#impossible nomad

[tohakumaru]

i know i said i wouldn't post wips for this but i can't resist, i love my little guy

[sage-knight]

Tec grew up with Valerie in the Bakkers. They got into sooo much trouble together and were basically inseparable. He’d run his mouth or get an insane idea for something fun to do, and she’d make sure he didn’t die. They had their share of conflicts, especially as teenagers, but always ended up back together. When she left he chose to stay behind, a surprise to most. Maybe he realized she was right, or maybe he just missed her, but he followed soon after.

[miss--river]

[hyacinths-in-a-storm]

Pondering the relationship between Sozin and Zeisan.

[gothhabiba]

🍉🇵🇸 eSims for Gaza masterpost 🇵🇸🍉

Which eSims are currently being called for?

As of now:

eSim plans being called for are:

Nomad (“regional Middle East” plan)

Holafly (“Israel” and “Egypt” plans): code HOLACNG —be sure to include which plan it is in the subject line

Simly (“Palestine” and “Middle East” plans): 15% off with code "EID"

Airalo (“Discover” plan)

If you sent an eSim more than two weeks ago and it is still valid and not yet activated, reply to the email in which you originally sent the eSim. To determine whether the eSim is still valid, scan the QR code with a smartphone; tap the yellow button that reads “Cellular plan”; when a screen comes up reading “Activate eSIM,” click the button that says “Continue.” If a message comes up reading “eSIM Cannot Be Added: This code is no longer valid. Contact your carrier for more information,” the eSim is activated, expired, or had an error in installation, and should not be sent. It is very important not to re-send invalid eSims, since people may walk several kilometers to access wifi to connect their eSims only to find out that they cannot be activated.

If a screen appears reading “Activate eSIM: An eSIM is ready to be activated” with a button asking you to “Continue,” do not click “Continue” to activate the eSim on your phone; exit out of the screen and reply to the email containing that QR code.

Be sure you're looking at the original post, as this will be continually updated. Any new instructions about replying to emails for specific types of unactivated plans will also appear here.

Check the notes of blackpearlblasts's eSim post, as well as fairuzfan's 'esim' tag, for referral and discount codes.

How do I purchase an eSim?

If you cannot download an app or manage an eSim yourself, send funds to Crips for eSims for Gaza (Visa; Mastercard; Paypal; AmEx; Canadian e-transfer), or to me (venmo @gothhabiba; paypal.me/Najia; cash app $NajiaK, with note “esims” or similar; check the notes of this post for updates on what I've purchased.)

You can purchase an eSim yourself using a mobile phone app, or on a desktop computer (with the exception of Simly, which does not have a desktop site). See this screenreader-accessible guide to purchasing an eSim through each of the five services that the Connecting Humanity team is calling for (Simly, Nomad, Mogo, Holafly, and Airalo).

Send a screenshot of the plan's QR code to gazaesims@gmail.com. Be sure to include the app used, the word "esim," the type of plan (when an app has more than one, aka "regional Middle East" versus "Palestine"), and the amount of data or time on the plan, in the subject line or body of your email.

Message me if you have any questions or if you need help purchasing an eSim through one of these apps.

If you’re going to be purchasing many eSims at once, see Jane Shi’s list of tips.

Which app should I use?

Try to buy an eSim from one of the apps that the team is currently calling for (see above).

If the team is calling for multiple apps:

Nomad is best in terms of data price, app navigability, and ability to top up when they are near expiry; but eSims must be stayed on top of, as you cannot top them up once the data has completely run out. Go into the app settings and make sure your "data usage" notifcations are turned on.

Simly Middle East plans cannot be topped up; Simly Palestine ones can. Unlike with Nomad, data can be topped up once it has completely run out.

Holafly has the most expensive data, and top-ups don't seem to work.

Mogo has the worst user interface in my opinion. It is difficult or impossible to see plan activation and usage.

How much data should I purchase?

Mirna el-Helbawi has been told that large families may all rely on the same plan for data (by setting up a hotspot). Some recipients of eSim plans may also be using them to upload video.

For those reasons I would recommend getting the largest plan you can afford for plans which cannot be topped up: namely, Simly "Middle East" plans, and Holafly plans (they say you can top them up, but I haven't heard of anyone who has gotten it to work yet).

For all other plans, get a relatively small amount of data (1-3 GB, a 3-day plan, etc.), and top up the plan with more data once it is activated. Go into the app’s settings and make sure low-data notifications are on, because a 1-GB eSIM can expire very quickly.

Is there anything else I need to do?

Check back regularly to see if the plan has been activated. Once it's been activated, check once a day to see if data is still being used, and how close the eSim is to running out of data or to expiring; make sure your notifications are on.

If the eSim hasn't been activated after three weeks or so, reply to the original email that you sent to Gaza eSims containing the QR code for that plan.

If you purchased the eSim through an app which has a policy of starting the countdown to auto-expiry a certain amount of time after the purchase of the eSim, rather than only upon activation (Nomad does this), then also reply to your original e-mail once you're within a few days of this date. If you're within 12 hours of that date, contact customer service and ask for a credit (not a refund) and use it to purchase and send another eSim.

How can I tell if my plan has been activated? How do I top up a plan?

The Connecting Humanity team recommends keeping your eSims topped up once they have been activated.

See this guide on how to tell if your plan has been activated, how to top up plans, and (for Nomad) how to tell when the auto-expiry will start. Keep topping up the eSim for as long as the data usage keeps ticking up. This keeps a person or family connected for longer, without the Connecting Humanity team having to go through another process of installing a new eSim.

If the data usage hasn't changed in a week or so, allow the plan to expire and purchase another one.

What if I can't afford a larger plan, or don't have time or money to keep topping up an eSim?

I have set up a pool of funds out of which to buy and top up eSims, which you can contribute to by sending funds to my venmo (@gothhabiba), PayPal (paypal.me/Najia), or cash app ($NajiaK) (with note “esims” or similar). Check the notes of this post for updates on what I've purchased, which plans are active, and how much data they've used.

Crips for eSims for Gaza also has a donation pool to purchase eSims and top them up.

Gaza Online (run by alumni of Gaza Sky Geeks) accepts monetary donations to purchase eSims as needed.

What if my eSim has not been activated, even after I replied to my email?

Make sure that the QR code you sent was a clear screenshot, and not a photo of a screen; and that you didn’t install the eSim on your own phone by scanning the QR code or clicking “install automatically."

Possible reasons for an eSim not having been activated include: it was given to a journalist as a back-up in case the plan they had activated expired or ran out of data; there was an error during installation or activation and the eSim could no longer be used; the eSim was installed, but not activated, and then Israeli bombings destroyed the phone, or forced someone to leave it behind.

An eSim that was sent but couldn’t be used is still part of an important effort and learning curve. Errors in installation, for example, are happening less often than they were in the beginning of the project.

Why should I purchase an eSim? Is there any proof that they work?

Israel is imposing near-constant communications blackouts on Gaza. The majority of the news that you are seeing come from Gaza is coming from people who are connected via eSim.

eSims also connect people to news. People are able to videochat with their family for the first time in months, to learn that their family members are still alive, to see their newborn children for the first time, and more, thanks to eSims.

Some of this sharing of news saves lives, as people have been able to flee or avoid areas under bombardment, or learn that they are on evacuation lists.

Why are different plans called for at different times?

Different eSims work in different areas of the Gaza Strip (and Egypt, where many refugees currently are). The team tries to keep a stockpile of each type of sim on hand.

Is there anything else I can do to help?

There is an urgent need for more eSims. Print out these posters and place them on bulletin boards, in local businesses, on telephone poles, or wherever people are likely to see them. Print out these foldable brochures to inform people about the initiative and distribute them at protests, cafes and restaurants, &c. Also feel free to make your own brochures using the wording from this post.

The Connecting Humanity team is very busy connecting people to eSims and don't often have time to answer questions. Check a few of Mirna El Helbawi's most recent tweets and see if anyone has commented with any questions that you can answer with the information in this post.

[renrooked]

Just Roll With Palestine: Keep the Strike Rolling

Hello, #JustRollWithPalestine has come back to Keep the Strike Rolling from January 26th to February 10th. Participation in any capacity will be rewarded, and there are ways for you to help even if you can't donate!

Link to Google form: HERE

If you have any questions feel free to dm me here or on twitter, as well as the rest of the social media mods on twitter: @organbean @ne0neclipse @tinytiefling_ @RenRooked

Additional mods working on this project:

@grassfur @neptunelogs @reed_you_guess

All necessary links and information are in the Google form, BUT for easier access to links and/or for those who just want to donate links to resources to help out, click keep reading!

To Donate:

Feminine Hygiene Kits for Gaza With the Asad Sisters 

Care for Gaza Paypal

Just Roll With Palestine Tiltify (PCRF)

World Central Kitchen

ESIMS for Gaza- Instructions provided NOMAD (iPhone only): https://www.getnomad.app/en/middle-east-eSIM Tutorial on twitter for NOMAD: https://x.com/icarus19897/status/1741297413321637972?s=20 SIMLY (iPhone and Google Play): https://www.simly.io/regional-esim Tutorial on twitter for SIMLY: https://x.com/CharSequence/status/1719283248721702946?s=20

To personally contact your representatives:

Use this template builder to create your own message to your government representative:

To send a prewritten message:

(US):

(AU):

https://apan.org.au/support-south-africas-icj-case/

(CA):

(UK):

https://www.map.org.uk/campaigns/it-is-becoming-impossible-to-sustain-human-life-in-gaza-demand-a-ceasefirenow

[prismatic-bell]

It’s 4am and I’m having emotions about calling Mesopotamia “the cradle of civilization” so y’all are just going to have to bear with me.

Like okay, there are technically six so-called cradles of civilization: Mesopotamia, ancient Egypt, ancient China, ancient India, and two civilizations in south and Central America called the Olmec (Mexico) and Caral-Supe (Peru). But the one we all learn about in school is Mesopotamia, bleeding into Egypt.

But.

The oldest of those is the Fertile Crescent (Egypt, the Levant, Mesopotamia), clocking in around 12,000 BCE. That’s the 121st century BCE, if you’re wondering. “Behavioral modernity,” I.e. the thing that separates Homo sapiens from Homo erectus and Homo heidelbergensis, began 160,000 to 60,000 years ago. Homo sapiens was found in most of Africa before ever beginning the migration to other continents—by over 80,000 years, in some cases.

And we all know how Africa got treated in the post-Roman era.

How do we know there was no cradle of civilization in Africa? Like. It’s generally taken that “cradle of civilization” means cities, agriculture, and usually-but-not-always a writing system. We also know that if all humans on earth disappeared right now, in 15,000 years the only sign we were ever here would be a millimeters-thin line of plastic in the geologic record. And that’s in a world where we have stainless steel, concrete, the ability to carve in stone…

What I’m saying is, the oldest piece of string in the world is 50,000 years old and it was found in a cave. Huge swathes of Africa used to be green and lush. If some group ten thousand years ago decided to build a settlement out of mud bricks and tied-up pieces of wood in the African jungle, we’d never know today. The entire thing would have washed out and rotted away centuries ago. “Okay but agriculture—” one, not all agriculture is white people agriculture, and some of it is so different we wouldn’t recognize it at all (consider the terraforming east coast Native tribes did in North America that was so different from European farming methods it was taken as divine intervention in primeval forest). And two, I forget how many years it’s estimated to take before our fancy modern crops return to their wild roots once we’re gone, but I’m pretty sure it’s less than a hundred. We literally would have no way to tell anything was ever there.

And let’s say something did, by some miracle of preservation, survive to the “modern cradles of civilization.” Would it have survived subsequent wars and colonization? How about the changing climate as continents broke apart and ice ages came and went? Would we even have found it, given how gigantic it is and how little regard it’s received through the years?

Like. I could be totally wrong. But I also don’t see why it’s impossible for a civilization to have popped up in Africa like thirty thousand years ago for a century or two and then everyone went “ah, fuck this” and went back to being nomads. It happened at Cahokia. The city was abandoned and we don’t know why, but we do know there’s no evidence the mound-builders ever tried to rebuild somewhere else. And right here in my proverbial backyard, in Arizona, we had the Sinagua tribe, and in like the 1500s or so they just…dipped. There was a whole city built into the side of a cliff (two of them, actually, a few miles apart) and for unknown reasons they were abandoned. Archaeological evidence suggests the Sinagua moved northeast to join the Yavapai and Hopi tribes, but we have no idea why they left the Verde Valley. Water was still plentiful and even if Beaver Creek had started to dry up in summer—which is what it does today—only five miles away was a second city built around a sinkhole that’s still full of water today year-round (although it’s not potable by modern standards due to arsenic content in the water). Both were abandoned sometime in the 1400s for unknown reasons, and before you say “white people,” I will remind you white people didn’t come to America until 1492 and the site wasn’t discovered until over 100 years after it was abandoned.

So yeah. Maybe ancient civilizations in Africa so long ago, or so thoroughly erased by racist Europeans, that we’ll never know.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[freelancearsonist]

I Was Fixed On Your Hand of Gold

➔ Lucien Flores x afab!Reader - 1k

➔ When Lucien gets bored, his hands start to wander. OR Lucien uses his fingers for good evil underneath the table at dinner with your friends.

➔ Rated MA for exhibitionism kink, fingering (r receiving), pet names (baby), references to smoking/nicotine use, no use of y/n, reader has female anatomy but no pronouns used. [please let me know if i missed any :)]

➔ i don't know anything about this man other than that he looks scummy and i'm in love with him. thank you to the dieter bravo brainrot club discord server for feeding my madness and to @shakespeareanwannabe for proofreading this incoherent horny babble <3 title is from 'would that i' by hozier wow what a surprise another cece fic named after a hozier song

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

It’s growled so low in your ear that you could almost believe it’s imagined. But with the way his fingers are dancing against your burning skin, tracing little circles along the length of your thigh, there’s nothing but intention in his voice–regardless of how raspy and deep it is.

Eager fingers push your skirt out of the way, impatient yet calculated. He moves slowly and with deliberation, careful not to show anything above the tablecloth.

“Don’t ignore your friends, baby,” he murmurs low into your ear so only you can hear.

It reminds you of where you are, and why this can’t happen right now. There’s five other people gathered around the table, all smiles and camaraderie and little sips of cheap wine. It’s been a good evening, really. But they’re your friends, not Lucien’s. He won them over within five minutes of meeting them and he’s been bored ever since. And when Lucien gets bored, his hands start to wander.

It’s wrong and you should really stop him. You should push his hand away before his nomadic fingers can climb any further up your thigh than they already have. But he finds the wet spot that’s pooling against your panties, and there’s no denying how much you want it.

It takes every ounce of your restraint not to moan when he finds your clit. It’s like his fingers gravitate to it, like there’s some kind of magnetic pull–even through the barrier of your panties, the cocky bastard doesn’t struggle at all.

He doesn’t even blink. His thick, practiced fingers swirl against the seat of your panties with ease and he doesn’t react even remotely when his fingers immediately come away soaked.

You’ve never been so wet in your life, watching him chuckle at the story your best friend is telling across the table and all the while pretending that his greedy, heavy fingers aren’t pushing your panties aside to swipe through the gathering slick.

Your knee jolts before you can control it and knocks against his thigh, thankfully not causing any noticeable disturbance to the rest of the table’s occupants. But the look he gives you is enough warning–head tipped down, dark eyes impossibly darker, jaw set. He looks dangerous, and it makes your traitorous cunt soak his fingers even further. He’ll only tell you once: if you can’t sit still, you’ll be going home aching and unsatisfied.

You need to come so bad in this moment that you feel like you might cry–so, despite feeling rather like a scolded child under his gaze–you lock every muscle in your body to the best of your ability and let the horrible, delicious onslaught continue.

You swallow thickly when you feel the first real press of his finger. It swirls from your clit down to your entrance, and that’s all the warning you get before he slowly, torturously presses it into your cunt.

He lets it rest, just for a moment, knuckle deep–he knows that even this single finger is a slight stretch. After a moment or two to adjust, he withdraws completely and you have to fight back the whine that builds in your throat. But before you can betray your impatience he’s back, overwhelmingly so, two fingers pressed deep and curled in the exact way that he knows will make you shatter. It’s cruel to do this to you right now, to find that most sensitive spot when you can’t moan or even shudder in reaction to the delicious onslaught of pleasure.

His fingers are relentless–there’s a skilled craft to the way his arm stays completely motionless while his middle and ring fingers flutter and scissor against your g-spot.

Your thighs shake from the sensation the closer he brings you to release. As much as you try to ignore it–to focus on the current story about something that happened in a grocery store parking lot last Thursday–he’s bringing you to the brink so fucking fast that there’s no denying it. There’s no hope for composure, especially once his calloused thumb joins in to swirl tight, rapid circles over your clit.

Above the table, you make eye contact with one of your closest friends and laugh breathlessly at the meaningless story they tell. They never even suspect that below the table, you’re squeezing and fluttering around Lucien’s hand as the most intense orgasm of your life sweeps through you.

It takes a solid few moments for you to be able to breathe normally again. And Lucien, the smug bastard, just leans back in his chair and spreads his leg comfortably, free hand resting behind his head in the most casual manner possible like he didn’t just make you come all over his fingers. And then, when he’s sure no one is looking, he brings his right hand up to his lips and sucks his fingers deep into his mouth–looking directly into your eyes as he does so. He licks every drop of your cum from his digits so carelessly in front of your friends that it nearly makes you come again.

You think he’s had his fill. Your head stops swirling and he laughs along with your friends and you think he’s done. You’re wrong. 

He takes your hand in his and laces your fingers together, guiding you ever-so-slowly to palm him through his loose sweatpants. His cock is straining, hard and insistent, against the thick cotton fabric–it makes you squirm in your own seat a little bit.

He’s impossibly casual about your touch as he wiggles a half-spent pack of Marlboros from his breast pocket.

“Go ahead, baby,” he mutters right into your ear. “Take care of your fuckin’ mess.”

And who are you to decline after he so generously took care of you?

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

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[saijspellhart]

Things I liked about the Netflix ATLA and some critiques:

Before you read. Please go watch the series, take off your blinders and keep an open mind. It’s surprisingly good. This review has spoilers.

They reordered some scenes so that emotional moments would have a larger pay off. Like getting to see and experience Aang’s relationship with Monk Gyatsu, and seeing his tribe before it was destroyed. So when he has his breakdown in the air temple with Sokka and Katara later, you really feel and understand his agony.

Azula is introduced earlier, with a story running simultaneously with the Aang’s journey but not involved with his. So she has a chance to be more fleshed out and explored before she becomes a major threat. Only time will tell if this more complicated Azula comes close to the animated one. Big shoes to fill, but not a bad start.

Fire Lord Ozai plays a more sinister and oppressive role. Not a faceless boogeyman anymore. You get to see his machinations and the cruel games he’s playing with his family, and see the emotional abuse that warps them.

Appa is adorable as fuck, and so is Momo. So well animated, such gorgeous care put into them.

Kyoshi, Kuruk, and Roku make more of an appearance. With Kyoshi narrating the prologue. And if you loved the novels you’ll see they incorporated more of Kyoshi and Kuruk’s backstory from the novels than what we saw in the animated cartoon.

The acting was competent, even if a little wonky at times. I found Sokka very endearing, I loved the kid they cast as Aang and you can tell they really tried to find a balance between serious and playful. They didn’t always hit it, but the effort was there.

Zuko was great. I think they nailed him and he had great chemistry with the actor playing Iroh.

King Bumi was great, I love how they made his internal struggles more complex. He wasn’t just a crazy old man anymore. He was a crazy old man who was weary and worn down by the horrors of loss and war. A crazy old man who struggled to reconcile that the best friend he lost is the avatar and wasn’t there for him.

I loved the costume and set design. It was like stepping into the actual world of ATLA. Cities were complex and well constructed. Every setting was incredible and the attention to detail was intense.

Zuko’s boat is full of artifacts he pilfered from the Air Nomads while hunting for the avatar.

They changed how Aang got the bison whistle so it makes more sense and fits more seamlessly into the story. It never made sense why a random peddler would be selling a bison whistle if air nomads and bison have been gone for 100 years. Not impossible for a peddler to do, but not probable. The Netflix series actually gave more meaning for the artifact and changed how Aang received it.

Emotional points in the show are now more intense and brought me to tears.

Commander Zhao is more competent and conniving, and his presence felt more dangerous and less comedic.

Sokka’s outright sexism was changed from putting girls down, to just manly machismo, talking himself up. Not gone, but not degrading. They decided to let the sexism message shine more prominently with the northern water tribe, rather than tackle it twice with Sokka too. (Sokka’s sexism being solved in one episode was never well written to begin with. And the animated series quickly forgot about it and moved on to him tackling more important issues, like his being a non bender inadequacy, his leadership journey, his physical combat journey, and him finding himself as more than just the funny sarcastic guy.) For time constraints, it was better the Netflix series did not to tackle the same problem twice, especially when you might not have the resources to give both sexism issues the gravity it deserves. By focusing the sexism problem to the northern water tribe they were able to give Katara more attention.

We got to see Katara’s water-bending go from being ultra sloppy and weak to badass. It feels like they are spending more time focusing on her developing into a warrior rather than being the mom of the group. I’m honestly not sad about it. She’s still the hope ridden, emotional glue, but now it feels like she explores that warrior side a little deeper. It felt so earned when she got the title of master at the northern water tribe finale.

The actor playing uncle Iroh nailed the role. I couldn’t think of a better live action adaptation of Iroh. I love him so much.

The shirshu looks fucking phemonal.

Koh was scary as fuck and I love it. They really nailed his horror elements. Even if I’m a little sad that they changed some things about his face stealing. (He eats faces now to steal them, rather than stealing when someone shows emotion.)

The three actresses who play Mei, Azula and Tailee actually look appropriate for their age. Since they are introduced earlier, they are clearly younger, and since this show is intended to get more seasons, the casting choice made sense as we are intended to watch these girls grow up over the course of the entire show. These actors will get older, and the characters will get more menacing and sharper. It’s great. It’s thoughtful. I love it.

We get to see Zuko’s dynamics with his crew more. And find out that he did more than just speak out against his father at that meeting. His outburst at that meeting saved an entire squad of soldiers, and they don’t even know it. Zuko feels such disdain and bitterness because of the situation, and his crew doesn’t even know why. It’s so complex, you can see how the abuse Zuko endured causes him to take out his anger on his crew, and in turn they are bitter back. And it’s this cycle, that festers. But the crew also grows with Zuko, they change and evolve as he evolves. And it’s such a delight to watch.

They could have cut the Secret Tunnel minstrels altogether, given the time constraints and that the episode was mostly fluff in season two. A fun romp, but not necessary. But the creators knew people loved the minstrels so they found a way to use them anyway. Because they knew they were special. I am thankful for that, even if they show up waaay earlier than they should.

I was honestly more sold on Sokka and Suki’s relationship in the live action. It’s was so adorkable. Do I wish it had more time to develop? Yeah, of course I love a good slow burn. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun as hell watching the two flirt so badly with each other. Sokka being a buffoon, and Suki overstepping and being too rough, before realizing she was being too hard.

Some Critiques:

They reordered some episode storylines to happen at the same time, and while it does bloat some episodes. it’s understandable due the episode and budget limitations. In the cartoon, during the inventor episode Katara didn’t have a lot to do, and during the freedom fighters episode Sokka didn’t have a lot to do. So they ended up combining both stories into one hour long episode in the live action, so that both Katara and Sokka would be involved in something. Is it the best? No. But it makes sense. I get it.

Katara starts off bland in the first episode and it takes a bit for her to grow into the character.

The past avatars can be a bit strong with the doom and gloom, and I wish they’d toned that back.

Koh and Heibei (I dunno how to spell the panda spirit’s name) got combined to the same episode, and Koh stole Heibei’s spotlight. Again, I understand why these got combined, but I think it could have been handled a little better and Heibei should have gotten more closure.

There should have been a ninth episode, placed between the two episode Koh storyline, and the Northern Water Tribe storyline. Why? Because the Koh storyline was really heavy and intense. And it leads right into the season finale. An extra ninth episode should have been added with a more lighthearted tone. Something to ease the tension between the two very intense storylines.

Aang should have been using a glider to flit about the temples in the first episode. But it’s not something that ruins the whole show. It was a dumb that only happens in a single episode in the season.

I really missed Momo and Appa’s presence. They appeared atleast once in every episode, but it was still sad they weren’t more of a presence. Again I understand why. They were so beautifully animated that everytime they were on screen it (without a doubt) cost the production thousands of dollars. They were generous including as many of the unique animals and creatures as they had.

I still don’t think Sokka had enough time to develop a relationship with Yue at the northern water tribe. It was rushed and contrived in the animated version, and it was rushed and contrived in this Netflix version. There also wasn’t any of the chemistry like Sokka had with Suki to make the whirlwind romance work. I never liked the romance from the original, and I wasn’t a fan of it here. But that’s ok, because it’s such a small and insignificant thing.

In conclusion most of the changes I can see made were due to budget, and episode limitations. The creators were clearly trying to bring theater-cinematic quality to what was essentially an eight hour long film. And you cannot deny that this show is stunning. Absolutely breathtaking. Most of the episodes cut were filler, and while hilarious and mostly loved by fans, were stories not as necessary in the grand scope. You could feel the love and appreciation the creators included in this series. It wasn’t soulless, it wasn’t a heartless cash grab, it wasn’t a shot for shot (thank god) but it also didn’t butcher the source material.

I understand that the animated show creators had creative differences with the live action Netflix adaptation creators. But that doesn’t mean that the Netflix series completely failed. As every fanfic writer out there knows, the original authors are not going to love what you create based on their works. Tolkien hated every adaptation of his works, HATED them. But no one is going about saying that the Lord of the Rings trilogy movies were hot garbage. A creator doesn’t have to endorse a project for it to be good.

Netflix ATLA is good, it’s not perfect. And it never was going to be perfect. The cartoon it was based on wasn’t perfect either. But the ATLA cartoon was definitely some huge shoes to fill that set a bar very high. Any adaptation was going to struggle to be just as good.

I think the Netflix adaptation was a treat and a pleasure to watch. I think people should go into it with an open mind and see that it’s not trying to replace the cartoon. It’s a love letter to the cartoon.

PS: According to behind the scenes commentary on the Nickelodeon ATLA cartoon, the reason we didn’t get a season 4 was because the creators wanted a live action film. Nickelodeon offered the original cartoon creators the option to make season 4 or to spend the budget meant for season four on a live action ATLA film. The original creators chose the live action film directed by M. Night Shamalan. They wanted a live action for their show over a 4th season. They had no idea M. night would butcher their baby with his pathetic film all those years ago.

This show was a second chance after the M. night abomination. And you know what? It’s a pretty decent adaptation. And guess what? With a resurgence of interest in the series, we are getting more animated content for the original animated series. There’s definitely something for everyone on the horizon if this succeeds.

[tohakumaru]

"...it's a long walk to the bazaar, better head off now if we are to make it by summer solstice..."

--------

finally finished the nomad's clothes & packed its wares for the bird-people pilgrimage. sorry for the back to back posts on this, i am actually packing up and moving myself, so just need tidy up some ends as things have to go into storage until i get to the new place.

here's the nomad on top of my drawer

it will have "its own place" soon, hopefully!

thank you for sticking around, we're back to normal posts after this (illustrations/models).

[fshigur0]

heartburn — suguru geto x fem!reader

synopsis: suguru geto has left, that happened many years ago. but when all of a sudden he texts you back, hinting to an urgent matter you have to discuss, you accept out of curiosity. but we all know the story of how curiosity killed the cat.

warnings: MDNI! basically smut with a bit of plot, angst in the beginning, mentions of death, suguru is sadistic, praise kink, begging kink, use of pet names (such as love, dove, sweetheart, princess, etc.), manipulation, unprotected sex, teasing, vaginal penetration, slapping, creampie, dirty talk, suguru is just cruel, angst at the end. it might have left space for a part two? who knows

a/n: this is a repost! hope u like it hehe <3<3

The sheer lightness of being was something extremely unfamiliar for a sorcerer. Your existence was inexorably intertwined with a fate that was, to say the least, cruel, and at the mere age of sixteen — in the very spring of one’s life, it all felt excessively tragic.

You couldn’t really retrace the rapidity of how it happened, but although death should have been a gradual concept to learn for a group of teenagers, it loomed over you; watching from afar like a predator does with its prey, and when you least expected it, it would engulf you like a cruel serpent, completely stealing your breath away.

As soon as the spring of your youth was abruptly shattered – reduced to ashes by an uncontrollable fire – you realized you had lost Suguru as well.

Perhaps out of denial or maybe as a form of protection, you had always told yourself that noticing the pain Suguru was going through had been impossible: after all, you were suffering too. In fact, everyone was suffering, but none of you shared the experience of pain with each other.

You suffered in silence in the darkness of your rooms, in the emptiness of a classroom, but you couldn’t show weakness for fear of weakening each other as a result. Yet, you realized – now almost ten years since the events that had mercilessly changed your life – that all that “care” would amount to nothing. You and Suguru had already lost from the start. When he had decided to leave your life completely, he himself had said that ’it was going to happen anyway, eventually’.

It was at that particular moment that you focused on the details of his face: purplish dark circles dominated the lower part of his eyes, which you had always admired before as they were brimming with love, now devoid of any emotion.

You loved him and, truly, you had loved him ever since you sat next to him in class. His stature and expression might have seemed intimidating to everyone, but having him beside you conveyed a sense of… safety; the first time he cracked a small, soft smile at you, your cheeks ignited and your heart drummed in your chest so hard you feared it might burst from your ribcage. Suguru was kind, and always addressed you in a low but delicate tone, as if he feared that raising it even a little would shatter you.

Sure, you had fallen in love, but Suguru had fallen harder. He loved the way your eyes would slowly trace the pages of your favourite book, their intense colour lit by a ray of nomadic sunshine. He loved the tenderness of your fingertips on his scalp and the way you could send shivers down his spine just by running your hand through his hair. He loved the way your voice syllabled his name, it was pure music to his ears. Suguru loved you, but you both knew it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, because the world he so yearned to create was much more valuable than you.

The stabs that his words had inflicted soon gave way to a disturbing sense of guilt: if you had realised this earlier, could you have changed the course of the story? Could you have prevented his transformation into a mass murderer? Could you have saved the Suguru Geto you knew? The questions plagued your mind, never to be answered.

And just as the first love of your youth walked out of your life, his silhouette growing smaller, that sense of guilt which tormented you morphed into disgust. Spring had come to an end, making way for a long winter.

〔From Suguru Geto〕 : there are some urgent matters we have to discuss. i’ll come to your place.

He’s sitting on your couch, manspreading. His arms crossed over his chest and his head slightly tilted back, eyes firmly glued on you; his gaze is unbearable, and that mocking grin on his face does not help your cause.

You want to punch him so badly, to scream and yell at him, to ask him why on earth he has decided walk back into your life after so long: but it was you who had allowed him to do it, who had opened the front door for him despite your hands shaking — your mind trying in vain to stop you, to warn you that what you were about to do was morally wrong.

Surely, you won’t be able to look the others in the face any more, not after you have welcomed a criminal into your home, a murderer whom everyone wants dead.

“So, cat’s got ya tongue?”

You take in the last drag of your cigarette, now consumed, savoring the remnants of nicotine tingling your brain. You want to snap back at him for asking such a dumb question, what are you supposed to say? Welcome him back like nothing happened? Throw a party?

“I have nothing to tell you, Suguru. Rather, it was you who texted me out of nowhere,” You acknowledge that you have raised your voice slightly, as if just hearing him speak irritates you to your core, “So speak.”

“Mhmh, you really haven’t changed much, have ya?” His smirk only grows bigger, like he is getting amused at that sight of you. “You still get heated up pretty quickly, I see.”

You scoff, an expression of sheer disbelief on your face. “Seriously, Suguru?” It hadn’t even been ten minutes and he was already taunting you; you hated him, hated that he was treating you like that after breaking your heart, hated that he was breaking it once more right after you had managed to glue the pieces back together. “Listen here, Geto,” and he raises an eyebrow, the smirk slowly vanishing, as if your use of his surname had wounded his pride, “What on earth do you want from me? You don’t show up for years and now you’re here, acting like nothing’s wrong and, and…”

“… And that hurts your feelings, love?”

A stab in the chest would have hurt less, you think. But right now all the suffering you’ve gone through erupts into an anger that blinds you. “You better not fuck with me or I’ll make you regret coming here.”

Silence suddenly drops in your living room, and for a moment the black-haired man remains stunned, blinking. Then, much to your surprise, he starts laughing: it’s that kind of laugh that pierces right through you and rumbles in your chest. However, you don’t understand why a part of you doesn’t mind.

You sit still, unable to utter a single word, an overwhelming feeling of shame washing over you.

You are currently sitting on two different sides of the room, however you now realise that you are actually extremely close. He shakes his head and leans forward slightly until one of his hands rests on your knee. The cool skin of his palm makes direct contact with yours. You quiver. Dammit, you think, did I really have to wear shorts today?

“Oh my, who thought you threatening me would be so cute?”

“Cut it out, Suguru, or else-”

“Or what, sweetheart? Will you snap my neck?” Suguru grabs your wrist, completely disregarding the strenght he does that with, and brings your hand to his neck, wrapping your palm around it. He applies some pressure, and it looks like he’s enjoying that.

“Or will you pierce my chest?” He then leads your hand to his chest, pushing it right over his heart, so hard that you feel his heartbeat vibrate on your skin. “Scream at me that I’m a jerk, that you have every reason to hate me — because you fucking do, Y/N.”

He pulls you in, so close the points of your noses are almost touching, and you feel his minty breath on your face. You should push him away, you really should, but you don’t want to.

“I really do.” You’re barely able to breathe out, lips chapped up.

You are essentially sitting on his lap, Suguru’s hand finding a way to the back of your thigh, squeezing your flesh. You let out a surprised squeal, and he knows he has you wrapped around his finger.

“I can see that” He responds, deep-brown eyes locked on you. “My sweet, sweet, little dove.”

Before you know it, Suguru closes the gap between the two of you, mouths clasping together. The kiss you share isn’t in any way chaste, and it doesn’t take long for you to start feeling breathless.

His hand caresses the abused spot he has just grasped, before cupping the curve of your ass, boldly ignoring the pink fabric of your shorts. The action makes your cunt throb, and you feel ashamed that not wearing a bra underneath your shirt had caused your hardened nipples to be so exposed.

“Suguru, please…” You beg, yet at this point you’re not sure what you’re begging for.

“Mhmh, I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart. Can you repeat that for me?”

You know this has to stop, you are perfectly aware of that and the situation on its own is seriously unbelievable. Have you lost your mind? You have to tell him before it’s too late, you have to…

Smack.

The impact of his palm on your butt is sudden, but it takes your breath away for a second. Your mouth slightly parts, yet there is no sound coming out of it. You’re taken aback.

“I think I asked you to repeat yourself, haven’t I?”

He sticks his tongue out, tracing a vertical line along your neck, viciously nibbling on your sensitive skin as his hand rubs circles on your aching butt. His teeth then reach your earlobe, sending inebriating vibrations throughout your core.

You hesitate, and he slaps you again, this time it stings so much you bury your face into the crook of his neck. You bite the bottom of your lip, exhaling.

“P-Please, Suguru…” Stop it, let go of me, “Please, fuck me.”

He chuckles, and gently grabs you by the back of your neck, only to connect your mouths again. “You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs in a husky voice before sucking on your lower lip, releasing it with a light pop, “I missed you so fuckin’ much.”

As he pulls away, a thin thread of saliva separates you. Suguru’s hands grab the hems of your Kuromi shirt, uncovering your breasts, and he wastes no time as he starts sucking on the hardened buds.

“S-Suguru, mhhh…”

Your hands firmly grip his shoulders, head tilted back in pure bliss. You are drenched, and Suguru is quick to notice that: with a swift movement - which produces yet another squeal from you - he has you laying down, back against the soft cushions of the sofa.

You feel extremely defenseless as he positions himself above you, arms secured at the sides of your waist. You take a moment to admire how his long hair gracefully drops down, perfectly framing his face.

“I forgot how pretty you looked underneath me.”

He hums, and this has you clench your thighs together, yearning for some so much needed friction. Suguru then leans forward and places a soft kiss to your temple, and at the same time, his hands roughly grasp your legs to separate them exposing your drenched shorts.

“Would you look at that, already so wet for me, aren’t ya.”

You glance away for a mere second, your eyes scanning your surroundings just not to look at him. However, before you can tilt your head back in place, his mouth is on your clothed pussy: the warmth of his breath makes you throb in anticipation, as he taunts you, sucking on the fabric of your pyjamas.

Suguru adores the way you whimper, hips moving relentlessly as you attempt to grind against his mouth — needing more than what he is giving you. Yet, seeing you struggle for his attention makes his cock twitch. He pulls down your shorts, playing a little with your lace panties before leaving you completely naked.

“You’re so wet, princess, so fucking needy. You want my cock so bad?”

You let out a loud moan as he slides his fingers through your slick, coating them in your sweet juices. You don’t respond, and that seems to displease him, because he suddenly stops.

You’re about to protest when a stinging pain vibrates throughout your cunt, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, your first instinct is to close your legs. But Suguru slaps you across your pussy again, a stern look on his face, eyes entirely darkened.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“Y-Yes!” You whimper, the pain fading away all too quickly.

“Yes, what, mh?”

“Yes, yes I want your cock- please…”

“What do you want, again?”

He was tormenting you, knowing to be the only one in control of the situation. But you were a mess already, and you really wanted him, no, you needed him.

You stretched out your arm, hand groping his bulge making Suguru inhale through gritted teeth.

“I-I want your cock to fill me up, Suguru.”

Normally, you would wish you could wipe off the grin that had formed on his face. Yet, as he starts rubbing his tip against your folds, you forget about all that. Your ankles are positioned on his shoulders and his hands grasp your waist tightly, probably leaving marks as a result. He then pushes you into him without any warning, leaving you breathless, and speechless once more.

“F-Fuck, Y/N, you feel so fucking amazing, princess.” He grunts, taking a moment to feel your plush walls embrace his cock perfectly. “Haven’t felt this perfect pussy in a while.”

“S-Sugu…-”

His thrusts are rough, hips relentless as he fucks deep into you, your walls clenching at his words. It feels so fucking good, and it doesn’t take long before you’re a babbling mess, moaning his name and earning even more mean thrusts from him.

It makes no sense, you should hate him. You should hate the man who abandoned you, who turned his back on you when…

Suguru squeezes your cheeks together, forcing you to look directly at him, eyes locked with his. “Don’t think, you always think too much, pretty,” He then bends your knees with both his arms, literally squeezing you against the couch and his body, angling his cock so deeply that your eyes roll back.

“Look at that, I’m fucking you dumb. You’re such a good girl letting me fuck you dumb like this, huh? I bet you touched yourself thinkin’ about- mmh, fuck!- about me all these years.”

You try your best to nod, incoherent words leaving your lips as your eyes start getting glossy. The lewd squelching sounds his cock makes as he goes in and out of your pussy combined with your sweet mewls are driving Suguru crazy.

He slows down watching the creamy ring formed around his cock, a mixture of his pre-cum and your delicious juices. Then he lifts his gaze to look at you: tongue slightly stuck out, saliva on your chin, tears of pleasure streaming down your face.

“Aren’t you precious? Mhh- fuck, baby, I think I’m close.”

Your walls clench once again as he begins stretching you out once more, steady thrusts slapping against your cunt. The stimulation the friction gives you, and his cock constantly hitting the spot you love most is enough to make you arch your back, shock waves of pure bliss and pleasure making you scream his name.

“Sugu- Suguru… mhhh'love this, love you so much-”

Suguru can’t take it anymore, the sight of you being subdued by him, your body melting into his own as his pace slows down, but the thrusts get harder. Only you can look so heavenly underneath him, and only he can manipulate you however he wants.

He finally reaches his high, throwing his head back as he fills you up with his warm seed, making you reach your second orgasm. His breath is hitched as he pulls out of you, his cum leaking out of your over-stimulated pussy. Your forehead is sweaty, and some strands of hair are attached to it, yet you don’t seem to care.

There are no other words exchanged between the two of you, and the silence yet again fills up the room. Your eyes are fixated on the ceiling, and although you can’t see him, you hear him standing up.

“You leaving?”

“Yeah,” he responds without a hint of hesitation in his voice, the tiniest inclination of sympathy, “I have to.”

“So you got what you wanted.” You try your best not to sound hurt, but you can’t hide the piercing pain in your chest. “Is this why you came here, just because you wanted someone to fuck? Was that the urgent matter to discuss?”

A low chuckle, that’s when you sit up on the couch. He’s looking directly at you, the glimpse of a smile you once loved depicted on his lips.

“Not just someone, Y/N.” He corrects you, but it doesn’t make it any better. No, in fact, it hurts even more.

“I didn’t mean it,” you utter, voice only a whisper as you ponder whether it’s worth it or not, to hurt him like he hurts you. “I didn’t mean it when I said that I love you.”

Checkmate, you think. Only, it is not pain that you see morphing on Suguru’s face once your gaze focuses on him again. In return, you receive nothing: his gaze seems to be devoid of all emotion, and that only magnifies the void formed in your chest.

“I can see that.” You look down, fully aware that you have just made a very dangerous mistake. You swallow the knot that has formed in your throat.

“But you see, Y/N, the big difference between you and me…” Suguru crouches down, lifting your chin with his index finger, lips a breath away from yours. “It’s that I don’t care.”

And with that he is gone, once again casting the enormous weight of his absence on your shoulders.

©fshigur0

[peachesofteal]

Floorplan

Steve Rogers/female reader 2.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Explicit sex. Nomad era Steve. Reader and Steve have a baby together, mention of pregnancy. Possessive Steve Rogers. Praise kink. Breeding kink. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Orgasm delay/denial. Could be considered toxic. Steve has issues with boundaries. Angst. Steve Rogers is keeping a secret.

Steve Rogers is keeping a secret. 

It’s heavy, heavier than most, this you know without a doubt, because you carry it as well, it’s existence a variable in your life that you never expected, never even imagined, if you’re being honest. 

A variable that ties him to you, indefinitely. For eternity. For better or for worse, without the papers or proof, the only exception being the small infant that sleeps in the room down the hall, while her father has you pinned against the bed, fingers digging into your thighs, splaying your body wide for him to do as he wishes, because you’re so fucking weak.

“Steve.” You hiss, word drawn loud from your mouth when the tip of his tongue works in tandem with his fingers, playing your clit easily, hips eagerly rocking against his face. 

“Pillow, honey. Don’t want to be too loud.” He murmurs a reminder into your cunt, crooking a finger up against that spot, the sweet spot that waits for him inside your body, working you into a mindless haze, building you up closer and closer to an orgasm until you’re panting, curve of your spine shining with a glimmer of sweat. “That’s it, that’s it. Almost there.” He hums, pulling away at the last second to peek up at your face, beard wet with you, absolutely soaked with your arousal. It glistens in the low light of your bedroom, and he smirks before going back to his meal, dotting gentle and slow kisses down the inside of your thigh that make you whisper desperate pleas. 

“Steve, please, don’t-“ Don’t stop. Keep going. Please, please, please. 

“Shhh. I know.” He coos. “Just need to get you ready for me sweetheart, that’s all.” And, if you weren’t so lost in the haze of your pleasure right now, you’d probably have something sharp to say in response. He always does this. Brings you to the edge over, and over, makes you wild for him, ache for him, just so he can pluck your strings perfectly, harmonize your need with his since your mind won’t budge, his possession of your body always tipping you over the cliff and into his arms, every time, without fail. 

Even a sailor lost at sea needs an anchor. 

And he is lost, has been, for some time. Since Bucky. Since Tony. Since he broke everyone out of the raft and went on the run, dipping in and out of towns and cities across the globe. 

That’s how you met him. That’s how you brought him home one night, that turned into two, that turned into more, and more. Your greed, your desire overriding your good sense because he was leaving soon, and he wouldn’t be around, and it’s all just some fun- I can keep a secret, Steve, you don’t have to hide from me. You’re safe with me. We’re not even together, just enjoying each other’s company, yeah?

You never thought you would survive it, loving him. Loving a man who’s not a man at all, who’s lost in the wilderness, who’s relearning everything about himself and the world all at once. Cast out by his country, his own namesake. Living on the run. Living with his band of misfit toys. 

So, you kept it to yourself, even though he didn’t. Even though you heard him whisper it to you in the middle of the night, when he thought you must be asleep. Even though it felt like obsession, possession, both ends burning the midnight oil. You kept it to yourself, kept the smile on your face, kept the swell of your emotions at bay. 

If you don’t love him, it won’t be as bad, when he goes. When they move on. 

Then, Steve Rogers did something he didn’t even know he could do. Something he didn’t intend, he claims, something he was told should be impossible. 

He gave you a baby. 

He gave you a baby, and everything changed. 

You’re just about to spit out something insistent, something needy, as he calls it, when you’re being moved, flipped over to your belly with no warning, the warmth of his chest bleeding across your back. His beard tickles against your ear, mouth pressing sweet kisses to your temple, and you can smell yourself on him, the proof of your weakness for him all over his face. 

“Here we go, good girl. I’ve got you.” The solid weight of his cock lays between you, the spill of his pre come smearing against the inside of your thighs and then inside of you, the heavy, thick head pushing in little by little, your mouth drooping wide on the pillow. 

“Ahh-“ you groan. It bites, the stretch, the sting of it all, and he knows, he loves it, and you do too (even though now you never tell him, because it’s not like before, not like when you weren’t the mother of his child, not like when things were simpler, when you could have walked away, when you weren’t falling down the rabbit hole with a man who has lost his entire identity, his country, his life-)

“God, honey. What a sweet little pussy you have for me, huh?” His teeth find the skin of your neck, below your jaw, and they graze with a nip, light pressure to punctuate his ownership. For me. For me, for me, for me. “Just perfect. My perfect, good girl.” You try to bite back the moan that rises in your throat but it’s impossible, and he’s no fool, the curl of his smile imprints across your skin, cock sawing in and out of your body like you were made for it. 

He says you were, of course. That you were made for him, and for no one else, and he doesn’t care what happens in the next year, or two, or ten. You’ll always be his. He’ll always come back. He’ll always be here. 

“What will you do if… when you go home, to America?”

“I’ll bring you both. Put you up in a place. Or maybe I’ll buy you a house, honey. With a white picket fence and everything. Give you another baby. Give you two more babies.”

“Steve-“

“No, no. Don’t.”

“Steve.” You whine, still mouthing the pillow, fingers tight in the sheets. You clench down around him, unable to keep yourself from barreling towards your orgasm any longer, and he whispers encouragement in your ear, soft praise of how good you feel and how wet and are you going to come for me, honey? You going to give a me a good one? Let me feel you squeezing my cock with it?

Your first orgasm comes with ease. So does your second. 

Your third comes with tears that he laps up across your cheek, as too many words get stuck in your throat. I love you. I hate you. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you to leave. 

It builds, each time he slips inside the house at night, each time you come home from work or errands and he’s sitting on the couch reading a book, or sketching, just waiting for you and Emmaline. It builds and builds, when he’s got you bent over the kitchen table, cheek pressed to the wood, sinking his cock into your body with an unmatched fury, breathing claims of ownership against your skin. Mine, for me. My girls. My baby. 

“Maybe I’ll give you another. Fill you up until you’re overflowing, get you pregnant.” It’s an overload, a killshot straight to your heart, your nervous system, and it engulfs you in fire, your body clenching around his cock involuntarily, like all it wants is to be bred by him, fucked deep with his come until you’re round with his baby, again. And he knows it, knows it too well. Sees the way your eyes shutter, can feel the way your body begs for it. You want to come, and he’ll torture you with it, dragging it out until you’re breaking apart. “Go ahead, tell me honey. Say it, do you want it?” 

“Y-yes, please. Please, daddy.” 

Everything you carry, all the tangles, the snarled mess that exists in your heart for him surges, and his hand sneaks between the mattress and your body to cup your belly, palm warm like a brand. Like it’s always been, now, and before- 

He holds you from behind, hands flush overtop your navel, stroking the roundness of your stomach with longing affection. 

“How’re my girls today?” 

“Tired.” You shift, and he hums in response. You’re about to snap at him about being here in the first place, remind him he can’t just use his key whenever, let himself inside whenever, but his hands drift to the bottom of your belly and lift, robbing you of all the lectures and rebuttals as the pressure on your spine is instantly relieved. 

“That better sweetheart?” 

He’s deep, so deep that it burns, head of his cock punching against your cervix, hitting that spot repeatedly. You gasp, burying your face in the pillow, smothering the shriek of your moans. He’s close, you can tell, you can feel it, the way his muscles start to become rock, the strike of his hips against your ass moving you further up the bed until your neck is craning to the side to avoid the headboard.

“Here it comes honey, lie still, just- just let me- let me give it to you.” It’s a stammered slur being pushed out through a too tense jaw, restraint burning in his muscles, arms cradling you like a precious, rare gem to be coveted, something more important than duty and a shield. 

Later, he’s still in your bed, even though he said he wouldn’t be. 

He’s heavy, and hot, so hot that you don’t need a blanket when he holds you. You find it fascinating, even more curious that your own child runs hotter than normal too, more evidence of the clear truth that both you and Steve are working vigilantly to hide and disguise. 

“You should sleep.” He’s insistent, and your lashes flutter closed with a big breath. 

“You don’t have to stay.” He wants to. He’s stubborn about it. It’s the reason he gave for appearing on your doorstep earlier. 

“Why didn’t you call? I would’ve come sooner.” 

“It’s not like I know where you are these days.” 

“Don’t. Don’t… start this.” 

“She has colic, Steve. There’s not much you’re going to be able to do, we just have to ride it out.” 

“I don’t care. I’m here.” 

He was the one who had managed getting Emmaline to sleep earlier, rocking her in his arms until she settled, sweet little baby finally succumbing to lullaby of sweet dreams in her dad’s arms. 

He’s so good at it, taking care of her, understanding what she needs and when, that you hardly sputtered a protest when he clicked her door shut and pulled you in for a kiss, pushing you into your own bedroom and laying you out on your back, a hand pinning your stomach to the sheets, another gripping your thigh wide for him, his strength forcing your body into a trap, where you were powerless. Stuck.  

“I guess I gotta put both my girls to bed, right? Isn’t that what you needed? Just needed daddy here, honey?”  

“Close your eyes, sweetheart. I’ll get her, when she gets up.” The fire of his skin makes everything in the room feel heavy, feel heady, and it’s so easy to slip into your imagination to pretend, dream about a world where your relationship wasn’t shattered, where Emmaline’s dad wasn’t just a shadow in the dark half the time he’s in the house, in her life, in yours. 

“You can’t just keep coming here, acting like everything is normal.” You whisper to the ceiling, but he doesn’t respond, just hums into your skin, deaf to your sense, your logic. 

You’re right. You know you are. Why can’t he just see that?

“Steve.” You pick at him. Pushing and pushing, careening closer to a breaking point, an inevitable end when he will sigh with the weight of exasperation, and then ease himself out of bed and disappear into the night. 

“This is the normal, for now.” He says instead, a rebuttal that takes you by surprise, a change in his usual course. Fingers stretch over yours with a yank, pulling you closer into the bend of his body. “But it won’t always be like this. We’ll go home soon.” Home. It sounds nice, but feels like a threat, considering this has been your home for years now, and this was where you were raising Emmaline, and this is where you had settled into life, started a career, put down roots. 

“Steve, I’m already home.” You remind him and he chuckles softly against your brow. 

“Are you?”

[captainkirkk]

I convinced myself to watch the first episode of the live action atla series. Some thoughts:

I REALLY liked that they recreated some shots from the cartoon, like the opening. I wasn't excited for this show, but that got me amped

I didn't like how brutal the Air Nomad's genocide was :(( I liked that we got to see more of the Air Nomads but I felt like that was over the time

The cgi and acting was,, really not great but tbf I was expecting that going in, especially with a show so heavy on magical fighting and child characters.

I don't mind that the show feels a bit more serious - the og atla fanbase are now all grown up and the show reflects that

Zuko's scar ..... why. It looks like a weird birth mark

I didn't love how overt Iroh was tbh. Outright telling Zuko that the task his father set him is impossible... where are his cryptic sayings and "accidental" diversions??? Iroh is smart enough to know that Zuko wouldn't be responsive to that

Sokka being the leader to his people!! I love that they showed how much responsibility he has on his shoulder

I also love Zuko's room, strung up with notes and drawings. It's very much giving pepe silva

[luvulyy]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍.

𝖹𝖴𝖪𝖮 𝖷 𝖬𝖠𝖫𝖤 𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖤𝖱

WARNINGS: EXPLICIT SMOKING WEED

The feeling of Zuko's feet and legs tangled up in yours was the best sensation you had ever experienced.

Though that might be the weed speaking. You didn't think you would have believed he was this close to you if you both were sober.

The others were camped up in the far end of the Air Nomad temple. It was a bright night, the moon high in the sky was your only company as the embers of your campfire spluttered. When Zuko had emerged to the part of the ruins you often occupied on sleepless nice you'd quickly known what he was seeking.

A reprieve from silent four walls. A comfort only your company could give him. Plus it didnt hurt that he knew exactly how you tended to spend evenings like this, lazily smoking and admiring the stars.

There had been little words exchanged as Zuko joined your place sitting against the ruined walls, there wasn't any need to. Maybe you were afraid it would break the moment, silent and serene as the night chill swirled around you.

The closest you got to speaking was Zuko's nod of gratitude when you first offered him the joint.

The silence was short lived however, shattered when Zuko's body began to shake with the force of coughing. You instinctively began to rub his back, ignoring how much you enjoyed the sensation. It came far too casually, the urge to just continuously stroke your hand up and down his back.

As the coughs eased Zuko spluttered into his fist. 'Fuck, how can you stand that shit. My throat burns.'

You chuckled lowly, still not removing your hand. 'Mad talk from the firebender.'

Zuko tsked under his breath and finally passed it back, not meeting your eyes. You pulled deeply, enjoying the warm sensation that travelled through your body. You let your head lull back against the cold bricks, eyes lazily drawn to Zuko.

They always were, high or not. Not that you'd ever consider acting on your feelings.

Still, that didn't stop you when you finally moved your hand, instead travelling up to throw an arm across his shoulders. You pulled him into your side gently, only offering 'It's cold and you're hot, don't blame me' as explanation.

You ignored the blush that bloomed on his cheeks, and feigned ignorance when Zuko snuggled in the slightest amount.

As you returned the joint to him your eyes met and electricity flushed down your spine. It was impossible not to drown in his amber eyes, they were all you could see. They almost seemed to sparkle, rivalling the celestial view framing him. The slight red tinging his waterline complimented his usual colour scheme.

He was even more adorable than usual like this, relaxing into the high and your touch. Seeing him not entirely strung for once was nice. Endearing.

With another hit Zuko relaxed even further, melting into your side. As his head resting softly began against you you could've sworn your heart skipped a beat.

You could feel the line between you starting to blur. It was nothing new, there were times during the day you contemplated it. Times he looked at you with an indecipherable expression. With something you hoped was the affection you were also harbouring deep down.

You watched as Zuko went for a second pull and didn't get stop him. Maybe you were a little biased. Something you instantly regretted as he was hit with yet another wave of coughing. The two of you had no choice but to wait it out, silent until he stifled them to an occasional occurrence.

Zuko's eyes fell to you, tracing your face in true out of it fashion. 'How do you do this without dying? It's actually so unfair. Favouritism.'

You snorted in what you were sure was an attractive manner. Then paused as an idea came to you.

'Here, how bout we try something, might help you with the coughing.' You offered, face slack as to not give anything away.

The future fire lord simply raised an eyebrow sceptically. 'When has an idea of yours ever done us good?'

'You trust me?' You shot back, feeling emboldened by the high and atmosphere.

Zuko still looked unsure but nodded.

You tried to swallow your anxieties. This could either go very good or very wrong.

You inhaled deeply, eyes not leaving his. Then gestured for him to come closer, which he wordlessly obeyed. You turned your head, he was now so much closer than you'd expected. You drank in every beautiful detail of his face, so soft yet handsome in every way.

'Open?' You whispered lowly, holding the smoke in your lungs. Zuko's eyes widened slightly as he caught on, but he still did as told. You inched slightly closer, lips almost touching, then gently exhaled the puff into his mouth.

Zuko mimicked your deep breath in and blinked cutely when the inevitable wave of coughing never came. He seemed at a loss for words.

'That alright?' You pressed, body tense in anticipation. You really had no idea how he would react.

Yet all you got was a shrug as the firebender resumed his position using you as support. 'I'm not coughing my guts up, which is a start. What was that anyway?'

'Shotgunning.' You replied simply, playing it off as something casual and definitely didn't make your heart beat faster. You took another pull just to distract yourself, occupy your mind with something other than replaying the tantalising memory of his lips right next to yours.

You sat in silence for a minute, enjoying the ease his presence brought you. The fire crackled lazily but you made no motion to tend to it, instead Zuko lazily flicked his wrist and it roured back to life. You were admiring the flames dance when he spoke.

'Can we do it again?'

You froze like a deer in headlights. The courage you'd mustered earlier was nowhere to be found. But the buzz at the edge of your senses eased you. And the pink lingering on his cheeks was equally encouraging.

'If you're sure...' You offered softly, leaving things to Zuko. You didnt want to pressure him, didnt want to leave any chance of misreading where things were going.

Zuko shifted so his face was opposite yours again, eyes perfectly focused on yours. He shifted slightly so his forehead was pressing gently against yours. It was so gentle and intimate it took everything you had to resist holding him.

'I'm sure.' He whispered back, and the crystal clear question in his eyes left nothing unanswered.

You took another pull, and returned your lips to a hair's breath away from his. Pausing for a second to enjoy the moment, the warmth radiating from his presence, his closeness.

Then you exhaled. You moved impossibly closer to aim for his mouth, at the same time he raised his head to meet yours.

And somewhere along the way his lips found yours.

They were just as soft as you'd imagined, pressing against you with adorable shyness yet eager. Your breaths mingled and smoke danced between you. He tasted of weed and cold night air and it was the best thing you'd ever tasted. It was addictive, better than any drug.

As Zuko's grip found your collar and pulled you impossibly closer, you got a feeling that the shotgunning wasn't going to be a one time thing. Or the kissing.

[weepingchronicles]

yandere azula x reader headcanons this could be read as either romantic or platonic, whatever you wish! tw: yandere, violence, mentions of death, torture, manipulative and controlling behavior, degradation (also maybe a smidge of yandere aang??)

when I say you are fucked if you have this girl yandere for you, you are FUCKED

you are one of the last remaining air nomads, except for aang who is unknown to the world right now and presumed dead

the troubling part is that you have no bending abilities, you were practically raised in the fire nation belonging to azula

you have no spirituality connecting you to your tribe because you know nothing about your culture thus making it hard for you to bend

fire lord ozai had gifted you to azula to keep as a pet basically, only after ensuring you were not the avatar.

growing up with azula has its moments..

azula treats you as bad as zuko, perhaps even worse. she regularly mocks your deceased parents and tribe and knowingly withholds info on your culture in order to keep you dependent on her

you're also not allowed to speak to anyone but azula or a higher rank person.

once ty lee tried to play a game with you since you're both naturally agile people, the outcome was your hair almost catching on fire

as a result, you grew up very fearful of azula but naïve of any outside influence.

the only bright side in your childhood was that you got to keep your life while your parents didn't, and that you somewhat live safely in the palace.

azula likes to keep you on a tight leash, metaphorically (although she wouldn't be against actually doing so-) she has you sleep in your obviously smaller room just across from hers

she doesn't worry about you ever escaping because she has engrained in you that it's impossible, and why bother when you have no family to turn back to, except her? where you get fed pretty well, have a good place to sleep, etc

of course she doesn't mention how she likes to torture you daily

most torture games with azula are psychological, she likes to see you be manipulated to her side and cry but knowing no one else can do that but her

but sometimes her games do get violent

one time she handcuffs your hand to a table, and plays pinfinger on you, enjoying your expression as she pretends to "slip up" and accidentally cut you.

she never majorly hurts you though, she doesn't want her pet to be broken!

you may be thinking that azula doesn't even care for reader! she sees her as only a pet

while that is half true, she cares for you probably more than her own father.

when aang hears one of his last remaining relatives is being held captive, he has no other choice but to save you

when you're greeted by a 12 year old boy who is claiming to be your family and the avatar, you are wary. azula has always said your family is dead, wiped out so how can this be?

it doesn't take much to convince you though after he says he can help you escape.

together you fly away on aang's glider, and for once you feel hope and freedom.

when azula finds out you've been taken by the avatar, she practically breaks

the only thing that stops her from breaking havoc across the nation, is her dad appointing her to capture the avatar

oh she'll capture him alright, and make sure no one puts their hands on you again.

[thatlittleegyptologist]

apologies if this has already been asked, did ancient west africans have any relations or connection to ancient egypt?

Not really

In the pre-dynastic period, when the Sahara was much smaller, and parts of it were more savannah like, the Egyptians seem to have ventured further west than they did at any other time, as we have evidence of them at the Gilf Kebir plateau which borders Libya. There are two caves; known as the Cave of Beasts and the Cave of Swimmers. Both of these caves are extremely old, with the Cave of Swimmers being 8000-10,000 years old (c.6000-8000 BCE), and the Cave of Beasts being about 7000-8000 years old (c.5000-6000 BCE). Around 6000 years ago (c.4000 BCE) you have the Holocene Climatic Optimum (HCP), which caused a change in climate and the Sahara to began to form thus pushing people out of the area one way or another. I mention all this because the key problem with the Egyptians interacting with civilisations in West Africa after this point, is the big desert that's in between them. Clearly before this point there are people in the Saharan area, but they're not belonging to any one civilisation as those have yet to form. These are just groups of people, nomadic or stationary, living their lives in the area. Those already living in Egypt along the Nile at this time, share a common material culture, which is not present elsewhere. These are the pre-dynastic cultures of Egypt known as the Naqada period.

After the HCP, we start to see the advent of agriculture and civilisations like the Mesopotamians and the Egyptians begin to form (c.4000 BCE). The Sahara wasn't so arid that routes could not be traversed at this time, so it's possible that there was still some contact with groups or civilisations in Western Africa, but it would have been extremely difficult and things like long distance trade wouldn't have been required just yet. The chance of sustained contact is minimal, and we have no evidence to prove they did either, as far as I'm aware. By 2500 BCE, or around the time the Great Pyramid at Giza was completed, the Sahara is no longer passable due to the arid conditions. The chances of contact after this point are incredibly small. I'm not saying impossible, but when the Egyptians list the people they are in contact with it's always those to the North East (Hittites, Hyksos, Mittani) or the South (Punt and Nubia/Kush - modern day Sudan). They are in contact with the Themehu, who come from Libya, but that's as far West as they mention their contacts.

As far as they depict their contacts, we have this from the tomb of Seti I, which is from a text known as the Book of Gates:

This is a reconstruction since the original is badly damaged, from left to right we have depictions of: A Libyan, a Nubian (Sudan), an Aamu (Levantine), and an Egyptian. Here's part of the scene as seen in the tomb (bottom register where the damage is):

And another part, which you can see is connected to the part above. I'd argue with the facsimile that the Aamu are a little darker in appearance than whoever painted that made them, but still:

And the bit that goes around the corner, again on the bottom register/line you can see the Aamu (Levantine) folks:

Sorry I can't get better photos of them, but I'd physically have to go to Egypt and take them myself at this point. But you can see how the Egyptians are listing and depicting those they are in contact with on a regular basis and there are no Western African civilisations mentioned at all.

N.B. I've actually taken these images from the Theban Mapping Project, which if you've ever wanted to see photos from inside the tombs in the Valley of the Kings, it's a great resource: