#but I also don’t know who I want to be. which is unhelpful.

[dinosnaurnuggets]

Today is feeling like a disappear into the woods kinda day

[sunkissedchld]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒗𝒆𝒓. 𝒐𝒏𝒆

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one is the clear quartz, pile two is the tiger's eye, and so on and so forth.

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. lastly, please don't be afraid to say if the message resonated or not; it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it's "bad".

good luck to you, reader 🔮

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Signs:

heavily craving or avoiding physical touch, prominent first house or major first house transits right now, 9/99/999, heavy fire sign placements or embodying fire sign energy recently (or needing to), archangel gabriel, heavy sagittarius and/or cancer energy, mercury, uranus

Shufflemancy: 

“Confessions” by Usher

“Lost Without U” by Robin Thicke

“Insecure” by Amare La Negra

“ICONIC” by Aespa

“3RACHA” by Stray Kids

Cards:

Ace of Cups, Page of Wands (Rx), Knight of Swords (Rx), Broom, Knight of Pentacles (Rx), Queen of Pentacles, Justice, The Hermit, The Star, The Magician

Reading: 

It feels like there’s two camps of people for this pile: those with project ideas in mind for work or for their own personal lives and those interested in a potential crush or relationship. I’ll try to give examples for both and keep things semi-neutral, but sometimes things aren’t always that clean, so apply to your situation as needed. 

You may feel excited about this new project or relationship. You’re excited about potential prospects and have all these ideas running in your mind about how to go about things or how things will turn out, but this excitement is actually proving to be unhelpful or detrimental in a sense. Excitement with the right work ethic and listening ears can be a blessing, but without direction and input from others can cause you flail. It seems you could be rushing into things and trying to make pieces fit where they don’t so to speak. You could be thinking your plan is perfect and if everything just went the way you wanted, then all would be great, but this isn’t true. You need to get rid of this idea of you being this know-it-all who knows exactly what’s happening right now. 

For those of you who are used to always pursuing and making things happen; you need to step back and allow the universe to play out its wants. You could be the type of person who thinks they have to sacrifice everything in order to be happy or live comfortably, and the truth is that is not the case. You can have a balance between your work life and romantic or personal one; it’s okay to love working and coming up with all these ideas, but you also need to learn how to get comfortable with being with others and yourself outside of that professional, work-minded setting. 

For those of you who sit in the background and are a little more lazy, the opposite is true in that you need to step into taking control of your own life instead of leaving decisions and everything else up to the universe or other people around you. you could be too hedonistic and concerned about personal connections to the point where you put your livelihood and financial security at risk. In both instances, a need to balance is present. Also for both instances, there’s an emphasis on spending a little bit of time with yourself to determine in which way you need to expand and in which way you need to pull back from some of your habits. 

This pursuit versus lackadaisical attitude can also be applied to pursuing relationships. Some of you are constantly on the look for this person you’re interested in, or you’re always thinking of how you want to be in a relationship or how you can get into one when you need to step back and let it come to you when you need it. Others of you are acting as if you’re completely out of the game and are putting in no effort to create and maintain relationships when the reality is humans are interactive creatures, and you too need interaction! Again, a balance is needed for those this aligns with. 

Ultimately, you can have whatever it is you want: the lead on the project, the relationship, the good work ethic, the hedonistic lifestyle, but you also need to balance that with what it is you’re avoiding. The perfect recipe or spell concoction isn’t made with too much of any one ingredient. Everything has to work together in order for so-called perfection to be derived.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Signs:

lack of sight, “going in blind”, prominent twelfth house placements or transits, heavy pisces placements or energy, 1212, venus, 3/33/333, “i’m walking on sunshine”; “i’m trying to ascend”; “i’m crucified like my savior; saint-like behavior”

Shufflemancy: 

“in my head” by Ariana Grande

“Cry Baby” by Megan Thee Stallion (feat. DaBaby)

“Say My Name (Live)” by Beyoncè

“Emotional Bruises” by Madison Beer

“Streets Is Callin’” by B2K

Cards:

Page of Wands (Rx), Page of Pentacles, The Chariot, Ace of Swords, Seven of Cups, The Patient Witch, Three of Cups, Three of Pentacles, Good Luck Charm

Reading: 

Those choosing pile two might be in an intermittent state currently. Previously, you could’ve felt like you were on top of the world with everything set in stone, but now you’ve lost your footing, and you can’t necessarily figure out why. You might’ve started a project or new endeavor, and now you’re running into unexpected troubles which are making you want to give up. 

You might be someone who is obsessive about the things they want; you need everything to turn out exactly how you pictured it - to the point of refusing to be happy with anything less or slightly different even if the bulk of what you want is given to you. When you do encounter differences (or what you’d consider roadblocks), you have a habit of abandoning things or believing you must’ve messed up in some way – even when that’s not the case! You get so focused on “fixing” things that you forget to be appreciative of what you do accomplish. 

It seems you recognize you’re on some sort of journey, and you’re excited to do so much; you have so many ideas you want to pursue that sometimes you confuse yourself about what to do. In some ways, an abundance of choices is confusing you. You could inherently know that you likely can’t pursue everything (or that you shouldn’t), but your curiosity is getting the best of you. For some of you, I feel like some of these illusionary good choices have already come forward, and you’ve figured out the hard way that not every choice available to you is a good one. 

Those of pile two are being called to do a few things. One is to be patient and listen to yourself. Again, you can have all these ideas about what you want to do, but you need to figure out a way to “be still” and concentrate your energy on what’s best for you. You don’t have to be making moves or plans all the time; I know being told to meditate can feel frustrating, but the truth is that it’s hard to make good decisions without fully thinking them through. This act of listening to your inner self does not have to be done completely alone though (although parts of it should be). Don’t be afraid to ask friends, your guides, or other people around you for advice or help. Talk through your ideas, work with others to achieve them – you might see more success creating a community as opposed to acting totally alone. 

Overall pile two, things will work out for you depending on how you act and whether or not you listen. If you keep pursuing things faster than you’re ready to, then you can expect rude awakenings about needing to slow down and think before acting. If you take the time to get in tune with yourself and determine what it is you truly should be going after, then you can expect better outcomes and results.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Signs:

9/99/999, feeling sick recently, not trusting yourself, “don’t trust yourself”, uranus prominence, the color red, lack of fight, dogma, fire dominance or being drawn to fire, 3/33/333, swords, prominent air energy or dominance, 6/66

Shufflemancy: 

“Right Here” by Alex Aiono

“Princess Going Digital” by Amaarae

“King’s Dead” by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Jay Rock, Future, & James Blake)

“Muwop” by Latto (feat. Gucci Mane)

“Die A Little Bit” by Tinashe (feat. Ms Banks)

Cards:

Six of Swords, Six of Wands, Four of Pentacles, Nine of Swords, Five of Swords, The World, Nine of Wands, Temperance, The Tower, Ten of Cups (Rx), Ace of Swords

Reading: 

I think this pile is mainly for those thinking about or experiencing a romantic situation – not everyone will be, so don’t be alarmed because the overall message will be able to be applied regardless of whether romance is in your life right now or not. Those who chose this pile may be the type to close themselves off from others; in a lot of ways you’re hiding your light and existence from people who would appreciate and celebrate you. You could be someone who has social anxiety or worries often about the way people perceive you; you might find it hard to make friends or to establish relationships (romantic, platonic, maybe even familial) where you feel comfortable revealing your authentic self to others. 

You’re being called to leave this unsure part of yourself behind. You could be insecure when it comes to interacting with others – maybe you have a stutter or there’s some other factor that impacts your speech or how comfortable you feel when talking to people. For some of you, you may not understand what makes you special or what would draw people to you as a person, but Six of Wands in the deck I have says, “you’re kind of a big deal, so start acting like it!”. Even if you can’t see your own beauty, draw, or light other people can and want to connect with you because of it and because of who you portray yourself to be. 

Going back to relationships and trying to make connections with others, you may be someone who always thinks the worst of people. You may often think, “no one will like me”; “I won’t be able to make friends here”; “I’m not interesting enough”; “all my relationships go to shit in some way, so why try”, and the advice to you is “you can’t be right all of the time”. The worst possible outcome is not the only outcome. There’s almost a guarantee that if you get out of your comfort zone and be intentional in establishing relationships with people, then you may find the outcomes you fear so much won’t happen. “You have to give people the chance to show you they’re not like the people who have been in your life previously”. 

There’s an emphasis on the fact that you’re still standing even though you may have experienced times when you didn’t think you would keep going. The only/main thing holding you back right now is not your guides or the universe or the people around you or some outside evil force that you think only has it out for you – you are imposing limitations on yourself because of your fear of being hurt again. Although you’re being urged to try and pursue relationships out of your own volition; it’s important to note that some people are coming forward regardless. You must get rid of this idea that you’re unlikeable or unlovable, and you’ll likely have a Tower moment regarding your idea of and the way you act in relationships soon.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Signs:

the color purple, feeling restless or tired, sun dominance or needing to go out in the sun, prominent capricorn, libra, and/or gemini placements, red orange/blood orange, second house placements or transits, “trust yourself”, artemis, poseidon, water dominance or working with water, hades

Shufflemancy: 

“libidO” by OnlyOneOf

“Focus” by H.E.R

“Victory” by Yolanda Adams 

“UGOMDN” by chlothegod

“Star Lost” by Stray Kids

Cards:

Page of Pentacles (Rx), Seven of Cups, The Patient Witch (Rx), Queen of Swords, Page of Cups, Five of Wands, Ten of Wands (Rx), The Lovers (Rx), Ace of Pentacles, Eight of Cups. Judgment

Reading: 

The message for those of you who chose pile four is going to be a little harsh – just as a disclaimer. Your guides may be at their wits end in trying to tell you nicely or in trying to contact you in general, so this could be a message you’ve been ignoring or not understanding for a while. This could be a lesson you keep running into; I heard “you’re tired? We’re tired too”, so take that as it resonates. This pile also feels adjacent to pile two because some of the same cards came out, but I think this pile is for those of you who have little time to make your decision to change your ways because you’ve already been warned multiple times. 

At your core, you embody the Queen of Swords; you may be quick-witted, steadfast in your knowledge of who you are and what you want, outspoken, and independent to a fault, but currently these attributes are manifesting in the most negative ways. Currently, you could be acting childish and “rotten”; I’m reminded of Violet from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. You’re so stuck in this idea of how you want things to play out and what you want that you’ve backed yourself into a situation where you come off as immature and lazy if things don’t go your way. What seems to be coming through is “oh, you’re stubborn? We can be stubborn too”. 

Your guides are wanting you to loosen up and be open to experiencing what’s thrown to and/or given to you. You have the ultimate control over your life, but I’m seeing some of you specifically asked for your guides’ help and aid, so if you want it, then you have to listen to their suggestions also. Your work with them is not a one-way affair, so stop treating it as such. They are not magic genies who are to drop everything and give you everything you want at your beck and call. I heard “cruisin’ for a bruisin’” which could be related to your need to control things. 

The advice of this reading is really to be mindful of how you're treating your guides and your intentions in your journey with them. For one, you’re shouldering too much responsibility to the point where you’re burning yourself out. It is not possible to go through life all by yourself with no help or input from anyone else. It’s also not possible to have a relationship with your guides and never listen to them or treat them like they’re your servants. If you keep running into obstacles and misfortunes going on your own, then maybe try their way for a while and see how it works for you. 

Overall pile four, your guides want to work with you. They want to provide you with abundance and see you prosper and above all happy, but if you refuse to listen, then you will keep stumbling.

[elodieunderglass]

I am absolutely wild and feral over HDM (legit like, daemons fit SO well. I'm watching dunmeshi wondering where Laios' dog went) and super curious if you do plan a sequel or other fics following this AU??

(In reference to the His Dark Materials / Dungeon Meshi fusion fic)

thank you so much for this question I love this question god!!!! Thank you thank you thank you

God sorry about HDM being delayed, I’m going through hell over it at the moment. It’s meant to end a little after the dragon, then a timeskip epilogue, with special coding so that you can read it two different ways, depending on whether you want spoilers for the manga/season 2. (My idea is that you’ll click a button to reveal/hide it, and the spoiler-free epilogue will be like found poetry.)

Firstly, if you or anyone else would like to take the concepts/characters in His Delicious Materials forward for themselves, you must do this. You don’t need my permission (but I’d love a link! so I can read, scream, reblog, comment, link to it, etc. there is also the “inspired by” setting on ao3 so we can link works directly to HDM, forming a collection for anyone who reads one and wants more.) I don’t own any of it! We are all just having fun! YOU can be the sequel you want to see in the world! If your heart feels a way forward, then follow your heart!! A daemon AU is really about revealing character and I find them really inspiring, like adding a whole engine to a story idea.

If I were to write something to follow up, I do know what the sequel WOULD be! It would be a sort of Discworld novel about the slow social revolution occurring in the half-foots as a chain reaction to Bee settling as a weasel, all occurring behind Chilchuck’s oblivious and unhelpful back. Pushed into a sort of bottleneck of sparrow- and mouse-souls, and marginalised to the very edges of society, half-foots are precarious and endangered. Chilchuck is mostly eating a ham sandwich unhelpfully in the foreground, and at the end of the story looks back and sees to his bewilderment that his people have found a way forward (they don’t have a Shire or a Chosen One, but they do have a goddamn functional worker’s union and their own collective dignity.) kind of Discworld-commentary-comedy, kind of a loving argument with Tolkien, kind of Sharpe hostile-and-awkward-protagonist-POV-doesn’t-know-and-wouldn’t-believe-that-his-men-genuinely-love-him, kind of about the experience of parenting, and kind of gently warmly political BUT FUNNY so it would be ok. but feel it would be too much of a stretch of people’s patience and the original materials’s intentions to call it fanfic. Too many OCs needed to carry the weight, too little reference to the other Dungeon Meshi characters, almost too little “payoff” for what would be a full 70k word work. So maybe to let the story breathe, it would be better worked up as original fiction?

(Plus, that is actually an actual novel: if people write their own novels and manga about orc coffeeshops and dnd parties, I could just write my own too: wait but how do you know if you should?)

Anyway, that is an entirely separate kettle of weasels and my own cross to bear! If your heart cries out for a sequel the best way to manifest it in the world is to write it!

If you feel that A Weasel Heart In Defiance feels like it would scratch that itch, here is a bit that is mildly relevant to Dungeon Meshi, which is Chilchuck and Bee starting to work away from home while the girls were still small. You’ll probably see what I mean from it.

About seven of the village children, including his own three, had a snake in a wooden bucket. They didn't look up.

The reappearance of a random guy who functioned mostly as a postal service and occasionally shouted at them about bedtime - in a way that could be easily blanked out if something more interesting was happening - simply could not be expected to compete for attention with a snake in a bucket.

Chilchuck could recognise this on some level, but as his own children ignored him, he felt very hot and angry, in a way that he had never wanted to feel about children, especially his.

Bee, also rigidly pissed off, growled, "Easy, boss."

This was where Chilchuck did the only thing so far that he was proud of, in this day. He did not start shouting, even though his temper was going something like What the fuck, kids, but worse. He stopped, took a minute, and remembered he'd had this whole thing where he'd wanted his kids to love him. He rubbed his nose, said, "Remind me," and his daemon reminded him: "What do we want them to actually do?"

And he said, "The bare minimum fucking acknowledgement would be nice."

And Bee said, "Have we explained that to them? Do they know?"

So Chilchuck and Bee, hot and tired and cross and still on the job apparently, sat down on the ground with the kids and looked in the bucket. The snake, poor bastard, looked very limp and tired. Chilchuck could relate.

After a while, Chilchuck said, "Girls?"

Or more accurately, something like, "Girls! Girls. Meifleurpatti-I mean Puck-PUCK. Listen up. Mei! Fleur, I'm talking - thanks Fleur - Puck. (Ryeland, stop the baby.) PUCK. Mei, Fleur, Puck - PUCK, eyes on me - thanks, Ryeland - PUCK. EYES," which condensed in parent-speak to a single roar of "Girls!"

When he had them more or less listening, he remembered to set his voice to the more singsong cadence one used for children, instead off the deeper version of his natural voice that he used for shouting at the top of his abilities at tall people; making the choice to be patient and gentle, or at least pretend to be someone who was; and in this manner he said reasonably, "Now, your dad's been away for a very long time and missed you all very much. What do you say? What do you say when your dad comes home?"

Six children stared at him blankly, and the baby toppled gently into the bucket. He fished it out, stuck it sideways under his arm, allowed the snake to escape in the confusion, acknowledged someone's grievously injured finger, stopped Fleur from pinching, took out his pocket handkerchief and wiped Puck's nose in essentially one continuous motion.

To be completely fair, now that he'd let go of the initial anger, he could see that the kids had absolutely no idea what he'd wanted of them. Kids had practically no social instincts at the best of times. Chilchuck coming home was remarkable, sure, but beyond their influence; how were they supposed to react? What do you say to a comet? What do you say to a hailstorm? What do you say when daddy comes home?

He repeated the question, as the children had universally drawn blanks and devolved into staring vacantly.

"Good morning, Daddy!" A child chirped helpfully, setting off the rest in an automatic drone of "good morning, Daddy," in the strangely universal dreary tone of all children saying that.

"So close, Fernwise! Is it morning? What else do we think?"

Bee, fighting for order among the kit-daemons, was simultaneously washing Fleurtom's daemon, Pantoufle's, face; receiving a long rambling report of a grievance from three incoherent witnesses; and minding the baby's chick-daemon; up to her ears in parenting. She said, around a mouthful of Pan, "Speed it up, boss, you're losing them."

"Where are your spots, Daddy?" Pan asked him. He was in the form of a young ferret and scrabbled against his mother's grip on his scruff.

"My what?"

"Your freckles," Bee said grimly, and seeing he'd been temporarily disarmed - and being a valiant beast in her way - charged in to her human's defense, "Is that nice, Pan? We don't want to make people feel bad about their looks, do we?"

"Yes we do," said Fleur.

"Fleur! We've just - we haven't seen much of the sun, that's all," said Bee, taking charge, the best and most loyal soul a man could have. "They'll come back, and they're not spots."

"Mei has spots."

"Freckles."

"Grimbob has spots."

"Yes, and you shouldn't notice," Bee said. "Think of Grimbob's feelings."

"I do, I think he feels spotty."

"I'm thirsty," Puck said flatly.

"Stick to the point, kids," Chilchuck said, recovering from the fact that his usual face was apparently indistinguishable to children from Grimbob's, who had been taking puberty hard. This was surprisingly difficult to do.

Ryeland, a mildly bright spark who was older than the Chils girls, connected two dots and suddenly roared "WELCOME HOME DADDY," so six children all repeated that automatically, and Fleur added sunnily, "I missed you Daddy!"

And just as a very small piece of Chilchuck's heart was finally allowed to melt, she added, equally sunnily, "Mei didn't."

"I did a little," Meijack said vaguely.

"That's great kids, well done, we got there in the end," Chilchuck said. "Remember it for next time, okay? It makes Daddy feel better about his stupid life. Now, next time, let's remember that it's traditional to do a hug."

He realised his mistake instantly, as six children and their daemons all bore him - and the baby he'd forgotten he was holding - to the ground.

___________

[theblueflower05]

The Sweetest Sylaung

A/N: So I def didn’t mean to write a novel long Neteyam smut story but here we are. Debating on making this a mini series. Also the anon that requested a “curvy” reader insert- here ya go!(she’s also an Augustine- buttttt you can only see that if you squint lol)

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: This is smut. Pure smut. Please don’t read if it is not your jam. You are in charge of cultivating your own online experience, you’ve been warned!

Pairing: Aged Up! Neteyam x Human!Curvy!Reader

Summary: After an “accidental” romp in the forest, you do your best to avoid Neteyam. It’s for everyone’s good, or so you’ve convinced yourself.

“I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans. That’s my man”- Willow, Taylor Swift

The kaleidoscope of colors explode under your eyes in endless patterns and shapes as you look over the sample of Pandora flora under the heavy duty microscope. This particular piece of the Moons terra had never been discovered before, only blooming at what you estimated to be every ten or so years, under the right monsoon like conditions

At least that’s what you had discovered so far.

The flower, which sprouted into a berry, and then dissipated into a moss like cluster of microorganisms all within its short life cycle had turned into your passion project. You we’re doing your thesis on it, the last step in getting your Masters.

You’d gone through schooling on a computer screen, guided by the greatest minds on Earth that had relocated to Pandora. Scientists of all fields who you’d grown up around. None of them had been surprised when you’d picked up botany. Xenobotany to be exact.

It was in your blood.

The desk your at shakes violently- disturbing your precision like focus. Breaking you straight out of your zone.

“Ugh” you groan, frustrated, raising your head, eyes narrowing at the culprits.

Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri freeze like deers in the headlights of your fury. Spiders arm raised, a wad of paper balled up in his hand, aimed to shoot. He lowers it slowly as the weight of your your heavy gaze zero’s in.

“Sorry, cu-”

“I told you guys, if you cant behave to get the fuck out” You seethe. Your nerves are paper thin anyway. Too much screen time frying your brain something fierce as you focused in on your studies. “Is that not what I said, verbatim?”

“You need to chill. You’ve been so high strung lately. Come hang out with us” Lo’ak suggests smooth and unhelpful. As usual. “When was the last time you left the lab?”

You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, trying not to say anything to scalding to the surprisingly sensitive Sully brother. “No thanks. I’ve gotta focus”

“Maybe Lo’aks right” Kiri starts, her face screwing up as she speaks “Eywa that sounds wrong. Nevermind, My brother is never right- but you should come hang out with us. Let’s go swimming- the watering hole is over flowing from the storms”

The deep sigh through your nose isn't calming, even though you pretend it is. You know they mean well, in the most annoying way. That you’d been buried in books and paperwork in the lab for the past couple months.

Hiding from the outside world within the thick walls of Hell’s Gate.

“Can’t. This is important, Kir- but why don’t you guys head down there? Its closer to Home Tree and its almost curfew anyway” two birds, one stone. Its a smart suggestion- but Kiri’s face falls, shoulders sagging and ears lowing. That look had always gotten you-

“I cant today, but maybe tomorrow? The samples are too fresh and I don't want to put them on ice…But I think Max made those Yovo cookie things” That’s only half of the truth, but luckily Kiri’s always been understanding.

She grabs your elbow in her long fingers and tugs you along.

The mess hall had seen better days, but the large open space still tends to be the meeting ground for the humans that were allowed to stay and inhabit the moon. With twelve foot tall ceilings and airtight exits and windows that lead out to the Avatar Program training yards. Its a common room of sorts, a place where everyone gathers. For meals, for mismatched Holidays. But mostly for gossip.

I mean, what else is there to do?

Like currently, you’re deeply engrossed in the story that Doctor Martinez’s, Xeno-Zoologist is recounting. All dramatics and dirty intimate details “It’s true, they’re gonna bring it before Mo’at and everything”

He’s talking about Trevino and Eital’i.

Everyone had heard the whispers, seen the not so subtle signs. The main Radio Tower operator had turned during the resistance, had fought beside Jake and had been allowed to stay on Pandora- better stuck on a foreign planet then thrown in a familiar jail cell. Trevino’s a cool guy, really.

A cool guy who had been sleeping with a Na’vi woman, apparently. The two had kept it under wraps, really private. No one could pin down how or when it happened,,,but to go to the clan’s Tsahik seeking a mating blessing? That’s major.

“You’re lying” you accuse in a gasp as the table breaks into whispers, all wide eyes and shaking heads. “They’re going to mate?...How?”

“It’s not like it hasn't happened before” Another scientist chimes in casually. Like it’s a known thing.

Which it kind of is.

Taboo, yes. But not unheard of, more like untalked about.

Humans and the Na’vi of the forest had lived in close quarters since the overthrow of the RDA. Jake, the standing Olo’eyktan, just had a little too much homosapien in him. Yeah, he’d survived the soul transfer and fully inhabited his blue body- but he never quite grew out of his human roots.

It had been hard, lots of politicking and good grace shown on both parts, but somehow, like all biomes in the vast perma green forest, all had learned to live in harmony. Most Omitikaya kept their distance. Very hesitant about the human presence. They had every right to be scared, hostile. Scarred by man and its weapons and its destruction.

Others had been raised in close proximity to Grace’s school. Had become accustomed to the nearly two decade long human presence on Pandora. Curious and accepting.

You’d heard about interspecies hookups.

Locker room talks that left your ears burning and your heart racing. It usually came from members of the Avatar Program- It tends to set a precedent, when the quote on quote “royal family” of the Omiticaya is a Jarhead and a native woman.

Na’vi are gorgeous, tall and lean but humanoid enough to be familiar…you’re not exactly sure what they see in humans but you know damn well what you guys see in them.

“How do you think that works? The…physicality of it all I mean. Trevino doesn't have an Avatar. How do they fuck-”

You’re not the only one zoning out from the conversation and it’s lewd turn.

You watch Kiri watch Spider and your heart aches for her. What they have is secret, delicate and forbidden. As a woman with high standing in the clan, you knew that her feelings for the boy wouldn't go anywhere. Couldn't.

When they we’re kids, it was cute. Now that they 're both technically adults, it was just plain stupid.

You tell her of the fact, often.

Kiri tells you to stop projecting.

———

The Sully Kid’s are always late. It’s like no matter how hard they try, they cant make curfew. You throw on an Exopack, hurrying them to the fence.

“Yeah, yeah okay mom. Take it easy” Lo’ak shrugs huffily as you yank hard on his arm. “I’m going, Y/N!”

“Not fast enough you strumbeast’s ass! You’re gonna get me into trouble, who do you think your dad’s gonna blame when you guys end up back at Home Tree super late again? Norm chewed me out for that shit last time!” You man handle the much taller than you alien.

Kiri and Spider a few leagues in front of you, already at the mouth of the giant fence. They’re awkward, not in their usual synched steps. You wonder how much of that conversation earlier had gone to their heads?

You’re bickering with Lo’ak, an extremely normal occurrence. He can be a real douche. and had been kind of insufferable lately. You think its nerves about his impending Iknamaya.

So engrossed with getting them on their way home that you don't even notice him until it’s too late.

Neteyam is a skilled hunter, through and through. The youngest in the clan to ever make a kill. Swift and quiet. Beloved.

But around you he feels out of his element. Clunky and awkward, no matter how hard he tries to play it off its like you can see right through him. Its scary and thrilling, sets his stomach alive with butterflies everytime. This is no different.

Showing up to Hell’s Gate to retrieve his siblings was something he had done since he was a child.

He’d used to bleed hours away playing with them at the scientists fortress, but as he had gotten older and his responsibilities had grown heavier- he had little time for it. Still, when ever his parents would send him out on a one man search party to bring them home, he’d jump at the chance.

At the hope of seeing you.

You’re arguing with his little brother, trying not to laugh at something he said and Neteyam knows. He knows he shouldn't feel jealous but he just cant help it. Cant help the acidic twist of his insides.

Especially when he chirps out his family's familiar call, letting his presence be known.

And watches that pretty smile fall right off of your face.

“You’re late, as usual” His voice has a stern edge. It’s annoying, the role he has to play. Kiri is a woman grown, Lo’ak just weeks away from being the same. He doesnt blame them for the way their feathers bristle, almost viscerally.

“Ah, big brother you didn't have to come all this way to get us” Kiri reassures, patting Neteyam on the chest good naturedly. “We we’re just about to be on our way”

Neteyam notices the way you try to look anywhere else but him. It stings because he cant stop looking at you, cant pry his eyes away from your form.

“You all should start heading back before dad notices” Neteyam starts. His father had been busy as of late, harvest season abundant and fruitful this year because of the heavy rain season “I’ll catch up, I need to speak with Norm”

“What? Dad cant use the coms now, he has to send his messenger” Lo’ak’s nose scrunches a little, always questioning. On a normal day it wouldn't affect Neteyam so much, just a normal jab from his snot nosed little brother.

Not today. Not when he’s stretched so thin. Not when you refuse to look at him but are staring at the side of Lo’ak fat head. It feels wrong, makes his skin heat up to the point that it feels itchy and tight.

“That's none of your concern. Head back to Home Tree. Now” He doesn't normally throw his weight around. But he feels the need to puff up big in front of you “Those are orders. Get out of here”

Lo’ak’s less offended and more surprised. One of his oh so human eyebrows cocks, a sly remark in his throat before he scoffs. “Aye, Aye Captain Kiss Ass. C’mon Kiri let's go. See you later Spider, Y/N”

He deuces up Spider, gives Y/N a pat on her small shoulder and glares harshly at his brother before he disappears into the thick brush of the jungle.

Kiri wraps her arms around you in a strong hug, muttering about ‘swimming’ and ‘promises’. The small impish smile she shoots Spider gives YOU butterflies so you don't blame the way he swoons, before she’s off behind her younger brother.

“I can go find Norm for you, bro. I think he’s still out in his Avv, but Max can radio him back in” Spider is none the wiser. Doesn't notice the heavy tension that simmers on a low bubble. Oblivious, as usual.

“Yeah, sure” Neteyam replies, barely sparing the human boy a glance. He’d feel bad for it later, when he could form coherent thought. When his brain wasn't on Y/N issued override.

Spider chatters, good natured. He never got to see the Olo’eyktan in training anymore. He missed his homie.

“Well, I should be heading back. You guys have a good rest of your night-” You’re already turning on your heels when you make the announcement, eager to get back inside. Back behind the safe walls of the lab- far away from Neteyam.

“No”

Neteyam who stares at you with all too knowing eyes. He looks straight through you like he can see through your clothes, through your thinly veiled escapism attempts. He reaches out, wraps his long fingers around the top of your arm and tugs you back to him. Gentle, but very firm.

He doesn't have to say it- it’s written all over his face. Not this time. He’s not going to let you run away from him.

“Netey-” You start in a whine, tugging on his hold. He doesnt relent, if anything his fingers tighten as his eyes narrow. Dangerous, desperate.

“Just talk to me” it’s a barely concealed plea, his tail twitches anxiously behind him “I'm just asking for five minutes. Please Y/N”

Spiders oblivious, yes. Stupid? No. He doesnt know exactly what's going on between the two of you but has clued into the fact that it’s heavy and he wants no part of it.

The excuse he makes is shit- he’ll just go find Norm. Yeah… he’s so out of there.

“What is wrong with you?” You hiss as you watch Spiders awkward, quick retreating form. Eyes flickering over the empty for now training yards “So much for keeping it lowkey, huh? Could you be anymore obvious?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Neteyam is almost shaking with disbelief “What the fuck is wrong with you? You havent talked to me in over a month. Everytime I make any kind of attempt you bolt. I dont-” He sighs, pinching the wide bridge of his nose with the hand that isnt holding onto you.

He looks tortured. Tired. Run a little ragged.

Beautiful.

“I don't know what I did? If this is about that day in the forest-”

You sigh at his words, once again pulling on his hold. Shaking your head desperately because you can't.

You can't talk about it. Fuck, you’ve been trying not to even think about it.

And failing as you replay the event over and over again the darkness of your bunk. Hyper fixating on the way that his lips had felt against yours. Oh the way that his big hands had worked your body over

“Don’t” you whisper “Please don’t”

You’d never been one to beg for pity, for mercy but that’s what you do now. Beg him to let you out of his tight clutches. Metaphorically and physically.

“You’re all I can think about” It's a gutted admittance, but Neteyam makes it all the same “That night- I can’t sleep. I can barely eat- I’m falling behind on my duties because I keep coming back here. Standing outside this fence and waiting for you. I know you could hear me over the coms, right?”

And you could, a few weeks or so ago.

When he’d begged you to come out. To come speak to him. His voice so appealing that you’d almost caved. You’d had to turn off your receiver. Had sat with your head in your hands for hours as you fought the urge to crawl to him, knees raw and your bloody heart on a platter only he could divulge in.

He shuffles closer, all lean strong muscle. Firm, unmovable. “You heard me”

“Of course I did”

“And you still left me out here” He scoffs, head shaking slightly as his adams apple bobs, his ears are pinned to the sides of his head in obvious distress “I could never do that shit to you.”

“One of us needs to be the adult in this situation” Your voice is as strong as you can make it. Trying to speak reason on to both of you “We can pretend it never happened and go back to the way that things were before. You’re my friend, Tey”

You reach up, stroking at his wrist. Trying to soften him enough for him to let this go. Let you go.

He’s trying to control his breathing, all that training for all of those years for what? One fragile human girl to make him completely unspool? To lose any and all composure he’d worked so hard to gain.

He was always the adult, in all situations. Had been born with a neck cramping crown on his head. Shrouded in pressurized glory.

“If this is me being childish, so be it. Where has pretending gotten you, huh? Look at you, yawntutsyìp. you look so tired. When was the last time you slept? Kiri says you spend days in the lab without resting”

His hands, both of them, come up to cup your face. Huge and calloused. Yet he holds you like you're something precious. A small animal, a rare gem. His whole entire world since he was just a boy.

Neteyam thumbs at the cool glass of your mask, tenderly. The bags under your eyes are sunken and bruised. “Don’t shut me out”

Your body, in its entirety, clenches at his words. Velvet and sincere. He’s a fucking dream. Your head leans into his hands, neck sagging of its own accord as any and all words of protest leave your weak mind.

He makes you so easy.

“Let me in…I dont want there to be this distance between us anymore” He hisses around the word distance. Hating even having to say it “I want to be inside of you again”

Your plump lower lip gets skewered between your teeth, eyes screwed shut as you remember the last time. Your first ever time being full…you’d dreamt of it every night since it had happened.

If it wasn't for the blasted mask and your need for Earth’s oxygen he’d kiss you. Right here right now. He didn't really give a shit who saw or what they had to say.

Instead pulls you into his chest, lets you wind your arms around his lean middle and bury your chest in his diaphragm. Its as close as he can get you, for now. Makes you cling to him the way that he’d clung to every thought of you for the last weeks.

You wish it was lungfuls of his skin that you were taking as you try to bring yourself down from this abrupt shaky high. You dont get it, how your relationship couldve flipped this hard in such a short time.

He had always just been Neteyam. A shameless flirt yes- but that’s all it was.

“Would you like that?” He questions, hands working through your hair. Fingers light and soothing on your scalp. Massaging the thoughts right out of your head.

“Hmm?”

“If I was inside you again?” He presses on. You can feel the tickle of his long, thin, tail as it wraps around the back of your calf and you groan, digging your nails into his back.

“You’re such an asshole. Stoppppp it” You’re embarrassed and turned on and already feel stupid enough, he doesn't need to rub it in. His chest shakes as he chuckles.

“I’m serious. Tell me you want it-”

“Neteyam! Hey!”

The two of you break apart in an instant. You jump away from him as though struck by lightning. Instantly putting enough distance between you and the Na’vi that maybe, just maybe an onlooker might think that the embrace was friendly.

It’s Norm, having heard that the eldest Sully was looking for him he’d come eagerly.

The smile you plaster on is forced and honestly, Neteyam doesnt fair any better. He’s obviously flustered, just glad that his erection isn't tenting his tweng.

“Spider told me you and your dad are looking for me. I’m not intruding on uh anything, am I?” Norm looks between the two of you.

Your arms are folded tightly over your chest and Neteyam is rubbing at the back of his neck, strong jaw flexing as his teeth grind.

Oh yeah, Norm had definitely interrupted something.

Knows for sure as you scurry away. As Neteyam, always so level headed, has to string together words. Stumbling a little bit as he tries to remember the message that Jake had relayed.

It’s not any of his business, he thinks at the time. He sure didnt want to be the one to shine the light on whatever the hell was going on here. Turning a blind eye to the mysteries of Pandora is the only way to survive the harshest terrain known to man.

———

You dont know that though-

No, you’re spiraling more a little bit as you prepare yourself for bed. Brushing through your thick hair and staring out into space as your mind assaults you with all of the gnarly ‘What If’s’

Norm had seen and he had to know right? Oh god, what if he told Jake?

You balk. Lowering the brush as your eyes bulge out of your head.

What if he told Neytiri?

That's actually a super horrific thought. Like nightmarish. You have a lot of respect for the future Tsahik...

…And a very healthy does of fear. She didnt like humans and made it known. She tolerated them only for her husband's benefit. What if she found out that her eldest son, her golden boy, had fucked one?

You’re freak out is interrupted by static, by the beeping of your com receiver on your night stand.

“Y/N?” its Neteyams muffled voice through the device. You’d ignored it once. You should ignore it again…

“Yeah?” you wonder if he picks up on how shaky you sound through the receiver.

“Tomorrow night meet me at the East Gate. Like when we we’re kids” he’s not really asking. Not demanding either. You could ignore him again, but he has to try.

The line goes silent, quiet for minutes on end.

“Y/N?”

You’re so stupid. “What time?”

You can hear the grin he’s sporting as he replies “0100”

“Got it, over. Good night, Neteyam. Go to sleep”

———

The East Bay is on the other side of the large fortress-like building. It's not that it's forbidden, or anything. but it is deserted. It’s where the military personnel had inhabited, and since most if not all of them had gotten the hard boot off Pandora it was empty as a ghost town in these maze like halls.

When you we’re younger; you’d caught Spider sneaking Kiri and Lo’ak in through the rarely used entrance. You’d demanded the know how, if he didnt want you to rat on him for it. It was a rare occurrence, but the Sully children had all been snuck into Hell’s Gate this way over the years.

You type in the codes, disabling the alarm system in order to usher Neteyam into the pressurized, air lock. You’d toted one of the Avatar Exopacks along for him, they’re heavier then hell but he’d need it.

“Hi” you smile, suddenly shy as the tall Na’vi man stands before you.

That's what he was now. A man, not only in the eyes of his people but as a whole. Broad and muscular, strong. Verile. The next leader of his people. You know that he’s highly desired in his clan. Women fawn over him. Vie for his attention.

It doesnt feel real that he wants to give it to you.

You’re nothing special. Not tall and stunning like the Omaticaya women. Even by Earth’s standards you're short, curvy. Not particularly pretty. Insecurity gnaws at you, as it so often does.

“C’mere” Neteyam urges, boldly yanking you by your waist. Pulling you flush against his body. Grabby and insistent, he wants to feel your bare skin. All plush and soft, hes been dying to taste it since the last time.

Kicking himself over and over for not savoring every bit of your body that you gave to him. He won't make the same mistake again.

He’s not gonna lie, the concrete and metal of the walls inside of Hell’s Gate have always made him a little claustrophobic. But he can't do this outside-

His lips capture yours, demanding and needy from the jump. Big, over powering, he swallows your little chirp of surprise. Devours any and all breath from your lungs. Its messy and so good. You hadn't gotten to kiss him last time.

His mouth tastes amazing, his tongue rough in texture just like you remembered. It grates your lips as you suck on it-

“Hey, slow down a little bit” You giggle as Neteyam paws at your ass, lifting you off the ground until you squirm hard, making him release you “Not here, we can't do this here there’s cameras everywhere”

“I don't care” Neteyam pecks all over your face, trying to recapture your mouth as you avoid him “Let them watch, most of those pervs would like it”

And they would know that you’re his. The thought is beyond heady.

You gasp as his sharp canines ghost over the delicate skin of your neck, nibbling on your pulse point “Please- Neteyam”

You firmly push him away, hand on his chest and maybe if you hadn't cut him off cold turkey he would've given you space. Could've pulled away for a moment to let you say your piece. Instead the idea of letting you pull away even an inch is unbearable to him.

No. instead he tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He hauls loads heavier then you every day, your protests mean little to him. With his free hand he scoops up the Avv Exo Tank,

“Where to, yawntutsyìp?”

Where too is an old conference room. Its as good as any, and Neteyam yanks a couple cushions off the old couch to act as a brace for your head as he lowers you to the floor, flat on your back.

You’re so pretty like this, he tells you of the fact.

With your hair a mess behind you, your face free of that damned mask. Grinning up at him as you rub your thighs together. He wishes he had that camera that his dad liked to take pictures on. He wants this moment of you framed, immortalized.

“I hate sky people clothes” He mutters as he tugs on the hem of your t-shirt. It hides you, hides all that skin he craves.

“You want me to take it off?” You offer eagerly, raising up enough to start peeling the piece of clothing off. You’re bare underneath, completely. Your breasts jiggle as they’re freed, nipples peaked in the cool air-conditioned air.

“Don’t ever put it on again” He demands, taking it from your hands and tossing it across the room. He’s dead serious, but by the way you're giggling you obviously think its a joke.

He can’t help it, he dives in face first. Rubbing against your soft breasts, obsessed with the way they feel. Heavy, pillowy. He drags his tongue across all of your bare skin. From your clavicle to your nipple. You always smell so pretty, but its got nothing on the way you taste. It explodes bright and savory on his tastebuds.

You let him explore, until your spit soaked and shaking. Your panties sticky as your hips search for any kind of friction. “I need you”

“You have me, my love. All of me” your eyes water at his words. At the sincerity. At how much you want them to be true.

You grab one of his hands and drag it down your chest. Past your soft, rounded belly and into your shorts. He grunts as you guide him to where you’re wet and pulsing. Rythmetically clenching around nothing.

He circles your clit, feather light. More of a tease then anything and you want to sob. You’d thought of nothing but this, touched yourself imagining him. “Tey-”

He smiles around a mouthful of nipple,tugging on with his teeth. “I missed you so much”

“Then be nice to me” you plead, trying to shove yourself down on his fingers.

“We’re being nice now? Were you nice to me when you ignored me?” he can't help it, hurt bleeds into his voice. It had been so fucking painful, knowing that you hadnt wanted to see him. To be with him.

“I’m sorry” you whine, grabbing his face, pulling it from your bosom. “I’m so sorry. I was so scared- I’m still scared but I need you”

He lets you cup his cheeks, lets you plant kisses all over him. The bridge of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. You dote on him, gentle and caring and he gorges himself on your love.

“You cant ever do that again, okay?” He shivers as you kiss his ear, running your tongue along the hyper sensitive flesh “If you’re scared you come to me, not run from me. Do you understand?”

You nod, eager. “I promise, Neteyam”

It’s all he needs to hear, that you’re his. That you won't deprive him of your presence ever again. He doesn't know what he’ll do. He’s a little scared of the man he becomes when it comes to you, you’re not the only one frightened by the gravity of your feelings.

“You asked if I wanted you inside me again? Yes. So much. I never knew I could be that full” it’s like you know just what to say. You light him up from the inside. His fingers begin circling your sopping clit again, this time with intent.

It’s blurry, the fact that your lightheaded making it hard to think. To track what he’s doing to you because somehow Neteyam seems to be everywhere at once. His big body all encompassing as he takes you.

“No-no marks, baby” You try to remind him and his blazing eyes zero in on you in a glare “you know we cant…not where they can see”

You’re right, and he hates it. He’ll just have to mark you where only you can see. Where you can look at your self and be reminded that you belong to someone. That you belong to him.

He doesn't have the patience, cant stop his hands from shaking- the tear of your shorts and panties echos around the room as he removes any barriers between him and the heat at the apex of your thighs.

You cant help the thrill it sends down your spine. He’d…ripped your panties off. You thought shit like this only existed in bad Earth made Porn that you’d found on one of the labs computers.

“Sorry, sorry” his apology is far from sincere though and you can't help but giggle, patting his braids fondly.

The fingerfucking is rough, your wines and moans spilling from you as he hits spots inside of you that make you want to curl up. It’s too good. Too much-

You screech, back bowing as he bends to kiss you, loud and sloppy, right on your wet clit. His big head burrows between your thigs as he delves on your cunt, his long rough textured tongue lapping at the fat puffy lips. The texture difference has both of you groaning.

It’s heartbreakingly good, the kind of good that you’ll never be able to forget. That you’ll crave and need for the rest of your life. Addictive, as he dedicates himself to making you feel pleasure.

Neteyam eats pussy the same way he does everything else in his life, exceeding any expectations. His instincts sharp as he hones in on how to make you lose your mind.

He keeps telling you how good you taste, breaking away for heaving breaths before he reburries himself. The only sounds in the room are the beyond wet sloshing of his tongue lashing and the pathetic noises your making.

He’s eating you alive, you don’t know how you’re supposed to survive this.

His fingers, two and then three fuck in and out of you. Corkscrewing as he loosens your tightness up for him.

“O-ooh” you whine high and reedy as you feel your tummy tightening, the pressure building in a way that makes you feel like you cant breathe. You cant your hips, shoving them down at that perfect angle “Oh, sh-shhhhit. I’m gonna, I’m-”

He doubles down and you’re a goner.

The orgasm is devastating. Sofuckinggood you think you might see stars for a minute there. You can't even scream, you keep letting out these little cries that are more like wheezes. A desprate attempt to get some kind of air back in your lungs-

Which reminds you.

Even though you’re in a daze you wiggle away from him, he hisses at you about it but you swat the top of his head as you reach for the Exo Pack.

You shove the mask in his face, between your legs.

”Breathe, Neteyam” you demand him to gulp down the Pandoran air. Yeah, he could go longer in your environment than you in his but still. Death by giving head isn’t the way you’d like him to go out.

He takes long breaths and you try not to be embarrassed by how soaked his chin is.

When he pulls away his eyes are a little more focused “Thank you, sweet girl. Always thinking about me, huh?”

You nod, dropping the mask. Closer this time for easier access. His eyes quickly zero back in on your swollen pussy, on how wet he got you. On how pretty it looks. His mouth is watering all over again-

When you try to close your thighs, the burning of your cheeks getting to be too much he hisses again. It’s not a sound he often makes and it’s a revelation, he’s so sexy. Almost feral.

“Who said I’m done?”

You’re never going to be able to get over this man “I already came?...”

“Yes? So?” he rolls his eyes, lowering his head, nuzzling at the damp juncture of your inner thigh “You’re still so tight, here feel”

His fingers slip back in you and you mewl, baring down as he scissors the long digits.

“We have to get you loose enough to take me, I don’t want to hurt you” He explains it like you need convincing. Like he has to convince you to let him eat you out. You just re-spread your thighs, relaxing back onto the cool floor as you let him do as he pleases.

It takes two more orgasms that you scream and shake through until he deems that you’re ready. By the time that he begins to slide his cock into you you’re a blubbering, oversensitive mess. You’re crying rivers of tears as you cling to him.

“Hold my hand? Please ” You request and he smiles, kissing your tear streaked cheek as he interlaces his longer fingers with yours.

Humans and Na’vi can fuck, but we’rnt designed to. His dick is overwhelimgly big and will really injure you if the two of you aren't careful about this.

You both gasp sharply as his tip breaches you.

It hurts, it’s agonizing. It’s the kind of pleasure pain that you didnt even know could exist. Everytime you think you can adjust, he pushes in another inch. But oh, how you missed it. Being so full it feels like you’re going to burst. You’re pussy flutters as it fights to take him and you focus in on his face.

It’s all scrunched up in heavy concentration. His lips speared between his sharp teeth in a way that has them almost bleeding.

You can't have that. You tug him into a kiss, soothing the abused flesh with your tongue.

“I-I dont want to hurt you” He whimpers as his forehead rests against yours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay” You hum to him, grasping at his hand even tighter “I love what you do to me. I love how you feel”

When he bottoms out you think he must be in your ribs. Hes still, letting your body get used to him. Trying to be kind. You want to tell him that there’s no getting used to his size. That he could fuck you every day for the rest of your lives and he would still feel just as massive.

“Please” you wail instead “please”

The first gentle snap of his pelvis has you both reeling. Your thighs lock around his thin hips, urging him. You can take it. It only takes a little urging for him to lose himself. The harsh stretch of it has you shaking as your over sensitive pussy tightens. You’re coming again, less intense the the previous orgasms, thankfully.

Neteyam had been so focused on making you feel good that he’d neglected his hard, weeping cock. His balls are so full that he knows he’s not going to be able to draw this out.

You know you have to look stupid, mouth hanging open as you raggedly gasp for breath, letting out punched out sounds as Neteyam pounds into you. You cant look away from his face though.

It’s mesmerizing, all of it. The sounds he lets out. The way that his braids sway with the rhythm of his pleasure seeking body. His broad shoulders, bulging biceps and forearms- you are so fucked.

You’re so in love.

“Please Y/N” He wheezes as you squeeze around him, letting go of your hand so he can wrap both of his arms around your lower back “I can’t hold it. W-where should I?”

Oh. Oh, he’s the sweetest man. He always has been.

You peck his lips, not minding that he’s too lost in his own pleasure to really kiss you back

“Come inside me. Come inside me. Come inside me” it’s a heated chant, broken and breathy by the erratic rhythm of his hips and he buries his head in your neck, wailing in the skin there.

Just for a moment, lost in the haze of sex, you can tell he forgets his own strength. Thrusts into you so hard that you scream out in pain, the mushroom tip of his long cock batters your cervix relentlessly. Its a sharp, startling sensation that you’ve never known but you ride it out for him. Desperately trying to keep your whimpers of discomfort at bay.

When he comes, his whole body goes still and ram rod straight. He hugs you tightly to him. You wish you could see his face. Next time, hopefully.

He’s Neteyam, the mighty warrior. The dutiful son. The next clan leader but as he shakes and twitches and basks in the afterglow you can't help but want to baby him. But stroke his back softly, rubbing the residual tension out of his tired muscles.

He’s your big ol’ pussy cat, you’d always teased. He purrs like one every time you’re affectionate with him.

You can’t help but run your hands along his sensitive spine. Let the length of his tail run through the loop of your fingers. He grins and flicks it from side to side. He’d always thought your fascination with it was amusing.

“Are you okay?” he mutters, still hidden in your hair as he starts to come back to himself and you hum, moving up to pat his braids.

“Mmhmm” you’re maybe not as capable of making words as you though you were. He chuckles and hugs you. Holds you in his big arms in a way that makes you feel untouchable.

The two of you lie in that room for as long as you can, until he has to start heading back to Home Tree, it’s almost morning and his parents are early risers. They’ll look for him if hes not in his tent…

It's hard. Letting him go. Even though you know he’ll be back. You keep pulling him back in for kisses, holding onto his muscular arms until he laughs and peels you off of him.

“I’ll be back my love. I’ll always return for you”

You frown but agree, pushing him away to get re-dressed- “How am I supposed to go back like this! Neteyam I don't have any pants!”

He’d shredded your shorts and panties. Literal tatters of cloth are all that’s left.

Neteyam cracks up, almost keeling over. Thinking he’s oh so funny. It lightens the situation and makes letting him go- watching him disappear back in the forest a little easier.

You end up having to pull your fortunately oversized t-shirt down as far as it can go as you make a mad dash across the facility, back to your dorm. You fall asleep grinning, thinking about how the panties had been a necessary sacrifice.

———

Norms on late night watch, keeping a bored, admittedly not sharp enough eye on the security camera’s feeds. With the rainy season, came an influx of Slinths’. It made sense to have a lookout, and somehow he’d gotten saddled with an overnight shift.

He’d definitely fallen asleep for a few hours. Not that he’d tell anyone of that fact.

There is nothing that could prepare him for what he see’s on the screen, over in the desolate East Bay. First, he thinks that he’s hallucinating, his sleep bogged eyes playing tricks on him.

He rubs them hard with his knuckles, not believing the image that is large and clear on the security footage.

It’s Neteyam. Inside the facility which almost never happened. And he’s bending down, his lips locked with Y/N’s . Kissing her hard and long before she punch’s in the code, and opens the air locked door to let him back out into the shadowy eclipse.

Norm’s learned a lot living on this strange moon- Pandora was mysterious. Full of things his brilliant mind would never understand. So he does what he does’ most of the time.

Minds his own business.

So I’ve had this idea cooking for months, but didn’t have the bandwidth to get it written down. The ideas wouldn’t translate to page and I still kind of feel like they didn’t butttttt whatever. This is pure self indulgence. I am so much more in love with Neteyam now. He is SUCH a good guy. Ugh.

Also, please remember that my requests are OPEN! Send in all that good shit. Come blue alien brain rot with me!

[blasphemecel]

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 0.9k TYPE: Meet-ugly (community service 💀), Crackfic WARNING(S): None? Dick jokes ?

There is a pair of shears in your hands and an ugly man to your left.

Actually, he’s not that unfortunate looking, but he seems like he should know better than whatever that excuse of a hairstyle is supposed to be.

You snip away at your government-assigned bush little by little while humming and stroking your chin in fake artisan appreciation, eyes darting between him and the shrub. Though you’re supposed to be working on this together, he hasn’t been doing much aside from pretending to prune whenever the supervisor passes by.

“Do you think I could shape it into a penis?” you ask, flicking a leaf with your finger.

The guy spares you one hateful glance before he crosses his arms, perhaps to signal that this is your battle to fight alone.

“I know they want them to be squares, but I’m into abstract art. Like really into it,” you say, lying.

He doesn’t respond.

You cut a dead branch and throw it at him, which prompts him to evaluate you like one might examine a particularly watery piece of shit out on the street. “So what’re you in for?”

“I’ve been ignoring you for fifteen minutes,” he snaps, picking up the specific stick you tossed at him from the ground and aiming for your eye when he returns the favor, possibly trying to blind you. You dodge with a smile of mild contentment. “Stop talking.”

“I imagined you to be the kinda pedantic asshole who’d argue that maybe penises aren’t abstract, or about how technically we’re not in jail, so I shouldn’t act like we are.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you imagined,” he says before ripping out another dead branch with his bare hands (even though he also has gardening scissors like you do), immediately ruining the minimal progress you’ve made. “And you’re doing this way too slow.”

You nod, not bothering to inform him of how unhelpful he has been in this endeavor. Not that it matters. You’re not here to be productive. You just have a set of hours you need to fill out.

After a short while of mundane passivity, he realizes your chatter, while irritating, at least provided something to stimulate his mind, meaning an excuse to be annoyed. He says, “I got a parking ticket.”

“Really? Community service just for one parking ticket?”

“... I got sixty parking tickets.”

“Well, sounds to me like your parking is more in the style of post-impressionism than realism, but what do I know, I’m not a doctor.”

He ignores the twine of bullshit you just strung together, asserting himself above the usual game you fall into with people where they run around in circles riling themselves up trying to explain to you that you are talking nonsense. Instead he takes it in like it is natural and asks, “And what did you do?”

“Fraud,” you say, lying a second time. In reality you tried to shoplift a mop, although apparently both you and the item were not as inconspicuous as you believed.

“Since when do they give community service for fraud?”

“Hey,” you raise your hands in mock surrender, “it was a small-time fraud.”

“Yeah, whatever that means.”

“It means I ball like Milken,” you say.

“I don’t know who that is.”

You feel generous enough to elaborate, “Michael Milken.”

“That wasn’t an invitation for you to keep talking,” he rolls his eyes with the attitude of an invisible camera capturing his expression and turning him into a gif for people who describe themselves as ‘sassy’ to use, “nor is it helpful to anyone who doesn’t concern themselves with trivia about American scammers.” The way he says the word ‘American’ makes it sound like some kind of malaise.

“What do you concern yourself with, then? What’s your name?”

“That’s cute, but you don’t need to pretend you don’t know who I am.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together and wrinkle your forehead in an ugly manner as you struggle to conceive of what he’s on about. “Know you? Have we met before? I admit I went to that lame piano bar once, but I don’t remember anyone from there.”

“Do I look like you met me at a fucking piano bar?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Michael Kaiser.” There is a cadence of importance in his tone, so maybe he thinks his name means anything to you, which it doesn’t.

“Mike Kaiser.”

“No, not like Milken. You know how. You heard me say it.”

You turn around to go back to your gardening, deciding to work on your penis shrub project. Of course, it’s not coming out successful — there is not even a hint of a phallic shape, but even so, you must persevere.

This ‘Michael Kaiser’ watches you for a while. “You really don’t know who I am.”

“No, Mikey.”

“You’re fucking irritating,” he says. After some consideration, he adds, “Give me your number. We should go out sometime.”

“Maybe,” you agree noncommittally.

“Alright. Here’s what you’re gonna do. If you can come up with a way for us to get off community service early, I’ll give you my number,” Kaiser tells you, acting like you’re the one who came up with the idea of you two seeing each other again, or as if you’re begging to go out with him on a date.

It is very audacious. He’s standing there with a smug smirk on his face, arms still crossed. You think something’s wrong with him.

Either you’re falling in love or his display of unmedicated mental illness is arousing you because you’re suddenly feeling compelled by his advances out of nowhere, but one thing is for sure:

You’ll never really be able to trim the shrub into a penis.

[sysmedsaresexist]

hey fellas it's me again

systemscringe is using this horrible essay (https://text.is/pluralkit-) to say that systems shouldn't use pk (and by extension simply plural) even though it's blatantly wrong, promotes the "evil alter" stereotype at the end, and DOESN'T EVEN HAVE AN AUTHOR

this stupid essay made me think that sp wasnt something i should use (and sure, its not good for SOME people, but it can be helpful, and it is for me). now that i am using it ive been able to learn more about my system and fronting triggers and i really dont want any other systems to go through what i did.

i would debunk it myself but i feel like yall have more reach than i do, and i also know youre more researched than me and would be able to do a better job.

if u could help that'd be great :)

Sigh. Systemscringe back at it again, making things more difficult for literally everyone. First things first:

Pluralkit, Simplyplural, and anything similar are NOT inherently harmful to people who dissociate.

They’re also not inherently helpful, either.

To say they are always harmful will confuse people on how to recognize the signs of increased dissociation. That makes it harder for people who are actually harmed by using these things to get help. It also invalidates people who are genuinely helped by these tools. These tools do not inherently prevent integration. For some people, tools like these can help them recognize and work with their systems, which is necessary for reducing dissociation.

"To be an integrated human, as Dan Siegel (2010) insists, requires 'differentiation—with linkage,' that is, it necessitates the ability to make distinctions between different parts of the self, to name them as parts, but also to link them to other parts and to the whole of which they are a part." - Healing the Fragmented Selves of Trauma Survivors, by Janina Fisher, Page 21

To say that Real Dissociative(tm) people don’t use these tools is utterly false, a bad excuse to fakeclaim people, and they know it; these tools are popular as hell in the online community, and many people, even people who eventually found them harmful, have used them. Can we please put this “faker” shit to rest so that actual productive conversations can be had?

Personally, I think that there's a lot of things to critique about both pluralkit and simplyplural (hereafter just called pk/sp). They're not perfect -- nothing is! I'd love to have a nuanced discussion about how they can be helpful and harmful to different people and why, but often it feels like I can't have discussions like that. Not when just using pk/sp gets entire subreddits calling you a faker, not when systems who simply dislike pk/sp get called "sysmeds," not when we approach these things as either Always Good or Always Bad.

In reality, how helpful or harmful pk/sp can be is an entirely subjective matter. It's a personal issue to your system and your system alone. I know systems who find pk/sp to be very helpful and I also know systems who find them to be unhelpful, even harmful. In my own experience, I've found that pk/sp made my symptoms worse. So, I just don't use them. It's literally that simple.

Notice how the essay makes such broad sweeping statements about pk. They don't say that it can increase dissociation between alters, they say that it will. They don't say that it can lead to delusions, they say that it will. How about instead of jumping to conclusions, we actually ask the community what their experiences are? I’ll get us started:

I also notice that the essay states that the functions of pk go against treatment recommendations, but I don’t know a single clinician who is using pluralkit to treat their patients. AFAIK, they’re correct that it’s not really an accessibility tool, but it’s also not a therapeutic tool either? So, I don’t understand why they’re judging it like it is one? It’s just a discord bot, dude. It’s not that deep.

I don’t want to glance over the harm they’re talking about, though. Stuff like pk/sp can reinforce dissociation. You can have an unhealthy relationship with them. That’s not specific to pk/sp, though, it can be like this with anything seemingly innocuous. I know some people who self-harm by reading fanfiction…doesn’t mean that everyone who reads fanfiction is self-harming, or that fanfiction is universally harmful. That's why, instead of telling people pk/sp are Bad and Always Harmful, we need to spread awareness so that people actually know how to recognize actual harm and take care of themselves. That’s why I’ll leave this post off with a list of some red flags. Anyone is free to add on, but remember that these are potential signs of harm. If you think your use of pk/sp is harmful or unhealthy, please investigate that with a professional or close loved one!

Some red flags that pk/sp may not be helping you:

Episodes of dissociation, switching, and/or memory loss became more frequent or severe after you started using them

They make it harder for your system to cooperate; you all feel less connected than before

There’s more conflict within the system than before

You feel pressured to say who is fronting or when a switch happened, even if you don't actually know

You feel pressured to create a profile for system members that you don't know a lot about or are unsure if even exist or ones that specifically don’t want a profile

You sometimes wish you had more system members so that you could have more proxies or profiles

You or system members feel like you aren’t allowed to have your privacy or anonymity

You feel like you can't talk in discord servers that don't have pk

Using them makes your system members feel less real / less connected as a system

Using them is the only thing that makes your system members feel real / more connected as a system

You don’t really want to use pk/sp but you feel like you’re a faker or doing something wrong if you don’t use them

[thebibliosphere]

Hey! Silly question because i don't really know how it works but amazon is funky with this sort of thing. Does your payhip let you buy the book for others? Can I buy it and gift it to someone else? Seeing people talk about libraries is making me want to throw out a couple copies but payhip is incredibly unhelpful in figuring it out 🙈

Yep! I actually did a post about this recently but Tumblr seems to have eaten it.

When you go to the checkout, there is the option to give copies of my books as gifts.

ID: Two images side by side. They show a screenshot from Payhip's checkout page set against a rainbow glitter background. In the first image, the form prompts the viewer to fill in their own details. On the second image, the "give as a gift" box is checked, which shows additional options, such as entering the recipient's email and the ability to add a personalized message.

When you click on “give as gift” it opens up more boxes, and you insert the recipients email, and a little gift message too.

They can then download the files to their e-reader or audio listening device of choice. It autoloads into Apple Books for me, and als Kindle, but depending on the age of the device they may need to follow the Payhip to Kindle guide to get it to work.

You can also, if you don’t have a recipient in mind, donate copies to my giveaway pile. I’m actually doing a giveaway this month for my birthday so everyone should keep their eyes peeled for that.

(yes, to those who keep asking, I am going to do a giveaway pile for the audiobooks. I just haven’t figured out the bonus reward yet 😅)

Hope that helps!

[chronicallycouchbound]

Guide to interacting with people with psychosis spectrum disorders and psychotic symptoms

If someone who has psychotic symptoms is talking to you about their hallucinations or delusions, do not suggest:

That they are inherently violent or dangerous Why: Statistically, people with psychosis are more likely to be victims of violence, not perpetrators. They are more likely to be killed by police than people without mental illnesses.

That their hallucinations are actually reality and everyone else can’t experience it Why: this can cause further dissonance between reality for the person, especially if they’re actively experiencing symptoms. It can lead to derealization and depersonalization, and exasperate or trigger hallucinations and/or delusions.

That they are a prophet, god, all powerful, etc. Why: along with the above reason of causing further separation from reality, many people with psychotic spectrum disorders experience delusions, one common type of delusion is called delusions of grandeur, which is a specific delusion around perceiving oneself or one’s accomplishments as greatness or of higher status than others. This specific delusion can be dangerous because it can lead to the person believing that they are immune to consequences, including physical harm to oneself. By affirming beliefs of the person being god-like, it can trigger or exasperate this delusion. This is especially common with people who have Bipolar type 1 with psychotic features and they are in manic states.

That they should just meditate Why: Meditation often isn’t safe for people with psychosis! Studies show that unguided meditation is especially risky, because without focusing on reality, people with psychotic symptoms are more likely to have hallucinations, or have depersonalization/derealization.

That you can see/hear it too, when you can’t/lying to agree with their hallucinations Why: This will absolutely exasperate symptoms, also it’s lying and is wrong and a genuinely horrible thing to do. This one should be obvious.

That they should just use cannabis or other psychoactive drugs Why: THC and other psychoactive compounds, can trigger psychotic episodes in people who have or are predisposed to psychosis, and trigger anxiety and hallucinations, which can exasperate symptoms. That being said, individual experiences may differ greatly, and they may be able to use psychoactive substances with no issues, but to suggest it as a cure-all or without a proper understanding of its possible negative side effects can be dangerous. Also, many antipsychotics and other psychiatric medications interact with many psychoactive drugs, so it’s important to know if it’s physically safe for them to use both at once.

Things you can say/do instead!

When actively experiencing symptoms/episodes:

Maintain a calm and steady tone of voice, don’t yell.

Explain what you’re doing before you do it, and try to avoid sudden movements which can scare or jump someone

If they have an action plan, follow it. I also urge you to remember that they’re scared right now. They likely don’t want to hurt anyone, but they’re terrified. Find ways to be safe, preferably that don’t involve police (there are lots of statistics around why this is unhelpful and can be dangerous)

“I understand that you feel scared right now, let’s find ways to be safe through this.” Be supportive! Psychotic symptoms are similar to symptoms of any other mental illnesses, when someone is depressed or anxious, we often reach out with kindness, remember that people with psychosis also need that compassion and consideration.

“We are at [location], I am [name] we are [relationship to person], we are safe” Talking about reality can be really helpful, most people with symptoms need some guidance around basic understandings of reality, affirming what is real can help them distinguish what is and isn’t. An important note, reality checks can sometimes be more harmful than helpful. Usually, a person who needs a reality check will just ask the questions: “Who are you?”, “Where are we?”, Etc.

Sometimes, doing reasonable things to help them feel safer is necessary to help them calm down enough that they stop having severe symptoms. For example, someone who is afraid that people are watching them might want to cover windows and lock doors, help them create a safe space for them mentally by doing that. Some requests might be a bit odd, but harmless, like putting salt in the doorways so demons can’t get in, you can do that, or find alternatives to help them feel safe. It’s important to try to create this safe space while also affirming reality.

Try not to focus on the specific hallucination, but rather on their feelings, for example instead of talking about the demons or details about the demons, talk about their feelings about the demons, and how you can make them feel safer. It can help them feel secure to have someone in reality helping them stay safe while they cope with these scary symptoms.

Ask permission before touching, consent is particularly important for people with psychosis, we are often stripped of our right to consent while in episodes.

Offer snacks, stuffed animals, or other comfort items

When talking about their experiences, diagnosis, or when not in episodes:

Ask how you can be supportive, both in and outside of episodes, some people need help with remembering medications, or someone to call when they’re scared and having symptoms. Sometimes it just helps to be able to explain what they’re going through and have someone just listen. They know their needs best.

Help them come up with a crisis/safety plan for when they have episodes, it can literally save their life, or at least make it more manageable and sometimes less scary.

Check on them if they seem off, have life changes, or are isolating.

Learn their warning signs and help them stay safe before they have episodes, and hopefully prevent them from happening or being more unmanageable.

Offer to do reality checks if that's something that helps them

Offer to do medication reminders ( if you're able to)

I was diagnosed with Bipolar 1 with Psychosis when I was 18. I have many psychotic symptoms including hallucinations, delusions, derealization, and depersonalization. This was written from my own experiences, research, and recommendations from providers. I highly recommend seeking out more information and experiences about psychosis to gain a more comprehensive understanding of it. No guide is one-size-fits-all, and this is definitely incomplete in many ways, but hopefully, this provides some insight or education for you.

[chimchiri]

Poll Adventure: Rarijack Dinner

Index | [prev] - Part 05 - [next] Special thanks to @babydarkstar for putting out the great writing!

Previous Poll:

~~~

Sunlight filters through the leaves as Applejack sits up from her place under the apple tree. Winona, who had her fluffy head resting on AJ’s chest, gives a thoughtful sniff as she gazes up at her owner, pushing up to sit on her hind legs.

AJ meets Winona’s curious gaze with a worried look of her own.

“What am I gonna do, girl?” she sighs, “Got myself wrapped up in all sorts’a trouble now.”

Winona turns her head to survey the expanse of apple trees surrounding them before giving AJ a side-eyed glance and a withered sneeze, as if that should solve every problem she’s got.

AJ smiles wearily and scratches behind the dog’s ears, patting her soft head before tugging again on a fluffy ear, lost in thought.

Asking family is out of the question at this point. Everybody’s got chores, and talking to them would only mean more work for her or Big Mac. Lord knows what kinda fuss they’d make about it if she tells them too soon. After her chores, she needs to do as much as she can to make tomorrow easier, and finish gathering her thoughts on the date, as well as getting anything she needs for it. Tomorrow she’ll have to finish up whatever work she started, get ready for the date, and leave. She’ll tell family later, but right now she can’t deal with that extra stress.

One of her friends would be better for today. Maybe she’ll ask for help and won’t even need to say Rarity’s name…she can only hope. The absolute riot that would result would be too much to handle. And besides, she wants to keep it quiet in case things don’t work out.

There are two questions lingering in her mind.

She’s lost on what to wear. With all the time she’s spent around Rarity, one would think she’d know exactly what to wear to impress her. But honestly, she thinks about the complexities of fashion about as much as she thinks about men—which is to say, hardly at all. If she didn’t have Rarity’s voice in the back of her mind gasping about formalwear and Manehattan social status, she’d wear the nicest pieces in her closet and call it a day. Ultimately, she knows Rarity will appreciate any effort she makes for their date, but AJ wants to impress her.

Then there’s the gift. The Element of Generosity deserves something meaningful and special, and AJ knows she’ll appreciate it.

That should be all…but maybe she could ask her friends for general advice as well. After all, AJ’s never felt more serious about a date in her life.

Each of her friends have their strengths and weaknesses, and all have the ability to offer advice. But which one should she ask?

Naturally, Rainbow Dash is the first to come to mind. They’ve always had each other’s backs, always pushed one another to be better at everything, striving to be the best. Bickering and teasing is their love language, no matter how relentless. But. With all that spunk and chaos in such a tiny figure, AJ’s pretty sure Rainbow would explode if she had to keep AJ’s date a secret. She also wouldn’t dare miss an opportunity to tease AJ about finally getting over herself to make a move with Rarity. But underneath her mischievous demeanor, she cares for AJ a whole heap; she’d help out however she can. AJ just isn’t sure what Rainbow’s advice for a romantic date would look like. It could easily be an hour of intermittent hysterical laughter, followed by the most unhelpful string of words she’s ever heard. “Just like, be yourself, dude. Roll with the punches. Seriously.” Or it could be wildly profound, incredibly insightful information—Rainbow’s personality is harlequin, unpredictable at times.

Fluttershy, however, is the complete opposite. Timid and quiet, sure, but she’s got the natural elegance and poise that could be helpful in this situation. As a friend, she’s a good listener and would take AJ’s worries to heart. Even if she found out AJ’s date is with Rarity, she would definitely keep the secret (maybe a few animals would hear the news, but that wouldn’t bother AJ). If AJ remembers right, Fluttershy has a bit of fashion experience…that could help a lot. However, she worries that the visit might take longer than it should—Fluttershy isn’t known to be decisive, and AJ definitely needs some cold hard advice.

Then there’s Twilight. AJ has never actually heard Twi talk about anything romantic, so she’s clueless if she has experience. But—Twi has an analytical predisposition to any situation, and could give AJ exactly the kind of information she needs. She would without a doubt take AJ’s questions seriously. With all that knowledge swarming her head, she’d likely go so far as to calculate all the pros and cons about every possible scenario and decision, and recommend what would fit best, accounting for factors like windchill and commute time while she’s at it. Spreadsheet, chalkboard, slide presentation, the whole shebang. And, like herself, Twilight appreciates tradition and routine, and probably knows what AJ would like as well. The only thing AJ worries about is Twilight focusing too much on little details and ending up not helping her at all, leaving her back at square one after taking the long way…

Finally, AJ considers Pinkie. Admittedly, she’s…not AJ’s first choice. “Silly” is her middle name, along with “goofy” and “rambunctious.” It’s not always easy to drag Pinkie down from the cotton candy castle she mentally resides in. Her whimsy is endearing and can always pull AJ out of a sour mood, but is that something she has time for right now? Surprise confetti from the Party Cannon is not the vibe she wants to bring to this date. But maybe AJ isn’t giving Pinks enough credit. From what she knows of her and her sister Maud, they prioritize each other to the fullest extent, and there’s nothing ridiculous about a friendship between sisters. Pinkie has an entire basement full of data on what each of her friends and family and neighbors likes, just so she can make them smile on their special day. Maybe a lighter mood won’t hurt, since she’s been such a worrywart lately about everything. But besides brightening her day, could Pinkie give sound advice about what to wear and how to impress Rarity.

AJ can’t decide, but she’ll have to.

Maybe she should start walking to town and talk to whoever she runs into first.

Maybe she needs to listen to her gut. It hasn’t failed her yet.

---

Tag List: @mrrrpmeow @babydarkstar @butwerebothmares @chaosdraconequus @chrysaliswife @gaywombat @mulan-but-gay @jubjub05 @dan-chan-rn @sanybaby @horserepository @justletmesnarkandbark @colourswirlcannibal

[nicolos]

stew

The sad part of it is really that it takes Nile two months to realise she’s never seen Andy cook.

“Wait,” she says, “what do you mean she’s not allowed to cook?”

Andy just shrugs, perfectly unhelpful as she loves to be. The Andy sitting across the kitchen table from Nile is a far cry from the woman who shot her in Afghanistan, and not just because she’s now mortal and prone to problems like hangovers that last and back pain. More importantly: she looks less tired, somehow, hasn’t made fun of Nile about her Cross again, and gets a sick sort of satisfaction from watching Nile flounder over the important things, like which famous historical figures her new friends-slash-family-slash-anti-dying-club had slept with or the weird set of unspoken rules and laws and tripwires they all have built in that everyone else can see and Nile can’t. Yet.

“It means Andromache has been banned from our kitchens,” Nicky says coolly. Joe raises his brows, probably at the full name, but he’s grinning.

Nile ignores him, because he’s an instigator, and says, “Why not? Andy, what’d you do?”

“Who said I did anything?”

Nile narrows her eyes at her. That tone of voice elicits many things: trust is not one of them. Joe outright snickers.

Nicky says, voice low, “You know what you did.”

Joe mouths, “She does,” and then says out loud, “It’s not so bad, Nile. Nicky’s banned from football. And I’m not allowed to do any plumbing.” He says this like it’s a bad thing.

Nile suspects that they’ve also put an unspoken ban up against her audiobooks. Every time she puts one on doing her laundry, somebody comes up to speak with her, until she’s forgotten all about it. She also keeps losing the old iPod she found with the books on it, and whenever she finds it, it needs to be charged.

It’s ridiculous is what it is. She says so. “Andy is four thousand years old.” Andy raises her brows but doesn't comment one way or the other. Joe makes a so-so face, which really just means Nile’s wrong. She soldiers on. “I don’t care how bad she is, she should be able to cook!”

Andy shrugs around her bowl. “I can cook.”

“We’re all adults. We should have a roster. It’s not fair that it’s just Joe and Nicky.” Of them, Nile herself is probably the weakest: she can make a few comfort foods, but she’s never mastered the art. She’d like to, though. Part of it is wanting to hold onto the food she remembers before she can’t get it anymore and she’s forgotten, and part of it is that it’s just practical. But left to her own devices, she just eats whatever’s there. A roster will help.

And it wouldn’t feel right to leave Andy off it. Nile tells herself this is about fairness and house chores and not about the strange panic that takes over her whenever she imagines never eating her mom’s good again and then remembers that (a) Andy looks like she's maybe five years younger than her mom, and (b) she, too, is mortal. Which is dumb. It’s not like she thinks of Andy as anything like her mother. If anything she’s the bad influence friend everyone’s mom warns them about, but who everyone wants to—

Anyway.

“I don’t mind,” Andy says. Nile turns to Nicky.

Nicky says, “If you wish,” and then looks at Joe like he’s expecting Joe to speak up on his behalf.

Joe grins. “I have no objections.”

Andy’s turn on the roster comes up two days later. She spends the morning out of the house and comes back with two bags full of groceries. When Nile goes to help her with it, bewildered, it turns out one of the bags is half filled with low shelf life candy, and that Andy doesn’t need help, though she looks amused that Nile would offer.

Then she gets to it. She’s not what Nile was expecting, which was someone a little unsure of herself in the kitchen. She chops fluidly and fast, as good with a knife on meat and veg as she would be with it as a weapon, and she moves like she knows what she's doing.

But what she’s doing is—strange. At first glance, the dish is beef, with thick chunks of meat cooking in enough oil to thrill her grandma. But then she throws chunks of apple in alongside the potato. As it cooks, she starts rolling out some dough, with more eggs than make sense. Pie, Nile thinks, even if it's not a pie she knows of, but she rolls it out by hand into sheets of pasta, all while stirring the beef concoction. A bar of the dark chocolate she's munching on goes into the pot, followed by a concerning quantity of nuts. When she grabs an orange, Nile thinks it's for a snack, but she peels the whole rind into a neat spiral and tosses the rind into the pot before offering Nile a slice. When the pasta is cut, she just—starts flipping the sheets into the pot.

Nicky looks into the kitchen as he passes by and starts muttering to himself in Italian. When he opens his mouth, Andy only says, “If you’d rather do it yourself,” and Nicky walks away.

Oh, Nile thinks. “You won’t get out of the roster just by making bad food, you know,” she says, though she suspects she probably will. If it's terrible, she figures she’ll get takeout. She already saw Joe surreptitiously hide a bag of something in the back of the fridge. She hopes he got enough for her.

Andy only winks at her. Nile sits down.

In go raisins, cashew nuts, sticks of cinnamon, the stalk of some plant she doesn't even recognise, more garlic than even Nicky uses, and a whole tablespoon of turmeric. Then come the chillies: long, with the heads sliced off, thrown in whole. When the room starts smelling like heat, she cools it with cups of milk. More vegetables follow: large chunks of carrot and beet, strips of cabbage and slices of—ugh—eggplant go in along with a store-bought sauce she can't read the label of, spoons of cream, a quarter of a bottle of alcohol she's pretty sure isn't meant to be used to cook with, and—somehow—even more chocolate, and some of her favourite morning cereal.

This is the point at which Nile decides to stop watching. It feels a little like tearing herself away from a car crash, but she makes herself go look for her iPod. She finds it between two cushions of the sofa twenty minutes later, at 3%.

Andy calls Nile in to help carry the food out when she's done, half an hour later. Nile’s a little bit afraid of the monster she's created as she looks into the pot. It looks less than appetising, a deep brown that looks thick and has things floating in it and cheese melting on top. On the sides of the pot, she can see bright red oil floating in place.

When she carries it out, her iPod is already gone from where it was charging by the kitchen table. Nile glares at Joe and Nicky, who look back innocently (Joe) and distractedly upset (Nicky). It has to be Joe, she figures.

Andy serves them the frankenstew in deep bowls with toasted slices of Nicky’s last sourdough next to it. With no ceremony at all, she grins and says, “Dig in.”

Then, without waiting for the rest of them, she starts eating.

A little relieved that Andy isn’t going to leave them to eat it alone, Nile takes a small, tentative bite.

The dish is—not bad. She takes another bite, and then another.

The stew is delicious. Nile can feel her arteries clogging with every bite, immortality or no immortality, but she thinks she doesn't even care. It's hot enough to leave her tongue prickling after just a couple of bites, but she wants to keep eating it. It's sweet and salty and sour; the meat falls apart in her mouth but the nuts crunch. The pasta is not really pasta at all, thicker and softer and melting in her mouth like soft bread. The broth is creamy and thick, and none of the vegetables are too mushy or draw too much attention to themselves. It's the best thing she's ever eaten, she thinks. She never wants to eat anything else again.

When she looks up, she must look a little guilty, because Joe pats her arm comfortingly. “I know,” he says.

Andy hums around a mouthful and says, slowly, “It’s not as good as I remember it.”

Nicky looks despairing. He’s staring into the bowl like it insulted his mother. Maybe it has. “That’s what you said last time,” he says.

Nile considers things like nostalgia and pride and cholesterol and having more of the pot for herself, and slides Andy’s half-full bowl towards herself. “You’re off the roster, Andy. And you’re banned from cooking again,” she says authoritatively.

“I thought making bad food wouldn’t get me off the roster?”

Nile nods. This is worse.

Joe grins, ducks into the kitchen, and comes back with the box he had hidden in the fridge, which now that Nile looks closely says Andy Dinner. Andy laughs at her as she eats it.

Nile decides to stop looking for her iPod.

[moxie-girl]

DRDT EP 13 theories/predictions

figured I should collect all my thoughts in one place b4 the new episode drops…

Levi’s Secret

I don’t think Levi is the killer, especially not after the last episode. Given how he apologized for being unhelpful + derailing the trial, he knows what he’s confessed will cause a big stir but he’s confessing it to be helpful in some way, possibly one or more of the following:

1. He knows talk will turn to motive secrets soon with alibis exhausted, and wants to stop people from thinking whoever’s secret Arei had was the one to kill her before that discussion takes up too much time.

2. He wants to change the topic to motive secrets because he thinks one of the other unrevealed secrets relates to Arei’s murder.

3. The murder he committed is similar in some way to Arei’s death and he needs to confess his secret in order to share what he knows.

4. Or, because of the murder(s?) he committed, he knows more about bodies than Arturo and wants to share what he noticed (Levi autopsy guy from now on??)

While Levi’s almost definitely off the hook for Arei’s murder, I’m still a little worried for him though…

Ace’s (Almost) Murder

I’m really hoping we address this sooner rather than later, especially because I think it has to be relevant to Arei’s murder, since the common consensus is that they were both hung? I’m also a firm believer of the theory that someone else (coughcoughHu) tried to kill Ace and Nico walked in on it and saved him…

The Murder Method

I’m not going to go into a deep analysis of the evidence here, especially since other (smarter) people have already analyzed the crime to hell and back - I just figured I’ll put this here too with the rest of my thoughts. I believe that Arei’s murder was almost definitely done through a complex sort of Rube Goldberg machine, utilizing tools like the playground spinner (hence the tape) and heavy jugs full of water (hence the fish)… I don’t know who this implicates, but hopefully we’ll get more clues soon!

The Possible Culprits

I’m not listing off who I think it is based on who could have committed it and how or anything, rather, this is who I think is narratively the most suspicious right now, in no particular order:

Rose

I really don’t want it to be Rose!! But she’s been acting super super suspicious in the current trial and it’s hard to ignore:

- continuously pushing for people to vote/‘just want this trial to be over already’ (paraphrased)

- hasn’t fallen asleep once, I don’t think?

- keeps repeating ‘I was definitely asleep at that time’ when asked for alibis, instead of just saying no

However, there’s like no reason or motive for her to have murdered Arei, so maybe there’s another explanation…? (Accomplice!Rose??)

Hu

I’m convinced she was the one who tried to murder Ace, with good intentions, so it’s possible she switched targets to another bully? She’s definitely latched onto Nico as someone she needs to protect, whether or not they want her protection…

I know she has an alibi, but she brought it up a little out of the blue, possibly also to protect Nico, and Nico barely agreed with her (it’s also been shown that Nico will fake an alibi so as not to be suspected, which is technically fine since they weren’t the murderer so it just means they aren’t falsely suspected? But it also means they might just agree to Hu’s false alibi to get Ace + the class off their back, which Hu could be using to her own benefit?)

Overall, I’m still not sure about the possibility of this once since if Hu really did murder just to remove someone she saw as a problem, considering what we think her secret is, it seems more likely that she’d give up immediately, “sacrificing” herself for the “greater good”…

Whit

Honestly, I don’t really think it was Whit, but by GOD is he suspicious right now. But then again, he’s always suspicious, and it doesn’t feel like in a murder way? I almost don’t want to suspect him of being the mastermind… it feels more like a red herring (ba-dum-tss)

Other Misc. Thoughts

Secrets

I agree with the common theories on whose secrets are whose, especially since one of those theories has already been proven correct. I do wonder whether any of the other unrevealed secrets will prove to be related to the murder in any way, or if they’re just still unrevealed for personal reasons. Also, as much as I want David to reveal that his secret is surely actually Teruko’s, I think narratively he’ll probably hold on to that for another chapter or two (it’s not like anyone can disprove him…)

Ace

Given that Ace has been oddly quiet the last episode, plus I’m sure his reaction to Levi’s secret is gonna be… something, I think it’s leading up to one of two things:

1. Ace passes out from blood loss and talking putting too much strain on his throat.

2. Ace has a full-blown anxiety attack as the stress of the whole situation finally gets to him.

Teruko

I’m excited for Teruko to school us all on… something! Likely the murder method or the secrets… however, since this episode is the 13th episode, releasing on Friday the 13th, it also seems likely that something really unlucky is about to happen :(

☆ ☆ ☆

Anyway, that’s all! Actually wait hold on I should make a bingo card or something…

aaand here are some cards! totally didn't take me like an hour to figure out how to make or anything lol...

[robbingprince]

Well-polished

Laurent was just deciding whether or not he should bother staying alive when the door opened.

“Oh,” said the man who entered, “You’re awake.”

Laurent said, “Yes, quite,” and turned as far as he could with the chains, which was not very far. There was nowhere to conceal the rock he had sharpened, and so he closed his fist around it. “Should I not be?”

“Pardon?” a step towards him, and another. He could not see a face, couldn’t raise his head high enough for it, but the torchlight still fell on polished boots. A large man, probably very tall.

“Did you need me asleep. I could pretend, if it helps. I can be very convincing.”

“Can you,” somewhat amused.

Laurent made himself frown. “Yes, I have the snoring down to the dot. Shall I give you an example?”

“Please do.”

Closing his eyes to a slit, Laurent said, “Snore.”

The man gave a bark of laughter so hard it startled them both. “Oh,” he said, afterwards, “oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to—yes, that was convincing indeed.”

“Are you speaking in jest? I can’t see your expression. The collar, you know, it rather impedes the motion of my neck.”

A breath travelled between the stone walls. It was a small cell, sound should not echo within it—and yet. “I cannot unchain you,” the man said. “I don’t have the key.”

“Right. Was there another reason you came, then? Now that you’ve been convinced of my snoring.”

“I… well. I wanted to see if you were all right.”

“All right,” Laurent said flatly.

“Yes. I’m aware the question is rather silly. But you were obviously beaten badly before you were brought here, and I wanted to check if you were treated.”

“Treated?” Laurent swallowed a whole host of unhelpful remarks. “No bones were broken, if that’s what you mean.”

“No. I mean, I knew. I wanted to see if you were treated for pain.”

That stalled him for a moment, as he was possibly shocked, or more likely disoriented, unable to find the point of deceit. It was difficult to divine true motivation out of boots, no matter how well-polished. If he wanted to get anywhere at all, Laurent would need a face.

“I am not,” he said, “in much pain.”

“You are aware you’re still bleeding.”

“Yes, thank you. I never said the stickiness was pleasant. If you had a spare cloth I would be most grateful.”

“I—” the boots came closer. “Will you tell me your name?”

Laurent rolled his eyes to the floor. “Do you normally take prisoners without verifying their identity.”

“No. No, I don’t. You are not my prisoner.”

“Ah. Of course, as you are not the one with the key. You’re not simply employed by my captor, either.” The quality of leather suggested high-born at least. “In that case, you are either a co-conspirator, or.”

“Or?”

Laurent allowed himself to straighten up marginally. It hurt like a bastard in his shoulder, possibly re-opening the knife wound, and did not allow him to see above well-defined, stocky shins; it was, still, something he could do. “Or you are here to decide if you’ll help me.”

“Help you,” Boots said. “I cannot help you.”

“Because you don’t have the key,” Laurent said. “Yet.”

A long silence stretched between them, somehow also echoing in the small chamber. Perhaps the cell had grown when Laurent was unconscious; perhaps it had blown and blown until it was humongous, a cavern or a palace, empty and gleaming. Waiting to be filled with sounds, most likely screaming. The imaginings were strangely soothing; Laurent had to recall his wits before he lost track of this very important, possibly course-altering conversation.

“I must leave,” said the horribly non-cooperative owner of the boots. “I will be back. I’ll bring water. And some food.”

“Very gracious,” Laurent said, genuine and inordinately annoyed. “I will be right here.”

A choked sound, some shuffling, then the creaking of the door. Before it had the chance to close, Laurent said, “It is Laurent, by the way.”

The man almost ran back to him. “Pardon? What was that?”

“My name. You asked. If you’re still interested, it is Laurent.”

“Yes. Yes. Laurent.” In the part of conversation where a proper gentleman would give his own name, the man said, “Thank you,” and left, shutting the door carefully behind him. He seemed to possess that key, in any case, which meant he could probably obtain the other.

He was not a small man, which might be problematic when it came to one-on-one fisticuffs. Feet that large, and shins that thick, and the voice that came deep and sure: the man was either a giant, or a very near thing, and he was probably well-versed in fighting on top of it, because that was just Laurent’s luck. He would need more than simple strength to outdo him.

It would be much easier to plan with a face.

Read the rest of chapter 1 on AO3!

[gamerstar111]

Makoto & Nagito’s Survivor’s Guilt

i have many thoughts ab why makoto and nagito would have an interesting dynamic but today i’m thinking abt how their history parallels a little (like a lot of things ab them. they’re foils of each other i cld write an essay about it)

this is just a very long (kind of disorganized) tangent about lucky duo’s traumas and how they shaped their mindsets (and how they might understand each other better than people think at first)

i kind of get nervous anytime i put my analyses out there for people to percieve, but that’s okay. we’re facing fears today. LOL

——————————————————————————

i don’t think many people think about how makoto probably understands the survivor’s guilt nagito deals with better than anyone could, because he also has the mentality that he didn’t deserve to survive the things he did, and that his luck had a lot to do with his survival. they cope in very different ways, but at the core of their emotions they both feel that same “i don’t deserve to live” guilt.

——————————————————————————

Makoto’s Survivor’s Guilt

makoto doesn’t attribute as much of his trauma (which is the killing games he went through) to his luck, it doesn’t factor into his thinking as much as it does for nagito. junko says it at some point in the anime: makoto’s luck isn’t like nagito’s! he wouldn’t ever be able to utilize it like nagito can, because it isn’t consistent, it comes and goes super randomly. it keeps that mf alive and that’s IT 😭

(/j. it does more for him than that but im not talking ab his luck rn so BACK TO HIS SURVIVOR’S GUILT.)

he leaves the first killing game with this huge unofficial responsibility. he lost 10 of his classmates and it’s said that he was able to get his memories back after leaving, so that means he remembers the two years he spent with them. they were his friends :,)

and some of them did more than him to contribute to surviving. i know it’s for comedic effect in the game, but makoto is kind of consistently told by byakuya (and sometimes kyoko & others) that he’s stupid or unhelpful. + he already struggles with feeling like he’s not interesting, memorable, or unique in any kind of way (mr. “i’m average at being average”)

but nevertheless, he survives the games, (after basically convincing his remaining classmates to NOT sacrifice him. a second time.) and when he does get out, he joins the future foundation, where his nickname as the ultimate hope starts to push him to do as much as he can. and because he’s so determined to save as many people as he can, he opposes the foundation’s plan to kill the remnants, and takes them to jabberwock island. he’s so determined to do as much as he can because he feels like if he doesn’t, he’s wasting the life he was given. it’s implied a few times that he would have killed himself if he didn’t feel guilty throwing away the life that was taken from his friends! people don’t talk enough about how makoto is NOT as endlessly optimistic as everyone thinks

he isn’t completely immune to despair. i honestly feel like his main motivation in helping people and spreading hope isn’t that he lives by it, it’s that he has to do as much as he can to to spread it to OTHERS because if he doesn’t, what is he doing with the life he has that his friends were robbed of? i could get into the nuances of makoto’s character and how he isn’t just “hope enthusiast #1” but that’s more fitting of a makoto exclusive character analysis. coming soon/hj

the point of that is that he wouldn’t be alive if he didn’t feel like he had to make something of the fact that his classmates died and he didn’t. that’s what motivates him to try and save everyone, no matter who they are or how terrible they are (him saving the remnants, trying to save junko even though he hated her for what she did, and trying to save the future foundation members in the second game, even though they want him dead)

and when he already has this mentality, he goes through a SECOND killing game, where one of his closest friends (i forget if it’s canon they were dating or not, but you get the point) dies as a DIRECT result of him surviving. and instead of breaking down and giving up, he takes it and becomes more determined to end the game. but his despair video shows that he feels so guilty that he survived, even if he doesn’t ruminate in that feeling.

but nagito is the polar opposite

——————————————————————————

Nagito’s Survivor’s Guilt

most of nagito’s character revolves around two things:

His self-loathing

His twisted perception of hope, and his obsession with the concept

putting aside the fact that he has been diagnosed with dementia that definitely warps his perception of reality as it is, when you look into his backstory it makes sense why he thinks the way he does. his childhood pet died in a car crash when he was a little kid, then, when he goes on vacation with his parents (still in elementary school), the plane taking them back is hijacked, and then those hijackers are killed by a meteorite that also kills his parents right in front of him.

he has no other living relatives, so he’s given all of their inheritance, and is said to be free to live on his own. so he’s been alone since he was a kid, and then during middle school, he’s kidnapped by a SERIAL KILLER that held him for ransom, and then let him go after realizing no one was going to come for him. (which is actually so distressing to me like r u kidding me that’s so SAD HE HAD NO ONE WILLING TO EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE HE WAS MISSING?? UGH. ANYWAY.)

any chance at happiness Nagito has had was ripped from him in that cycle of good and bad luck. he starts to become fixated (and eventually, unhealthily obsessed) with the concept of hope, so that he could try and find some meaning to his life beyond killing anyone who'd ever shown him any kindness or cared about him. and then after ALL OF THIS, in high school before hope's peak, he gets diagnosed not only with CANCER, but also DEMENTIA. Which, typically, only affects people over 65!!!! he was probably not older than 16 when he got diagnosed!!!! he's then told that he probably has less than 6 months to live. he tells hajime this whole speech about how he realized all he wanted his entire life was to be loved by someone, and he didn't want to die alone, but then says that he was just quoting something, curious to the sympathy it would get him (i don't really believe that, but THAT is a nagito analysis topic. back on topic again…)

then he gets invited to hope's peak. he tries to refuse, but they insist, and so he finally agrees. but then, during his second year, junko starts to ruin things, and yet ANOTHER person he started to care about is killed right before his eyes (chiaki). of course, then, he goes on to bring as much pain and despair to anyone he can under junko’s brainwashing

he's fully convinced that he's a curse, and that he's not worthy of living.

——————————————————————————

"ok….. what’s your point??" you didn’t ask???

the difference between nagito and makoto is that makoto took his grief and made it into motivation, while nagito took his grief as a personal reflection, and spiraled down into a mental decline.

i think the main reasons for this difference is that, first of all, nagito's trauma has been his entire life. since he was a little kid up to even currently (when he's around 21-22), all he's done is cause or witness death anywhere he's gone. watching your childhood pet AND parents die before your eyes has to impact development in some kind of way (not to mention he was entirely alone since ELEMENTARY SCHOOL)

makoto had a very average, but nice life to that point. he had nice parents that were together and happy, his little sister that he's super close to, and while he didn't have any super close friends, he wasn't on particularly bad terms with anyone (as shown by his reaction to seeing sayaka, and sayaka's reaction to knowina him). all of the trauma and death he experienced happened to him when he was an adult (even though he thought he was 16-17 when the first killing game happened, he was most likely 18-19 and junko can erase memory but not alter brain development. so.)

second of all, makoto had support from his friends! he had the other 5 survivors, and then during the second game, he had kyoko and aoi to support him and get him through it. nagito grew up experiencing all of this grief and guilt and trauma entirely alone, even during the killing game he was in. his classmates treat him awfully even before he has his mental break doing incredibly unhinged shit like blowing up the gym (it's so. hard. to defend him sometimes.)

i still haven’t gotten to my point oh my god i talk a lot. BUT THE POINT IS they cope extremely differently, and arguably have different levels of trauma, but they experience the same survivors guilt. both of them feel like they don't deserve to be alive, and that others around them deserve so much better than they do. i really feel like makoto would be able to empathize with nagito's struggles with survivor's guilt and self worth, because he feels the same things! clearly, not to the same extent, but again, that goes back to the support makoto got during his experiences. it's one of the many MANY reasons i think makoto and nagito would be able to help each other heal, instead of being unhealthy like a lot of people say. (of course it depends on when because obviously, servant nagito meeting ff!makoto would not be healthy. that man would skeeve makoto out MASSIVELY but that dynamic is also an interesting one to explore.... ANYWAY.)

nagito's obsession with hope would give him an unhealthy attachment/idolization of makoto at first, but i really do believe that after he recovers a little more from junko's influence, a few days with the guy would make nagito realize that they're way more similar than he thought and that respectfully, makoto isn't as amazing and godly as he thought LOL

——————————————————————————

TLDR: they have very similar experiences, the only difference between them is that makoto had support that reminded him he wasn't to blame for the deaths of those around him, while nagito was isolated from EVERYONE from a very, VERY young age, and it led to his mental decline. i really believe they would be able to help each other heal a lot and that's why i love them so much :(

side note: genuinely nothing makes me as sad as nagito and his dog 😞 every time i mention them i get so upset

[bookwyrminspiration]

Hi there!

I had some questions (or statements I wanted to discuss I’m not sure what to call them) because I genuinely don’t know much about the subject. I’m on anon right now but I may comment on my own account later. Also don’t feel obligated to answer if this makes you uncomfortable.

So I was wondering if you could articulate any thoughts on proshipping in the kotlc fandom? I wanted to know your thoughts as from my understanding (and please correct me if I’m wrong) you see it pretty positively, and I wanted to better understand the ‘issue’ (idk what to call it)

Anyways I thought I should include what I already know.

So I understand that when people participate in proshipping it does not reflect their actual worldview.

I understand that it is fictional and really doesn’t affect real life.

I think my issue with proshipping has to do specifically with it happening in the kotlc fandom, and this has to do with Keeper of the Lost Cities being a kids series. My problem isn’t specifically with that, but mostly with the amount of “kids” participating in our fandom space (not actual kids like ten year olds but from my understanding we have an array of people from ages 13-16 who I would consider pretty young)

I just worry about when people make posts about, for example, one of the main cast and an adult in the series, because the Keeper casts ages may closely reflect the actual ages of people in the fandom, we’re creating an unsafe environment and these posts may affect what these ‘kids’ think is okay in real life or for themselves.

Anyways, I wanted to share my thoughts but I really mean it when I say I want to hear your thoughts, I don’t think I know enough about the ‘issue’, especially from the other perspective.

(Also, this isn’t really about your call out post about call out posts, I’ve just seen you liking some pro shipper stuff so I thought you might be interested in that sort of thing)

Hi! Thank you for being respectful about this. First, I avoid labels like "anti" or "proship," as they tend to create an unhelpful us vs. them dichotomy. Especially when, like these terms, they have strong associations and generate strong reactions upfront. It's not, in my opinion, conducive to productive conversation

I believe that all fiction, including disgusting, depraved, uncomfortable fiction, should be allowed to exist without restriction. Whether that's incestuous, predatory, or otherwise.

We don't have to read/watch it. We don't have to like it. Or be comfortable with it. But it needs to be allowed to exist.

It's existence does not harm us (the most that happens is we realize, we are uncomfortable, and then we stop watching/reading/etc. and move on), and there is no way to reliably moderate fiction. It will always be arbitrary, and those arbitrary distinctions will always be enforced by the privileged with power, who will use it to create their narrative and silence others.

The issue many people get stuck on, like you, is about children. Now I'm not saying this is what you're doing, but I'd like to bring up the Think Of The Children logical fallacy. It's a more recent one, so it's less known, and I'm just linking the wikipedia.

What it does is switch to emotional thinking, creating this idea of these helpless little things in danger we need to protect. It creates moral panic, because what are you gonna do? Argue against the children? You monster! It can shut things down.

And while children are young and still learning and need guidance, they're also people. They have their own thoughts, reactions, and choices. They use their childhood to practice that, which is aided by fiction. Fiction is a practice run for the real thing; it can be that learning and guidance

Children take what they see in fiction, where no real people are hurt or in these scary situations, and react. They form opinions, determine what they think is right or wrong, and they have more room for error. For example, it is safer for them to misjudge an actually malicious adult in a story, learn what the warning signs were, and be more cautious going forward with no real life consequence than to make that mistake for the first time with a real person.

This is just a general overview. To specifically address this fandom and its ships, I'm going to start with this: when you were 14, did you think it was okay to date an adult? Did you ever see incestuous art/fic and start wondering if it was okay to date your sister?

Yes, consistent, repeated exposure of concepts from influential places can normalize them. Is that a genuine risk here, or what is happening? Have you seen it happen before on a wide enough scale to be generally applicable? I, of course, cannot speak for everyone, but I already knew those weren't okay by the time I joined the fandom at 13. Yes, 13 is young, but 13 year olds are capable of complex thought and reasoning. Their minds aren't going to be changed that easily, and a lot of them would probably resent the implication (even if unintentional, this is nothing against you) they couldn't figure it out for themselves. At least I would've

And more specific to keeper again: we have maybe a handful of these "weird" and "gross" ships/aus/etc. Posted by a number of people I could likely count on one hand, incredibly infrequently. This is a genuine invitation to think it through: what is that going to do?

Is that from enough places with enough power to normalize these ideas? Who is seeing it? How impressionable are they? Have they already formed ideas of right and wrong? Will this change that?

The conclusion I've come to is: 13 years old is young in the grand scheme of things, but at 13 years old you are capable of complex thought. I don't think the limited number of these "objectionable" topics and posters, which/who can be easily avoided, is going to normalize or make people think it's okay irl. It didn't happen with us, did it?

And I think, to some extent, limiting exposure or controlling media access takes away agency and choice, and that young people being able to experience difficult concepts in fiction before seeing them in real life is beneficial. This often then leads to "but what if they read something really icky they hate!" to which I say, kids aren't going to do things they don't want to. They won't watch movies, shows, or read books about things they're uncomfortable with or disinterested in. I simply put the book down and read something else.

And if they're being forced to, that's a different problem, and the solution is not to make sure the media doesn't exist or they can't access it.

This has been long, broad, sometimes specific, and more all in the attempt to be thorough. What it boils down to is: I don't think what you're worried about is going to happen, or is even slightly likely enough to genuinely plan for or worry about (not that you're unreasonable for worrying, though), and I don't think there's any trustworthy course of action that would separate the "good" from the "bad" and reliably, fairly decide who can see it and when.

I hope this helps answer your questions :). I'm happy to talk about it more, though I don't want to devolve into arguing, so if that starts to happen (with you or anyone else), I will likely end the conversation.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Immediate Aftermath

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 26, Danny starts to deal with all of the things he's learned and everything that's just happened.

...

It’s while they’re flying home that everything crashes on Danny’s shoulders at once, and he knows Jazz can tell.

“Okay,” she says.  “Blame me.  Say you found me having lost track of time at the library.  Let’s go sit down.”

Danny doesn’t even have it in him to fight her, so he flies up to the roof of a nearby building and sets them both down.

Jazz reaches out and pulls him into a hug.

“You don’t have to forgive them, you know,” she says.

Danny pulls back to look at her.  “I do forgive them.”

Jazz laughs a little bit.  “I figured.”

“I just… fuck,” Danny says, dropping his head into his hands.  “I didn’t think they’d do that.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t think Vlad would do that.”

“I know.”

“Should I have seen this coming?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fuck,” Danny groans, leaning back on his hands.

Jazz leans back next to him and pulls him back in for another hug, and this time Danny stays there and rests his head in her shoulder.

“Jazz,” he says, hoping they can both ignore the slight shake in his voice.  “Why did they do that?”

“I don’t know,” Jazz whispers.  “You’re gonna have to ask them for that part.”

“I know a little bit,” Danny says, pulling back and looking up at the sky, where the sun is starting to set.  “Vlad made it look like I wanted to hurt them by telling them that Plasmius worked for me.  That’s what Sam said.  But she was also having an entire breakdown when she told me, I don’t…” he trails off.

“You already said you want to talk to them again, and I’m sure they won’t object,” Jazz says.  “And if they do, I’ll object to them.”

Danny snorts.  “No, you’re staying away from them until I know you won’t kill them,” he says.

“That’s gonna be a while.”

Danny laughs a little again, but his smile fades after a second.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, turning to face Jazz.  “You are the one who got kidnapped out of nowhere.  And you didn’t know what was happening like I did when I went there.”

Jazz takes a shaky breath, and runs her hands along her legs.  “I’ll be okay,” she says.  “Just a little shaken.”

“You sure?” Danny asks.

Jazz nods.

“Will you find me if you need to talk?” he says, catching Jazz’s eye to make sure she knows he’s serious.

She smiles at him, and nods.  Danny opens his arms for a hug, and they both lean forward and hold each other tightly for a moment.

They both pull back, but he can tell neither of them wants to leave yet.  And they’ll have more to talk about, but neither of them seem to want to do that for a while either.  So instead, they both sit there in silence for longer than they probably should.

But they are going to have to deal with their parents eventually, so after a while, Danny stands up.  “Let’s go home.”

“Danny,” Jazz says, standing with him.  “I really am so sorry this happened to you.”

Danny gives Jazz the best smile he can manage, which isn’t a very good one right now.  “Thanks, Jazz,” he says anyway.

…

It’s clear when they get home that their parents notice something happened.  Of course they do, they’ve been gone too long and neither of them exactly look their best.

Danny’s not sure how he expects them to react to it, but he knows they’ll do something.  They’ve been getting better about actually paying attention to what’s going on in his and Jazz’s lives.  Really nice most of the time.  Super unhelpful right now.

They both sit down at the table for the spaghetti that’s long gone cold, and don’t make a move towards eating it.

“So,” Mom says, crossing her arms.  “You want to tell me where you two have been, and what you were doing?  Where are your crutches, Danny?”

Danny opens his mouth to give some version of Jazz’s library excuse, but it gets stuck on the way out, as he finds himself not wanting to lie to them.  At least, not all the way.  So, he reaches out and takes Jazz’s hand, then takes a deep breath.

“I don’t need the crutches,” he says.  “My leg is healed.”

His parents eyebrows shoot up in disbelief, so Danny rushes on before they can question that one much.

“And Tucker and Sam got caught up in a ghost attack,” he says.  “With this Wisconsin ghost.  And it’s… we’ve been having a fight lately.  I wanted to show them I was still going to be there to help.  That’s what Sam was here for.”

The fact that none of that was technically a lie felt weird.  He had left out some crucial context, though, which feels a little more normal.

“Sam and Tucker got caught up in a ghost fight?” Mom asks.  “Are they okay?”

Danny exchanges a look with Jazz, not sure what to say.  “They were manipulated by this half ghost who’s also your old college buddy” doesn’t sound like the best idea.  “They’ve been hunting me” will also come with a lot of follow up questions.  Heck, “no,” will come with at least some follow up questions.

“They’re…” Danny starts, and trails off.  “I don’t know.”  That’s the best he’s got.

His parents both exchange a glance, then turn back to him.

“Sweetie, how long have you three been fighting?” Mom asks.  “Why haven’t you said anything?”

Well, Danny doesn’t know what to say to that, either.  He’s finding himself way too tired of lying to them to do it.  But he’s still not ready to tell them the truth.

Jazz reaches out and squeezes his hand under the table.

“Can I…” Danny says hesitantly.  “Can I tell you later?”

Mom blinks, looking confused.  “What?”

“I… there’s something I haven’t told you guys,” Danny says, looking down at the table.  “And I’m still not ready to tell you.”

“Danno, what do you mean?” Dad asks, sitting forward.

“Exactly that,” Danny says, looking down at his hands.  “I just… I need a little time.  Okay?”

He can feel his parents looking at him, but he doesn’t raise his gaze.

“Danny,” Mom says.  “Are you safe?”

“I am now,” Danny says.  Mostly.

That doesn’t seem to help, as he looks up to see panic in his parents eyes.

“Really!” he says, holding up his hands.  “I’m okay!  I promise.  I’ve been going through a lot, but I’m okay now.  I’m just not really ready to talk about it with you guys.”

“Will you tell us if you need our help?” Mom asks, giving him a concerned look.

Danny thinks it over, and nods.

Mom takes a deep breath, clearly still not happy.  But after a second, she looks at Dad, and then the two of them turn to face Danny.

“Okay,” Dad says.  “But we really don’t like this, son.”

“I know,” Danny says, but he doesn’t say anything else.

There’s a long stretch of silence, and then Mom sighs.  “I’ll reheat the spaghetti,” she says, and picks up both Danny and Jazz’s plates.

“I’ll get some drinks,” Dad says.

Danny turns to Jazz as they both start doing that.  Jazz gives him a smile and wraps her arm around his shoulders, giving him a quick side hug.

“Good job,” she says.

Danny smiles back at her.  “Thanks.”

The dinner is tense and uncomfortable, but they know he’s keeping something from them, and they’re not making him tell them, and those are the important parts.  And for the first time since the accident, Danny goes to bed knowing that someday, they’ll be okay.

…

Danny makes the executive decision that he’s skipping school the next day, because he’s earned it, goddammit.

Jazz doesn’t argue with him, and tells their parents that he’s sick, who according to her didn’t look like they really believed her but let it slide anyway.

So Danny gets up after Mom and Dad head down to the lab, makes himself some frozen waffles, and then heads back upstairs, planning to spend the day plopped in a bean bag in front of his video game console playing Doomed.

Before he can boot it up, however, he hears a knock on his window, and he glances over to find Valerie hovering there in her suit.

He climbs up and heads over, pulling the window open.

“Hey,” he says.  “Are you sure your suit is safe?”

“Oh yeah,” Valerie says.  “I had Tucker go over it and find all the spy cameras last night,” Valerie says.  “He still has the diagrams he grabbed, he says it wasn’t hard.  No one can see me anymore.”

Danny nods.  “Okay,” he says.  “Good.”

“Can I come in?” Valerie asks.  “I know we’re taking a break right now.  I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Danny nods again, and steps back to let Valerie come inside.  She lands gently on his floor and retracts her suit.

“I think I’m alright,” Danny says as she turns around.  “Or I’m gonna be, at least.  I’ll just, you know, need a bit.”

Valerie nods.  “Okay,” she says.

“A lot more makes sense now,” Danny says.

“Yeah, I’d imagine,” Valerie says.  A second passes, and she suddenly holds up her hands, a look of alarm on her face.  “I swear I didn’t know, if you were wondering.”

“Oh.”  Danny shakes his head.  “I wasn’t.”

“I did wonder why Vlad suddenly liked them so much more than me,” Valerie says.  “But I didn’t know who they were.  And I don’t know why he went after them, either.”

“I believe you,” Danny says quietly.

Valerie looks back at him, obviously concerned.  “You’re really okay?”

Danny smiles a little.  “Yeah,” he says.  “It’s easier now that I know what actually happened.  And… I’m doing a lot better than I was, I think.  I’ll be okay.”

Valerie nods, though Danny can’t tell if it’s at what he said or if it’s more to herself.  “You know you can talk to me if you need to?” she asks.  “I mean, you don’t have to, obviously, just, if you want to.”

“I will,” Danny says with a smile.  “Thanks.”

“Good,” Valerie says.  They’re both quiet for a minute, and then Valerie speaks again.

“I have an offer for you.”

“An offer?”

“Yeah.  I can handle the ghosts for a week.”

Danny blinks.  “You can handle them?”

“Yeah.  I’ve wanted to pay you back for a while anyway, for picking up the slack when I took a break.  Take the week, work things out with everyone.  I’ve got it for a little bit.”

Danny hesitates.  “I don’t know.”

“If I need your help I’ll come get you,” Valerie says, with a tone that means she absolutely doesn’t think she’ll need his help.

Danny laughs a little.  “Okay,” he says.  “Thanks Val.”

Valerie smiles back at him, and for a moment they just look at each other, until Valerie shakes herself.

“Well, that’s all,” she says, pulling her suit back on.  “Just wanted to check on you.”  She starts to head over for the window.

“Hey,” Danny says before she flies out of it.

Valerie turns to face him again.  “Yeah?”

“Take your mask off.”

Valerie does, looking a little confused until Danny walks over and gives her a short, chaste kiss.

“I’ll be seeing you,” he says, pulling back.  “And I’m really looking forward to fighting ghosts with you.”

Valerie gives him a warm smile, and another quick kiss back.  “You better hope you can keep up, Fenton,” she says.  Then she gives a wave and flies out the window and off.

Danny smiles after her as she goes.

And then, as soon as she’s out of sight, he transforms and flies out after her, but in the opposite direction.

He didn’t want to mention it while she was there.  But Valerie made him realize something.  If she doesn’t have the slightest idea why Vlad went after Sam and Tucker specifically, that means he didn’t bother to bullshit an excuse.  And while he seems to have done that with Sam and Tucker, since Sam’s whole panicked speech included something about Vlad saying Phantom was trying to kill them, she didn’t seem to know the real reason either.

And Danny wants to know the real reason.

And he can only think of one person who can tell him that.

[welcometololaland]

technically thursday here, but whatever! have some WIP from product placement ;) TK and Carlos are still hung up on the red vs. blue issue which is really an excuse for me to wish carlos was in a different profession.

Thanks for the tags @heartstringsduet @carlos-in-glasses @strandnreyes @alrightbuckaroo @three-drink-amy @lemonlyman-dotcom @freneticfloetry @bonheur-cafe i loved reading all your posts and they are in the queue ;)

When Carlos opens the door, he’s met with TK himself, an irritated expression on his face and definitely not unconscious.

“Babe, why are you knocking on—”

“Can I come in?” TK interjects in a huff. Carlos is extremely confused, but otherwise somewhat relieved, and he thinks it’s the latter which prompts him to stop asking questions.

“TK, this is your place too,” he says carefully, stepping aside to let his fiancé pass. “You don’t have to ask permission to enter.”

“I just wanted to give you the option of telling me to go and sleep at the firehouse,” TK mutters, attempting to kick off his shoes. “You know, because that’s all I do there.”

“TK—”

“You're a dick sometimes, you know that?” TK snaps, growling as the laces on one of his shoes get stuck underneath the other. 

Carlos narrows his eyes, watching TK fight with his sneakers. “You’re the one that told me my job was basically pointless.”

“I didn’t say that,” TK says hotly, looking up. “I said that you do a lot of paperwork. Which isn’t even untrue!”

“It’s— It’s not what you said, it’s how you said it,” Carlos protests, even though his argument is sounding weaker by the second. To his credit, TK didn’t actually say that police work was a desk job. In fact, Carlos is pretty sure he said that. 

Still, the stubborn part of him – which is definitely inherited from his father’s side of the family – refuses to let him back down. 

“Well I’m sorry you’re so sensitive about people talking about what you do for a living,” TK replies.

“That’s not an apology,” Carlos points out. “Besides, you’re the one who got sensitive when I said that thing about eating meals and sleeping on shift, which is not untrue either.”

“But it’s not all I do!”

“And I don’t just sit there and fill out forms!”

“Well I guess you hand out speeding tickets,” TK says venomously. “But that’s still technically paperwork.”

“You’re only mad about that because you got pulled over the other week and I told you I couldn’t get you out of it.”

Somehow, through their bickering, they’ve brought themselves closer together. TK, now shoving his shoes somewhere in the vicinity of the rack, Carlos cornering him against the wall. It’s becoming abundantly clear what’s about to happen, and TK doesn’t seem to be keen on addressing it. 

“TK,” Carlos warns, shoving down three thousand indecent thoughts as TK reaches for him. Instead of backing away, Carlos crowds him up against the wall and cups his jaw, thumb brushing over the apple of TK’s cheek while his fingers toy with the ends of TK’s hair.

“Carlos,” TK bites out, blatantly staring at Carlos’ mouth.

Carlos reaches his hand around further, threading his fingers through the soft strands. It feels familiar, grounding, and when TK pulls him in by the hips so they’re pushed into his own, there’s no mistaking where this is going.

“We said we wouldn’t,” Carlos gasps, wondering why they’re both so hard. It shouldn’t be normal to be so turned on from TK’s bitching, but somehow he is. He always is. There’s something about TK that is inescapable, even when he’s getting on Carlos’ nerves.

“We said we wouldn’t while we’re angry,” TK whispers, his nose nudging against Carlos’ as he slots their faces together, their lips millimetres apart.

“You’re not angry?” Carlos murmurs, rolling his hips into TK’s, even though he knows it's unhelpful to his prior statement.

TK whines in the back of his throat, something that does nothing but draw Carlos in closer. “I’m not angry,” he protests. “I’m frustrated.”

Open tag because it's very late but also tagging: @rmd-writes @rosedavid @ambiguouspenny @catanisspicy @noxsoulmate @lightningboltreader @nontoxic-writes @hoko-onchi-writes @sunshinestrand @jesuisici33 @orchidscript and @goodways FOR THE FIGHT