throwing this feast for you, or have you forgotten?” Jake gives him a once over, eyes still boring into his son.

“No, sir. I have not forgotten,” the boy lowers his gaze in embarrassment.

“Good. Go get ready, knucklehead.”

With each trudge through the forest, you were losing more and more sunlight. You’d walked about halfway to your destination when you remembered the bottle sloshing around in your satchel.

Usually, you waited to drink the liquid there, but you decided given today’s strenuous events, you’d have some now. A reward, you tell yourself. Taking the bottle out of the bag, you lift your mask from your face briefly, twisting open the top and taking a big swig.

No matter how many times you did it, the taste always made you gag. Bourbon—is what they called it. It was equal parts bitter and pungent but it did the trick. Helped you to relax, to forget. The first time you came across it, it was by pure accident.

You’d been somewhere you shouldn’t have been, doing things you shouldn’t have been doing. But one thing led to another, and soon enough, you were inebriated for the first time.

By the time you drink half of your weight in liquor, you reach your destination. The old shack. After what happened with the Sky People, Jake’s first rule as olo’eyktan was to prohibit anyone from entering.

Even being somewhere remotely around the area was forbidden. But you were no stranger to disobedience, you’d come here once with Lo’ak (which was your first time actually).

Though, you didn’t get to explore much because Tuk had spoiled your fun by telling Jake. That day was one of your favorite memories, you think. Jake couldn’t stop yelling at the two of you, but all you could do was laugh. Nothing was really even funny, but you couldn’t help it. Seeing Jake’s eye twitch at your outburst only exacerbated it.

Lo’ak was getting the worst of it, and Neteyam fell victim to Jake’s nagging too for not ‘being there’. After a while, he’d dismissed the bunch of you from his tent and as soon as you were out of earshot, the three of you went into a frenzy of laughter. You think back fondly on those memories, all the ones that include Neteyam, that is.

“God, there isn’t a second when I’m not thinking of you…” you sigh in exhaustion, extending an arm out to open the shack’s door. Reaching in your satchel, you pull out two jars full of glow worms (you’ve found that two jars are enough to light up the shack). Ambling over to your favorite spot, you open a cabinet and reach for another bottle of that bitter liquid you willingly put into your body.

It’s still a wonder to you how well preserved these bottles remained over the years, and you’re pretty sure you’ve heard Norm or someone mention that the older the liquor, the better it tastes (which was a lie, but alas, you down another shot).

“Wooo,” a cough erupts from your throat, “yep, still nasty.”

At this point, the liquor is starting to take effect. Warmth radiates throughout your entire body, and you can feel your limbs gradually getting heavier. Being drunk had to be one of your top three favorite feelings.

It either made you: sad, tired, or giggly (maybe even all at once). But now? Now you were feeling sleepy, so you groggily trudge over to one of the beds in the shack.

As soon as your body hits the plush, a cloud of dust filters through the air. It was incredibly disgusting, but you’d slept in worse places. For now, you would lay here…succumbing to a sweet slumber.

Neteyam had gone home without fuss as promised. Go and get ready. Well, he was doing exactly that now, exchanging his previous attire for that of something more formal. He rolled his eyes and huffed. Sometimes his father could just be a…

“Son of a bitch,” the boy snapped, his frustration reaching its peak. He’d been standing in the tent for about 10 minutes trying to figure out this headpiece his mother had laid out for him, but could not for the life of him figure it out.

Giving up, he throws it to the ground and takes a seat with his head in his hands. Kiri slips in shortly after his outburst, bending to the ground to retrieve the item. Hesitantly, she walks over to her brother.

“If you needed some help, you could have called, brother.” Neteyam lifts his head up from his hands to see Kiri towering over him, his eyes breaking contact with hers as she sits down next to him. There’s a pregnant pause, but it doesn’t last for long because Kiri is already opening her mouth to speak.

“What is troubling you?” She asks, forcing Neteyam to turn his back to her so that she can place the headpiece onto him properly. He inhales deeply, then exhales.

“I do not know…I saw (your name) earlier and…” Kiri hums, encouraging him to continue, “and—she had this strange look on her face.”

“Look? What do you mean? Was she angry? Sad?”

“I have never seen it before, sister. She usually looks happy when she sees me…but this look was different,” his voice is almost inaudible when he finishes. Kiri ponders for a bit, tilting her head as if she were mentally putting the puzzle pieces together.

“How come you did not speak to her?” Kiri makes her final adjustments to the headpiece, ushering Neteyam to meet her eyes.

“I was going to…I tried to, but Tsimandi found me before I could,” he fiddles with his fingers. Kiri takes note of his disposition, and she frowns empathetically. Clearly, whatever was going on with you two was something you had to work out together. This wasn’t like either of you!

“But it was not just today either,” he continues, “she has been distancing herself for awhile, have you noticed?” She laughs at this, nodding her head.

“Yes, she has been acting a little strange lately. I think I might know what is troubling her, brother,” the girl takes his hand into her own. “But I cannot tell you. This is something that concerns only she and you…”

Neteyam squints his eyes in confusion, muttering a ‘what’. His mouth opens to speak but he is swiftly interrupted upon Jake and Neytiri’s arrival. He looks to Kiri for some clarification but all she says is: ‘go, go, you have a feast to attend’, followed with a, ‘find her later’.

“Well? Come on, the people won’t wait for your blue ass all day will they?” Jake teases. Neytiri slaps his arm, scolding him playfully.

“Ah, my son, my beautiful son,” she pads to where he stands, taking his face into her hands. “It is time to go, we must celebrate you.”

Jake nods, flashing a quick wink of approval. Together, they all walk out of the tent and through the village where they’re instantly greeted with colorful luminescence, loud music, and food. All things that have been so generously prepared for him. By the time they make it down to the Tree of Souls, everyone halts their cheering to hear what Jake has to say.

“Tonight we eat,” a pause, “in honor of Neteyam’s mighty victory!” Jake grabs his eldest son’s hand, raising it in the air. “He led his first attack against the Sky People and made it back without any casualties!” A sudden roar of praise erupts from the crowd.

Everyone is chanting his name, and clapping, but even amidst all this praise, he can’t help but to think about you. What does all of this matter if you’re not here to celebrate with him?

You’ve been by his side since the two of you could walk, so where are you now? The thought saddens him, but he can’t wear his heart on his sleeve tonight. Not when there’s so many people here just for him.

“For the past 20 years, my son has always been just a boy to me. But now I realize…he is a man—and he has proven himself in front of the eyes of Eywa,” The former marine glances down at his son, eyeing him in admiration. “Enough talking, let us feast!”

Laughter and songs fill the warm, breezy nighttime air. It’s been about two hours since the celebration commenced, and Neteyam has just about made his rounds to every important family.

He smiles warmly as he looks at the scene in front of him: children playing and dancing by the fireside, putting on elaborate performances for the adults still filling their bellies full of food. Everyone is lively—happy, a testament to tonight’s success.

Mo’at is pleased by this especially, she tells him that ‘this is what the people needed’—you know, to boost morale. At some point, when nobody is watching, he slips away from the party to walk around. Unbeknownst to him, someone has seen him.

“Getting tired?” a voice questions from the shadows. Out comes Kiri, revealing herself from behind a leaf.

“Yes, exhausted actually,” he jokes, disconnecting his braid from his direhorse. “No, but I need to find (your name). She has not come back and it is dark.”

“I figured you would leave early, that’s why I covered your ass and told Dad you were not feeling well,” the feline-like girl smirks.

“Do you have an idea where she might be?”

Kiri takes a moment before answering, “I’m not sure…but for some reason, I have a hunch that she’s at the old shack,” Neteyam furrows his brows in confusion.

“Why do you think she’s there?” he queries, “I mean, it is forbidden.” Kiri offers him a shrug.

“I don’t know but if you’re going to find her, do it now while dad still thinks you’re not feeling well.”

With that, he thanks her for the intel and mounts his horse, disappearing into the thick of the forest. On the way there, his mind conjures up just about every possible scenario that might explain your absence.

Were you upset with him? Did he do something or say something that you didn’t like? He wishes he could just read your thoughts because right now, his heart is pounding so rapidly within the confines of his chest, that he thinks it’ll explode.

This wasn’t like you two, everything was always so easygoing. Being with you was easy, like breathing. But this? His heart couldn’t handle this. Yeah, there’s been some distance between the two of you recently but not due to his own volition—it was duty. If he could spend every second of his life by your side, just being kids, laughing with you, playing with you, he would.

He’s trying to recount these last few days, weeks—months. Trying to pinpoint when exactly things got like this between you…pinpoint when you stopped smiling at him with that smile that made his head all fuzzy, and his heart race like a kid running for the first time.

“Ah, everything’s going to shit, buddy,” he sighs, rubbing the side of his horse, “I don’t know what is wrong.” His mammalian companion grunts empathetically, stopping in its tracks at the edge of the forest when it sees the abandoned link shack. Neteyam doesn’t bother scolding her, because even the animals know that this place is forbidden.

“Alright, I will see you later, okay? Stay here,” he pats her, disconnecting the bond. From this distance, he can see that there seems to be some sort of light illuminating from inside the shack.

That alone already confirms Kiri’s hunch. The closer he gets, the more his stomach feels uneasy. He doesn’t even know why he’s nervous, but he attempts to ease his mind (and body) by telling himself that it’s only you. He’s talked to you one on one hundreds of times, so what’s the difference now?

Noises in the distance rouse you from your ephemeral repose. When you stand up, your head spins with the room, causing you to instinctively reach out for the nearest surface available. Whatever was outside had better be non-threatening, because you were not in the condition to be fighting—let alone standing. When you were drunk like this, you couldn’t even hurt a fly.

“Fuck, I’m gonna have the worst headache soon,” you huff quietly, still aware that there might be someone or something outside. The noise is getting closer, and you’re running out of time to find a hiding spot.

Quickly, you grab the closest thing you can to defend yourself (which is literally a jar of glow worms), and crouch down below the window. When you lift your head just enough to see outside, the makings of a silhouette cloud your vision.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whisper-yell, tightening your hold on the jar. Lifting your head up again, you notice that the figure is not in the spot it was previously. Then, the knob to the shack twists, and now it’s opening, and—

“(Your name)?”

You pause your attack, slowly dropping your hand (that’s holding the jar) to your side. A flood of relief washes over you once you register who the voice belongs to. Rising from the ground, you open the door fully to see Neteyam standing in the doorway.

“I almost killed you, you know!” you raise the jar, pulling him inside of the shack.

“I think it would take more than a jar of worms to kill me,” he teases. Rolling your eyes, you continue ushering him further inside, leading him to an area where you can sit and talk.

“What…what are you doing here?” you finally ask, folding your arms across your chest. Neteyam towers over you from this height, so he accommodates you by dropping to his haunches.

“I was worried about you,” the boy confesses, “what are you doing here? Why were you not at the feast?” Suddenly, you don’t really feel like talking anymore. Even though the adrenaline from before was still pumping through your veins, so was the alcohol in your system. You’re not so sure you’d be able to keep your composure long enough to answer without exposing your truest feelings. So, you decide on deflecting.

“Aren’t you the man of the hour? I think you should go back to the party before daddy throws a fit. We both know how he gets when his perfect little son isn’t at his every beck and call…” As soon as the words spill from your tongue, you wince. It came out meaner than you meant, and the last thing you wanted was to give him shit for being a caring friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t mean that,” you apologize, sitting down on the bed. All he does is sigh, but he takes this opportunity to enter your space, gets all close until his body is nestled between your legs.

“I know…I know, but I want you to tell me what’s wrong, hm?” his fingers lift your chin, “so I can fix it.”

“Can’t fix this, ‘Teyam,” a saltine droplet ribbons down your face. Your head is tilted up with his fingers, but you can’t even force yourself to meet his gaze. God, how pathetic did you look right now?

Here you were, inside an abandoned shack, drinking your body weight in liquor…all while a celebration was being thrown in your best friend’s honor. And for what? Because you were jealous? Because you liked him—loved him?

You knew that eventually your relationship would shift. That he’d take on his duties as the future olo’eyktan, and you’d just be his human friend he hangs with from time to time. How stupid could you be to think things would stay like this forever?

“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothes, both hands now cupping your cheeks, “don’t do that. Do not shut me out. We’re not like this, (your name), you used to always talk to me about things.”

Things. You’d talk about things. But those things were not like these things. And if he knew what things you were thinking about, the things that involved him…then you two would never talk about things again.

You’re curious, though. What if you just told him? Just told him about all the days you’ve loved him, all the nights you’ve stayed up thinking of him—all the stars you counted wishing for him? At least then, the burden of keeping such a secret would stop weighing so heavy on your heart.

“I..” a breath, “I heard a rumor.” The boy hums, encouraging you to continue. “I heard your mother has chosen her successor.”

“Is that what this is about? Why does this bother you?”

“Because you know what this means! We both know what this means, don’t be dense, ’Teyam,” you droop your head in sorrow, coaxing him to just lift it back up. Only this time, his hold on your face is a lot firmer. His eyes are fiercer.

“No. I don’t, so just tell me.”

“You’re gonna be the future olo’eyktan, and we both know that the future clan leader and the chosen tsahik are to be betrothed,” you start, “there will be no time for me! No more late night talks, no more exploring, no more secret whispers…I mean, I get it, you have duties to fulfill but…I wanna be selfish a little longer. Can’t I be selfish a little longer?”

You say the last line while meeting his gaze. You’re teary eyed and shaking, but you try your best to keep any semblance of composure you have left intact (though, it’s failing). His expression is indiscernible.

It makes you nervous. Sick. And now you’re forcing yourself not to throw up because…the realization that you just told someone your deepest, truest, most vulnerable feelings makes you physically ill.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry. Forget what I jus—“

“Are you serious? You don’t get it do you?” Neteyam’s head falls forward, a little chuckle slipping past his lips. His hands leave your head and slither down to your hands. He takes them into his own, eyeing you while kissing the knuckles of each.

The act is incredibly intimate, sends white-hot electricity down the column of your spine. Renders you speechless. All you can do is sit there, too scared that if you move or speak, you’ll shatter into a million little pieces.

“I have duties, yes…but my heart is already spoken for. Always has been.”

“What are you saying, ’Teyam,” your head snuggles into the warmth of his hand. You know exactly what he’s saying, but you want to hear him say—

“I see you,” he whispers in your ear, “you are my most beloved.” The warmth of his breath tingles the shell of your ear, it takes the strength of a thousand men to not scream.

But in this moment? In this moment you want to kiss him. You want to kiss him silly, actually, but you quickly remember the thing on your face preventing your lips from connecting with his. There are truly evil forces conspiring against you.

“I want to kiss you,” you admit solemnly.

“Oh, you don’t know how many nights I’ve spent dreaming about kissing you. Too many,” he jokes, “but I’m afraid if we remove this, you’ll die.”

“Then you don’t have to kiss my lips,” a silence, “you can kiss me anywhere you’d like. Anywhere.”

His green eyes flitter between your face and your body, and then his hands are on you, forcing you to lay back against the bed. You lift your head up and lean back onto your elbows, watching through lust-filled eyes as he begins his ministrations.

He starts from the bottom, works his way up real slowly—too slowly. He’s showing restraint, and while you appreciate the fact that he’s worshiping your body like a devoted follower worships their deity, you want him to ravage you. To eat you up until there’s nothing left but bones.

“’Teyam, please…” you breathe out impatiently. Like the cocky-brat he is, he ignores your pleas, only laughing into your skin.

“Shh, be calm.” The plush of his lips trail up the plains and pastures of your body, up your calves, your thighs (he spends the most time there), and then comes to a stop at the crest of your breasts. His fingers fiddle with the cloth covering your chest, lightly tracing the edges that rest just beneath your mounds.

A tease is what he is. And you didn’t have the time for a tease, so you figured you’d help speed up the process by removing it. Sitting up, you untie the makeshift top and let it fall to your lap, smirking deviously as if you’ve done something so naughty.

“Thought I’d help you,” you grin, wrapping your hands around his neck, “Please, no more going slow…I think we’ve been going slow for twenty years, don’t you think?”

And he gets the hint, once again resuming his assault on your body, but this time with more fervor. More urgency. He’s kissing you everywhere, licking wet stripes over your chest, and leaving love bites in the places where he’s kissed you. Right now he’s acting on his most basic, primal instincts—he’s claiming you as his mate—in the only way he knows how to.

The feeling of his hands on your neck, back, thighs and waist send you into oblivion. But then his hands are creeping up to your tits, deft fingers twisting and kneading, and oh god, you’re seeing stars. The addition of his mouth doesn’t help either.

“You’re so,” a kiss, “beautiful,” a suck, “perfect.” Neteyam kneads one breast while his mouth works on another. He plops down onto a pert nipple, using his tongue to draw circles around the area, his saliva acting as a salve.

A moan (that comes out more like a disgruntled sigh) vacates your throat, and his eyes widen in excitement. The sight of his tail swaying in the background makes you giggle. Cute, you think.

Even though what the two of you were doing wasn’t innocent, you couldn’t help but to feel all giddy. Reaching a hand out, you place a gentle palm on the side of his face.

You trace the contours of his nose, his cheekbones, smooth over his jaw, and then stop at his lips. Your thumb grazes them, first the top, then the bottom—learning. Committing them to memory, how they look, feel, and move under your thumb.

Neteyam is unmoving while you continue to run your finger across his lips—save for his hand, which slowly begins traveling south to your thighs. Experimentally, you push your thumb inside of his mouth, pressing the digit down on his tongue before tracing his cat-like canines. This moment is particularly special, because now it’s you who’s doing the admiring.

The free hand that’s not inching towards your core, skillfully removes the loin cloth around your hips. Immediately, he’s met with your bare sex. It’s smooth—wet, so incredibly wet that it has his cock twitching, and his hands eager to touch you. He wants to taste you. Feel you, all of you.

“I—,” a slender finger rubs your slit, “mmf, see you,” you mewl, cupping his cheek. Neteyam’s eyes widen, he wants to hear you make that sound again…and again, and again, and—

The boy repeats the action. Watches your abs flex and tremble from the touch, and your thighs close in on his arm. Using the other hand, he gently pulls them apart and leaves three open-mouthed kisses: one on your inner thigh, one on another, and then a final one at the top of your mound. The heat from his nostrils make you full body shiver; suddenly, being the only one completely bare is slightly bothering you.

“Do not cover yourself. I want to see you,” his hand finds your cunt again, a long finger pushing into you ever so slowly, “…want to hear those sweet sounds again.”

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you watch his digit push further into you, the drag of a knuckle against your slick walls aiding in the pleasure. You can’t help but to wince at the intrusion, because shit, this was a lot more than what you were used to—using your fingers, that is.

You also suppose penetration would be off the table considering humans and Na’vi were never meant to mate, but it doesn’t prevent you from fantasizing about it anyway. How big was it? Did he touch himself? Use his hands and picture yours?

The thought of him hunching over, rubbing one out, all slick with sweat and pre has your head all dizzy. Your mouth is practically salivating at the mental image you’ve conjured up in your head of him fucking your face, but you know it would never fit. There really are evil forces conspiring against you…

Neteyam’s finger reaching the hilt brings you back down to reality. A forceful thrust that coaxes you to gasp sharply and grab his forearm. After patiently waiting for you to adjust to his size, he begins to move. He sets a steady rhythm, pulling out slowly, then pushing back into you with the same velocity.

Eventually, his movements become less hesitated, and more calculated. Instead of steady and slow, he begins increasing the pace of his thrusts, then graduates from speed to incorporating force.

Every delve of his finger, every deliberate drag and prod has fire pooling in the depths of your belly. Squelches and whimpers ricochet off of the metal walls, and fuck, his dick won’t stop twitching.

It’s grown considerably harder in these past few minutes, and all from just hearing you vocalize your pleasure. When the stretch stops feeling like a stretch, and starts feeling like a ‘give me more’, that’s when you encourage him to add another. And of course, he indulges you.

The same time he pushes another finger in, is the same time he starts rubbing himself. He’s not even really aware of it at first, it’s mindless. He’s just so entranced by you, and the sounds you’re making, the things you’re saying, the way your cunt’s sucking in his fingers—

Fuck. He just finished all over himself. He doesn’t let that deter him though, keeps fingering you through his post-orgasm, taking care of you until you come undone on his fingers.

And the sight is amazing, he can’t stop gawking at the way your hole flutters around him, and the nectar-like liquid that drips down the length of his fingers and onto the bed. He wants to taste it.

“Can I taste you?” he asks. You’re in such a daze that the question doesn’t even register, suddenly too preoccupied with breathing like you’ve forgotten how to.

“Huh? Wha—ohhhh.” His tongue licks a long stripe up your slit. He concentrates the tip at the bottom, lapping at the essence that leaks from there, and then circles back to your puffy bud. Experimentally, he prods it with his fingers, rubbing it in tantalizingly slow circles.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers almost feel overwhelming, you feel like a puppet on a marionette with the way he’s maneuvering your legs around for better access. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was a starved man.

His mouth is slick with drool, and his hands are pressing down so firmly onto your thighs, that you’re sure a handprint will be there for you to discover in the morning. His tongue feels so good on you, so nasty.

The picture is obscene, unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed before. But the thing that’s really getting to you are the sounds he’s making. Grunts and groans, expletives and mumbles. ‘So good’, ‘perfect’, ‘beautiful’…it has your head spinning and your fists gripping for the sheets beneath you.

There’s a knot in your abdomen pulled taut like a string of twine. You can feel it twisting and pulling, ready to come undone at the drop of a pin. The more he works on your slit, the more the temperature rises in the shack.

Was the room always spinning? Did your body always run this hot? It feels like you’ve been thrown into a furnace, and the only source of coolness is the wetness that his tongue provides.

“‘M gonna, mmf, ’s too much!” you jab at his hand in an attempt to push him away. He’s relentless though, still sucking harshly, and teasing, ramming his thick fingers up against your gummy walls.

It feels different than when you touch yourself, more intense. Like something’s sitting heavy on your bladder. Then, snap. The string in your abdomen unravels, bringing forth a flood of ecstasy.

“’Teyam!” you sob, back arching to the ceiling. When he pulls his fingers out, a stream of clear liquid seeps from your cunt. He’s awestruck, staring in admiration as your sweat kissed chest rises and falls rhythmically.

“Look, your legs are shaking,” he points, biting down a laugh, “why are they shaking?”

“Oh my god, shut up!” you feign offense, pushing him backwards with a chuckle. He pretends to be wounded, rubbing his back dramatically, ‘oohing’ and ‘owing’ as he does so. When you finally sit up, your eyes naturally fall to his loincloth, a wet ringlet contrasting starkly against the beige textile.

“Hey…” your voice is hesitant, but teetering on the edge of curiosity, “Can I try something?”

The boy silently nods his approval, shifting his position on the ground when you amble over to him. A look of confusion molds onto his face following the events that involve you plopping down onto his lap and laying him down. He goes to speak but you interrupt him.

“Your turn, right? Can’t put it in, but…I can still make you feel good,” you say, tugging on the piece of fabric that separates your sex from his. Eagerly, he removes it for you and lets the item fall haphazardly to the ground.

It’s big, so big—and pretty too. A beautiful blue hue that matches the rest of his body, paired along with a blushing teal tip that’s oozing pre. You want to know what he tastes like on your tongue…

“So pretty.”

Heat rises to his cheeks, and his tail takes an aquiline form, quivering in rapid movements. His usual, over-confident disposition was slowly dissipating under your intense gaze, and you reveled in it by mocking his bashfulness.

“Awe, the little kitty’s shy,” you mock, tickling his side.

“Stop it, I don’t look like those Earth things,” he laughs, pushing your hand away, but to no avail. You continue to dodge his attempts to stop you, tickling him here and there until he accidentally bucks and pulls you down against him. Embarrassingly, you let a whine fall from your lips…still too sensitive down there, you guess.

There’s a shit-eating grin plastered on his face now, you hate it. “Who’s making noises like a kitty now, huh?” With this, he takes the liberty to do it again, pressing you down hard against his length.

The feeling of your bare cunt against him is electrifying, probably (definitely) not better than him being inside you, but the next best thing. This was supposed to be your thanks to him. But now he’s taken full charge—maneuvering you back and forth, gripping and kneading—it’s cruel.

For someone who’s never mated with anyone in his life, he’s sure moving you around like he has. His hands are all over you—thighs, hips, waist, breasts, it’s almost overwhelming. Every touch, addled with the buck of hips, brings forth a new sensation that is better than the last. You think this would be a good way to go out, right on his cock. One last hurrah before the morbid inevitable.

“You f-feel so good, (your name),” his voice is breathy, “r-really good.” Neteyam’s grip on your arms is vice, partly because he can feel his climax approaching, but mostly because he can tell you’re growing tired.

Swiftly, he changes your positions to where you’re laying on your back and he’s crouching over you. The tip of his head smoothes over your folds when he pushes up, and before he draws back, you can see just about where his dick would rest if he were inside of you.

“I’d be all the way up here,” he presses down just beneath your breastbone, “you’re so tiny.” It sounds so dirty, but you know ultimately he’s just making an observation—regardless, the comment has your stomach churning in excitement.

The both of you watch in fascination as he sheathes himself up and over your cunt, moaning in unison when the tip of his mushroomy head catches against your bud. Euphoric, he thinks. He never imagined that something could feel this good, let alone without connecting bonds.

Still sensitive from earlier, it doesn’t take too long for you to reach your peak. Neteyam knows that your arrhythmic breathing is a tell-tale sign, and he helps you get there by cooing words of encouragement.

He goes back and forth between ’I got you’s and ‘it’s okay’s, leaving trails of kisses down your body in his wake. The second you finish, you’re pulling him down onto you tight. Moaning and whining into his ear, whispering those same words of encouragement that he whispered to you prior.

“So good, ‘Teyam,” you claw at his back, “keep going, want you to feel good too.” And he does. Unrelenting in his attack against your sex, he comes with a few more pistons.

You eagerly welcome him into your arms when he drops from exhaustion, and hold him there until your erratic breaths synchronize. The both of you are disgustingly sweaty and sticky, but even so, you feel at peace.

You bask in the tranquil quietness of the night, just staring at each other. Soft caresses and soothing hums. Then, Neteyam speaks.

“On this fateful night, two hearts danced…” he whispers, grabbing your hand to hold it over his heart.

“What does this mean?” you smile at him. He ponders over it and then explains.

“My songcord…I want to tell this story,” he starts, “the night when two hearts became one.”

A crystal droplet cascades down your face, “that sounds beautiful.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam sully x reader smut #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x reader smut #avatar x reader #avatar x reader smut #neteyam smut #avatar the way of water #atwow #awow #avatar smut #avatar the way of water smut

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wandasfifthwife · 13 days

Text

your jealousy is showing (on me)✩‧₊˚

—> hockey player/coach!wanda x afab!reader

tw || SMUT MDNI, top wanda x bottom reader, dom/sub dynamics, established relationship, jealous wanda, exhibition (janitor closet), marking/impact play (hickeys, bruises, thigh spanking), fingering (r receiving), r gets hit on but is oblivious, tyler mention!, reader is said to be wearing a dress, person who hits on r sees the two of them, not proofread!

a/n || in such a slut for this woman. so sorry if my writing is nastier than coconut, idk how I feel about it haha but I hope you enjoy bc this made me hot and bothered tbh

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

Practice has been going well, better even. There’s been an increase in number since people started to find out that wanda has experience on the ice as a player on a professional team. The stands have become packed, families and friends taking up every corner, a completely contrast from before. You remember the days when you first came with your nephew, sitting and having a seven feet distance from another person. Tyler’s since graduated from wanda’s class, now attending another with a different coach.

It was a sad day for him, hugging your girlfriend tight and exclaiming how he wishes to have her as a coach for every class. She had laughed, resting a hand on his back and reassured him that she’ll attend his other classes. She even went as far as to mention private classes, saying they can spend time together on the ice. A smile had come upon your face as you watched the two interact, thankful your nephew is able to have such a wonderful relation with his coach, your girlfriend.

Since then you’ve been attending his classes with Wanda. You can’t help yourself, curling a hand through her arm to hold her close. You complain that it’s the cold, but you both know it’s a shit excuse. Regardless, she’s never going to turn you down, if anything she’s pulling you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head.

“He’s improved a lot. Lately he’s been practicing outside his house with some friends on the street.”

“That’s probably the only reason why he’s able to skate in a straight row now. Do you think he’ll continue to play?”

“I think so. It’s all he talks about, but of course we can’t say definitive terms. He could fall out of love with it in a year and choose like baseball.”

“If he were to choose another sport it’d be football, not baseball. His favorite part of hockey is running into others, he forgets there’s an actual game going on.”

You stifle a laugh, “he’s trying.”

He proved Wanda’s words to be correct because the next second he’s slamming into one of the team members, pummeling the two into the wall. The coach had come to talk to you after, seeking you where you stood by the concession stand. You had a hand on Wanda’s arm, informing her of where you’ll be.

You were paying for the snack, thanking the person behind the counter. He had stood behind you just out of your line of sight, so just enough that you ran into him when turning around. His shirt smelled of sweat and his cologne, a lot of his cologne, so much so it overwhelmed you.

“Hey, you’re tyler’s mom, right?”

“No, just his aunt.”

“My bad. Sorry that was terribly rude of me, I was going to say you look good for your age.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“Of course,” he flashes a smile, leaning onto one of the tables beside him, “I’ve notice how often you come, it’s great that you’re supporting him like this. Most kid’s don’t have such a supportive aunt.”

“I try. My brother and his wife are busy, so I take over. He’s means well but he’s still a young teen.”

“Yes. He’s nothing new. A lot of teens enjoy the physical aspect to the game, it’s normal for them to be competitive even with each other.”

A few minutes have gone by, enough time for concern to begin swirling through Wanda’s mind. She’s relieved to see you’ve not gone missing and that you’re all in one piece, standing only a few feet from her.

“That’s my coach,” Tyler starts, seeing how Wanda’s attention was directed at the tow of you.

“I know,” she deadpans, turning her attention back on your nephew, “finish untying your shoes.”

“I know,” he mimics, tone lowering to frustrate her further.

You’re walking back over with a grin plastered on your face. Tyler’s already grabbing at the drink you got, pulling it from your hands to open it already.

“Just talked with your new coach, Tyler. It seems you have a track record with finding amazing coaches.”

Already Wanda didn’t like him. She kept quiet about her disdain, knowing how important it was to you that Tyler doesn’t come to contact with a terrible one as you had.

It grew difficult. Each practice he always seemed to find you, drawing out a long conversation with you. Usually it’s fine, as a coach herself she understands the important of keeping up with the families, but this was excessive. The constant parade of compliments directed at you were unnecessary. He wouldn’t really care to talk to Tyler, and as far as she knew, Wanda didn’t exist around him. He’s either dumb, or he’s choosing to be ignorant towards the intimacy between you two.

What brought her to the edge was when he began to touch you, a hand on your shoulder or the back of your waist. It was in moments where it could’ve been excused; done to either move you out of the way or make sure you don’t trip.

You were sweet, engaging in a conversation he had started yet again down at the end of the bleachers. Wanda had her attention set on Tyler skating around before practice, eyes flickering to where the two of you stood every minute.

“I have a conference this weekend and we’re allowed to bring a plus one. Would you be interested in joining me?”

“Oh. I already have someone that I’m going with. So I won’t be going with you, but I will see you there.”

He looks disappointed, eyes shooting to meet Wanda’s, “I’ll see you there then.”

Wanda doesn’t like that man.

You walk up the stairs all sweet-like, sitting beside her and placing a kiss to her cheek, “when’s that coach award event again?”

“Saturday, 7PM.”

You hum, leaning your head on her shoulder, “you better win an award.”

“If not, I have you.”

An elbow shoves into her side, “you’re such a sap.”

“No, I just love you,” she murmurs, pressing her lips against yours, feeling like she’s won when she catches the coach looking. She had hoped the soft public display of affection would be enough of a sign to back off, but it wasn’t.

The weekend came soon enough. Wanda standing by the door with her keys in hand as she waits for you to join her.

“Beautiful,” she says when you step down, opening the door for you.

“I hope you win one award, that would be amazing.”

“It would look great for my public imagine,”she laughs at the look you give her, “you know I don’t care about that, love.”She gives your thigh a squeeze before backing the car out of her apartment complex.

She should’ve known he’d be stuck to you most of the night. Wanda tries to engage in the conversation, but he tunes her out, keeping his attention on you. Ever so sweet you try to include her, smiling back at her but this time it’s not enough to quell how she’s feeling.

“Hey Micheal, can you go grab her another drink?”

“Wanda, I can’t—“

She shuts you up by pinching at your waist, cutting your sentence off. He looks mildly annoyed, “sure.”Once he’s turned around, she’s guiding you out of the room.

“Wanda there’s only like sixteen minutes until the ceremony—“ your mouth goes numb when you realize where she’s walking you towards. There’s a closet at the end of the hall, tiny and small as its only purpose is to hold supplies for the janitors. Tonight it will be used for another matter.

“That’s enough time,” she says lowly, shutting the door behind her, enclosing the two of you in darkness.

She’s lifting you with her hands under your thighs, dropping you down onto the extra school desk stored away in the room. Her body’s leans into you, hands on either side of your body as she kisses you passionately. They turn messy, trailing from the corner of your lips to end up on the bottom side of your neck. You gasp when she bites down, a hand reaching to push at her chest.

“Wan—wait.”

She doesn’t listen, too focused on making your neck show an array of purple marks. You whine, squirming in her hold as she leaves one after the other, stopping only on areas that you’re sensitive to. She’s severely quiet, attentive to every heavy breath and sound coming from you. You’re weak, arms wrapped around her neck, head pressed into the wall behind you. You’ve completely given up control, neck tilted back to give her more room.

“Oh—” you shiver when she moves towards the spot behind your neck. Your reaction gave her another reason to press her lips against it, nipping at the skin there.

Her ministrations leave you wet, your hips grind down onto the desk below you to try to seek relief. Wanda coos, cold fingers sliding under your dress, finding the wetness between your thighs. You cry out when she thrusts two in, pushing through your tight walls. It’s intoxicating, the wet sounds filling the room, turning you on even more.

“Ah! Wands—you—“

She’s shushing you, lips on yours to keep you quiet. Her fingers are splitting you open, angling perfectly towards the spot that makes your back arch. Her thumb catches onto your clit with each thrust, brushing perfectly to make you see white. You weave your fingers into her hair, moaning into her mouth when she bites at your bottom lip.

You’ve completely forgotten about the event, and most importantly, Michael. You’re clenching onto her finger, arousal covering her hand and dripping onto the wood below you. You choke on a moan when she’s guiding you to lift your left foot onto the desk, the position spreading you open to allow her fingers to push deeper. The bottom of your dress slips up, clothing pooling around your waist. You feel your orgasm build, a series of whimpers spilling from you.

“Fucking say my name when you come,” she demands, holding back moan when she hears your strangled whine after she brought her hand down onto your thigh. The way your cunt squeezes around her fingers then makes her weak.

“Like that?”

She’s cocky, hand coming down harder on that same spot.

“ah! wands please—“

Your body jerks after her fifth slap, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. She nuzzles against your head resting on her shoulder. You relaxed into her hole, breathing heavily as you come down from your high.

It was fine until wanda carried you into the bathrooms to clean off and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, easily spotting the splotches painting your neck.

You leaned over the sink to get a better view, eyes snapping between the marks; the one by your ear, another under the strap of your dress, one more at the base of your neck. You weren’t aware of the severity of her actions in the moment, your mind was too busy trying to deal with the fuzziness spreading throughout your body.

“Was that okay,” she asks from where she stands by the entrance.

“Very,” you mumble, looking back to her with a smile.

“Hey, I want to apologize. I knew something was wrong,” you say, grabbing a paper towel from the machine, “he was a jerk to you. Like just earlier he wasn’t letting you get a word in, but I really just thought he was being nice at first.”

“You’re fine, love.”

You wet the towel, rubbing warm water over the cloth to get it wet, “you say that but I still feel bad.”

She crosses the room to grab at your wrist after seeing what you were doing, “why’re you trying to rub the marks off?”

“Because?”

She raises an eyebrow, “because? What?”

“This is your event, I don’t want you to loose your job over me.”

“I won’t,” she tosses the towel away, “I knew what I was doing when I gave you those.”

“But the staff—“

“There’s enough of them screwing around.”

“Oh.”

She huffs, hooking a finger under the hem of your dress, drawing it up your thigh until the red, swollen marks on your thighs from where she was aiming her hand earlier begin to show. You hate how affected you get by the sight of them, thighs squeezing together.

You were only meant to be gone for ten minutes. That was the original goal, but she began to fold with how you were looking at her. Your eyes were dark, locking onto hers from within the mirror. She had you pinned to the counter in seconds, forcing you to watch how easily you melt under her touch.

Footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, getting closer to where the two of you stood. You had begun to push back, mumbles on how she needs to stop so they don’t get caught, but it’s like she knew. You caught on later, realizing it was Micheal by the sound of his voice calling out to you.

“Wanda, he—“

She’s slapping a hand over your mouth, pulling you back against her chest. You look over your shoulder, finding Micheal freeze after entering into the room. Wanda had you in a position only he could dream of. He was like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he processed what he was looking at. The marks on your body, eyes glossy and faraway even as you look in his direction. The muscles in Wanda’s arm flex as she presses her hand tighter against your mouth. You’re absolutely dripping, excitement pooling from the behavior this man was bringing out of her.

“I was worried… but I see you’re.. okay.”

“I see you’ve met my girlfriend, Micheal?”

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanida m.list

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cheesesoda · 2 months

Text

calling you out based on your favorite triplet!

it’s ya girl back at it again with the call out posts

cw: mentions of mental health issues, sexual trauma, and EDs

nick: if you’re a nick girl/boy/person, i get the feeling you’re the oldest. you sometimes tend to feel sorry for yourself and then you feel bad about feeling sorry for yourself and it becomes a vicious cycle. you probably have either dealt with body image issues or an eating disorder (idk every nick person i’ve met has dealt with that). you’re probably pretty insecure and you constantly compare yourself to all your friends and it’s tearing you apart. you have a hard time accepting compliments because you simply don’t believe them. i think there’s a lot you don’t talk about but then you blame others for your secrecy and feel bad for yourself, as if they just don’t understand. maybe try letting people in and let them have a shot at trying to understand you. you’re not an enigma.

songs you remind me of:

prom queen by beach bunny

not strong enough by boygenius

idontwannabeyouanymore by billie eilish

sippy cup by melanie martinez

orange juice by melanie martinez

tv by billie eilish

matt: if you’re a matt girl/boy/person, you’re probably the quietest one of the group. you possibly grew up without many friends and you often feel left out or unseen. you were the quiet kid and never really talked. you’re very nurturing and you try to take care of all your friends because you want them to know you see them. you’ve most likely dealt with mental health issues (specifically anxiety and/or depression). you tend to overthink a lot and you probably have a lot more to say than you actually say. you were probably the one who walked on the grass, the one who was the photographer but never in the photo, and the one who sat alone at lunch. as a kid, you went unnoticed but now you’re not. as a result, you end up purposely excluding yourself from your current friend group(s) because it’s what you’re used to and then you end up isolating yourself but you don’t realize that you’re doing it to yourself. i hope you’ll see that people do notice you and they do care about you. you’re not invisible.

songs that remind me of you:

the archer by taylor swift

chosen last by sara keys

letter to my 13 year old self by laufey

nobody by mitski

afraid by the neighbourhood

everything i wanted by billie eilish

chris: if you’re a chris girl/boy/person, i think you grew up too quickly. you probably had to start looking out for yourself at way too young of an age and now you have a hard time accepting nurturing and loving treatment. i get the feeling that you were sexualized from a young age too and you probably have some sexual trauma. as a result, you act hypersexual because it’s what you’ve been made to believe you’re supposed to be. people don’t take you seriously, probably because you are the funny one or the pretty one but you’re actually very observant and analytical. you notice things most people don’t. you’ve often been the butt of the joke in the friend group so now you make fun of everyone else before they can make fun of you. you might come off as mean but i think you’re just scared of being vulnerable. you definitely have commitment issues which probably stems from your childhood trauma (including but not limited to family issues). you end up getting yourself into dangerous or unhealthy or self destructive situations because it’s what you’re used to and you think it’s what people expect from you. you don’t have to follow your self fulfilled prophecy. you don’t have to be what others tell you that you are.

songs that remind me of you:

goddess by laufey

labyrinth by taylor swift

safeword by tv girl

don’t miss me by claire rosinkranz

brand new city by mitski

first love/late spring by mitski

#cheesesodaspeaks #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets

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yourpsicodelicbitch · 5 months

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short asteroid observations

nhidi

*whole sign + tropical

Cupido (763) 9H says you are attracted to someone you can learn a lot from, someone foreign, not necessarily in an obvious way but when’s about different perspective/mindset. also you could not fall easily? They have to look/think “different”. you could like dorks. you want to be understood, to debate.

Aphrodite (1388) 8H have this desire of being taken care of, to everyone be obsessed with them and they are but people it’s too scared and intimidated by their strong and mysterious aura, so they’re likely to be the goddess who seems unapproachable/too good to be true. they could feel lonely bc of these and they LOVE the power and influence they have on others.

Luda (1158) at 12° (pisces degree)/trine neptune are recognized by being artsy, in their own world, kind of hippie or full of creativity/imagination and with other world perspectives. I have these placement + aspect and EVERY TIME, people from every age recognize/identify me as the characteristics I mentioned. They have asked me if my family it’s full of artists bc I have that “vibe”. Asteroid “Luda” means “love of the people”, and being love by people could be interpreted as recognized -my interpretation-.

Narcissus (37117) conjunct Mercury could mean being too self absorbed about your mindset and opinions, “thinking your way of thinking is too good to be true”. I don’t really think narcissus have this effect permanently-duh😝-, it shows how at some point you are like this. you could have difficulties listening to others perspectives that can help you. you could have serious problems of trying to understand others, in this life you’ll have to learn no one thinks like you, even though your you from a moment ago, I don’t think they’ll think the same or etc., so don’t explode your mind trying so hard to have an answer on why others aren’t/think like you bc they won’t. also, your mindset it’s not correct or perfect so don’t frustrate about stuff you can’t control.

Bellona (28) trine ascendant, again, can tell people thought you were a total bitch -when they didn’t know you-, if they get in your way you’ll fuck them up without a doubt. I’m proud to say it’s not only appearance or supposition, once they know you they’ll still say you’ll fuck them up equally. Bellona is about someone who isn’t afraid of standing up for what they believe.

I was wondering why lately I’ve been so obsessed with this guy, then I checked my composite chart with him and saw Lovelock (51663) 12H. So practically it could signify this is a past life situation and I can’t fucking let go. I’m so tired 😭 idgaf if he’s obsessed with me, I want action and he’s not giving it and I’m afraid to be the one starting it -it’s different with guys and bc of him? idk 😒-. I feel stuck. HELP. also is conjunct Chiron so I have to learn about it? DONT. Chiron give me a break, no, I’m joking, I’m saying nothing. 12H means it’s gonna hit in a subconscious level…and it’s gonna be a secret?😭 -I don’t want to believe this-, so neither of us is gonna do something? FUCK

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡ (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#astrology #astro observations #pinterest #astro posts #astro placements #astro notes #asteroids #asteroid astrology #birth chart #asteroid cupido #aphrodite #asteroid luda #narcissus #asteroid bellona #asteroid lovelock #mercury #neptune #ascendant #aspects

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haddonfieldwhore · 5 months

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i don’t dance - matthew tkachuk

matthew tkachuk x fem!reader

summary: while on a road trip with your best friend, he shows you around calgary, including his favourite country bar

warnings: drinking, language, nsfw themes/implied smut, i’ve been thinking about cowboy matt a lot lately, idk how to line dance so i apologize in advance

word count: 1.9k yeehaw matt playlist 🎧

“matty, you’re joking right?” you pleaded hopefully, looking at your best friend who stood before you, a black cowboy hat atop his head.

“you know what they say - when in…calgary,” he replied with a toothy grin.

“i think the phrase is ‘when in rome, genius,” you both laughed. but you were not in rome, you were in calgary alberta, and matthew had spent his entire day off showing you around the city he spent so many years calling home. you knew matt had loved his time with the flames, but florida was home now; and he was off to a great start with the panthers, as well as enjoying the warm weather.

you and the tkachuks had grown up down the street from eachother in st.louis, and while you were closer to his sisters age, you had always been closest with matthew. you had visited him in calgary a few times, but hadn’t spent a ton of time there while he lived there. when he told you he was moving to florida, you went with him, tired of being so far away from your best friend.

“it’s a country bar, i have to dress the part,” he argued. matty had shown you the arena, the house where he had lived when he was with the flames, and various landmarks around the city. the final stop on your tour was a bar that he insisted on dragging you to, despite your known aversion for country music.

“i’m not really sure it’s my scene,” you sighed, looking through your suitcase for anything remotely appropriate to wear tonight. it was surprisingly warm out despite being late in the evening, so you settled on some cutoff denim shorts and a tight, low cut t-shirt that showed off your cleavage. you got dressed in the bathroom of the hotel room you and matt were sharing, a little nervous as you looked at yourself in the mirror. over the years you had developed a small crush on the curly haired boy you had known for so long; and you secretly hoped he thought you looked hot as you adjusted your shorts one more time before heading back out.

“is this okay?” you asked, the way matthews breath caught in his throat as he turned around going unnoticed. his eyes traveled up your bare legs and over your chest before meeting your gaze, giving you a smile and hoping you hadn’t realized he was checking you out.

“you look great,” he smiled, and you felt a bit relieved. “now if you had some cowboy boots-“

“no way in hell. not even you could get me to wear those, matty. nice try though,” you laughed, pushing his chest softly as you walked by to put in you shoes. he silently wondered what you had meant by ‘not even you’, but didn’t question it, instead grabbing his red flannel shirt and throwing it in over his tshirt before following you out the door, trying not to think about how good your ass looked in those tiny shorts. maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, he thought.

•

to say you were nervous walking into the bar was an understatement, and while you had tried your best to dress the part, you were worried you would stick out like a sore thumb. you slid your hand into matthews, and his heart skipped a beat as he pulled you behind him into the building, and towards an empty table in the back. it wasn’t too busy thankfully, but there were some people dancing already, the sound of boots on the floor mixing with the music and chatter.

“relax, why are you so nervous?” he laughed at you from across the table, reaching his hand across the table to stop yours from shaking as they sat atop the wooden surface.

“i don’t know, i just feel out of place,” you admitted.

“just breathe. you know i won’t let anything happen to you,” he smiled, amused by how nervous you were over something so small. your heart skipped a beat, and you hoped you weren’t blushing too much; but who could blame you if you were, hearing something like that.

after you and matthew each finished a few beers and the bar filled up with more people, you felt surprisingly relaxed. what was not relaxing, however, was the way your breathing stopped everytime matt’s leg brushed against yours under the table; and you weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or not.

“do you trust me?” he asked suddenly, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as the corner of his mouth curled upward. you nearly choked on your drink as he glanced over at the dance floor.

“not when you look at me like that,” you admitted, but let him take your hand in his and pull you into the floor. “matty i have no idea how to dance- nevermind this kind of dancing.”

“it’s easy. if i can do it, anyone can,” he smiled. you were thankful to be off to the side of the dancefloor, with little chance of running into anyone as matt’s hands landed on your hips, his fingertips cold as they brushed against your skin where you shirt had ridden up slightly.

his breath was hot on your shoulder and he stood behind you, guiding your body forward to the music.

“you just step like this, and then to the side, tap your feet together, then step back,” he instructed, showing you slowly what to do, before the two of you repeated the steps together. “and then, when you step back this time, you can add a spin.”

your hands landed on his chest as he spun you around, and his arms circled your waist as you looked up at him. his blue eyes seemed darker thank usual as he stared down at you, but maybe it was just the shadow from his hat. did he always smell this good? you asked yourself, the close proximity allowing the scent of his cologne to reach your nose, and maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but he smelled like heaven.

“think you’ve got it?” he asked under his breath, both of you unable to break the eye contact.

“no,” you muttered. “show me again,” you requested, turning around and placing his hands back on your hips, sliding his fingertips ever so slightly into the waistband of your shorts.

“fuck,” he breathed out, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it; but you did. matt walked you through the steps again, this time leaving no space between the two of you, allowing you to feel him pressing against your backside the whole time. he spun you around, this time pulling you flush against him as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, your lips just centimetres apart.

“now what?” you asked, barely above a whisper as your chest rose and fell, the room suddenly feeling very warm.

“kiss me,” he requested, his eyes half lidded as your leaned up to capture his lips with your own. your mouths moved together, his tongue running along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth as he held you tight. he groaned as you tugged at the curls that peeked out from beneath his hat at the base of his neck, before you both separated to catch your breath.

“do you teach all your dance partners that part or is that just me?”

“god, just you,” the words melted off his tongue as he kissed you again, biting at your bottom lip gently. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to kiss you.”

“maybe as long as i’ve wanted you to?”

“i don’t know - is that a long time?”

“yeah,” you breathed out as he kissed your neck. “matty-“ the words caught in your throat, your train of thought lost as you realized he had defiantly left a hickey below your jawline.

“do you have any idea how hot you look in those shorts? the light bouncing of your skin?” he whispered.

“i wore them for you,” you replied, suprised at the confidence you were finding. things were always easy with matthew, your friendship coming so naturally; you had a bond that nothing could ruin.

“jesus, you’re gonna get me into trouble.”

“why’s that?” you asked, looking up at him, barring your eyelashes innocently.

“because we’re in public right now, and i’m finding it really difficult to not rip those fucking shorts off you right here,” he admitted, his voice low.

“so take me home.” his eyes closed for a second, before he grabbed your hand and walked you back to your table of empty bottles and threw enough cash on the table to cover the tab three times. you couldn’t hide the smile on your flushed face as he dragged you out of the bar, his other hand calling an uber with his phone.

•

matthews leg shook the entire ride back to the hotel, which while in reality was only about ten minutes, felt like about three hours. his hand rested on you thigh, his calloused fingertips tracing little shapes on your skin. while still being careful not to hurt your wrist, he pulled you quickly out of the car after paying the driver and his lips were on yours the second the elevator door closed.

“matty, someone could come in any second-“

“don’t tempt me, i’ll hit the panic button and stop this damn thing-“ he nearly growled, his teeth nipping at the skin below your ear.

“relax, baby - we’re almost there,” you murmured, but silently wished that the elevator would speed up. the two of you stumbled down the hall to the doorway, matt unable to keep his hands off you the whole time, pinning you against the door as he fumbled in his pocket for the key card.

“you’re making it really hard to focus right now….” he groaned as you left a trail of kisses up the side of his neck, the door finally opening behind you and allowing matthew to push you backwards into the suite.

“is that the only thing i’m making hard?“ you asked, palming his length through his jeans that had become significantly tighter, and he nearly whimpered at your touch. usually it would take more to get that kind of reaction out of him, but you had an effect on him like no one else ever would.

“don’t tease-“ you interrupted him by connecting your lips again, trailing your hands up his chest and sliding the flannel shirt off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. his hands slid under your t-shirt and pulled it over your head. he took his hat off and placed it atop your head before attaching his lips to your collarbone, his hands reaching down to undo your shorts.

“you want this, right?” he said, his hands pausing as his eyes met yours, both of you breathing heavily.

“please, matty-“ you pulled his pelvis against yours by his belt loops and he groaned, his head falling back as his eyes closed and his mouth fell open slightly. “i need you.”

you helped eachother out of the rest of your clothes, tumbling to the bed with your lips still connected, hands wandering all over. you rolled on top of matt, straddling his lap as you admired how messy his curls had gotten from your hands tangling in his hair.

“what’s that song called again? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you teased, and he smiled, sitting up and holding you in his lap, placing a kiss on your lips.

“i thought you didn’t listen to country music?” he smirked, adjusting the cowboy hat that still sat on your head.

“i’ve heard one or two songs in my lifetime,” you smiled as he kissed you deeply, tossing the hat aside as he rolled on top of you.

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

#matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl players #hockey fic #hockey #florida panthers #calgary flames #real person fiction

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radjoy · 2 years

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Idk where I’m going with this, but:

Women generally live longer than men.

When you get married, you should love someone enough to care for them in their old age.

Because of 1, though, 95% of the time, it’s the husband whose health leaves first, and the wife spends her last years of decent health taking care of him - unable to go on vacations because he needs her, keeping track of his meds/drs appointments/meals, waiting on him hand and foot.

He dies. Then her health goes. And it’s no more lifetime-marriage-partner caring, it’s whatever home health aid the kids could hire. Nobody is making sure she gets to water aerobics and making her appointments for her, nobody is preparing her favorite dish just the way she likes it,

I volunteer at a senior center that has both “outpatient” style water aerobics/chair yoga/bridge clubs/social shit that local seniors still living on their own can attend, plus an assisted living community.

I constantly see the same progression: ailing husband is dragged to the classes and social hours, complaining the whole time. They meet with the assisted living groups. Wife talks about how nice it would be to live here, how hard it is keeping up their house, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone bring you your meds and drive you to the grocery store. Husband insists they don’t need it, but he also seems to need his wife to get up and get everything for him. Wife mentions that she wanted to fly out and see their grandchildren, but her husband needs her, and hiring a temporary aid won’t work because he has to have everything just so. Rinse and repeat, until:

Husband dies, wife gets maybe a year before she moves into retirement home.

I used to think this was just by happenstance, but then we got this older couple. From what the nurses said, they were both pretty big boozehounds, and their health had never really been a priority, so they had to move in earlier than we usually get patients.

I was eavesdropping on their adult kids, who were moving them in, and I heard them complaining that they had to do this. The couple was selling their house, and their son had wanted it, and their daughter was annoyed at how much this was going to cost. No big, we hear a lot of people who get annoyed watching their inheritance dwindle. But then the son goes: “You know, mom is five years younger than him. If she had taken care of herself, she would’ve been able to take care of him.”

And I was like, oh! So mom has to spend her life abstaining from alcohol and getting in 30 minutes of exercise per day, not so that she can take better care of herself and live longer for her, but because you were counting on her to play nursemaid for dad! And suddenly, this seemed a lot less like happenstance that occurred because women live longer than men. It seemed to be a deliberate part of patriarchy.

There’s one couple that moved in when they first started needing help around the house - most people move in as late as they possibly can. But the wife used to work as a home health aid, and she saw how it becomes more and more of the wife’s responsibility, and she didn’t want to put up with it. And her husband is kind of crotchety and grumpy, but they seem to have the best relationship I’ve seen - maybe if only because she can turn off her hearing aids and let us deal with him.

#what I’m saying is budget for help #radical feminism #radfem

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the-floral-perspective · 2 months

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Let’s talk for a second

To be clear, there’s some ideas I’ve heard of around the fandom that I want to clear up.

1. Ben Drowned is not 12, he just died when he was 12. I don’t know why some of the fandom still thinks he is when he’d be around 18-19 as of 2024. Yes, he still ages despite being a spirit (the same way that other pastas do as well)

2. The creepypastas are more than just their trauma and mental illness (while both do take up a lot of their personality.) all of them are equally interesting and distinct, their illnesses only add to their complexity. They don’t take away from it or get watered down just cause they’re mentally ill (and if you view it that way than you should educate yourself on mental illness rather than pay attention to what people tell you online.)

3. I’d like to add that I am not a creep. I’m also a minor too. I’ve had 2 people suggest that the people (particularly Ben) I write about is weird, but like I listed above Ben is not a minor. Neither are the rest of the pastas. Most of them died or disappeared around the ages 12-18, ALL OF THEM have grown from the age their stories take place.

4. That’s mostly it, but basically just don’t believe everything you see on TikTok. Make sure you know what you’re talking about before saying stuff because it can piss people off or cause discourse that no one really wants to deal with. Lastly, I’m sorry if I came across as harsh in this post, my intention is to educate not to create tension.

Anyways, I hope you guys have a Good Friday! Idk when I’ll start writing again, I’ve been pretty busy lately. Toodles!

#creepypasta #eyeless jack #ben drowned #dr smiley #homicidal liu #jeff the killer #puppeteer #ticci toby #creepypasta au #creepypasta family #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta community

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survivalove · 6 months

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Thinking about why I like Kataang so much

so a lot of my posts/asks lately have been about things I dislike so I decided to balance it out by talking about something I actually do like! ofc I immediately thought of kataang and started thing about why i like them so much compared to other couples in media I watched growing up.

first thing is, I don’t actually like romance in visual media. I much prefer it in books but having to actually watch it gives me the ick idk why. also when i first watched atla I was like 5, so the romance really had no appeal to me and I was super focused on katara and the other girls on the show because they were girls! i would completely block out the boys and all the ship scenes for years after that because my attitude to romance never really changed.

right up until I was about 11/12 and became aware of romance from hearing people my age start to talk about crushes, boyfriends/girlfriends, kissing etc. suddenly I had entered this phase in real life where romance was suddenly relevant among my peers and this made me start paying attention when it played out in the shows I was watching like Hannah Montana, Wizards of Waverly Place, etc. this also included ATLA as my dad and I would rewatch it together on DVD throughout the year.

as I watched with my katara blinders, like I always do, for the first time I started to notice the boys in the show, particularly aang, (yes I finally started focusing on the main character after 6 years 😭) and certain interactions katara had with him that I never noticed before.

*dramatic pause*

and the way I consumed media would never be the same.

jk, but really tho.

fast forward to now, and I’ve recently started watching anime after consuming a bunch of western media my whole life from cartoons and disney shows to contemporary literature and Y/A movies/TV shows. and one thing that stands out to me with kataang compared to most of the romance i see in shonen animes (one of atla’s biggest inspiration as a TV show) is the way katara and aang develop in a way that is realistic, yet too good to be true.

let me elaborate:

starting from the very first episode, katara and aang have that classic meet-cute interaction. the music is playing, their eyes are widening, aang’s acting like he’s never seen a girl before and katara is impressed by literally every single thing he does. this is pretty much how every ship is set up, anime or otherwise, and kanna basically spells out their imminent connection when she sends katara and sokka off and sokka even explicitly says the word boyfriend seconds before that. obviously, these two characters are gonna get together at some point and it’s just a matter of when.

this is where it gets more than that:

the more katara and aang spend time together, the more they start to get on each other’s nerves.

I’m sure everyone’s had a crush at some point, where you see someone for the first time and go “oh they’re so cute” and you feel the butterflies blah blah. you either fantasize about them for a while and move on, or you pursue the crush and start to actively make moves to get to know them better.

and as you get to know them, you notice some things about them that kinda piss you off. the way they pick their nose, the way they bounce their knee, the way they chew. it’s always something. it can even affect friendships because that’s life. we are humans, not concepts. no one is perfect, there is nobody on this planet that you will 100% agree with or like about them. it just doesn’t work like that. and for some relationships, there is that one irritating thing about them that breaks the camel’s back and it doesn’t work out. you learn what annoys you and move on to the next relationship. or you have the lucky ones who actually stay together and the relationship continues to blossom as you get to know each other better.

similarly, kataang in the beginning are completely enamored with the other. until they’re not. throughout season 1, we see katara becoming more and more disillusioned with aang going from “aang’s so brave. he’s the avatar!” to realizing he’s just a boy with insecurities and flaws just like her. some of which get on her nerves BAD. similarly, aang goes from trying to impress katara and going along with every single plan she has, to disagreeing with her and even getting annoyed by her as the seasons go on.

despite this, it doesn’t stop that thing they have for each other from growing and flourishing. that is the magic part. watching two characters fall in love as they continue to annoy and irritate each other more and more. the more katara and aang butt heads throughout the seasons, the more and more unambiguous their romantic interactions become.

aang bluntly telling katara she’s not funny like he didn’t just ask her to dance with him in a candlelit cave in front of dozens of people a few days ago? katara constantly getting annoyed at aang’s antics to turn around and ask him for his opinion on the way she looks or kiss him on the cheek? right.

this is what makes them stand out from other fictional couples I’ve seen, where the girl and guy’s opinion on the other never changes significantly from that first interaction they have. one person, usually the girl because of course, worships the ground our main character walks on, meanwhile he seems to barely notice her apart from that first scene where she looked pretty and his jaw dropped or something. and even if they do interact a lot, their dynamic hardly evolves from that initial setup. they never get upset with each other or at the least, visibly annoyed. their dynamic is static, stagnant, mostly affected by major events in the plot rather than personal characteristics and minor misgivings the characters may have.

there’s no juice. it’s stale. and for me, very unrealistic.

I was watching this video about writing couples in media and one comment stood out to me in particular:

What you said about charm is so true. Entertaining chemistry to watch ≠ chemistry that pairs people together. A lot of sitcoms try to pair opposites romantically or as best friends, because opposites are good for comedy and conflict, but I find myself not understanding why they’re so into each other.

instantly i was reminded of the way people call kataang vanilla/boring, in favor of pairings that are far less similar. and while katara and aang do fight a lot, fundamentally they are very similar which is why they are so believable and realistic. I love watching them slowly become disillusioned with the idealized version of each other they had in the first episode to seeing all the ways they manage to piss each other off, and still being drawn by that initial mutual attraction.

katara learns the hard way that aang isn’t the infallible savior from her grandma’s stories, but she never stops believing in him. aang comes to discover katara’s flaws and conflicting opinions, but he still encourages her belief in hope, affirms her as a waterbender/healer and yes still calls her beautiful every chance he gets.

and what I love about this, is, it gives them reasons to fall in love that go beyond the superficial reasons that drew them towards each other in the first place.

they don’t fall in love with each other in spite of those little minor flaws, but because of them.

katara doesn’t love aang because he’s the avatar. she loves him because he is the goofy fun boy that allowed her to be a kid while taking up this heavy responsibility. aang doesn’t love katara because she’s beautiful. he falls in love witnessing those moments of her being determined, speak up for herself and others, and even going to great lengths to inspire hope in everyone she meets.

#atla #kataang #katara #aang #whoa this is long #my bad #too tired to add pics lol

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bluebellthesponge · 6 months

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ottiliere · 6 months

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hello! ur posts on the vagus nerve and its connections to digestions have encouraged me to do a lil mini dissertation thingy kinda focused on it/around it, ur big thread on PVT and everything really piqued my interest when i read it and i just held onto it for like a year or smthing until like last week when i started the project. Ik u said recently in one of ur posts i believe that ur not going to post the big dirk PVT post and im not here to be like yo post it because i also think u said that ur kinda moving away from like hs/dirky stuff rn ?? (im forgetting if i saw that sorry) but yeah i just wanted to say thank u etc etc, like ive never done an ask before so sorry if this is phrased weirdly but ur blog is just like one of those blogs that fundamentally changed how i view certain things in life for the better lol, like whether its ur beautiful representations / depictions of mental health in like just beautifully painted art (seriously the way u make it look like idk how to word it cartoony/really 2d but then it stands out against the background + if u zoom in and see the tiny pixel details == it makes me mad) or just like the huggeee long form posts that i like to chew on and save cuz theres so many details that AFFAAT like the way you talk abt the topics u portray has made me concious of how i would want to do so in the same way ig u get me. anyway this got really long and idk if i come across coherently, but ur just a random person on the internet whos art and written thoughts that u decide to share makes me happy when i see it == makes me pace around my room and distract me from this fat essay lmao so tldr: i really appreciate what u do + i hope like that ur doing well and that u keep arting and thoughting no matter what it is that u choose to focus on

(uve made me comitted to reading jthm, playing psychonauts and giving jjba w/ dio another go lmao) 🫶🫶

Hello! I’m sorry this reply is coming so late, this ask in particular is very sweet and has stuck out to me.

I’m really happy to have introduced you to PVT, this is something I’ve heard from a few different people on here and it’s very sweet… I did my thesis on it in college and the time really flew by while working on it, things you don't think could possibly attributed to "nerve issues" being nerve issues is always an eye-opener, isn't it? being able to research things that interest you & access information in general really is a privilege in this day and age.

“The topics [I] portray” are very important to me, so it’s heartening when others take interest in spite of the obvious deterrents. A lot of what I love making art about is unpalatable to most, and while I do understand the reasons for that on principle, it can make things feel a little insular. I genuinely believe there’s a lot of value in depicting tableaus of misery.

The last year has brought a lot of very unforeseen changes, and my life is quite different from when I initially made this blog to post about him! That’s also part of why I’ve been so sparse here…though I’m working to change that quite soon. I love sharing my work, and I’ve had the privilege of meeting some truly wonderful people through this website. That said…with where I’m at now, I’m not sure I’ll be posting the Dirk essay anytime soon, I’m afraid.

I’ve undertaken a few ongoing projects, one of which in particular is an original project I plan on sharing publicly here hopefully within the next month or so. I hope it’s something you & anyone else who’s stuck around with me here will enjoy, but failing that, I’ve really enjoyed working on it thus far.

Thank you for the sweet ask, take care, and good luck with your project!

#ask #I'm not afraid to admit that my fondness for dio is entirely contingent on things I made up about him in my head over the years.#there's a draft here filled with thousands of words about him that I started writing up in response to some ask I got earlier this year #but I never finished it... :( and I also never posted the dozens and dozens of pictures I frenetically drew of him either. maybe someday #on another note: I did my yearly reread of johnny the other month. I'll do something big with him one day but this year is not the year #similarly sasha answers in the queue. I'm glad you enjoyed psychonauts it's one of the greatest games ever visually and re: gameplay. etc #lucy art

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felassan · 5 months

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Do you think were going to see a Dreadwolf reveal trailer at Dragon Age Day or at the Game Awards?

hello!

I'm not sure, and I'm also hopeful/excited (so.. a regular felassan state of affairs hh..). if it's in a place where they feel ready to show it to the world more then that'd be neat, it'd be cool to see what's being worked on. and ofc anything said here is only speculation.

it's been at TGA before (2018 trailer, 2020 trailer), the last time being 3 years ago in 2020. if the 2024 internal currently-aimed release window mentioned in error on a dev profile recently is indeed still current (I'd guess that the change to "TBD" won't have been because the aim changed since the dev put that there btw, it'll have been because there isn't supposed to be any public info about the currently aimed release window yet but the games press noticed it on the profile, prompting BW/EA to ask the dev to change it. separate note: this being the case doesn't mean that there's no possibility that the window will slip more though), appearing at TGA 2023 wouldn't be a shock. maybe it depends on whether the possible 2024 release window is in early (but still after April 1st 2024 because of the fiscal quarter & FY24 slate stuff) 2024 or late 2024? as if it's later in 2024 (like say November) I could see a world where it isn't at TGA23 but is somewhere in the summer video game event/news expo period instead, because of the recent trend that's been observable in the industry generally and commented on by a former bioware dev re: an industry move towards shorter marketing periods (like more in the realm of a few months-6 months than a year). it's been said that the policy for this for a lot of AAA games has become a lot shorter, tending towards a lot shorter and louder marketing campaigns.

jeff grubb recently said on DA:D, "The Game Awards 2023 sounds right to me, they’ve done stuff at The Game Awards before. I’m expecting them to be there. If they’re not, it better be soon after, because Dragon Age: Dreadwolf, was, you know, there was a chance Dragon Age: Dreadwolf could’ve came out this year. Obviously it did keep moving internally, as I’ve reported before. It’s now, they’re looking at, you know, by the mid of next year, something like that.” and "The reality is, we very well could get Dragon Age: Dreadwolf content at The Game Awards. They’ve had teasers there before, it would make all the sense in the world for something to show up there." [link] this is interesting bc i'm pretty sure I remember a tweet from him last year about TGA22 where he straight up said "no it won't be there" or something basically when he was asked about it.

what I would say is that if it's gonna happen in a substantial way (as in not a codex entry and a blog post) in early December 2023, it'd likely be at TGA, not on DADay. this is based on how it was done previously and also on what's been said about DADay (an unofficial fan holiday event that just happens to occur very close to when TGA is held, thereby being overshadowed by it in terms of scale) vs TGA (a massive industry-wide high publicity event). DADay has seemed to have been more of a community-focused thing, a place to announce something smaller in scale like a tv show or a new book or to have something smaller highlighted like short stories or a codex. it's more of a 'today we are announcing we will be at TGA' with a new trailer-type [hypothetically] context rather than a 'here is a new trailer that isnt an ingame cinematic' type context, if that makes sense. saying that if it isnt going to be a 'big' trailer at TGA23, maybe there's something at DAday like last year where they showed an ingame sequence, which is smaller than a 'big substantial trailer' but still a video.

(idk if this post/ramble made sense but there you go). guess we'll find out in < 3 weeks. (❁´◡`❁)

#dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #mj replies #homiest88 #video games

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