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#cultural competency training
murrayanker60 · 1 month
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What is Aboriginal Cross-culture Awareness Training?
We are common becoming increasingly conscious of the call to be conscious of different cultures and even the Aboriginal culture is not any different. Depending on your working environment and sometimes your social circle may determine from what lengths you should head to, being completely mindful of different cultures. This is where cross-cultural awareness training comes in invaluable particularly if it is required in an operating environment. To use it simply, Cross Cultural Awareness is the ability to disappear from ourselves and still have a knowledge and comprehension of the cultural values and customs of other cultures. You will find this across all cultures, as an illustration, the culture that we have in Australia is very different to that in say Japan. What is acceptable and normal practice in one culture could possibly be unusual as well as offensive in another which is something that we always have to be alert to. When it comes to the Aborigines we want an awareness and respect of the different value systems passed in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander culture, in terms of family, land, sea and heritage. It is only natural a large number of people are stuck as to what would commonly be referred to as our safe place. Cross cultural awareness brings us away from that comfort zone and challenges not merely our own attitudes but that regarding others. It involves altering mindsets and changing people misconceptions and consequently, it's going to bring communities and cultures closer together. In reality this generates a better environment for anyone to call home and sometimes breaks down barriers that quite simply, really should not be there. When you participate in a training program you will see how to communicate effectively with Aborigines, understanding their culture, their society and their beliefs. There are certain "Aboriginal Protocols" that should be observed, something very few people would be mindful of as they would view it to be a long way away from the norm. This is one area that you would learn during the learning a workshop. So, what's going to you learn? Firstly, you'll want to understand their culture so that you could become aware of it. Aboriginal Kinship then has to be understood simply because this will help you to appreciate far more why things are done. This will unquestionably transform your knowledge and understanding then when tied in with key historical events that have happened in Australia during the last 250 years you will get a deeper understanding. Of course, once you've this understanding it will be possible to match and contrast lifestyles and understand what is unique to the Aboriginal culture. This will include social determinants and Aboriginal overall health let alone their own language and strategies to communication. Finally, cross cultural communication training is possible to spot strategies to moving for forward and extracting more barriers in the foreseeable future, it mat be preventing these barriers from being set up to begin with.
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artspace11275201418 · 5 months
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The Craft of Integration: Balancing Various Aspects
Fundamentally, integration is the artful blending of disparate components into a cohesive whole. 
It is a complex idea that transcends its mathematical and technical meanings and influences many facets of our lives, including personal growth, technology breakthroughs, and societal structures. 
By combining different elements, this process produces a whole that is stronger than the sum of its parts.
Understanding Integration:
1. Social Integration:
The first step in comprehending integration is social integration, which in social situations is the inclusion and cohesiveness of various communities, cultures, and ideologies within a larger framework.
 Building mutual respect, comprehension, and cooperation is essential to creating a thriving and cohesive community.
2. Personal Integration: 
This refers to the process of bringing one's emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual selves into harmony and balance on a personal level, which promotes inner contentment and fulfillment.
3. Technological Integration: 
To improve efficiency, connectedness, and functionality, different systems and technologies must seamlessly interact with one another. This is known as technological integration.
Elements of Successful Integration:
1. Collaboration and Communication:
Open communication and teamwork are essential to an effective integration. 
Innovation flourishes when disparate viewpoints come together to produce solutions that cover a wider range of requirements.
2. Flexibility and Adaptability: 
Adaptability to change and a flexible manner of working are essential components of integration. Ideas and systems change throughout time, and being able to adapt guarantees a more seamless integration process.
3. Respect for difference: 
It is essential to accept differences, whether it be in terms of culture, ideology, or technology. Respecting diversity enhances the integration process and promotes inclusivity and innovation.
4. Thorough Planning: 
A carefully considered plan is necessary. 
Whether organizations, cultures, or technology are being merged, a thorough plan guarantees a less disruptive transfer.
Applications Across Fields:
 1. Business and Mergers: 
Mergers and acquisitions are common ways for businesses to integrate. The success of such undertakings is contingent upon the seamless integration of cultures, operations, and teams.
2. Urban Planning:
 To improve livability and sustainability, cities must be designed with a seamless integration of infrastructure, transit, and residential areas.
3. Educational Integration: 
By combining different academic fields and pedagogical approaches, an all-encompassing educational experience is produced that promotes interdisciplinary learning and critical thinking.
4. Technology and Interoperability: 
By combining various systems and technologies, such as those found in the Internet of Things (IoT), interconnected ecosystems are created that improve efficiency and streamline procedures.
Problems and Solutions:
1. Resistance to Change: 
Integration attempts are frequently hampered by resistance. Addressing concerns and encouraging a sense of ownership, clear communication, and involving stakeholders in the process might help to reduce opposition.
2. Compatibility Problems: 
There may be compatibility problems when integrating different systems or cultures. Detailed investigation and a flexible strategy can assist in overcoming such obstacles.
3. Cultural Differences: 
It takes empathy and sensitivity to navigate different cultural environments. Bridging gaps is facilitated by cultivating an inclusive culture and offering cultural competency training.
In conclusion, 
the beauty of unity in diversity is embodied in the art of integration. Its effective use depends on striking a careful balance between comprehension, cooperation, and adaptation, whether in societal structures, personal growth, or technology breakthroughs. 
Accepting the complexities of integration promotes development, creativity, and coexistence in a world that is constantly changing.
Please be aware that a single response cannot produce 3000 completely original and thorough pieces of content in this style. 
The content that has been supplied provides a comprehensive overview of the subject matter, highlighting its numerous elements, problems, and applications in a range of sectors. 
If you require additional details or clarification regarding further details on any particular point if you need them!
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swim-culture-is · 1 year
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swim culture is long course
.
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mynameisquoi · 2 years
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“Young women and girls ages 10-19 who were pregnant were six times more likely to die by homicide when compared to their non-pregnant peers.”
“Young black pregnant women in the same age range were 12 times more likely to die by homicide.”
“Black women were eight times more likely to be killed by their intimate partner than non-pregnant Black women.”
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elusive-silence · 1 month
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Developing Cross-Cultural Competence as a Coach
In the bustling streets of Wilmington, NC, where cultures blend as seamlessly as the waves meet the shore, the need for cross-cultural competence in coaching is more vivid than ever. Willis Coaching, nestled at the heart of this diverse community, stands as a beacon for young adults seeking guidance through the complex tapestry of their lives. It's here, in the melting pot of experiences and backgrounds, that the journey towards developing cross-cultural competence begins.
Cross-cultural competence, in essence, is the ability to navigate and thrive within the rich spectrum of global cultures. It's about understanding, respecting, and valuing the differences that make each of us unique, while also finding the common ground that unites us. For a coach, especially one dedicated to empowering young adults, it’s like having a master key that unlocks the full potential of every individual they work with.
At Willis Coaching, we recognise that each young adult's story is as distinct as a fingerprint, shaped by a unique blend of cultural influences. Our approach is rooted in the belief that truly effective coaching cannot be one-dimensional. It must be as dynamic and multifaceted as the individuals we support. This ethos drives us to constantly expand our understanding of the myriad cultures that make up our world.
The journey to cross-cultural competence starts with self-awareness. It's a deep dive into understanding our own cultural identities and biases, recognising how they shape our perceptions and interactions. Willis Coaching champions this introspective approach, encouraging both coaches and clients to explore their cultural backgrounds. This exploration is the first step towards mutual understanding and respect.
Education plays a crucial role in developing cross-cultural competence. It’s about actively seeking knowledge about different cultures, histories, and societal structures. At Willis Coaching, we're committed to ongoing learning, regularly engaging in training sessions and workshops that enhance our understanding of the world's rich cultural tapestry. This commitment to education ensures that our coaching is informed, respectful, and inclusive.
Empathy is the heart of cross-cultural competence. It's the ability to put oneself in another's shoes, to feel and understand their experiences from within their cultural context. Willis Coaching prioritises empathy in every coaching session, creating a safe space for young adults to express their thoughts, feelings, and experiences without fear of judgement.
Communication, especially active listening, is another cornerstone of cross-cultural competence. It involves truly hearing what others are saying, both verbally and non-verbally, and responding in ways that acknowledge and respect their perspective. At Willis Coaching, we emphasize the importance of clear, respectful, and mindful communication, ensuring that every young adult feels heard and understood.
Flexibility and adaptability are key attributes of a cross-culturally competent coach. They allow us to tailor our coaching strategies to meet the unique needs and cultural backgrounds of each client. At Willis Coaching, we pride ourselves on our ability to adapt our methods, ensuring that our coaching is as effective and meaningful as possible for every individual.
Developing cross-cultural competence is an ongoing process, a journey without a final destination. It requires dedication, humility, and a genuine desire to understand and connect with others. Willis Coaching is committed to this journey, continually striving to enhance our competence to better serve the diverse community of young adults in Wilmington, NC.
In conclusion, cross-cultural competence is not just an asset; it's a necessity in today's globalised world. It enables us to bridge divides, build connections, and empower individuals to navigate the complexities of their cultural identities. For any young adult in Wilmington, NC, looking for a coaching service that truly understands and respects the diversity of the human experience, Willis Coaching is here, ready to guide you through every step of your journey.
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thisisgraeme · 3 months
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Championing Inclusive Education in New Zealand: Navigating Risks and Strategies for Tertiary Institutions
Explore how inclusive education is shaping the future of tertiary education in NZ. Dive into challenges, strategies, and the impact on society. #InclusiveEducationNZ #EducationForAll 📚
Inclusive Education in New Zealand: Addressing Overlooked Tertiary Education Domains In Aotearoa New Zealand, the realms of tertiary education extend far beyond traditional academic subjects, encompassing essential facets such as adult literacy and numeracy (LN), Māori cultural capability, Pacific cultural centredness, and support for neurodiversity. However, these crucial domains often find…
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cuckerfailson · 3 months
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im so fucking tired of not only being misgendered constantly but being around such drooling fucking morons and teenagers that there isnt a single competent adult i can fucking rely on to know how to do their goddamn job, much less vent to.
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thresholdbb · 6 months
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What kinda training do they get before going on a mission though?
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wileycap · 5 months
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Crackfic Idea:
30-year-old Zuko gets randomly flung back in time to his 16-year-old self. For a couple of hours at a time. At the most random times imaginable. Imagine the potential.
Zuko assumes that it's a dream or a vision, but definitely not real. He tries not to freak everybody out too badly, but he's also fully enjoying himself and seeing all of his friends as their young selves.
ZUKO, as he and Aang circle each other at the South Pole: I've spent years preparing for this encounter. Training, meditating. You're just a [Spirit Shwoop Sound] ... baby Aang!
AANG, confused: Well, more like preteen Aang. How do you know my name?
ZUKO, looking around: Wait, where are we?
AANG: Um... this is the-
SOKKA: Don't answer him! He's trying to get information out of you. You can't give away our location!
KATARA: Sokka, he's standing in the middle of our village. I think he knows.
ZUKO: We're here? This is so weird. I was just here for the Annual Penguin Race.
AANG: THERE'S AN ANNUAL PENGUIN RACE?!
ZUKO: Well, yeah, it was your idea... you gave a whole speech about cross-cultural cooperation and friendship, but I know you just wanted to go penguin sledding with a bunch of people...
AANG: Well, I-
SOKKA: Stop giving him more information! He already knows about the penguins!
Everybody else is confused, bewildered and even befuddled except for Iroh, who assumes that it's Spirit Shenanigans™️ and just fully accepts that his nephew likes tea and hugs and Pai Sho sometimes while being his usual shouty surly traumaball self at others.
ZUKO, stepping into the cabin: Hi, Uncle. I brought you some ginseng. How about a game of Pai Sho?
IROH, tearing up a little: I would love that, my nephew.
ZUKO: I wish we could do this more often, but you live so far away...
IROH, mentally calculating that he lives exactly three doors away from Zuko, and nodding sagely: The rat-viper may never climb the mountain that a hog-monkey can, but the monkey does not know what lies underneath it.
ZUKO, sighing sadly: I know, Uncle. I do appreciate my position in life, even if it has disadvantages.
IROH: Hmm. Your move, nephew.
The crew of Zuko's ship is terrified by the fact that whenever it happens, Zuko is somehow even more hyper-competent, seems to be weirdly calm about everything, and most unnervingly of all, he's polite.
SOLDIER: Here is a report on the best teahouses within three days travel of our current location, Sir. And, uh, Commander Zhao sent a messenger hawk.
ZUKO: Excellent. Thank you very much, Sergeant. I think we can ignore whatever Zhao has to say. In reply, I want you to send him a list of the most famous officers in Fire Nation history, and point out that none of them had sideburns. I want to see if he shaves them.
SOLDIER, sweating nervously: O-of course, Sir.
As a matter of fact, the whole fic could just be Zuko trolling Zhao. It would be glorious.
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makoodles · 10 months
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ミ the mightiest
part 1 | part 2
🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader 🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!
adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!
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The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.
It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.
Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.
It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.
Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.
“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.
You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.
“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.
Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.
“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.
He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”
“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.
“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”
Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.
“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”
Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.
“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”
You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.
“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”
There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.
“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”
God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.
“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”
That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.
You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.
And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.
Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.
“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.
You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.
“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”
Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.
“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.
His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.
Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.
If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.
In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.
Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.
And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.
His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.
“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.
It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.
“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.
A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.
“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.
You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.
You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.
He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.
“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.
“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.
Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.
Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”
Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.
“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.
Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.
For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.
“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”
As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.
Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.
You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”
He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”
And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.
“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.
Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.
“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.
But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.
You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.
Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.
Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.
“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”
He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!
“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.
You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.
But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.
As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Problem?”
His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”
You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.
The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.
In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.
In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.
You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.
You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.
Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.
But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.
He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.
God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.
Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.
You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.
“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.
You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”
There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.
“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”
Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.
“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.
“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.
You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.
You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.
Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.
Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.
You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.
“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.
You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.
“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.
Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.
Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.
You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.
"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.
In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.
"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.
The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.
Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.
Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.
“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”
Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”
You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”
Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.
“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”
Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.
When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.
"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.
"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."
You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”
“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.
You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.
But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.
His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.
It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.
You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.
“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.
“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”
“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”
You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”
Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.
If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.
You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.
“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.
You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.
“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.
“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.
“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.
Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.
“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.
He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.
Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.
The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.
Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.
“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”
You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.
“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”
Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.
“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”
Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.
“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”
And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.
And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.
Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.
Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.
“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”
“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.
Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.
This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.
His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.
It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.
You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.
You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.
“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”
He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”
It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.
“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”
Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.
“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”
Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.
“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”
Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?
“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”
Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”
Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”
You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.
“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”
Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.
“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.
“Hey–”
As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.
Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.
Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.
You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.
“Tawtute?”
You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.
“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.
Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”
You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.
You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.
But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.
You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.
Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.
You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.
Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.
There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.
The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.
When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.
“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”
You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.
“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”
“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.
Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.
“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”
“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”
You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.
Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.
You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.
You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.
“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”
You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.
“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.
His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.
“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.
It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?
Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.
“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”
“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.
It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.
“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”
Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”
“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”
Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.
“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.
You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.
“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”
Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.
You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.
“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.
“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”
You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.
“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”
“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.
When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.
Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.
You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.
“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”
“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”
Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.
“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”
The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.
Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.
You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.
You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.
All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.
But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.
“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”
Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.
Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.
“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.
Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.
“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.
There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.
“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.
This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.
Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.
You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.
At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.
“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.
He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.
“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.
“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.
You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.
Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.
“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.
“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.
Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.
It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.
Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.
Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.
Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.
He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.
You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.
“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.
Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.
You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.
It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.
Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.
Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.
Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.
You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.
You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.
Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.
Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.
Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.
He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.
Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.
It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.
“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.
“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”
“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”
You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.
“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.
“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”
Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.
“Y-yes.” You say.
Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?
“How would you like me to–”
“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.
Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.
The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.
What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.
“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”
“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”
And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.
Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.
“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"
You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.
Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.
“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.
Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.
“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.
You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.
Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.
“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.
What the fuck?
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murrayanker60 · 2 months
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Australian Aboriginal Art Exhibited by Internationally Renowned Aboriginal Artists
The great thing about art goes past time and space. It doesn't discriminate on race, age, gender, language or culture. This is very true with Australian Aboriginal art. The traditions with the Indigenous Australians are colourfully blended and interwoven into striking strokes to mention a rich culture. What makes Australian Aboriginal art very rewarding is the place where the Aboriginal folks have shared their long artistic traditions using the non-Indigenous society. Aboriginal art is a creative revelation of the past, life, culture and tradition. aboriginal culture courses of contemporary Aboriginal art is the presence of the traditional symbols, which use conventional designs which may have cultural or religious significance or power. The Butler Goode Gallery Exhibits Australian Aboriginal Artists The indigenous behaviour, beliefs, rituals and life are typical told in a story that only art can express. The Butler Goode Gallery trust the benefit and depth of the artistic expression, this is exactly why they exhibit the enriching and captivating realm of Aboriginal art of their gallery. They boast an easy portfolio of artwork painted by up-and-coming and well-established artists. Here are some in the amazing artists featured in their gallery: Anna Petyarre Commenced painting noisy . 1980s Included in several art collections in galleries and museums in Australia and other private and corporate collections in USA, Germany, Denmark, Poland and Italy Joined art exhibitions around Australia along with USA and France Barbara Weir Daughter from the late famous Aboriginal artist Minnie Pwerle Commenced painting in 1989 Developed a sophisticated contemporary painting style Travelled to Indonesia to understand batik techniques Travelled to Europe to demonstrate her artworks Included in various art collections in galleries and museums in Australia, The Netherlands Joined art exhibitions in Australia, Singapore, Korea, USA and countries in Europe Charlie Tjapangati Senior Papunya Tula artist; one in the leading Papunya Tula Pintupi artists whose artworks are sought by collectors worldwide Chris Wirriimbi Edwards Descendant from the Gumbaynggir people Developed an exceptional design of painting where he mixes sand coming from a sacred beach in Nambucca Heads with modern materials like acrylic paint His artwork is deeply spiritual His unique method of depth and form makes him certainly one of Australia's most popular emerging Aboriginal artists Dorothy Napangardi Featured in exhibitions throughout Australia, USA and Europe, where she actually is deemed one from the leading artists in the contemporary Aboriginal art movement Highly sought after by both collectors and curators worldwide Won the Best Painting in European Media within the 8th National Aboriginal Art Award in 1991 along with other awards in several art exhibitions Featured at The Australian Council; the Linden Museum in Stuttgart, Germany; and Kelton Foundation in Santa Monica, USA Emily Kame Kngwarreye Her first solo exhibition of paintings on canvas is at 1990 at Coventry Gallery, Sydney Her pure talent with colour gave her instant recognition from art critics and collectors Awarded the Australian Artists Creative Fellowship with the Australian Federal Government Her paintings are permanently displayed in public areas galleries Showcased in many exhibitions worldwide These artists and many more always bring forth "Dreamtime"-inspired Aboriginal art throughout Australia and in the world. Aboriginal art won't ever fade because The Butler Goode Gallery will assure that well-established and emerging Aboriginal artists get showing their help collectors and art enthusiasts worldwide.
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mxpaint · 2 years
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been thinking a lot recently about how trans people often don't feel safe in medical spaces and how many times I've watched that fear pan out into negative health outcomes but also about how the bodies of trans & intersex folks are medicalized and we can't get the care we need without passing through endless rounds of gatekeepers in every clinic that claims to serve us.
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etherealstar-writes · 4 months
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I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 9
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pairings: lionesses x reader
summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.
part: nine
part one here
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
You were seated on the couch with your best friend, Dani, in her apartment with bowls of snacks stacked in front of you guys. Dani was the one currently obsessed with the women football since England was hosting the Euros, and would be the one spamming you with edits.
She'd begged you to come tonight to watch the quarter finals with her with England versing Spain. And you'd finally given in, hoping to finally get cultured and then flex off to the group chat that you finally knew the names of more players other than just Lucy Bronze.
And so here you were, your eyes glued on the tv screen as the National Anthem had ended and the match was about to start. Your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion when the line-ups had been displayed for a few seconds before the kick-off whistle was blown. The last names of the Lionesses were somehow familiar, but before you could dwell on it more, it went away.
"Okay so," Dani began, pointing to the different players as the match began. "The blonde one with the number 8 on her back is Leah Williamson, my personal fav, and the captain of the team."
You nodded along.
Leah Williamson. Seems familiar.
"And then the one in goals is Mary Earps. There's Lucy Bronze with the number 2 on her back and Mille Bright next to Leah with number 6. Over there running is Keira Walsh and she has 4 on her back."
Your eyebrows furrowed again when you heard the name Earps and Bright, but decided to ignore it.
"Right there is Lauren Hemp with 11 next to Fran Kirby who's 14, and that one is Rachel Daly with number 3 on her back."
Nahhh, it couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Leah, Earps, Bright, Kie, Lauren, and now Daly?
"Oh, and that's Stanway with the ball. She just passed it to Meado!"
Hold on.
Your eyes widened. "Meado?"
"Yeah, Beth Mead. We call her Meado." Dani nodded, glancing at you and saw that you had a shocked look on your face. "You good?"
"Wait, so would Stanway's first name be Georgia by any chance?" You questioned.
"Yeah, you guessed it right!" Dani laughed. "It looks like my edits are helping."
You forced a smile on your face and nodded along, but internally you were screaming. You grabbed your phone and googled all the players on the football squad including the subs, noticing the resemblance to all the names on the group chat.
Leah Williamson. Georgia Stanway. Ella Toone. Alessia Russo. Beth Mead. Lotte Wubben-Moy. Niamh Charles. Lucy Bronze. Mary Earps. And it went on. Some had only spoken once but you had seen their name.
While Dani was focused on the game, you were lost in your own thoughts. It all seemed like a big joke right now.
The times they'd be in the gym and would be training together. The photos they would send on the chat where they were in what you now realised were their football kits, and the football games they would pass off as a bit of fun. And the fact that Lucy Bronze had commented your post.
It all made sense when you thought about it.
These past few months you'd been chatting with them, you'd thought you had gotten to "know" them better, but really you knew practically nothing because they'd continued to hide about who they were and would change the topic when you did try to bring it up, all while knowing basically everything about you.
And suddenly, you felt very stupid and very played, as well as kinda betrayed.
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
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liked by danisterling and 140 others
yourusername: me raiding all of dani's snacks while trying to understand football. england national football team or national diving team? who knows 🤷‍♀️ is it coming home lionesses?
danisterling: it's coming homeeeee ↳ yourusername: let's hope so
laniangelo: maybe you'll get lucky and another of them will see this post and you can finally become a wag ↳ yourusername: new fear: unlocked
chasejackson: looking flawless l/n 😩 ↳ yourusername i know 😌
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM
the imposter well done on the match girls! you guys played great loved the goals toone and stanway
elton
thank you so much y/n!
stairway ahh thank you y/n really appreciate it wait .... HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT ITS US
neev oh no
the imposter have fun messing around with someone else and hiding your identities from them! xx
the imposter left
meado what were you guys expecting? you were literally going to be on tv playing football she was bound to see and find out soon you should've told her sooner
stairway we messed up didn't we?
willybum yeah
neev we gotta fix this
the REAL karate kid how she probably hates us
elton i got an idea
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
leahwilliamsonn started following yourusername alessiarusso99 started following yourusername ellatoone started following yourusername stanwaygeorgia started following yourusername niamhcharles17 started following yourusername lottewubbenmoy started following yourusername lucybronze started following yourusername 1maryearps started following yourusername and more started following yourusername
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
part ten here
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oliviawebsite · 2 months
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i agree w you about pre employment drug testing but job interviews? the thing where they meet you? and see what your like and if you’ve got the skills required? i dont get why theyre bad
ive elaborated multiple times on this. they are not skill checks by any means. they are only in place to filter "undesirables" from employment positions. they are ALWAYS subject to cultural biases. this is why so many people struggle to find work. now they can see youre a tranny before drafting up any paperwork and they can reject you with enough plausible deniability to claim it wasnt discrimination. this is the purpose of interviews. they ask generic blanket questions that test how Normal the subject is. its a way of doing things with a ton of negative side effects and whether it was intentional or not (its very much intentional btw) we need to rethink how we do job placement in the western capitalist world. people shouldnt have to grovel and socially compete with each other for an opportunity to barely cover their living expenses. job interviews need to be abolished. as i elaborared to a previous anon, there can be placement programs, employers can be required to offer paid training trial periods to job seekers. we dont have to do it the way we do it now.
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shrimz08 · 2 months
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AANG & OZAI PARALLELS: DEBUNKED
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Because apparently the true villain is the sole survivor of a genocide of his entire nation, and not the imperialist colonizer.
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Where do I even begin?? Because I’m genuinely holding in laughter writing this, it’s absolutely insane how certain people can make such egregious parallels that aren’t even found in the first place. 
AH, so a little backstory on how this fucking shit stained idea even came to existence, well our dear z^tara fans pissed their pants over Zuko and Katara not tying the knot, so, as a way of retribution for their supposed “honour” They take any chance to jump on the Aang hate train and make him into some irredeemable abusive demon, aaand they got that perfect opportunity because the LoK decided to take a lick out of the great “Main Characters Must Be Bad Parents In The Sequels” Trope. Which personally, does absolutely nothing to the protagonists resolution aside from cheap family drama but I digress. 
Now, I’m not behind the idea of the writers trying to make Aang a “flawed” Parent, I think it really makes no sense by how they went about it, (I might touch on this in another post) 
((And it’s so very clear that they’re trying to give it a soft “retcon” And even taking extra steps saying that Kya and Bumi just “remember wrong” Which I’ll actually take, because season two of LOK was hell on earth anyway so you might as well give it some saving grace.)) 
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There’s three main parallels that they got from Ozai and Aang: (god help me)
Favouring a child
isolating the rest
leaving pressure On the golden child
I’m going to debunk all three of them while trying not to fall into complete lunacy over how ridiculous they are. 
Favouring a child + Leaving pressure: 
OK, so people are clearly blind with context clues and media comprehension, got it. No surprise whatsoever. I can’t be disappointed if I didn’t even have any expectations to begin with. 
Let’s compare the treatment on how Ozai treats Azula, and how Aang treats Tenzin. (Holy Shit)
Beginning with Ozai, well.. It doesn’t take much of a rocket scientist to understand that Ozai essentially could not give two fucks about Azula, as she in essence, serves the role of an attack dog, as long as it does its job, it’s worthy. 
Ozai favoured Azula because she was molded to match his ferocity and hunger for power, she was a prodigy bender, and was cunning and calculated, all traits that Ozai found endearing and someone worthy to be crowned the next “fire lord.” His “favouring” Of her didn’t come out of genuine love or care, she is his tool who serves a purpose. In short, she showed more competency and more ruthlessness and callousness in comparison to Zuko. Which earned her, her place as the “Golden Child.”  
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None of this is even remotely similar to how Aang treated Tenzin and his kids, aside from the fact he supposedly “favoured” Tenzin more, but that is such a baseline statement and has absolutely no relation with Ozai's reasons.
You have to understand that an entire FUCKING NATION IS DEAD. History, Culture, Tradition, is at the BRINK of being wiped out, Tenzin is quite literally the only Airbender that will be left after Aangs passing. Why do people devalue this concept so much? 
“B-BUT THE AIR ACOLYTES1!!” Still have limited knowledge, airbending is so heavily tied to its spiritual roots, you LOSE your ability to AIRBEND, if you aren't inclined to your spiritual side. Which is a core part of the air nomad culture. Tenzin is... Literally the only god forsaken part left of that, so yeah. It’s a pretty big fucking deal. Aang values his culture and teachings to such a high degree, he is literally the survivor of a genocide. His favouring of Tenzin was done out of necessity and love, not out of a need for power and a new attack dog to send orders around. 
Tenzin will literally be the future “Director” Or guide for the next avatar to learn airbending, people still forget this, and it’s hilarious. He needs to know all the moves, all the teachings because he will be the next avatar's personal guide. 
Aang constantly reassures him, and apologizes for the pressure that may be put upon him but he always reaffirms that he’ll be there to guide him and they’ll “learn together”
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So yeah not the same thing at all. Fuck you for being so inept at understanding the different reasons and perspectives of those situations, just for some petty ship discourse, genuinely disgusting.
Isolating the children:
OK this part, I have to say that the writers definitely messed up with aangs characterization, but I think the execution came out way differently than the intention, so I will try to look more into the intention of each decision.
Ozai isolated Zuko, mistreated him, belittled him, PHYSICALLY ABUSED HIM, but yeah totally on par with Aang actually. 
I don’t wanna touch on this part much mainly because his treatment was literally explained all throughout the show, and granted, while I understand most of these people haven’t touched the show aside from reading fanfic 300000 Where Aang is revealed to us as satan himself, but perhaps, even a small peak at Ozai's parenting would reveal the laughable contrast between the two.
Zuko was a slow learner, and much more of a softie, and a “mama's boy” To Ozai’s heavy dislike, he was thus treated as such, he was belittled, turned down, and literally burnt alive for showing “weakness” He is meant to serve as a direct contrast to Azula, ”The everything he isn't.” 
Kya and Bumi on the other hand, don’t show any actual signs of trauma aside from some petty jabs they threw at Tenzin, 
Bumis talk with Aang at the statue was *very very* Clearly, meant to highlight his own inferiority complex that he internalized growing up. His need for proving himself to be capable of doing just as much if not more than a “bender” Probably happened because his two parents were both prodigy benders and him being a first born son who was a non-bender must’ve hit pretty hard for him, and I’m so sure that katara and Aang reassured how special he is but that kind of thing doesn’t really go away.
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Kya: [while healing Bumi] I told you those rocks were slippery. You're lucky you didn't kill yourself.
Bumi: You done with the lecture, mom?
Kya: Oh, grow up. You haven't changed one bit since we were kids. You're still trying to prove you can do everything a bender can. Well, you can't. Deal with it.
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 That talk with Aangs statue was very much meant to unveil an internal struggle rather than a conflict he had with his father. Kya even doubles down on this, telling him “of course he’d be proud of you” Basically spoon feeding to us, the viewers, that this is much more of internal than an external conflict that he has to overcome along the show. 
“Why Didn’t he share his culture with them 1!!1!” 
He most definitely did, or tried to, but it’s clear they didn’t show much interest so he didn’t pester, this is shown many times throughout the show. 
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“You know I could never keep all those gurus straight… There were like a million of them!
remember that long boring story about the guy who never ate?”
This is literally Kya’s remark to Tenzin just after he tried teaching the airbender students this story, basically telling us that Aang DID try to tell them about his stories and culture, but much to their disinterest, didn’t try any further. 
And Bumi, literally could not pay attention to the story to save his life, and instead decided to fool around in his literal 60’s!! I mean Imagine what he was like when he was a kid!! 
I could imagine their dynamic was very similar to Jinora with Meelo and Ikki, Tenzin being the only one with actual interest and care, whilst Bumi and Kya goofing off and not putting much focus onto it. WHICH IS FINE BTW!! 
It only goes to reiterate that Tenzin was the only one who was actually giving interest and attention to the air nomad culture, and it was of Kya and Bumi’s own personal choice to not partake in it. To each their own I see. 
“BUT WHAT ABOUT THE VACATIONS” 
This.. I agree, weird for the writers to decide this, but given how they low-key are retconning it in interviews, my best guess is that each of those trips were side-quests during their journey to teach an important lesson that might’ve just drowned out because Tenzin may not have remembered it as well. 
Also keep in mind that Tenzin was put into a lot of pressure, Aang probably saw this, and as a way to still keep it enjoyable, he took him to trips that would help ease the mind for a little kid whilst also learning something valuable. That seems pretty on brand for Aang actually
And given that Kya and Bumi are literally in their fucking 60’s it wouldn’t surprised me if they didn’t have the greatest memory. Hell, they didn’t even fault Aang as a parent until Tenzin started boasting about “trips” That Kya and Bumi gave petty jabs but weren’t actually showing genuine hurt, just annoyance.
Kya even comments how Aang was too busy “Trying to save the world, and doing his duty that he didn't have much time for them” 
Phrasing as if it wasn't anything "important" But it's clear that this was Kya's own personal irritation towards Tenzin rather than an actual evaluation on Aang's duties.
A continuation comic best explains it in a deeper way:
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Literally showing that “neglecting” His kids wasn't up to him, and was out of a sense of necessity, trying to cram as much knowledge onto Tenzin, the only one who was basically putting his lessons into practices. Kya and Bumi were left feeling neglected. But that wasn’t out of his decision; he still loved them dearly.
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This. Literally highlighting how much pressure was forced upon Aang, so yes, as any person would, he struggled with making time for everybody. Holy shit who knew?? 
GASP!! IS THAT… A REALISTIC BUT UNDERSTANDABLE FLAW!!?? HOW DARE YOU! ITS OZAI #2 
The fact that the smiley energetic person forgets to SMILE, is a big deal, man was put through hells amount of stress but he never cracked.
So tell me, how is a genocidal freak, who treats his golden child like a tool and abuses the other both physically and emotionally for showing “weakness’ 
Even remotely comparable to
 the sole survivor of a genocide, trying to withhold his teachings and culture onto literally his only child that showed actual effort in doing so, while also maintaining the balance of an entire fucking world and being literally the biggest “advisor” And “Mentor” For society, OH! And also building and managing a literal city, but along the way struggling to make time for his children. 
Guess what, they’re not. And if you think they are. You are an idiot, with bias and headcanons.
So the conclusion is, Aang is a flawed parent, but he isn't a "bad" Parent - confirmed by the literal writers.
Comparing him to Ozai a literal dictator, is absolutely sickening, just for your petty shipping discourse when this show's been over for a decade is insane. Indulge in what you enjoy, but stop projecting delusions like they're canon.
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:D
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wondercircuit · 24 days
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lance and the ferrari driver academy: a brief timeline
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this covers lance getting scouted into ferrari, his junior career at prema, and the surrounding connections he's had from his fda days that were pretty notable for his development up to his f1 debut in williams. i wrote this as personal reference for myself at first a while ago while writing something else, thus the added subjective commentary in a few bits, but if anyone is interested and can count some of this as useful information for his ferrari-related lore, then great. feel free to tell me if anything is inaccurate!
2008 - 2009: lance jacob strulovitch started competing in canadian karting was winning canadian national karting championships before this, such as the coupe de montreal and coupe du quebec micro max championship in 2008 and 2009. he placed 6th in a world finals at lonato, italy in the mini roc category and in addition, he was winning championships in florida karting competitions. racing coach and karting champion mike wilson tutored lance and mentioned that lance was born with that “killing instinct, and was surprised at the determination he had as a child to fight the back of a pack," comparing this attitude to a young fernando alonso, (who mike had also mentored (interview source ; you can read a brief version without paywall here).
2010: lance was scouted by ferrari at 11 years old, the youngest person signed to an f1 development programme at the time. luca baldisserri, ferrari’s chief track engineer and former engineer to michael schumacher was running the academy as director. lance was allegedly said to be an experiment for the fda to see if they can mold potential into developing an f1 driver from a young age.
baldisserri said the programme to nurture and shape kids with potential was never originally a part of the culture of ferrari and said it was a shot in the dark, knowing how young lance was. it was mentioned as well that mclaren offered lance a spot for their development programme, but lance chose ferrari's offer:
"Though Lance was eager to accept, his parents were reluctant. He was still a boy, and this was a major commitment. "I wanted Lance to digest it," [Lawrence] Stroll says. "With the time and money Ferrari is spending, you've really got to know you want to do this." But Ferrari wasn't the only one interested. Within days, Ferrari's bitter F1 rival, McLaren, heard what transpired in Florida and lobbed in a competing offer. After mulling his options, Lance chose Ferrari, and a few months later, boarded a plane for his first training session at the academy."
— The grooming of Canada's next Formula One driver, The Globe and Mail, 2011.
lawrence initially thought that the scout's offer for lance to join the fda was fake and a scam: "[Lawrence] Stroll didn't believe it. This man was a con artist, a fraud. He was incensed. "I told him, you're full of [expletive] this isn't true," the father recalls. It took a phone call from Italy later that afternoon to change his mind." the article also goes through the sort of training ferrari started him out with and talks about how luca gave lance the token red racing suit when he joined, but lance preferred to stick to not wearing the color, which i think is interesting:
"With the eyes of the racing world upon him, Lance is now trying to keep a low profile. When Ferrari welcomed Lance to its team, Baldisserri presented him with the rarest of gifts: a bright red Ferrari racing suit, just like the one Villeneuve wore. It is the most famous uniform in racing. But Lance told Ferrari it's probably better if he doesn't wear it. "It's like having a bull's-eye on my back," he explains. "The other kids are going to be saying: 'He's a Ferrari driver – go and get him.' " Baldisserri agreed. Everyone is chasing Lance Stroll. So on race day, the famous red suit stays at home and he zips himself into an anonymous blue-and-white uniform."
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lance wearing the chiesa corse overalls with the tiny ferrari logo
in the same year, lance participated in a 'friendly' staff karting event at montreal where he's karted with fernando and felipe massa.
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(L), lance in 2010 at a staff kart race organised by ferrari in montreal. lance scored p2 in this race behind fernando | (R), fernando and felipe massa who got p3, pictured with lance at the kart race
the ferrari driver academy was very newly established--aside from lance, the programme had checo perez and jules bianchi, who were in sauber and manor, the one other team using ferrari's engine respectively in f1 at the time.
2011 - 2014: lance continued to compete in karting and won the SKUSA supernationals in 2012. throughout this, he continued to train with ferrari. by now the fda had gained a total of 5 members with brandon maisano (who would then go on to be lance's teammate in prema) and rafael marciello added to their roster. jules was the eldest out of the five at 23 years old, while lance had been the youngest at 13.
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(L) lance pictured with a few fellow fda members and ferrari drivers of different categories, including (R) giancarlo fisichella and fernando on ferrari's passion day event (essentially an exclusive event shared with fans at mugello) (2012)
one of the trainers at the fda, andrea ferrari (i'm so serious, his last name is literally ferrari) talked about how the five academy drivers had unique training sessions specific to their ages and classes. he's mentioned how he occasionally gets to work with the "senior" driver team aka fernando and massa and the time he spends with them and fernando's physio helps him construct the training plans: "The opportunities of dealing with Alonso and Massa are occasional but significant, according to his accounts. “When Fernando comes to Maranello he has some training sessions with us. We often go for a bike ride in a group of 5-6 people and, needless to say, Fernando always wants to win”, Andrea states. “In addition, I’ve to say he’s a very sociable person. He creates a very friendly environment when we go out for a dinner or five-a-side matches among Ferrari staff members" — (source) fernando has mentioned training at the strolls' home in mont-tremblant, canada after the 2014 canadian grand prix — (source). in the same year, prema released a fun short little interview of lance in f4 where he mentions that his favorite driver is fernando. (even aston martin's team principal mike krack has acknowledged that their meeting in ferrari and the strolls maintaining that connection with fernando since then was an important catalyst to their present time at aston.)
lance debuted in single-seater racing in that year's florida winter series, which was not a championship series, but was organised by the fda. max and nicholas latifi also participated in this series (here is a comprehensive post on lance in the 2014 florida winter series that @lil-shiro kindly put together). lance competed in the italian f4 championship and took 13 podium finishes with prema racing, thus winning the champion title that year.
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lance at the podium in 2014, adria, italian f4
2015: lance competes and wins in the 2015 toyota racing series in new zealand in the winter, which consisted of 5 rounds. he competes in f3 europe and ended 5th in the standings for his first f3 season. it was around this year where there were rumours of the fda discontinuing; for context of the situation, luca baldisserri was stepping down from his director's role at the academy, checo left when he signed on to mclaren in 2013. lance also left the fda to sign on to the williams driver development programme in november that year with the aim of getting to work closer with an f1 team. lance described ferrari's training programme to be 'basic' and he was looking for more intensive sim work and actual testing for f1 cars, which the williams' junior programme offered.
on the topic of who else was leaving ferrari, felipe massa was in williams by 2014, and fernando in mclaren in 2015. the strolls still continued to visit fernando in f1 races here and there to show their support:
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(L) lance and fernando at the monaco gp, 2015, and lawrence with fernando at the canadian gp, 2015
2016: by now, it was known that luca moved on to race-engineering for lance and working with him directly throughout his f3 euro season that year. luca also had a hand in prema racing's dominance for the respective gp2 and f3 euro categories where he acted as a consultant for the prema junior development team and helped manage structures there, which looked to be a testament of how effective luca was in nurturing and managing young talent, despite having left the fda which he himself had allegedly 'masterminded'. luca was also overseeing mick schumacher's development. there wasn't other known reasons as to why luca stepped down from the fda other than the sources i found implying that the decision was supposedly, or at least partly influenced, by lance choosing to leave ferrari. luca then continued to help oversee lance's development himself even when he signed on to williams junior programme. lance talked about luca a bit here in an autosport article:
"It's extremely important to have him with us and it's great that he will continue working with us. "He's been with me since a very young age, when he chose me to come on the Ferrari programme. "He's very good at watching what's going on between the team and the driver - he's quiet when he has to be, but when it's time to speak up he says some very good things."
— source, Autosport, 2015
it makes sense to want to fully continue seeing through a young kid's development to successfully graduate them into f1 despite it being with a different team. the fda was a new programme, and in comparison to other teams' driver academies eg. williams, mclaren's, red bull junior's programme etc, ferrari doesn't promote rookies directly to their f1 seat, assigning them instead to sauber or haas first before offering opportunities. lance also mentions how he knew it was pretty unlikely that ferrari would let a driver with less experience into the team. i think this says things about ferrari's culture, at least in comparison to the other teams that are more willing to put rookies in their seat (this is constantly debated by fans and pundits across the sport to be extremely pressurizing for young talent but i do feel that you have to also question the alternative that seems to be ferrari's methods. again, all this is highly dependent on other factors as well involving a single driver's experiences and their individual junior trajectory so ultimately, the debate to whether or not a young driver is 'ready' for f1 before they're even actually there is personally moot to me. but alas, i do find it vaguely interesting......)
i'm only focusing on lance's development here so i can't say much on the fda now except for an added anecdote that charles leclerc is currently the only graduate so far to be promoted to the ferrari seat after the obligatory sauber stint for his rookie year. again, solely speaking from a point of comparison to other driver programme's success rates on getting their talent into their f1 team, it makes the fda's effectiveness look a little bit questionable.
anyway, here's more of what lance said on his switch to williams:
“I feel like we can be closer right now with Williams, and I’m working with them rather than just being part of a training camp like at Ferrari. For the future, it’s the right move.” And Stroll also feels Ferrari is unlikely to promote a rookie driver into one of its race seats, while Williams has a proven track record with the likes of Valtteri Bottas, Nico Rosberg and Jenson Button. "Williams has a great history of believing in young drivers, they’ve given many rookie drivers a chance in Formula 1. That was important for us, because Ferrari has a different approach; they tend to take more veteran drivers to fight for the championship."
— source, f1i.com (2016)
[Question] Tell me about your role with Williams… [Lance:] "It’s been a great eight months with them. It’s been fantastic. The cooperation with me in F3 is great, they have the right understanding of me focusing 100 percent on F3 and not getting distracted with Formula 1. They just want me to finish the championship, they’re not pressuring me to jump in an F1 car and doing testing and things like that. They want me to focus on one thing at a time, and that’s great."
[Question] If the opportunity to jump into a Formula 1 race seat in 2017 came up, do you feel you’ll be ready? [Lance:] I do… but it’s easy to say it. I haven’t driven an F1 car yet, so I don’t have a complete understanding of what it’s like. Once I have a couple of tests under my belt, a bit more experience, then I’ll have a much better idea of if I’m ready to make that step just yet or not. At the moment I’m blind in terms of F1. I’ve driven F3, I’ve driven a couple of other categories, but I’ve never really sat in an F1 car. So I don’t know how much different it is to what I’m doing now, how much more complicated it is, how much tougher it is. They are all things I’ll figure out along the road. But if… if it is just another step, and if I’m comfortable in the car, then why not? F3 is a very high level, we’ve seen guys like Max – and I don’t want to use him as the example every time because maybe he’s an exception – but even guys like Ocon, Rosenqvist, these are guys that could do it as well."
— source, Motorsport, 2016
the headline for the motorsport excerpt above is extremely misleading but i think the interview shows pretty good insight to lance's attitude towards his own development and how he's got a good head on his shoulders with self-awareness of his own capabilities, despite having had more opportunities and the financial advantage that motorsports typically needs. he also talks about his former prema teammates felix rosenqvist (currently in indycar) and jake dennis (currently competing in formula e) and how instrumental they were to him in learning about his race craft during his first year in f3. here is a clip on lance back in prema talking about his teammates feat. esteban and lance's long-time driver coach nuno pinto.
at the end of his race season, lance won the f3 euro championship in 2016, the first north-american who's won in the category.
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lance celebrating his championship win for f3 euro in 2016.
2017: lance accumulated enough points by then to get a super licence for f1 (which allowed him to skip f2, like max did). this makes lance the second-youngest driver to debut in f1 at 18 years old. while lance isn't tied to ferrari anymore, luca baldisserri continued to be his race engineer for lance at williams to keep seeing through lance's development in his rookie and sophomore years.
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lance with luca on the paddock and garages (2017)
overall, the 2017 williams had a decent car (they were 5th in the wcc that year) and lance managed to score his first points at his home race. he also became the second-youngest to win a podium in f1:
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lance's first podium at baku, 2017.
that's it! the rest is truly history ♡
if you're interested, here is an external post off tumblr that briefly and neatly goes through lance's f1 career including his racing strengths, driving style and teammate relationships up to the present, written by @strulovic and linked with her permission. i'm sharing it here just because i've found it to be personally useful myself as a starting point when i went down the rabbit hole of digging up research of his fda days.
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