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Black sexuality representation we want to see

@sapphosigns asked:

Greetings =) I was wondering if any Black mods and followers would be up to sharing your thoughts/feelings on portrayals of Black characters sexuality- given that a lot of portrayals hypersexualise or fetishize. What would you want to see/feel is more balanced given the way black people are treated in media at large? (thank you for doing what you do with this blog)

Here is my opinion on things that should be more represented in relationships involving Black characters, concerning their sexuality:

More queer relationships.

Black gay men or women

Bisexual characters

Aromantic or asexual characters too

Even though we tend to be more closeted depending on how theses identities are viewed in our communities (generally for religious motives), Black people aren’t “more straight” than White people for example.

Healthy and light-hearted relationships

Relationship not rooted in trauma or violence.

Going with that, more tenderness and romanticism too, with the funny-awkward moments that go with it.

Weird love declarations, embarrassing but lovingly awkward sexual situations.

Healthy family dynamics

I also want to add that it extends to family dynamics.

Black characters having a present partner for their children or having both their parents together (to be careful with the Absent Black Father trope).

More relationships involving two Black characters

More relationships involving two Black characters!! Lots of relationships involving a Black character involve a White lover. While this is okay, Black love could be a bit more depicted outside the romance genre (I’m thinking fantasy and science-fiction, or Young Adult).

More interracial relationships not involving a white partner.

These relationships can be harder to find in literature, due to the prevalence of the White lover.

There’s an amazing french graphic novel titled Amours croisées by Laura Nsafou and Camélia Blandeau which depicts Yari, a Black girl living in Paris, falling in love with Hide, who has East-Asian origins and mostly… is polyamourous. The graphic novel is about discovering different ways to love, including inside your own relationship. The drawing style and the plot are really soft. That’s an example of what can be done to depict our relationships in a caring way.

-Mod Lydie

Black followers, please add the BIPOC queer representation you want to see!

NOOO NO WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME. MY HEART'S BREAKING.

@chad-enigma i couldn’t stop thinking about it so i made it with low quality clips, ill definitely remake it when the movie comes out in hd 😭🫂

i think i've decided to change my blog into a writing-centred blog,,, will be making major changes around my profile and deleting a lot of my posts :')

i will only keep the drawings that are related to what i want to do, i suppose, and that probably includes fandoms that im not really active in anymore.

thanks for the tag red !!

kid me and me now have a few things in common, and that's still being sleep deprived. also not my hair getting lighter as i get older what's going on there– i dedass had to relive my kiddo days where i had that really short and bad haircut...

no pressure tags – @saelestia @ladyth-deactivated20240208 @tinkerbelle05 @littlekidsteve @rrairey @yurislotusgarden @thomae @cindol + anyone who wants to join !!

Picrew tag game!- Create yourself now vs how you looked when you were a kid

Link

I was tagged by @cutebisexualmess for this but the chain was too long so I'm restarting!

If only that little girl could see me now (she'd probably think I was cool tbh)

uhm tagging: @b3achfagz (ik you dont do tag games so u can just ignore this but i though u might find it cool) @cassiecryptic @viktheviking1 @depressedgremlinbitch @ramencat12 @inkyslimee @the-horrifying-digital-circus @patipati @cute--thing @musicalsiphonophore @tastetherainbow290 @disenchantedwarlock @bookishcatcafe and anyone else who sees this and thinks it looks cool!!

Do you have any thoughts on "American Born Chinese"

Okay so I haven't seen the recent film but I have read the comic by Gene Luen Yang and quite enjoyed it! While I know AAPI kids are the main target and focus of this work, I think it did a good job of both delving into childhood/young adult triumphs and insecurities from the Asian American perspective, as well as in forcing everyone to confront the really ugly stereotypes that have long influenced how "real" (i.e. white) Americans think about and act towards AAPI communities & what affects these stereotypes have had on how members of said communities think about themselves. I thought it presented a pretty interesting take on the Monkey King as well: here Sun Wukong's journey isn't about transforming himself into a god, but about accepting what he is (a monkey) and finding strength and even enlightenment in that. In this way the Monkey King becomes a figure for the protagonist Jin Wang--who goes to some pretty extreme lengths to try and "fit in" with his white peers--to also understand that he's hurting himself and his friends by trying to "ascend" into something he's not, and that he can find true happiness by being authentically himself, no matter how much others may look down on him. It's also kind of funny in a deliberately uncomfortable way too because the way Sun Wukong gets Jin Wang to do this is by attacking him in the form of "Chin-Kee"--basically a walking racist stereotype--until Jin Wang fights back and punches his head off. It's only then that the Monkey King reveals his true form which had been hiding behind the stereotype.

Also you have to love the page of Sun Wukong's parting words to Jin Wang:

posted on the new acc

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 "𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 by 𝐝𝐨𝐣𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐭"

✭ pairings: gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, toji ✭ warning: fluff, fem!reader, all characters are 18+, mentions of period, suggestive talk

jjk men headcanons of helping you through your period because being an afab is monthly pain </3 pt 2 coming soon! enjoy!!

OO1. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ Can and absolutely will buy boxes of chocolates/your favourite candy. ✧ And when I mean boxes, I mean the kind that are fresh out of the oven and in large batches that take months to finish. ✧ “Angel~! Lookie here at what I got!! You still love this brand right?” ✧ Spends all of his time taking care of you, keeps you cuddled in bed, and absolutely won’t let you leave. ✧ You need water? He’s got it for you before you can open your mouth to say anything. Need more blankets? You’re bundled in at least ten blankets by the time you blink. Painkillers? Right before you in an instant. ✧ Horrible to be around with the amount of stupid jokes he says, but as long as he keeps your mind off your pain, he’s doing his job (he’s trying, please laugh). ✧ If you’re getting in the mood, he’d gladly go along to make you feel better. ✧ “Your candy’s not bad, but I can give you something much sweeter~”

OO2. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ This man can and will cook for you all your comfort foods ✧ Knows his tea and brews you tea that is specifically made to reduce pain for your cramps, so forget about painkillers ✧ Makes sure to knock on the door as you lay in bed, tray of tea and your favourite snacks in hand. ✧ “Hey there, love. How are you hanging in there?” ✧ Cuddles you while gently pecking the top of your head as you’re both bundled in blankets. He adores you, and it hurts him to see you in pain. ✧ “It’s alright, darling, I’ve got you.”

OO3. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ The moment you message him that you’re on your shark week, he lets you know where everything is and goes so far as to buy back ups, especially if it’s exceptionally heavy this time. ✧ Comes straight home with fresh pastries in a paper bag resting in one arm and sweets (which he unwillingly got advice from Gojo) in another, smaller paper bag with painkillers in his free hand. ✧ “Are you alright? Does it hurt too much? Don’t bother washing up, you should be resting in bed.” ✧ Gently massages while waiting for the painkillers to take effect once you point out where it hurts the most. He makes you sit on his lap as he gently rests his chin on your shoulder while you eat warm, fluffy pastries. ✧ Once the pain’s gone, he makes you feel even better with soft kisses on your neck. ✧ “My strong girl, that’s my love.”

OO4. 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ He knew something was up the moment air smelled a little more like iron and blood. ✧ He figured something was up when he found you bundled beneath his blankets instead of how you usually greet him, which was with a sweet smile and your arms wrapped around his torso. ✧ He lifts the covers as he peers down at you with a curious glance, though he has a knowing smile. ✧ “Hey, brat, what’s wrong with you?” ✧ Once he hears your groan, he knows how bad it is, and he can see it clearly when you’re lying weakly on the bed, face buried in the pillows that smell of him. ✧ He’d scoff playfully with a smile, pulling you into his arms as he snickers, “Should’ve said yes when I proposed to make you a mother, yeah?”

OO5. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ Let’s be honest here, he’d completely forget about your ask to help get more pads. ✧ He’d only remember it while passing a convenience store where an obnoxious couple were making out just outside the establishment. ✧ His eyes widen briefly and he saunters into the convenience store. ✧ Takes his sweet time trying to remember what brand and kind of pad you used, he still buys painkillers even if there are some at home. ✧ Grabs the nearest bar of candy before walking out of the store, scratching the back of his head with a small plastic bag in his hands. ✧ Calls you the moment he has everything. ✧ “Hey, I got your period stuff.” -- “Toji, I literally got over my period last week.” ✧ At least you have supplies for next month's torture, and Toji made up for it with a night to remember.

Maybe We’ll Get Through This Part 1

Characters:Jaime Reyes x Pregnant!reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: You find out that you pregnant while Jaime is at college and, you have yet to tell him.

Warnings: alludes to past sexual experiences, talks of pregnancy, adoption, and abortion, talks about financial insecurity, arguing, lying

Special thanks to @scryarchives for their help!!🫶🏿

-

You’ve been counting down the dreaded day since you found out about your pregnancy, the day you told Jaime about it. And about the house. And about the garage closing. And about his father’s heart attack. There was a lot you and his family were keeping from him.

For good reason, of course. Knowing how Jaime is, he’d drop out of college and catchthe next plane to come back home, no matter what anyone said.

And he worked too hard for that to happen or to have unnecessary stress cause him to fail his courses.

At least that's what you said to convince yourself that this was a good idea. But the doubt that laid heavy in your stomach was really convincing you that you were wrong in this decision.

You decided to wear an oversized hoodie even in the sweltering Texas heat. Your bump was growing, and you didn’t want to tell Jaime like this. You wanted to ease him into the news.

You would just have to bring a mini fan, ice cold water, and hope that most places have a working AC unit in them.

All of you huddled into Rudy’s car, and you braced yourself for the long ride. It was at least an hour or so. Maybe you could listen to music to calm yourself down.

Or you could obsessing over how you would break the news to Jaime. It was already nerve wracking telling someone your gonna be a father.

Especially when they are a new grad, especially when you were withholding this information for months, especially when you we’re struggling financially.

God, you should’ve aborted the baby the moment you found out. There was still time to do it, all you had to do was take one little pill. Why did you think this was a good idea? That this was doable?

“Everything will be fine, mija,” Mrs. Reyes attempted to reassure and handed you a tissue.

You gladly took it to wipe your tears and blow your nose, “Thank you, Mrs. Reyes.”

You had to keep your emotions in check if you wanted this to work. I mean if you showed up to the airport with puffy eyes and a snotty nose then you could tell Jaime you just really, really missed him.

Which is a case was true, you had really missed him. You missed hugging him, kissing him, and going on dates. Holding his hand, running your hands through his soft curls.

And didn’t they always say the best lie had some truth to it?

The drive to the airport came and went, everything’s a bit of a blur right now with you focused on how to tell Jaime. Your body’s basically on autopilot and before you knew it, you were in a somewhat crowed airport with good AC.

You felt the nice cool air on your flushed skin and hastily wiped some sweat from your forehead. Now you waited, and there he was. All smiles, with his graduation hat sitting playfully crooked on his head and his carry on trailing behind him.

He hugged Nana first, then Milargo, and Mr. Reyes. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of Jaime getting peppered with kisses by Mrs. Reyes. Watching him laugh and squirm under her hold, it was cute.

You imagined doing that with you kid one day. Hearing their laughter and whining out for you to stop because it tickled them too much.

No, no you're getting too far ahead now. Let’s just take this one step at a time.

Then it was your turn.

Even though you lived with the Reyes for a year now and were obviously pregnant, you still felt thoroughly embarrassed and self-conscious about showing too much affection in front of them.

So you gave Jaime a hug and quick kiss on the cheek. He held your hand as you made your way to the car and the taco place for lunch.

“How was the flight?” You asked him softly.

“Well, there was a crying baby for like half of the flight so that was great,” he answered sarcastically. “But yea other than that it was alright.”

Your eye twitched at the word “baby” and you felt yourself spiraling.

Does Jaime even want kids?

Does he want them but not right now?

Would he be happy? Angry, that you withheld this information or angry that your pregnant? Angry at both?

“Your sweating,” Jaime noted you. “That’s a pretty thick sweater, aren’t you burning up in that thing?”

You looked at Jaime then shared a knowing look with his sister, “Well, you know what they say Jaime, beauty’s pain.” You smiled tightly at him.

He did not look convinced in the slightest but he didn’t push it, and two continued your easy going conversation until you got to the taco place.

You all filed into the restaurant, at the table that you always sit at because it’s the only one big enough for everyone.

Your mind wandered to the future, as it always does. Would the kid sit on your lap or Jaime’s? Would they have a preference, or just who was holding them at the time? Or will you have to pull up an extra chair and all squeeze to make room?

You cleared your throat and attempted to clear your mind of those thoughts, but you wanted them to happen. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t want kids, this kid.

But maybe you did want kids?

Or maybe it was just the hormones.

You were starving, the smell was intoxicating and tempted but the thought of food made you nauseous, and this sweater wasn’t making you feel any better.

The waiter came and everyone ordered food but you.

And of course Jaime noticed, he leaned closer into you and whispered into your ear, “Are you sure your okay?”

You brought out your mini fan just for it to blow the hot air back into your face, you winced at the feeling but you nodded your head anyway.

“Of course I am,” you responded. But you felt terrible and it was getting harder to keep the facade up.

Milagro, as observant her brother, noticed this too and huffed, “Okay, he’s had his tacos let’s tell him now.”

The announcement illicit different reactions: Jaime’s was confusion and everyone one else’s was shock. To be honest, there was really no concrete agreed upon time of when you would all tell Jaime the news. The only thing that was agreed on was that we would prolong it as much as possible.

You guessed Milagro was fed up then. You watched as Milagro unceremoniously dumped everything on Jaime; his father’s stroke, losing the garage, and potentially losing the house.

“Wait, so all of you hid this from me? For…for what? So I could focus on some dumb degree and get us more into debt?!” Jaime astonished.

“No, no, you had to focused on school. You worked too hard to give that all up,” Mr. Reyes explained.

“No, no I could’ve been working. I could’ve saved the shop, I….I could’ve been here for my family.” Jaime said. Then he looks at you, “Do you have anything you wanna tell me too?”

You realized that he was joking when he said that but it felt like a big bright light was under you. You wanted to tell him so badly but how?

You've been agonizing over how to do it for months now. What do you say? How do you say it? Do you ease it in or just blurt it out?

Either way, it was now or never.

You took a deep breath, “Jaime, I'm pregnant.”

-

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the way this absolutely breaks my heart is just *chef's kiss*

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (4)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of violence and death. (wc: 4955 )

Neytiri was up early– too early. 

She ran her hands tiredly over her face, her fingernails barely grazing the creases of her skin. Her eyes felt heavy, but it wasn’t tiredness that forced itself to weigh on her lids– it was the dread that continued to settle in; she could hardly make out the sound of the pot blowing out steam, rising in pitch with the soup threatening to boil over. The lid covering the kitchen pan was shaking fiercely, trying desperately to contain itself.

No, who was she kidding? She had lain awake all night, tossing and turning in her hammock. Not a single wink of sleep had been granted to her. 

Neytiri swore her heart cried every time she took a deep breath, gravelly gasping along her. She couldn’t sleep even if she wanted to– not when tuk-tuk quivered in her embrace the whole night; the slightest movement made her flinch and the softest touch made her cry. It was gut-wrenching, the thought that her own child felt no safety in the arms of their mother.

Not my children, eywa. Not them too. 

War had started long before her mate had come, Neytiri couldn’t blame him– but sometimes, late at night when the only sounds that grace her ears are the thoughts running through her head, she dreams of a life away from the wildfire and bullets; a life where she had fulfilled her mother's desires and took Tsu'tey’s hand instead. Every once in a while, the idea pierces her heart as she finds herself tucked in between Jake’s embrace. It felt wrong to think so, like being unfaithful, but not quite.

Tsu’tey was never someone who crossed her thoughts as a person that had gotten away from her, nor had she ever been attracted to him in a romantic way. It would’ve been an union of convenience; for the clan and the people itself. They would be unhappy– unhappy and awfully miserable. With Jake, it was something else entirely; like marriage had more meaning to it rather than a simple alliance. Sure, it was miserable, but they were happy– she was happy. Neytiri could never resent her mate, not when they’ve come so far already.

However, in terms of her children’s well-being, she couldn’t help but think if Jake was the bane of it all– the root of every bad thing that has happened to them. There were no softer words to lay it out, but they deserved better. Her children deserved none of this war. 

She was crying again– crying for them. She let the beads of tears roll down her cheek as she stared afar with not a single coherent thought behind her eyes. 

It was no surprise that Neteyam was already up with the sun rising. He moved quickly, quietly lowering the fire and lifting the lid of the pot with caution— hissing when its hot liquid splashed onto his skin. With a concerned look on his face, he glanced over at his mother who sat an arm’s length away from the very stove; how could she not have heard the loud cackle of her own cooking? He was sure it would’ve caused a wildfire if not for him. 

He slowly moved closer to Neytiri, gingerly reaching out and nudging her with his fingertips. He was mindful not to startle her already tired state. “Sa’nok– sa’nok?” Neteyam called out to her, “Sa’nok, are you okay?” 

Neytiri stirred just slightly, turning her head to view the worried face of her eldest. Her lips thinned involuntarily, a feeling of relief washing over her; her children were here, safe and sound. Nothing will happen to them– not ever.  As long as she lived, they will never be harmed ever again. No demon would take this away from her.

A wave of panic swept over her as she finally realized that she had been cooking before. She quickly turned back to see a billowing cloud of smoke rising from its surface. Neytiri cursed under her breath as her small attempts at fanning away the fog that had settled upon the area were to no avail, finding herself in a fit of coughing. “Why don’t you get y/n?” She requested, voice strained. “She can help with breakfast.” 

With a heavy sigh, Neteyam could only nod, quickly leaving.

Right, y/n– you. When was it never about you? 

Neteyam grumbled as he dragged his feet towards their thatched hut, kicking at every pebble that came across his path with a grunt. It wasn’t you who had woken up early to assist Neytiri nor was the one who had stopped fire from possibly spreading and yet, your name just had to be the first he’d heard today. 

It was you. Always you. 

Neteyam would be a big fat liar if he said it didn’t affect him. He saw you as a parasite – a damn leech that was draining the life out of everyone around him. He couldn't understand why you had to be so selfish and callous; why you were unable to look past Jake’s reprimands when all he desired was your well-being or how you had driven his own mother to such anguish that it became her own undoing. 

You weren’t a kid anymore. On top of that, you weren’t theirs– so why had you always been on top of their priority? Why had you become a chore? 

But never his, oddly enough. You were too good for him and he hated that. 

(Heavy steps thudded behind Jake as Neteyam trailed, his disappointment palpable. He had been unsuccessful in his mission to persuade his father to let him come along on today’s expedition, always quick to dismiss him. He had gone through all the training, but what was the point if he still wouldn't be able to put it into practice? 

Being olo’eyktan one day will never feel rewarding. 

“It’s too dangerous, Neteyam.” Jake grumbled under his breath, eyes never meeting his as he gathered his arrows. “I need you here. Make sure Lo’ak doesn’t follow– do you copy?” 

Neteyam couldn't help but wince when he remembered the time they had failed to be spotters, but it was just that one time– why couldn’t he let it go? It weighed down heavily on his conscience; the mistake that even still, months later, sent shame prickling on every fiber of his being. 

Jake expected a copy in return– a curt yes-sir but Neteyam was silent. He finally urged himself to look up, only to see both his eldest locked in an intense stare, eyes never wavering nor breaking away from one another.

It clicked almost instantly the moment you walked through the flap of the hunt, clutching on the strap of your woven bag that held your own weapons. The war-paint drawn across your face had been the salt on the already deep cut of his– you were coming. Jake had asked you to come and he wasn’t. 

You were looking down at him, Neteyam was sure of it; judging him, and no doubt thinking of how much he had failed himself. His sense of shame deepened as he saw the derision in your expression, feeling more exposed than ever before. He wanted to disappear right then and there, anything to escape this moment that felt like an eternity. 

But you were there. You always were– and you could see straight through him. 

If only he knew how different your mind worked– how you desperately ached for the same concern Jake had for his son. You wanted him to understand the immense longing to be seen in the same light that he was in, to receive even a fraction of his unwavering affection; wanted Jake to care enough that this could be the last hunt he would have with you, that you could get hurt or worse. 

Jake was worried enough to sit his golden-child down; the one with capabilities greater than those warriors years older than him– the one he would make olo’eyktan someday. 

Not you. Never you. 

Neteyam was the first to turn away, a deep rugged grunt leaving his lips as he nodded once. 

“Lima charlie.” ) 

What really messed with his head was that, despite his obvious resentment, he couldn’t actually bring himself to truly despise you the way he felt he should. Every time Neteyam looks at you, he swears he only sees himself– the same child that only yearns for the recognition of a father. There is a reflection of each other in the two of you that binds you nonetheless. 

He wanted to truly look up to you; he wanted what Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk felt when they were with you– to have someone older, to feel as if the weight on his shoulders wasn’t his alone. Neteyam tried, he really did, but as much as you were there, you also weren’t. 

It wasn’t always like this. Your relationship with him wasn’t built entirely on rivalry– he knows he had something more familial with you before, but whatever it was had blurred along age. As much as he wanted to come closer, you were always two steps ahead of him. To you, he will always be olo’eyktan– but never a brother. 

It was a harsh reality– the same hands that cradled him when he was small couldn’t even look at him the same; like he had grown so ugly that you couldn’t recognize him at all. You didn’t even want to fly your ikran with him, nor did you want to train the same time he did. 

He hated you, but not quite– he could never hate his sister. You were more of a stranger now that lived under the same roof as him and it was better than to perceive you as someone rather horrible– but that was what you were. A horrible, horrible stranger. Someone who saved him once from trouble and handed him years of headache in return.

You were a horrible sister. That’s what you are. 

(“Tsmuke, what do I do?” 

You couldn't believe your eyes as you gazed down at the mess on the floor of the hut. Beads were all over, and what used to be a clay tray laid shattered into several pieces. Neteyam stood still in midst of it all— the culprit of such doing evident. Your brain wracked itself to move, to do something.

“This is sa’nok’s favorite necklace. She told me to come get it for her, but the shelf was too high–” Neteyam spoke in a rush, hands gesturing wildly as he talked. His face crumpled in worry and his brow furrowed with frustration.

"’Teyam, don't move!" you said in a hurry, alarmed at the thought of him taking a step forward. Moving quickly to his side, you gently stopped him from doing so and scooped him up under his armpits. He was heavy in your arms as you stood there with him, but the shards beneath were sharp enough to cut skin. You grunted as you moved him aside. 

"Tsmuke, what are we going to do?" He asked again, his voice running high with worry. 

You tried to think of another solution, assessing the situation once more. You glanced at him and said, "I'm going to tell ma I broke it so she won't be mad at you." You quickly search for something sturdy enough to scoop the pieces off the floor. Maybe you can redo the necklace, but there was no salvaging the tray. 

“But I broke it– she’ll know.” He visibly deflates, not exactly thrilled about not being truthful to Neytiri.

“Only if you tell her.” You said, looking up at him with a slight smile, though your heart was racing. You felt terrible knowing that you were going to disappoint Neytiri, especially since her beloved necklace had snapped– but something about your little brother's worry-stricken expression tugged on your heartstrings. You understood why her scolding was necessary, but it felt wrong to leave him alone to bear the brunt of it. “This will be our little lie, okay?” 

“Lie?” 

You immediately dismiss him, gesturing impatiently for him to exit the hut as quickly as possible. “I’ll tell you about it later, but you have to promise now that whatever mom says, just know that I broke it.” 

He only offered a subtle nod in response, his eyes glossed over as he nervously played with his hands.

“Say it, ‘teyam. She’ll be back any minute now!” 

"You broke it!" Neteyam had shouted and almost as if in response, Neytiri had walked in through the hut's entrance, all but gasping as she took in the sight before her– shards of what once held her jewelry now on the floor. She stumbled slightly as she carried the basket of fruits, before dropping it to the ground and quickly scurrying over towards you.

The scolding you got was harsh, but Neytiri couldn't do much other than wrap her arms around you and sigh. You were just a kid, after all. Mistakes like these are inevitable and all she could do was understand. 

Neteyam was patiently waiting just outside the doorway, swinging his legs back and forth as he listened with a heavy heart. He awfully felt guilty. You sat with him moments later.

“Why did you do that?” He quietly asked.

You looked at him with a confused face, “Do what?” 

"Lie." He says, his accent making the word feel awkward in his mouth. It was unfamiliar to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You only say, casually shrugging as you swung your legs along his. Little Neteyam looked at you with the most confused face; eyebrows furrowing and the creases in between deepening as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened. 

But then you glanced at him again– winked and gave a small giggle. 

And only there did he understand. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

“Thank you, y/n.” )

Neteyam didn’t even realize he had finally reached home. He stared at the flap of the hut, unable to let himself in, despite living here ever since. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having a moment alone with you– not when the thoughts that ran through his head had been unpretty. 

He knows damn well Eywa could strike him down if she heard herself. 

He sighed, “Y/n? Sa’nok asks for you.” He softly said, waiting for a reply. You had never been a deep sleeper; any little noise would bring you right back to consciousness. Every creak from the floor, every whisper and murmur from outside, even the lightest rustling of leaves would startle you wide awake in an instant. Neteyam knew of that, knew of the many sleepless nights you had. You had the habit of scratching the walls of the hut, carving who-knows-what on its surface. It kept him from being able to get any rest himself. 

When only silence greeted him, he finally urged himself to go inside only to be met with an empty space. 

Your absence now felt different to the other times when you had gone for a stroll through the forest or set out to train before dawn. It was not like that this time, and Neteyam felt it deeply. He frantically rummaged through the hut, searching every nook and cranny for anything that you possessed. Nothing. Neteyam stood at the center of the room, taking in the now cluttered room. 

His fingers nervously reached up to the intercom on his ears. A voice crackled over the device, "Sir, is y/n with you? Over." He took a deep breath as he glanced around once more. 

Almost quickly, Jake answered. “No, she should be back at the hut.”

 Neteyam gulped, “She isn’t– nor any of her things are. What do I do?”

“You– you! You let this happen, Jake!” 

After spending hours on scouring the forest for any trace of you, they had finally concluded that you had chosen to leave of your own accord. This was not something that anyone wanted to believe and yet it seemed like the only option left; none of your things were to be seen back at home, or at least those that were valuable to you— your worn-out saddlebag, the wooden bowl that you had carved yourself, weapons. All of it. Soon, eclipse neared and everyone was tired.

Neytiri was quick on her feet. As soon as Jake had returned from the south, she lunged at him – pushing him forcefully with a look he didn’t want to come home to. He attempted to grasp onto both her forearms, wanting desperately to soothe– but, try as he might, she continually knocked away his hands with increasingly greater force. It was like his very touch had burnt her skin; the same hands that held her children. 

“What did you do? What did you say?” Her panicked voice quivered as she asked in desperation. She felt her breath quicken, body absolutely worn out from everything that had happened. Neytiri’s tear-stained face was like a punch to his already battered heart. He had caused this. Jake had finally pushed you away. 

“One thing I asked of you– and this one thing you couldn’t do!” Each word that left her mouth was accompanied by a strike to his chest, not enough to cause any physical pain but enough to emphasize the anger he knew he had been keeping to herself for years. Neytiri was patient with him– understanding. Jake had pushed the limits of what she was capable of doing for him and this was the very consequence.

Shame. Nothing but shame. 

People were watching– warriors that had accompanied him on the search and lingering eyes of the clan, but he couldn’t care less. Jake allowed her to hit him, he let her push him around; it was better for him if she inflicted the pain instead of harboring it. He’d let the people talk for all he cared. He failed as an olo’eyktan and as a father. 

Let everyone know he failed his eldest.

“I did talk to her, please listen to me.” He begged, his pleadings faint. He desperately tried to reach out and grasp Neytiri's arm, yet his hands seemed unable to find the strength to hold her. His voice quivered as he spoke, fragile and hesitant in its delivery.

“Tell me how exactly!” 

And he couldn’t answer that. Not when he made the crucial mistake of not checking the hut beforehand. Maybe if he did, he would’ve known you had run away– maybe he could’ve gotten to you. The fact that you weren’t able to hear his vulnerability was a different heartbreak he refused to acknowledge. You were never there to begin with. 

When Neytiri saw that Jake had nothing to say in response, she was rendered speechless. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as she tried to muffle the cry that threatened to escape her throat. She frantically paced around, harshly tugging on her braids. Jake could only close his eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat. He stood there, stunned in silence. 

“My daughter, Jake! My daughter is out there with those– those demons scattered! She could be lost– dead! Do you not understand?” 

Dead. You could be dead. Jake refused to close his eyes, hoping he could keep the thought at bay. But it came back again and again, wriggling its way into his mind like a snake. He let his heavy eyelids shut and instantly, he was presented with a vision of you in the dark - his sweet babygirl, lying there lifeless. It would be his fault. The blood would be on his hands.

"Ma, please," Neteyam had spoken, his voice gentle in a bid to soothe his mother. He tried desperately to soften the blows, carefully pulling her away from Jake. It was Neteyam that calmed Neytiri and all he could do was stand and let it happen– what the hell was he doing? How could he fail so miserably? His eldest had to step in and do his job, his pride and joy. 

His gaze drifted across to where his other children were, huddled together on the corner. They looked bewildered at what they were hearing, unsure of what to make of it all. It seized him, squeezing what’s left of its already limp heart. Tuk was nestled in Kiri’s protective embrace, asking her– trying to understand. She asks of you, where have you gone? 

A father protects, that’s what gives him meaning and Jake Sully has done the opposite– ushering you to danger. 

“Have we failed them, Jake? Have I been a horrible mother?” Neytiri asked, her voice now barely above a whisper. She tried to be gentle with pushing Neteyam away, attempting to continue nonetheless. Jake placed a firm hand on his son's tense shoulders, and he gave him a subtle tilt of the head. He could see the battle that was raging inside of his young boy's head, between wanting to do what he felt was right and obeying his father's instructions. “Jake what have we done?”

Your mother needs this, his eyes try to tell him, go. Neteyam reluctantly steps back, deciding it was better to return to the others.

“Look for her again. Send out everyone this instant!” She sobs, pounding her fists against Jake’s chest in a desperate attempt to get her point across. Her neck is strained with veins popping out and bulging eyes filled with desperation, pleading him to understand. Each beat of her fists matched the intensity of her wails, no amount of tears ever seeming to be enough. 

Neytiri takes a heavy inhale once more, “I beg of you, Jake Sully. Find our daughter, bring her back home.” 

His gaze finally met hers and the feeling it brought was more than he could bear. He had to make a decision, another choice that would have to let her down again. “We can’t go looking for her now, Neytiri. We are already short on warriors, you know this.” He gently says, as if it was enough to soften the blow– but his eyes saw how her face slowly fell. He could clearly hear the telltale sound of her broken heart, shattering once more.

“I have to ensure everyone’s safety. Warriors are out scouring perimeters and we can’t risk one hold-up. Our family, Neytiri, I cannot risk our family,” 

“She is our daughter!” 

“And I am still olo’eyktan.” He was heartless. He was sure everyone thought so, but he had to be the one to make decisions. His composure was a mask that hid the fact that inside he was breaking apart; that he was failing– that he already had failed. If he let himself break down now, he might as well gamble everyone he loved. 

Jake’s responsibilities weighed down heavily on his shoulders. Everyone was at stake– Quaritch was on the loose. 

Neytiri told him he had a strong heart the moment they had met, but right now, it was stone-cold– shut off and mean. Not the compassionate man she had once saved. “I’m trying, Neytiri. I’ll get her home.” He tries to assure her, but the breathy shudder that left her lips only made him wince. 

He was finally able to wrap his arms around her mate and when he did, it was tight– as if he was trying desperately to piece her back together. He closed his eyes once more, kissing the top of her head. “I promise. She’ll be back, I promise.”

You were out there. Alive. He had a chance. 

Your mama’s crying for you, sweet child, come home. 

“Mawey, Mawey!” 

You found yourself in an unknown area. How you had gotten there, you could not explain. Your ikran, exhausted from the raging storm, needed some respite and so did you for that matter. After all, it would be cruel to deny her this much needed break even if it were just for a night. You only prayed that it’d be peaceful. 

You searched the space for materials needed for fire, but the rain was ruthless and provided no light. You felt a chill as you curled up beneath the shade of the tree. Hugging your knees to your chest you tried to conserve warmth, shivering slightly as a gust of wind blew past. Nothing around you but darkness - no stars, no moonlight, and not even the bioluminescence around provided much warmth. This was it, you thought.

Should I go home instead? Have they even noticed that I’ve gone?

Why couldn't you just stay? Why couldn't you have simply kept it all down inside rather than running away? You had been content enough to stay silent before, content enough to ignore everything; what had been different now? It was home still— who were you kidding?

Thoughts ran unmercifully inside your head as you sat motionless. 

You are never satisfied. 

I miss my mom. 

They deserve the heartache. 

You should’ve listened instead– now look at where you are.

Why couldn’t they love me?

Maybe I should head back. 

Father will be mad.

You wanted this– needed this. You had to prove yourself. There was no use crying over something small, a night had only passed. 

The snapping of leaves and rustling of bushes pulled you abruptly back to reality, your head quickly turning in its direction. You had been lost in thought before the sound startled you; the somber pool of thoughts still eddying in your mind. But there was something else nestled in that pool now, taking up the space– fear. Genuine and terrible, terrible fear. You might never come home ever again. You will never see them again. 

This was it, you thought, something that had been swirling around in the back of your mind since you’ve left now finally felt certain. You gripped your spear tightly in both hands. 

The cry that ripped through the air was deafening, shaking every part of your being. It felt like each syllable ricocheted around your entire body; coursing through your veins and settling in the cavity of your chest. Even the ground seemed to tremble in response, shaking beneath your feet as you tried to keep composure. There was no mistaking it; it was an 'angtsìk— a particularly angry one, at that. 

The loreyu that once surrounded you shriveled in response; coiling up and retracting to the ground, and then was gone completely, leaving you exposed to the hammerhead. 

You were in a desperate situation. It didn't help either that you were unable to make out your surroundings– you were one on one with an 'angtsìk with nothing but a spear and a lousy handgun (that you don’t even know why you brought in the first place. It was small on the palm of your hand, but it was valuable to Jake– this couldn’t damage any animal even if you tried.)

Lifting your bow and arrow and preparing to shoot would be pointless. The threat could be just a moment away; it could pounce on you in the blink of an eye, leaving you as food for its prey before you even have time to process the danger. 

You stood your ground, constantly shifting on your feet as you carefully backed away. You kept your gaze steadily ahead, refusing to break eye contact with the 'angtsìk– but when it roared again in response to your steps, you couldn't help but express your annoyance with a loud kiss of your teeth and an exasperated groan.

You did something that no one in a million years would ever consider or do– you ran straight towards it. 

You stepped forward with your spear raised, shaking it threateningly in front of the strange creature that had been creeping closer. Your movements were frenzied, a frenetic attempt to scare it off and make it retreat back to where it had come from. You could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage as you readied yourself for whatever would come next. All around you, an eerie silence had descended upon the dank forest that seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation– watching both of you. 

As it was poised to launch a counterattack, the creature suddenly halted; its gaze directed toward something past you with an expression of sheer terror, but your mind was too clouded for you to take any hint of the bigger threat skulking just behind you. You could feel the nervousness bubbling up from your chest, but before you knew it, a confident chuckle had escaped your lips that soon turned into fits of laughter, not believing how that foolish move of yours had made the 'angtsìk retreat.

“Yeah? Yeah! That’s right– you better run!”  You yelled, brandishing the spear in your hands and waving it around in triumph. “Get your punk-ass back to mommy, penis-face!” 

As the 'angtsìk disappeared into the distance, you allowed a sigh of relief to escape your lips. "You're not getting any of this, keep running!" You called out after it mockingly, putting your hands on your hips. In spite of this bravado, your heart was pounding and your knees were weak with fear– you were this close to give Eywa an early visit. 

You slowly turned back, that’s when you finally saw it; the force with which the thicket of bushes violently parted around it, the palulukan emerging from behind. It was like all the air had been sucked from your lungs, and a chill ran through your body as a wave of fear engulfed you. Every part of you tensed up, and you could feel your soul being wrenched from within.

You looked at it like a poor deer in headlights, grip momentarily loosening around your spear.

 If death knocked tonight, let it be instant.

NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT ?? ???? finally, after a month! (i am gonna be honest, i am this close to loosing interest in avatar.. jesus. i am holding onto crumbs people) this is so long overdue, but i hope it's good enough!

put so many references here, hope ppl can tell! teehee

not thoroughly edited so please feel free to point of any mistakes! thank you so much for being patient with me, until the next chapter loves! smooch &lt;;3

(i removed tags that didn't work anymore :/ again, i am not taking anymore tags! please leave your notif on instead) tags: @reyalvr @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @lunyyx @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch @pinkeroppi @mellowdiy @jimfiqs @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ayra2452008 @vodoo-heart @rose-brulante @starxao @bluevenus19 @entertain-my-lvst @wwwellacom @starjane312 @mona-aiko @audigay

Hiii, omg first of all I just wanted to say I loved Ur miles morales earth 42 imagine "second chance" like all my days I'm in love. But like anyway I was wondering if I could request another one with him and Spider man miles? Soooo, it's basically where in spider man miles earth the reader died and when he gets to earth 42 (the part where he thought he was back in his own earth) he sees her and try's to apologise for not saving her and that he's so glad she alive but little does he know the reader is actully with earth 42 miles and that miles gets all over protective and jealous???

(Hello! Sure I can and so sorry if this sucks but I hope you enjoy this little drabble!)

Not Your Lover

Miles knew something was wrong, he figured it out immediately, not really, but he did.

He knew he needed to leave. He knew he needed to get home. He wanted nothing more than to get home.

But every thought of leaving and going home, back to his home where his family was, disappeared when he heard the door open.

Home was where he had his family.

But home didn't have you.

"I'm back, Mrs. Morales!"

Miles froze the second he heard, standing in the hallway before he slowly turned on his heel to see you.

You looked just as beautiful. The same way you did before he couldn't save you.

Miles didn't know what to do, just watching as you left your things by the door, looking around as you walked in before your eyes met his.

Miles almost broke down once your eyes met him, your same smile on your face that you always had for him as you got closer.

"You okay, Miles?" You asked, your smooth voice bringing Miles nothing but comfort as he couldn't help but stare at you.

You looked at Miles confused, Miles couldn't help but to bring himself forward, bringing you into a much needed hug as he buried his face into your neck, almost crying as the familiar scent of your perfume he had gotten you filled his senses.

"Woah!"

Miles held onto you as you said in surprise, not letting go as you slowly hugged him back, he felt your arms around him as he did his best not to cry.

Miles didn't want to do anything but to stay with you, but couldn't as you pulled back, looking at him with seemingly worry as you cupped his cheek.

"Are you feeling okay?" You asked, concerned as Miles almost didn't hear you, barely shaking his head.

"No- yeah. I'm okay." Miles barely muttered out, eyes darting over your entire face, not wanting to look away in fear you would leave as you did before.

"Okay, then." You gave him a weird look before you smiled, brushing off his weird behavior as you took his hand, leading him out and to the stairs.

"Come on. I made something for you."

Miles could hear you say as you walked up the stairs quickly, like you always did, leaving him behind for a moment.

"Hey, wait up!" Miles called after you, desperate to not let you out his sight but stopped in pain as he glitched, groaning in pain as he leaned into the railing.

"Miles?"

Miles looked up to see you standing above the flight of stairs, looking at him weirdly.

Miles saved himself, waving his hand to dismiss your worry as he climbed after you quickly.

You got to the roof first, Miles coming through the door not far after.

"Hey-" Miles tried once more before he stopped himself, looking around the roof, the changes evident as he looked back and forth.

That wasn't everything that was new.

Miles couldn't help but look at the brick wall, staring for a moment before a passing by train lit it up, giving just enough time for Miles to see the painted face.

The face no longer was Uncle Aaron and you.

But instead was Miles' dad.

Miles couldn't look away, his wide eyes staring at the portrait of his dad.

He didn't save his dad. His dad was gone.

He needed to go home. He had to go home.

Miles couldn't move, his feet planted to the floor.

Miles only turned when he remembered you were there, he slowly turned his head, expecting to see anything but he got nothing.

Your face was changed, everything was different now as any aspect he saw of his (Name) was gone, replaced by someone else he didn't know.

Miles wanted to deny it, but the way you looked at him before a small smirk came onto your face rendered him, every spider sense screaming for him to get the hell out.

Suddenly, you whistled a soft tune. Your cunning smile still on your face as you walked around Miles, his eyes following you, a mistake.

Miles watched as a figure dressed in a familiar but different suit jumped from the rooftop of another building, Miles thought to escape but couldn't, already punched down to the floor.

"Too bad. He's pretty cute."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miles woke up with a pain, his body felt constricted and his sight blurred as everything hurt.

He couldn't remember where he was or what happened for a moment before his eyes shot open, the panic setting in.

Miles was chained to a punching bag, looking around frantically before he saw you.

Your back was turned to him, working at a desk peacefully.

Miles breathed heavily, panicking as he moved around, making the chains clink together and catching your attention.

You perked up quickly, turning around to look at him as you took out an earphone, looking him over like he was some sort of joke.

You then smiled, a smile he once loved, but a smile he now couldn't place and one he was growing to hate.

You whistled softly once more, a soft alert as you put down everything onto the desk, now leaning against it as you waited.

Miles was too stunned to speak, trying to find the words before he stopped as he looked up, seeing the one who rendered him unconscious now hanging from a support beam, dropping down quickly.

Miles stared at him as he stared back, his masked face concealing his identity.

Miles watched almost fearfully as panic rose again, spider senses hay-wire as the masked one got closer, close enough for Miles to look at his face directly.

"Take off the fucking mask. It's not scaring anyone, babe."

Miles glanced at you, seemingly shocked and hurt as you called him babe.

But Miles was even more shocked as he heard the one in the mask sigh, the mask coming off a moment later to stun Miles even more.

Under the mask, resided his face.

Miles Morales' exact copy was under the mask, or at least, him in this world.

Miles could only watch as the formerly masked Miles glared at him before his copy walked over to you, forced to watch as you smiled up at him.

Miles could feel his heart beating and almost cracking as you glanced at him, the same smug smile on your lips as your Miles stood close to you.

Your Miles slipped his hand onto your neck, kissing your forehead before he went to your lips, and greedily, you accepted his kiss.

Miles knew a lot in his life, and that was that he loved his (Name) and she loved him.

You were not his (Name).

His (Name) died for him.

You would be the death of him.

unrelated, but should I dabble in the world of 'x readers' again,,,