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#this isn't the first time i've used this program
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Polygonal MS pain program or whatever, sorry for not posting for a while, my fellow peepers.
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She's my OC Cathy, she has a kittygram and works as a cashier in McDod. Cathy is very exhausted and desensitized to the chaos of the home computer which is currently hanging by a thread after a malware invasion. Working in McDod nearly kills her at least twice on a weekly basis, so it's no surprise that she wants to find a new job, but she can't find a suitable one for her.
I didn't draw her glasses bc it's to hard to do in MS paint. I also have more Databrawl OCs, and this is what she currently looks like because she got hospitalized again:
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... oh that's a lot of ideas on handling the Starchild/AI 👀
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darantha · 1 year
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How to Spot AI images (Hopefully)
So, I did see GailyNovelry's excellent post on this (Link here), but saw that there also were some confusion and they were using a environment image as their example, so I thought I'd do a breakdown that was more character centric.
The key thing with AI images is that the program does not know what it is making. And, arguably, they thrive on that we are currently conditioned to not really look at things for too long before we hit that engagement button and/or just scroll onwards to whatever next the algorithm feeds us.
It's hard to fight that urge, I know, but if you just pause and look, you'll soon start spotting things that just do not make sense, and I don't just mean that the pretty booby elven fighter is sporting seven fingers on one hand. Those are the obvious things. I'll try to cover the general sort of artefacts that tend to tip me off to the fact that a image is generated rather than actually hand-made by someone making informed design decisions as opposed to trust what amounts to RNG. I think this is important as there's those who do not tag their images as AI generated, and try to scam people with commissions.
And, as the saying goes... The devil is in the details.
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To start with I picked this image from deviantuser CeiEllem. At first glance, it looks... very impressive. Sharp looking elf lady with killer hair. 10/10 wish I could rock that haircolour.
But, it is AI generated. Aside from the general tell that is this hyper rendered, near photorealistic style that AI images often have, there's a lot of details that tips it off to just not having been made by a human who actually made the decisions.
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Since AI is just working off patterns and not actual decisions, things like hair is a immediate giveaway that you're looking at a AI image.
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(Deviantart users: daralyth, DavidZarn and lunayokai)
In all these three images you can see just how hair whisps off into weird nonsense shapes or even meld into the background or clothing. Because, again, the AI doesn't know what its doing, just working with shapes. Similarly, background elements that just stop and start randomly is a dead giveaway, like the tail in the first image.
As I've said, details is the key to spotting these images, and another giveaway is the sheer density of details that is just noise.
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This is from users Rigtorok7, and the details are so noisy, absolutely miniscule in scale, and hypersharp, yet have no actual design to them. Artists imply details all the time. We don't render out every single nook and crevice, and since we actually know what we want the viewer to look at, we'll pull back and simplify things so you don't want to look at the big chunk of very noisy hair ornament or necklace instead of the face of the character.
For comparison, this is how it looks when I, personally, indulge in doing 'overdetailing' of something (because I am forever weak for painting jewelry).
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BUT I want to stress that the key here isn't that detailing equals AI generated. The key is the lack of design choices IN the details. There's a lot of artists out there, and someone painting out all those nooks and crannies in something doesn't mean they are a AI user. This painting by Leighton is super detailed but you see the intent with all the details. You have a focus with the people in the boat and secondary read of the figure in the door, where the details are a lot more implied and less sharp.
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AI can't do that, because AI isn't making any decisions.
I couldn't find any good example once I went looking, but if you're into fantasy art: look for people just holding weird 'swords'.
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AI is rapidly evolving, so who knows how much this'll help in 3 months, but for now, this is how I spot things.
But, in the end, the biggest giveaway that someone is using an AI generator is that they've filled up page after page on deviantart/artstation/wherever in the past like... six to nine months, and often swing between wildly different styles. If you're unsure, look up the source of a image. Another clue can be generic 'untitled' or just 'elf lady' sort of titles, since someone uploading 30 images a week isn't going to make unique titles for each image.
Also, commissioners. ... you should ALWAYS get a sketch and progress image from a artist that you hire. My art directors would have my head on a plate if I didn't send them a rough sketch and progress shot before finalising the image.
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machine-saint · 9 months
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the op of that "you should restart your computer every few days" post blocked me so i'm going to perform the full hater move of writing my own post to explain why he's wrong
why should you listen to me: took operating system design and a "how to go from transistors to a pipelined CPU" class in college, i have several servers (one physical, four virtual) that i maintain, i use nixos which is the linux distribution for people who are even bigger fucking nerds about computers than the typical linux user. i also ran this past the other people i know that are similarly tech competent and they also agreed OP is wrong (haven't run this post by them but nothing i say here is controversial).
anyway the tl;dr here is:
you don't need to shut down or restart your computer unless something is wrong or you need to install updates
i think this misconception that restarting is necessary comes from the fact that restarting often fixes problems, and so people think that the problems are because of the not restarting. this is, generally, not true. in most cases there's some specific program (or part of the operating system) that's gotten into a bad state, and restarting that one program would fix it. but restarting is easier since you don't have to identify specifically what's gone wrong. the most common problem i can think of that wouldn't fall under this category is your graphics card drivers fucking up; that's not something you can easily reinitialize without restarting the entire OS.
this isn't saying that restarting is a bad step; if you don't want to bother trying to figure out the problem, it's not a bad first go. personally, if something goes wrong i like to try to solve it without a restart, but i also know way, way more about computers than most people.
as more evidence to point to this, i would point out that servers are typically not restarted unless there's a specific need. this is not because they run special operating systems or have special parts; people can and do run servers using commodity consumer hardware, and while linux is much more common in the server world, it doesn't have any special features to make it more capable of long operation. my server with the longest uptime is 9 months, and i'd have one with even more uptime than that if i hadn't fucked it up so bad two months ago i had to restore from a full disk backup. the laptop i'm typing this on has about a month of uptime (including time spent in sleep mode). i've had servers with uptimes measuring in years.
there's also a lot of people that think that the parts being at an elevated temperature just from running is harmful. this is also, in general, not true. i'd be worried about running it at 100% full blast CPU/GPU for months on end, but nobody reading this post is doing that.
the other reason i see a lot is energy use. the typical energy use of a computer not doing anything is like... 20-30 watts. this is about two or three lightbulbs worth. that's not nothing, but it's not a lot to be concerned over. in terms of monetary cost, that's maybe $10 on your power bill. if it's in sleep mode it's even less, and if it's in full-blown hibernation mode it's literally zero.
there are also people in the replies to that post giving reasons. all of them are false.
temporary files generally don't use enough disk space to be worth worrying about
programs that leak memory return it all to the OS when they're closed, so it's enough to just close the program itself. and the OS generally doesn't leak memory.
'clearing your RAM' is not a thing you need to do. neither is resetting your registry values.
your computer can absolutely use disk space from deleted files without a restart. i've taken a server that was almost completely full, deleted a bunch of unnecessary files, and it continued fine without a restart.
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cy-cyborg · 10 months
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Tips for Writing and Drawing Amputees: Bandaged Stumps
When writing and drawing amputee characters, unless your character only just lost their limb, they don't need to wear a bandage over their stumps.
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to be clear, eda's depiction in the show was fine, since she'd only just lost her arm and went (presumably) without any medical attention, but because the show didn't have much time to show her afterwards, I've noticed a tendency of the fandom to draw her wearing the bandage permanently, so that's why I'm picking on her for my example lol.
It's a bit of a trope at this point, and I think it comes from one of a few different places:
Amputees do wear bandages on their stumps, but usually only for the first 6-12 weeks post-amputation, sometimes longer if the amputation was a result of a burn. It's possible people saw this though and assumed it was permanent.
Most amputees wear a sock made of either cotton or silicone under their prosthetics to provide them with some extra padding. These socks, called liners, often stick out from the top of the prosthetic socket and could possibly be mistaken for a bandage from a distance.
Some amputees will wear compression garments for a few months to a few years after their amputations which could also be mistaken for a bandage from a distance. These garments are designed to stop swelling and reduce phantom pain, but they aren't bandages.
Stumps get cold easier because their circulation typically isn't as good as the rest of the body, so some amputees will wear socks over them even if they aren't wearing a prosthetic to keep warm, which again could be mistaken for a bandage from a distance.
This one is funny, but in my experience unfortunately, it's the most common: people think the end of an amputee's stump is just a perpetual open wound that never heals. Meaning to avoid "gore" it needs to be covered. I've met fully grown adults who believed this until I showed up to work/uni without my prosthetics or socks on.
People are uncomfortable with seeing an uncovered stump and so put bandages over it to avoid confronting their biases.
Some combination of these points.
But yeah, unless your amputee has only just lost their limb in the last few weeks, they don't need a bandage.
The ironic thing too, is that for most amputees, bandaging a stump is nearly impossible. I've been in and out of hospital since I was 1 year old and only ever met 3 nurses and no doctors/surgeons who could successfully bandage my stump in a way that the bandage would even stay on. This is because stumps are usually tapered in shape (meaning they are wider at the top, closer to the body, and thinner at the bottom), so gravity will pull the bandage off 9 times out of 10.
On a final note: it's ok to show your amputee's stump, it's not gore, there's no blood, it just looks like a regular limb that just stops early. In fact, if you are writing/creating anything for kids or that is likely to be seen by kids, I encourage you to show your amputee's stumps at least once. I used to work on a disability awareness program for kids, and I lost count of the amount of times kids were terrified of me, because they all expected my leg to be bloody and gory. For a lot of kids, I was their first real-life exposure to an amputee, meaning they'd never even heard of people like me, or they had seen an amputee on TV, but because the show went out of its way to avoid showing the person's stump, they assumed it must have been because there was "something scary at the end" that they weren't supposed to see (kids are surprisingly perceptive, they will pick up on stuff like that without you realising). And scared kids aren't good at articulating why they're scared, and would often say really mean or hurtful things to me. I knew not to take it personally and learned how to handle those situations, but not everyone is used to dealing with kids. For a new amputee (or anyone who's less confident in their disability), the kinds of things those kids would say could be absolutely confidence destroying. I never blame the kids, it's not their fault, but the whole situation could have been avoided if they had seen people like us before they had the chance to hear the wrong info. Good representation like this can be the difference between a kid crying, making throw-up sounds and calling an amputee "disgusting monsters" (all things I've had kids do/say) and them just being like "oh ok, cool."
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takaraphoenix · 1 month
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I'm going to sound very old and very tired here for a second, but it is so dystopian to me to have ads on my computer.
Ads used to be on the internet. And that's that. The things that were installed on my computer did not show me ads.
And that goes even beyond the questionable practice that free versions of programs such as Avira now show you lil ads in the corner of your screen like once a day.
You used to have free games on your computer.
I was in the mood to play a game again, a very rare mood for me, and I opened the game center for the... first time since I had this version of Windows (as I said; very rare mood).
And there's ads. You play the "free" games that live on your computer and there are ads left and right and beneath it and between levels there is just a 20 second ad break.
You can go premium to no longer have ads.
That's dystopian to me.
When things that used to be fully free and just part of something are now riddled with ads and to get the ad free experience that, again, used to just be the experience, you have to pay.
And it's not even a one-time-payment.
Back in the day, you used to pay for something and then you owned it. You used to pay for a program or a game, and you owned a physical CD that you put in your computer to install the thing and it was just yours. It belonged to you, because you paid for it.
Now everything is a per month subscription, which is just so sinister because many look like oh, that's not that much money! Sure, I'll pay 1,99€/month to play games ad free. Every single month sums up, and it sums to a lot over the years though, for something that used to be free. (And I've complained about subscriptions before, in the context of Adobe, which isn't just dystopian anymore, it's actually plain evil to demand 25,99€/month to use a singular program, that you can now no longer buy to actually own.)
And I know - I know - you can find free games online to download or play in browser (already did that for mahjong) - but I'm talking about the principle here. The principle of getting ads on your computer, directly, and to have to pay to no longer have ads and use something that had been a part of the Windows experience since... forever.
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heck-theo · 16 days
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TMayNT Day 14: Favourite turtle movie.
The Rise one :P
Ok SO I disappeared because when I saw this prompt I wanted to finish this. Now to try and catch up, or at least continue TMayNT. If anyone would like to guess at themes and motifs I'd love to hear it because I remember putting a lot of thought into the initial concept ^^
More info about the creation of the video below:
So a lot of this isn't up to my personal standards BUT I'm proud of it because: I have started dozens of projects like this and almost never finished any. I am fighting my perfectionism and sporadic ADHD motivation. I believe I conceptualised this at the end of 2022 or early 2023 and reanimated/redrew the storyboard at least 3 times over the first half of 2023 before it was abandoned. Until now. Also I've never had a "camera" to play with before so I'm very inexperience with that.
It's a bit inconsistent: 1. because it was partially an experiment using Moho. It was my first time properly using it and I definitely need to look at some tutorials because I' strong armed it and made things a lot harder than I'm pretty sure I am not making the most of the features lol. Its also a vector program, which I'm not used to. 2. because I redrew the storyboard multiple times (and kept various aspects of it for the final ver) and then redrew it a final time after like a year.
So I credited those artists for popularising the meme but I actually have no idea where specifically I got the idea. I do not remember referencing any other "Is It Cold Outside" memes. I'm like 99% sure I sat down and wrote out a plan/script in word but it's possible I was inspired by or referenced someone specific and don't remember, so if anything is ringing any familiar bells please let me know.
I can't find the original sped up audio used in these memes but I believe this was the original original: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KorGLK9VXcU (If anyone can tell me more info about the audio used in this meme, let me know). Storyboarded on Clip Studio, animated on Moho, minor editing on Kdenlive.
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guwix · 24 days
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Is Caine human or is it AI?
I've seen people bring up this topic more than once. Also, Gooseworx replied to people that Caine is AI. Therefore, I want to sort everything out on the shelf, what we currently have.
Pilot
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Caine was demonstrated to us with human emotions, which is completely indistinguishable from the NPCs themselves (Candy Carrier Chaos!). And if we take the real existing facts about AI, it is because AI does not know how to: feel, experience emotions, understand the meaning of text and images, be aware of itself.
Let's take the same Moon, Sun and of course Bobble.
They have a completely different level compared to Caine.
Even if he created them, if he cannot understand the empathy of people, then why does it make it difficult to understand other characters "created by him". For example, Bobble, he doesn't understand his actions.
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AI has many advantages, but Caine has absolutely NO control over the situation, despite the fact that he is the "creator". Why would he need a "Watch" if all the information should be in his mind?
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At the same time, he tells us himself that he has many eyes, but at the same time, he was not aware of what happened to Kaufmo.
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I understand that the animated series is far from real life. But, in fact, AI cannot be insane. Also, Caine cannot emotionally feel "lonely". And all this tells us the opposite, that it is completely different from AI.
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If the director of "C&A" creates AI to help order in the Digital World, shouldn't the company come up with a name for the "administrator" itself? And according to Gooseworx, Caine came up with a name for himself.
It turns out that people "allowed" AI to run amok in the Digital World without fear of consequences? Strangely, Caine should have restrictions, but it looks exactly as if he is completely free.
It is not the first time that the creator answers us that Caine is not a person and he does not have the age given to him. But, isn't the fans' question a strong spoiler for the plot? If we were told "You'll have to wait and see", that would raise quite a few questions. That is, it would immediately be clear what Caine is like.
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You can also recall a video where a human body is transferred to a computer. Whether this was done for the sake of the fan, or intentionally, we have only to guess.
And one person had the most interesting question. Whether he is the boss, which we were told, we will have to wait and see. If Caine is an AI, then he cannot be the boss, we would have been told that he is another AI.
2:Candy Carrier Chaos!
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As an AI, he is "obliged" to know who is an NPC and who is a "human". Everything must be programmed for him. But, he doesn't know how to "distinguish" them.
Whether the situation is worth turning against him, he immediately avoids it. Although, he is not forced to run away, because for AI, he must be smart enough to come up with a sedative. But, Caine just comes up with an excuse that he needs to "drink some water." Genius.
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Since NPCs do not realize that they are characters of the computer world, they think that they are alive. If Caine is also presented as a God (and God is so-so with him), then what is the probability that Caine will think that he is an AI, for the entertainment of people? After all, the main characters do not remember everything from their current life (they only partially have upbringing).
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nkjemisin · 1 month
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Hey there. I'm writing a story set in New York City and am not American. I have few characters, but most of them are arab or white. I can't help but feel a bit wrong about it, given that America is much more diverse than that, and NYC being an emblem of that. Do you think I should force myself to include more representation or should I just tell my story, and leave that more diverse cast to some other story I could write? I know this is a neverending debate and there are many opinions about it, but I've always agreed with everything you've said in matters of representation in fiction, and so I'd be curious to know your personal answer on it.
I'm a little confused by how you're using "representation," here. It sounds like you think representation = "randomly sticking BIPOC everywhere." I think when most people use that word, it means something more like "create an accurate or at least plausible depiction of a group or place." In actual New York, there are plenty of Middle Easterners and white people who live in relatively homogeneous small communities where they might only see someone of a different ethnicity on the subway. If your story is set in one of those communities -- and you do stick some random BIPOC in that subway scene, because that's plausible -- then it sounds like your characters might be an example of good representation.
(Note: if you're not writing something set in the real world, but it features human beings, it needs to represent humanity as a whole, unless there's a good in-world reason not to. But if it's our world? You can get specific.)
Here's the catch, tho: plausibility is relative. If you've absorbed some biases and haven't done enough research, then you might end up writing something that feels plausible to you, but which isn't actually representative or plausible to anyone else. The way to avoid this is to do the research and check (to the best of your ability) your biases. For example, you aren't American, I assume you've at least visited NYC? If not, you should. You can visit some of the communities I mentioned! You can eat in restaurants, visit mosques, have conversations with actual real people who are living the life you're writing about! If you don't have the time, money, or spoons to do that, there are other ways to do good research -- films and YT/Tiktok videos made by people from the communities in question, for example. But you'd need to watch a lot of them to get a good representative sample.
I recommend this book to all the writing students I've taught at Clarion, and other writer workshops: Writing the Other, by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward. There's a particular part of it that seems relevant here, which is a kind of hierarchy of "appropriate" appropriation, I think first mentioned by Diantha Day Sprouse but included in Writing the Other. Basically it says that if you want to write about a culture that isn't your own, you can learn about that culture in one of several ways: a) You can be an Invader, and just go take whatever intellectual and artistic tidbits from that culture that you want, regardless of how damaging this might be to members of that group. Example: non-Indigenous people who write about actual secret practices, or who encourage the desecration of sacred places. b) You can be a Tourist, in which you're still mooching from that culture, but at least you're figuratively paying someone for it and accepting tidbits that the culture has chosen to sell. Example: getting a sensitivity reader. Or c) you can be an Invited Guest, who brings in as much as they take out, and who has formed relationships that are beneficial to all involved. Example: being part of an exchange program, both as a student and later as a host, and maintaining those friendships outside of the program.
The goal is to be an IG, but that isn't always possible. Tourist is still better than being an Invader. (...I feel like I'm leaving out a category. It's been a while since I read the book; any more recent readers want to check me here?) But the closer you can get to actually participating in that culture, the more your work will be informed by reality instead of biases or misinformation, and the more likely your work will read as plausible not just to you, but to your widest possible audience -- people familiar with the culture and people who aren't.
(I'm a little concerned about your phrasing of "force myself to include more representation," note. Why would that need to be a forced thing? A writer's goal should be to write something that feels lived-in and authentic to [if it's a real place] most people's experience -- not to meet some arbitrary standard, but because that's how you master immersion and characterization. If good immersion and characterization feel forced to you right now, that suggests you need more practice. I recommend writing short stories!)
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otdiaftg · 3 months
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The King's Men - Chapter Fourteen
Day: Saturday, March 9th / 10th* Time: 3:55 PM EST
Nathaniel's heart skips a beat. The heat that gnaws at his chest is an ugly mix of gratitude and shame. He tries to speak but has to clear his throat before trying again. "But why? I've done nothing but lie to them. I willingly put them all in danger so I could play a little longer. They got hurt last night because of me. Why would they protect me now?" "You are a Fox," Andrew says, like it is that simple, and maybe it is. Nathaniel drops his eyes and works his jaw, fighting for a center he is quickly losing hold of. He barely recognizes his own voice when he says, "Andrew, they want to take me away from here. They want to enroll me in the Witness Protection Program so my father's people can't find me. I don't want—" he starts, but that isn't fair. "If you tell me to leave, I'll go." He doesn't say it will kill him, but he doesn't have to. Andrew hooks his fingers in the collar of Nathaniel's sweatshirt and tugs just enough for him to feel it. For a moment Nathaniel is months away from this moment, standing in the darkened front hall of Andrew's house for the first time with a warm key digging into his palm. It feels like coming home, and it is enough to take the edge off his fear. "You aren't going anywhere," Andrew says: the same words, the same promise. He is speaking in English again, and Nathaniel understands why when he hears Andrew's next words. Andrew is playing instigator and inviting the Foxes to the fight. "You're staying with us. If they try to take you away they will lose." "Take you away," Dan echoes. "To where?" "Are we talking about 'away for some questioning' or 'away for good'?" Matt demands. "Both," Browning says. "You can't have him," Nicky says. "He belongs with us." "When people find out he is still alive they will come for him," Browning says. "It is not safe for him here anymore, and it sure as hell isn't safe for you. It is better for everyone if he disappears." They understand better than he ever would, since Kevin has already told them of the Wesninski-Moriyama alliance. They'd been dealing with Riko's madness for a year now thanks to Kevin, and they look wholly unimpressed by Browning's warnings. "What part of 'go to hell' do you need us to explain to you?" Allison asks. "We're all legal adults here," Matt adds. "We've made our decision. Unless he wants to stay with you, you'd better bring Neil back to us when you're done with all your questions." "'Neil' isn't a real person," Browning says, fed up with their willful ignorance. "It's just a cover that let Nathaniel evade authorities. It's past time to let him go." "Neil or Nathaniel or whoever," Nicky says. "He's ours, and we're not letting him go. You want us to vote on it or something? Bet you it'll be unanimous."
Art used with permission by Kurra. Thank you @kurra!
*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.
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vitzi9 · 1 year
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Pretty when you cry
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Ethan Landry x GN!Reader
Masterlist if you want to read my other things.
content warning: manipulative ethan; stalking; obsessive; maybe sub!Ethan; mention of murder; he's still ghostface; guilt trapping; worshiping; knife
English is not my first language sorry guys, if i did any grammatical mistakes lmk !
2924 words (7/05/2023)
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"Hi" he said simply. As if we were speaking to each other for the first time, but in the same tone with which one greets an old friend. It was ironic how I wished for weeks for him to come and talk to me and when he finally did, all I thought about was running away. He hadn't changed. And so much the better. He was still so handsome. Today, he wore a white shirt and a kind of jeans in a shade between dark gray and black. After taking a brief tour of his outfit, I look up at his face: the most beautiful part of his person. His frizzy curls looked fresh, as if he had just washed them. This thought was confirmed by the smell of shampoo that came to me on a light breeze. His cheeks were tinged with a pale pink that highlighted the small and discreet freckles that sported his cheeks. His gaze escaped mine, watching the floor with a strange and sudden interest as he pressed his lips together in a thin line. He was embarrassed, no, dead of shame. After all, I still hadn't answered him. I've only watched him so far. And I surely would have continued if I hadn't noticed his shaking hands.
What am I supposed to say to him? I greet him too, I compliment him? I ask him directly why he came to talk to me? After all, the only times we had spoken was to get him to tutor me. Are we even friends? After he stood me up without any explanation, approximately two weeks ago now, we haven't spoken to each other since.
“Hi” I simply replied. Ethan scratches his cheek as he smiles nervously at me, his gaze flicking briefly above me to look behind me. The redness on his cheeks getting worse.
“You uh… Your classes, how are you doing ? I… Like, you're good ?”
To be honest, it wasn't. Which is the main reason as to why I was asking him for lessons, by the way. So he knows all about those four out of twenty that I love so much. (Wrong, I hate them, I just don't have the IQ to have more) How handsome he was. Earlier this year, I had this fantasy where Ethan, who I hadn't spoken to at the time, came up to me and asked me out. Later, having learned about his shyness, I dreamed of seeing him overcome his bashfulness to come and declare his love for me while stuttering.
"I manage. And you ? Are you able to follow the program?
Of course he did. We are talking about Ethan Landry, the best student in the whole establishment. He succeeds in everything. Except talking to people, it seems. For the umpteenth time now, he glances over my shoulder. His eyes alternated with bewildering speed between my face and what was behind my back. Finally, I turn to see the only person in the hallway besides us, Chad, watching us with a big smile on his face and thumbs up. He lowers his arms the second my eyes notice him and he puts his hands in his pockets, pretending to turn around.
"Isn't that Chad?" I knew it was him, Ethan's best friend. But I just wanted confirmation.
-N-no aha, it’s… I don’t know who… It’s not Chad.” His laugh was forced and it showed. He was staring at the ceiling, shrugging and laughing nervously. Too smiley to be true. If he weren't already incredibly uncomfortable and flushed, his friend's intervention would have caused him to be.
"Why did you come talk to me Ethan?"
Our last discussion was two weeks ago. We had seen each other on Tuesday for my private lessons and it had gone incredibly well. He had scheduled a session for Thursday, of which I was counting every second until D-Day. I was smiling just reading our messages over and over again. Then Thursday arrived after an endless wait. I headed for the library, as usual. My smile glued to my lips, impossible to remove. I was on cloud nine. But Ethan was late, yet he had never been with me. I waited and waited and waited but after an hour and a half I left. He hadn't sent a message, nothing. Since then, not a word has been exchanged. In the hallways, not even a single look had been shared. We walked ignoring each other, like strangers.
"I'm sorry.
-For what ?"
I had some idea why he was sorry but I didn't want to get my hopes up. His eyes water, he opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Ethan extends his hand towards me which I grab by reflex. To be honest, he was starting to worry me. Was he really going to cry? Was it because of me?
“Ethan, are you okay? I forgive you if this is what bothers you so much but please don't put yourself in such a state. Do you want me to walk you home? I'll tell the teacher that you are not feeling well.” As I said that, I adopted the softest voice I could muster.
The curly man holds my hand, he intertwines our fingers together. His tears finally running down his cheeks. A few tears escape him.
“No… he almost sighs.
-'no' what ? I ask, worried.
-I'm not feeling well…"
My concern increases considerably. Forget him which stood me up. His state is much more worrying. Without really thinking about it, my hand rests on his shoulder. I start guiding him to the exit but he seems to realize it. He plants his feet on the ground, shakes his head, then grabs my hand resting on his shoulder.
Ethan was keeping me here.
He raises his angel eyes to me. He was so handsome. His pupils were glowing. The boy opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Frustrated, his tears seem to intensify. He lowers his head, his beautiful curls falling in front of his eyes that I love so much.
"Ethan, you can tell me anything."
I was hoping he would open up to me a bit more. We were close, certainly not like best friends, but I considered myself loyal enough not to snitch his problems to everybody. Plus, I wasn't lying. He could tell me anything, I will help him as best I can. Ethan runs his thumbs over the backs of my hands, a slight smile on his lips. For a second, he seemed at peace.
“My love… he whispers and I almost thought I was dreaming.
But this peace does not last
-What ?
"I..." His lips quivered.
Did he really call me 'my love'? My heart was beating wildly. He sniffles and tries to swallow back his tears, to no avail. Finally, Ethan snaps.
“I…I can't sleep anymore, I can't do it anymore! he exclaims between two cries. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face. I miss you, I want to continue to give you private lessons, even my homework if necessary. I'lldo them for you. Everything, I'll do everything for you…” he had spoken so quickly that he was out of breath. His tears had not stopped, quite the contrary. He had let go.
His sudden outbusrt make me retreat for a split second. The curly man's hands squeeze mine tightly, as if to keep me from moving further away. I don't understand, my absence has affected him so much? Why didn't he come talk to me sooner, then? And since when does he feel that way about me? His words were excessive and I thought he was going a little too fast. He was so desperate that he saw my face all the time? That he was willing to do 'everything' for me? I thought that my crush was not reciprocated, worse, than he considered me as a simple classmate. If I expected that! But where does this outburst come from?
“Breathe Ethan, breathe.”
Like a child, Ethan nods. He tried to calm his breathing while I tried to slow my heartbeat. I knew Ethan hadn't had a lot of conquests in his life, but I never would have imagined him to be so dependent.
"I'm sorry, really sorry...
-Why are you apologizing?
-I left you alone, I swear I haven't forgotten you. I've been thinking about you all the while i was doing it...
So he was really apologizing for that. But why is he making a fuss about it? I had already imagined this scenario and honestly, I expected an apology, a justification and that was it. Why was he so affected? That guilty? His words got mixed up and in the end, I lost track.
- It's okay Ethan, it's not that important. Is that what stresses you out so much?
- What can I do to make you forgive me?
-Ethan, I already told you, I forgive you, it doesn't matter.
-No, he shakes his head, tell me.
Feeling that if I didn't take matters into my own hands the situation was never going to end, I decided to ask for a simple favor.
-Where were you that day? I ask, alluding to the day he stood me up.
-That's stupid." Despite his words, I give a nod encouraging him to continue. Promise me not to be afraid.
-Why would I be afraid of you Ethan? I ask, laughing softly. He's an angel, how can you be afraid of him?
-Promise me."
His fingers gripped my wrist tightly. It almost hurt me. For a moment, the thought that indeed Ethan could scare me crossed my mind. However, I thought of it too late.
-I was supposed to be only ten minutes late, and I apologize for that, but you had to be outside your room for me to get in it.
-What ? I ask laughing, not understanding where he was coming from.
-When I got in your room, there was a perfume that was not yours. But I had already felt it somewhere, on someone. And… I-I'm sorry that pissed me off and… I-I thought you were cheating on me and I was scared and… I cried but I kept smelling the perfume of that-
-Ethan, stop here, I don't understand anything. What are you talking about? I was no longer laughing, the strange details he gave me seemed too precise.
His tears flow, without warning, he takes me in his arms and presses me to his chest. He hugged me tightly, I almost couldn't breathe. His face plunges into my neck, which he was soaking with his tears. He kept saying he was sorry over and over while I tried to understand. Was he telling the truth?
-I felt so guilty for hurting them that I didn't dare come and talk to you. I was terrified that you would run away from me when you eventually find out. It was horrible. Never again. Never part from me again, I beg you. I'll die of it.
I felt his every word knock against the skin of my neck. He was whispering, as if telling me a secret. And maybe it was. I was praying that another student would come down the hall and see us but the odds were low, very low. Ethan had cornered me at the end of my class, everyone had left. The sun was already falling asleep outside the window. Panic quickly set in within me.
-Ethan you're crushing me! I wasn't even sure he heard me since buried in his chest, my voice was muffled.
-I thought you were cheating on me b-but… I’m sorry for thinking that, sorry sorry sorry sorry...
What did he do ? Who was he talking about when he said “having hurt them”? Where is the shy Ethan who softened my heart? Unconsciously, I start to shake. My arms try to tear themselves away from the grip he had on them but he was crushing me too hard; I couldn't move. His arms clung to mine along my body.
-I should never be mad at you again, ever again. Do you forgive me ?
That's when it comes back to me; the framework. Coming home the evening of the day Ethan and I ended our relationship, my frame was splintered to the ground. The shards of glass had been flying all over my room. The photo remained intact; a picture of me and my roommate, but the frame was dead. I hadn't given more importance than that to the situation itself, my window was open and then said roommate was at home during the day. I just thought that a draft had knocked it down or that my friend was clumsy: it happens after all.
No, it was him.
-Ethan, I speak in a shaky voice, please let me go.
-No ! he yells. You promised me ! You promised me you wouldn't be afraid of me!
-E-Ethan please….
- I'm sorry, i'm sorry !
Ethan, six feet tall, collapses to his knees in front of me. He buries his face in my stomach, his arms wrapping around my waist. He speaks in my skin, muttering countless excuses and promises. Immediately seizing the opportunity, I grab him by the shoulders and push him with all my might to the ground. Surprised, he let me go. His back hits the floor, he lets out a plaintive moan mixed with his cries. Without thinking, I turn my back to flee. But Ethan is strangely fast. He gives me a powerful kick in the shin which in turn makes me fall on my stomach.
Ethan is crying. His cheeks are drowned in tears and red. I don't find him as handsome as before when he slightly pulls up his t-shirt to pull a knife out of his pants.
"Why are you doing this to me ?" he growled, his face lowered to the ground. So far, he's let it go. But there, his energy had changed. He was a murderer.
I crawl on the ground, moving away from him, my eyes filled with terror. I'm gonna die. I'm going to die here, alone, killed by the boy I loved. Ethan towered over me, taking small steps towards me.
“I'm begging you…” I cried.
I was desperate, there were no more solutions. I thought, as I disappeared, maybe Chad would figure out who my killer was, since he was the last one to see me other than Ethan.
"You told me you wouldn't be scared..." he pouted as he crouched down on top of me. Afterwards, his actions keep surprising me as he sits on my pelvis. He had fun bringing his knife to my neck and caressing me with it. The coldness of the metal makes my hair stand on and shivers appear all over my body.
"Ethan, please take that away from me... yelling at him wouldn't get me anywhere, so I was begging.
- No, don't be afraid. You know very well that I would never hurt you.”
His promises, I wanted no more. I wanted him to leave me alone, forever. My hands were free, yet I no longer controlled them. They were completely flat on the ground. I couldn't lift a single finger.
“Do you want me to prove my devotion to you? the curly boy points the knife at him.
The sharp tip of the weapon is now to his throat. Ethan looks at me and smiles. His free hand lay comfortably flat on my chest, holding me firmly to the floor. The vision unfolding in front of me was horrific. I was praying that he wouldn't be able to take his own life in front of me, on top of me! I didn't want to see it though, my eyes refused to look away. I was terrified that he would plunge his knife in me without warning.
- You love me too, right? he asks, stroking my cheek with his thumb. Tell me that you love me. You love me so much, my love. You love me so much you're ready to die for it.
-Ethan listen…
-Answer." he orders.
The roles had switched. He had given me a position of superiority, adoring me, throwing himself at my feet for even a pardon, but he was sick of it. And now not even my pleas will reach him.
“Imagine how romantic that would be, huh? May the students meet us tomorrow morning, both dead and entwined. It would be wonderful.” His smile was that of a sick man. What more do you need, my death? You want me to stick this pretty little knife in my heart for you? That I tear it down and give it to you as an offering? Come on, tell me you love me. I know you do.”
Finally, I manage to close my eyes. His description had managed to repel me enough to allow my brain to kick in the survival instinct. Ethan laughs mischievously. I feel him move, all his weight crushing my body. His lips settle on my neck for a second.
“You want me to kill myself, huh? I'll kill myself because of you. All because you don't love me. How can you be so selfish? he kisses my cheek. Tell me you love me, my love. I need it. His thumb passes over my eyelid gently, making me open my eyes.
I knew I was stuck. He was one step ahead of me, physically and mentally speaking. He had me stuck. My eyes were red and swollen.
-I… I love you… I whisper, choked cries leaving my mouth at the same time.
-Where is my first name, pretty ?
And to think that I was dreaming of saying those words to him a few minutes earlier.
-I… I love you Ethan… The curly man's face lights up, a gaping smile erasing his crazed expression.
- There, it wasn't so complicated now, was it?"
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That was my first story in english. please do not hesitate to gives me advices whatsoever, like if you think that the plot was too quick, ethan too out of character, not enough details, everything ! I hope you liked reading it anyways.
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What I'm actually furious about, isn't just the anti-Semitism I've dealt with here.
What I'm furious at is the Israeli government and military. I am furious that they have the nerve to perpetrate war crimes while appropriating the memory of the 6 million. It makes me sick. It feels me with rage. It fills me with feelings of betrayal (those are complex and require deconstruction, discussed briefly below). How dare they massacre children, civilians, and fucking hospital patients; and how dare they do so while using the 6 million as a rhetorical shield?
The edgelord who left me a snide remark comparing the situation in Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto wasn't the first person to make that comparison to me. It was actually the Palestinian woman who translated two major sources from Hebrew into English for me.
She was translating a biography of Tossia Altman when her three nephews and sister-in-law were murdered during the IDF action in Gaza. I asked her if she wanted to stop working on the project (with no impact on her fee for the project, of course; that's where about $4000 of the money y'all helped me raise went, fyi). The brand of Zionism practiced by Tossia and her comrades is very very different from the version embodied in Netanyahu, and it was those schools of Zionism which mostly died in the Holocaust (I said), but I would completely understand if the material was too triggering for her.
She said "I’m not sure about this triggering me, I think holocaust survivors and Gazans are on the same boat to tell you the truth. It could be an opportunity for me to actually fathom the full picture, in a way." And I haven't stopped thinking about it since.
I'm not going to post the rest of our conversation here, for what I hope are obvious reasons. And for concerned parties, this woman has been living away from Gaza for a very long time.
But this is why I'm so angry and emotional.
And I'm over here having these, frankly, very painful, personal feelings (if my posts over the last 4 months haven't made it clear, I spent my teen years in an extremely manipulative right wing Israel "education" program, and was raised surrounded by first and secondhand Holocaust trauma which inevitably impacted how my elders educated me about The Conflict none of which I was fully able to deconstruct until I became a Holocaust Historian in grad school). Especially with my knowledge of how SHITTILY Holocaust survivors were treated when they got to Palestine in the mid-1940s; of how fucking disgracefully Yad Vashem treated Rachel Auerbach and Yitzhak Zuckerman. Of the way the Jewish fighters actually died in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. I became a Holocaust historian because I am the great/granddaughter of survivors and I do this work because it's a fucking calling, not something that brings me joy. And the goddamn Israeli government, the government of a nation which likes to say it exists for all Jews (when it barely even represents the Jews who live there but that's a different conversation); the way that government manipulates and misuses that history to excuse their actions in Gaza make me fucking sick. And, as demonstrated by some of you actual fucking pieces of shit, puts Diasporic Jews in danger. (side thought: Does Netanyahu WANT to put Diasporic Jews in danger?? He knows how this fucking shit works, and I wouldn't be surprised if he WANTED Jews to feel deeply unsafe and respond to that by fleeing to Israel).
And WHILE I'm experiencing all of this and trying to keep it all together while writing the what may be the most important thing I've ever written in my career, you fucking [word I don't use out loud or in writing] come in here and to throw your anti-Semitic bullshit at me when I ask you to please not spew it at me via my (year old) fucking Holocaust Remembrance Day posts, and when I ask you to be fucking mindful of it in your political speech.
So let me make it fucking clear, as far as I am concerned there are 4 separate conversations at play rn.
1) October 7 was horrific, genocidal, and traumatizing for Jews on a global basis.
2) Israel is committing heinous war crimes in Gaza right now which, if its own military's statements are anything to go by, are actively genocidal.
3) You shouldn’t harass random Jewish people because you’re disgusted with Israeli governmental and military decisions and actions.
4) The Israeli government’s appropriation of Holocaust memory within its larger state building project doesn’t give you [collective: non-Jews] the right to abuse Jews for discussing and generally having feelings about the Holocaust.
And FRANKLY I think all those conversations are accurate and valid. I also don't think I'm obligated to tear my heart open give you all my intimate feelings because a bunch of pieces of shit on this site can't grasp points 3 and 4.
So fuck that right wing program I belonged to as a teen, fuck you fucking left wing anti-Semites who can's grasp that you're touting the ideologies of people who would have wanted you dead, and fuck the Israeli government for committing war crimes. fuck them for their ongoing abuse of palestinian civil and human rights, and fuck them for invoking the memory of the 6million while doing it.
I've fucking had it with that fucking State, I've had it with you goddamn Jew-haters, and I've had it with the Jewish ppl who might want to destroy my career upon seeing this post.
I am mad as HELL.
I'm not even saying my mental health break is over. I've just had a moment of clarity, my period is over, and I'm pissed as hell. i'm tired of policing myself to make the gentiles who hate me comfortable; and I'm tired of policing myself to make my coreligionists who'd destroy me for having these thoughts comfortable. and there are 122,000 if you, so i don't care if you're so fucking fragile that this post makes you hit the unfollow button.
tl;dr:
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auteurdelabre · 5 months
Text
A Little Sun pt 1 DieterBravo x f!Reader
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rating: 18+ (future chapters)
Pairings: Dieter Bravo x f! Reader (no detailed physical descriptions, no use of y/n)
summary: As a PA to megastar and mega man-child Dieter Bravo you've had your fair share of headaches. Getting accidentally pregnant with his baby however takes the cake, especially when he offers to pay you to be his surrogate. You just weren't expecting to fall in love with him along the way. (plot prompt inspired by 'Daddy Dieter' by @absurdthirst on Ao3 - read their story, its really wonderful!)
warnings/tags: Unplanned Pregnancy, Surrogacy, Family Issues, Sweet!Dieter, Drugs, Alcohol, Getting Drunk, Boss/Employee Relationship,
a/n: I am actively tryin' to make everyone a Dieter Bravo stan. He is slept on in this fandom istg.
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Part 1: First Trimester
"With every newborn baby, a little sun rises." - Irmgard Erath
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Being actor Dieter Bravo's assistant comes with many boons. You get to hob-knob with celebrities, attend galas and parties, get to travel the world and you get paid decently. The downside?
You have to work for Dieter man-child Bravo. 
He's an impossibly immature, inconsiderate man who's flakier than your mother's pie dough. 
When he isn't being a walking hypocrite who won't eat processed foods but has no problem taking copious amounts of coke, he's making your life a living hell. He loves to party and experiment with whatever drug is in vogue. Too often you're scraping him off a club floor and dragging him home. 
One memorable experience was flying by private jet over to Moscow to bring him home for the Academy Awards (which he fucking won because some people have all the luck) after he'd followed some hot Russian male model there and Dieter was convinced he was going to give up his citizenship and stay in Russia forever. 
Your mother cannot stand him. She reads about his exploits in the tabloids. She thinks your job is a waste of your talents.
She's not wrong. 
But this will all be worth it when you have enough to pay off the mortgage on your family home. As soon as you can your mother can stop working herself into an early grave pulling double shifts at the hospital.
You'll be able to move out into your own place and then you'll be able to finally go back to school and finish your Masters program. The one you had to quit so you could help support your mom after your father unexpectedly died. 
You'd been lucky to land the gig with Bravo. Plucked from the group of giggling models who whispered how excited they were to have Dieter Bravo as their boss. You held your resume and reference letters tightly, your mind focused on the salary listed. 
When you walked into the office to be interviewed with your long sleeves, high neckline and impressive resume his manager had been intrigued. When she asked what your favorite Dieter Bravo movie was and you had replied "Uh, I don't think I've seen many of his movies" she had given a wry smile and declared you a perfect fit for the job and hired you on the spot.  
Dieter had been disappointed. You remember the way his eyes roved over your body in your frumpy clothes and your serious face. He had been looking for fun. You weren't fun. 
You were a planner. You were someone who liked doing her job well. And your job was him. Getting him to set on time, organizing his appointments, dropping him with his publicist Diane so she could stop him from saying dumb shit to the tabloids when they cornered him and asked about his ex boyfriend or girlfriend. 
You put up with a lot of his shit. 
You also listen to a lot of the shit he says. The theories he has about the Hollywood elite, the creative outlets he wants to pursue, the scripts he has to read. You've learned to tune out his really stupid ideas. 
The idea of fatherhood comes to Dieter after his latest relationship crashes and burns. In typical Bravo fashion it's a spur of the moment event. A decision with no forethought. He mentions it casually over breakfast as you run through his schedule for the day.
"I'm gonna be a dad."
"Oh yeah? Who's the lucky lady?" you reply drolly, bringing up his schedule on the tablet in your hand. 
"Dunno. Haven't decided yet." He leans back in his chair, serene smile on his face.
You keep in the eye roll and go over what he's doing that day. He continues looking dreamily off into the distance, not paying attention. 
You assume that this baby thing is similar to the goat therapy sanctuary: an amusing idea that strikes him as fun and that will exit as quickly and quietly as it arrived in his brain. 
But a month later Dieter comes home in a foul mood slamming the door to his large home behind him. 
"I thought you women wanted commitment!"
You look up from your desk. You've been busy all morning managing his socials. "Huh?"
"You remember my ex? Annika?"
"Yeah."
"We broke up because she wanted kids and I didn't," Dieter says throwing himself dramatically into the chair opposite you. "So I figure she's perfect for this! I went to see her and told her I wanted to settle down and have a baby."
"And what did she say?"
"To leave her dentist's office and never contact her again."
"Wait," you lower your phone. "You went to her dentist's office?"
"That's where her fiancé said she was and I couldn't wait!"
"Her fiancé told you that?"
"Yeah," Dieter groans, not seeing how it was inappropriate. "I'm getting older by the second. I don't wanna be too old to be a dad."
You hold in a sigh, seeing that he's beside himself. Dieter is a successful actor, this is true. But he's just as famous for his hard-partying and wild sex-capades. No woman in her right mind would willingly have a child with such a man. 
"If you're that desperate to be a dad then adopt," you say trying to hold in your disdain. You don't think Dieter Bravo should be anywhere near anything to do with a child. And you know he won't be approved for adoption so there's no harm in suggesting it.  
"No. I want to pass on my genes."
You give him a raised brow in return. The same genetics that give him his impossibly luscious hair and beautiful brown eyes are also responsible for his love for drugs and spontaneous decision making. 
"What did your friend Becky do again?" Dieter asks sitting cross-legged in his chair. "The one who couldn't get pregnant with her husband?"
You're shocked he remembers this tidbit of your life at all. You kind of just assume he's not listening all that closely when you talk about a topic that doesn't directly involve him. 
"Surrogacy. She paid someone else to carry her kid."
"Amazing," Dieter says slapping the desk in delight. "That's what I'll do! Obviously I want them to have all my hot characteristics. But I need the ying to my yang so the kid's balanced ya know?"
You don't mention that this is dangerously close to playing with eugenics. Instead you just nod, reading your work phone and then typing in more info onto the tablet.
This is a Bravo phase. It'll pass.
He gets like this about projects that initially interest him, but sooner or later he'll be pulled back into the lure of partying and drugs and easy men and women to warm his bed. 
Dieter is watching you, studying you as you work. You've been his assistant for a year and you're good at what you do, despite your personality clashes. He drums his fingers on the desk, eyes narrowing on you.
"I need someone educated." 
"Mhmmm." You're really only half listening at this point. 
"Where did you go to school again?"
"Stanford."
Dieter nods, bringing a knee to his chest and balancing against it. He reminds you of a bored child. 
"Right, that's what I thought," Dieter nods, watching you type quickly away on the keyboard. 
You're very good at your job, very organized, very sharp. When he arrives at galas you're always there at his elbow to remind him of everyone's name in a whisper. You've never let him down.
You're good looking, even if you try to hide it under ugly clothes and hair you don't give a second thought to. He tilts back, trying to imagine you pregnant. Would your tits get bigger? The thought is very enticing.
"Cancer or heart disease run in your family?"
This draws your attention up from your phone which you now lower to the table and fix him with a dark look. 
"If you're suggesting what I think you are, you can stop right there."
"Why?" Dieter asks, eyes wide and pleading. "Our baby would be perfect! My looks, your brains!"
"Or your brains and my looks," you scoff, although you don't think you're that bad looking. "Besides, I have no interest in having children."
Especially with you.
You've never understood the appeal of children, especially babies. But if you were to be fooled into thinking that it was a wise venture the last person on the face of the planet you would do so with would be the man seated across from you.  
"I'll pay you!"
You lower the cell phone to the desk, trying not to come off too judgmental. He is your boss after all and you need the work.  
"You really think you're ready for fatherhood, Dieter?"
He looks affronted. "Of course I am."
"You think doing coke, partying and jetting off to different sets to film all over the world is really the best thing for a child?"
"Lots of actors have kids and-"
"You think a man who relies on his staff to keep him fed and his house clean could really understand the responsibility that comes along with raising a child?" You scoff. "Have you ever even changed a diaper?"
"I wasn't born into this life," Dieter says between clenched teeth. "I know how to make a fucking bed and change a diaper. I've changed diapers before. Remember that Mister Mom reboot I did?"
You do all you can not to burst out laughing at that. He's talking about the "parent boot camp" he and his co-star on the film had to go through in order to play parents convincingly. It included a two-day workshop on diaper changing, bottle feeding and basic child development. 
Apparently it had been a little too convincing because after that movie his female co-star had claimed to have no interest in having children ever. 
"You think a man who has to have a full time personal assistant and two publicists just to keep his image decent Is the kind of person who should be bringing a child into the world?" You scoff. "You think-"
"I get it!" Dieter erupts, throwing himself from his chair. "You think I'm a piece of shit that should never have children! Thanks. Message received."
You watch him stalk off, a pit in your stomach. 
///
Another month rolls by, one marked by strain on your end. Ever since you're heavy chat with Dieter he's been a little colder to you, a little more withdrawn. 
At least once a week before his outburst Dieter would insist you stay for dinner to run lines with him. He doesn't do that anymore. Before your fight he'd order your favorite meal from the Pad Thai place nearby and you'd spend a few hours going through the lines with him. 
You liked having a front row seat to the Dieter Bravo show because he's a good actor. He likes red wine when he's running lines. He always offers you a glass and you always decline because it's unprofessional to drink on the job. 
On those evenings you find it easier to chat with Dieter about life. Those evenings you don't have to worry about getting him to interviews or fetching him coffee. 
He asks you about your friends and family and you tell him surface level things. He doesn't know about your mom's long hours and a mortgage you can barely afford. He doesn't need to know. 
You never realized how much you enjoyed those nights until they stopped
///
You're in his town car driving with him to a Vanity Fair interview the following month. One where they hook him up to a lie detector. You're very thankful that you're not his publicist on days like this because you can only imagine what they'll be asking him and what his answers will be. 
Today will be spent grabbing him coffees and making sure he doesn't pass out in the green room. For his last BuzzFeed interview he'd been so out of it you'd had to pretend he had a dental emergency and cancel at the last second. 
"Okay so after this then you're meeting that French director about the Regency piece," you tell him as you check his schedule. It's packed full of things he needs to accomplish. 
"Mhmmm."
Dieter has his sunglasses on despite it being overcast today in LA. He's got his black crocs on underneath striped socks and he taps them gently as he stares out the window at the passing LA landscape.
"And then we need to go for your tux fitting for the-"
"I know you think it's a terrible idea," Dieter interrupts sullenly. "But I found someone to have my baby."
You pause what you were about to say, glancing over to him in interest. He's staring at you, sunglasses tipped down his nose so he can fix you with an intense stare.
"She's a model," he tells you like a petulant child. "Stunning. My child will be beautiful."
"Congratulations," you say after a beat. Dieter gives a scoff.
"That's all you have to say?" 
"Do you want me to organize a flash mob?" You say with a curl of your lip. "I hope she signed an NDA."
"Of course she did," Dieter sneers. "And since I'm paying her $75,000 for it she won't say a damn thing."
"Well then, good luck," you say with as much enthusiasm as you can muster. "I hope you and your future child are very happy."
"We will be. I'm going to love that kid to death," he tells you ardently. "My kid is never going to go without."
You can see Dieter narrow his eyes before pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. He leans back in his seat, looking sour. 
Despite everything you feel a stab of regret go through you. There are plenty of worse people in the world that have children. Because yes, Dieter is immature and yes he has his vices, but you've seen him with his young fans. He's a natural, more at ease with them than the adults who try to get too close for photos. 
"I'm genuinely happy for you," you tell him. "Your child will be very lucky to have a father that loves them so much." 
It never takes much to thaw the ice from Dieter Bravo. He likes being liked too much. He flashes you his megawatt smile that you return before turning back to his schedule.  
"Alright so, after the tux fitting..."
///
You give a sigh, shrugging off your jacket and padding to your kitchen later that evening. Your mom is there, sipping her nightly tea. She looks more tired than you, despite you working a fifteen hour day. 
She gives your forehead a kiss, telling you there's leftovers waiting for you in the fridge before brushing the hair from your eyes. 
"You're home late."
"Busy day," you yawn, grabbing dinner leftovers from the fridge and nuking them in the microwave. "He had a bunch of meetings, fittings, had to run through his script a few times."
You sit down with your dinner, taking a forkful and eating quickly. You're exhausted and tomorrow will be much of the same. It's always like this around award season. 
"Shocked he didn't get you to read him a bedtime story too," your mother scowls. She's never hidden her disdain for Dieter. 
You smile, thinking that if Dieter knew a bedtime story was an option he would probably take it. You know he hates being alone. 
The ping from your phone draws your attention. You have an alert set to Dieter’s name, just in case you and Diane need to work overtime on a Bravo-related catastrophe. But when you click on the link it goes to a Reddit thread from the Dieter Bravo subreddit. You glance and see its just one of the run-of-the-mill tabloid photos.
Every so often you're caught in them, listed as "Bravo employee". The first time it had happened you'd been mortified by the unflattering photo of you reading out Dieters schedule as he smoked a cigarette, looking off into the distance.
In these photos today much like the others you're on your phone mid-sentence. Dieter is smiling at you, hand holding his coffee by the top. It's fairly innocuous as far as photos go but the comments are anything but.
Do u think he's hooking up with his PA? Look at these photos.
It's called a job people! She has to be with him all the time.
He looks so fucking hot
Gross no.
I think he's hooking up with Luke Evans??
I will now be identifying as a coffee cup
She's literally looking at her phone. How is this anything?
It's giving secret romance look at their body language
Omg his hands are so big.
I bet he's crazy in bed.
They've totally hooked up
He's so into her look at how he's looking at her!
You roll your eyes and try not to laugh out loud. Your mother glances over at you and shakes her head.
"When are you going to quit working for that loser and go back to school?"
Your mom doesn't really understand why you quit school. She would feel like a burden if she did. But every month you pay off more and more of her mortgage, the better and freer you feel. It’ll be a few years more, but you can manage.
"Soon," you tell your mother with a small smile. “Soon.”
///
"Fuck I hate these things," Dieter says in the back of a limo a few weeks later. You're all headed to a film and theatre awards show. 
"Since when?"
"Since I have to present an award and I'm sober." 
“You are?”
This surprises you. Rarely has Dieter Bravo ever been sober during awards season. Even the year he won his Oscar he'd been flying high before his name was even engraved on the statuette. 
You go to grab your second phone, wanting to check something about scheduling when you realize your purse is back at Dieters. Fuck. You'll have to stop there on your way back tonight. 
"You look nice," he tells you offhandedly as he tugs at his bow tie. He usually sees you in jeans and a t-shirt. Tonight your hair is sleek, your makeup glamorous and your dress feminine and lacy. 
"Yeah well I heard Robert Pattinson will be there tonight," you say with a small smile. "Gonna shoot my shot."
Dieter rolls his eyes dramatically at this before his publicist Diane draws his attention to some talking points. 
"You need to return the watch before you hit up the after parties," she says, motioning to his wrist where he wears a diamond encrusted timepiece from Cartier.
"Aye aye captain."
When the limo pulls up to the red carpet surrounded on both sides by groups of screaming fans you see Dieter swallow. 
He loves a lot about acting, but this? The rabid fans, the constant screaming of his name? It stresses him out. He's told you this many times before. 
Despite your irritation with Dieter most days, there is a part of you that genuinely enjoys his company. He's creative and funny and blunt in a way that you appreciate. 
"You've got this Bravo," you tell him, squeezing his hand reassuringly before pulling back. He smiles at you, slipping on his sunglasses and taking a deep breath. 
You and Diane exit out the left side doors as Dieter exits out the right onto the red carpet. Screams at ear -splitting volumes begin the second his boot hits the carpet. 
"I LOVE YOU DIETER!'
"OMG ITS HIM!"
"He's so hot!"
"Do you think he's gonna do something weird?"
"DIETER SIGN MY BOOBS!"
Dieter waves and smiles, ignoring the more bizarre requests. His publicist warned him if he is serious about having a kid he needs to work on his image. You wonder how long this will last.
"Dieter Bravo have my baby!" One woman of about fifty shouts holding a hand towards him in desperation. Dieter waves at her and she looks as if she might faint. 
"There you go," you whisper to his back as he moves to the next photographer. "If the model doesn't work out at least you have options." 
He smirks at you before going to pose for the litany of flash bulbs and photographers. 
Inside the auditorium you and Diane guide Dieter behind the stage. He's paired up to present with an up and coming actress who makes moon eyes up at him. Her name is Mia Rowe and she's as gorgeous in real life as she is talented. 
"Hi Mr. Bravo," she says batting her eyes up at him. 
"Hi beautiful," Dieter purrs. You hold in an eye roll, sure to take note of this woman. Odds are you'll be calling her a cab from Dieter's place later this evening. 
"Bravo! I was hoping you'd be here!"
A tall blonde man with perfect teeth walks over, dressed in a form fitting tux. It makes Dieters bright pink checkered tux look cartoonish, but that's kinda what you liked about it. 
Corey Brigham, the UK's answer to what would happen if you created the most handsome yet unlike-able person on the planet. He and Dieter go way back, both big in the party and drug scene.
"Was hoping you'd be here," Corey says with a wink, tapping his breast pocket. "I was just heading to the bathroom if you'd care to join."
"I'm not uh, doing that tonight," Dieter says to his friend. "Just sticking to booze."
You overhear this, surprised. You wonder if this is to do with his desire for fatherhood. If so you're a little impressed. Mia looks up at Dieter with a curious expression. As if she's impressed as well, or perhaps that she's surprised Dieter isn't what she expected. 
The alcohol is flowing backstage and since you're a lightweight it takes very little to have you giggling behind your hand. 
You never drink at these things, but once Dieter is done presenting your off for the night. You can enjoy yourself a little bit, especially when the booze is high end and free.
When Dieter presents the award with Mia you're very proud to see him sticking to his lines and being professional.
"Fuck, I have to go," Diane announces to you midway through the show, clutching her cellphone. "My kids in the hospital, the nanny just texted."
"Oh my gosh," your hand goes to hers. "Is everything okay?"
"He's had an allergic reaction," Diane says, her eyes wet. "I'm supposed to make sure Dieter returns the watch-"
"Go!" You insist, pushing her gently. "I'll make sure he returns it."
"I couldn't-"
"Go!"
Diane shoots you a grateful smile before tucking herself when you to her purse and making a mad dash for the exit. You watch from behind the curtain as the awards ceremony starts.
You decline further drinks after the midpoint, but you're still more than a little tipsy when you walk over to wrangle Dieter at the end of the show. He usually loves to hit up the after parties and you need to make sure he returns the Cartier watch before he goes. 
You tap him on his broad shoulder, interrupting what seems to be a very intense (flirtatious) conversation with a redhead with the best pair of fake tits you've ever seen.  
He turns irritated at first but his face quickly blooms into amusement as you stare up at him wavering slightly on your feet. 
"Well, well, well," Dieter says smugly. "Miss Professional is drunk."
"I am not!" You insist, trying as hard as you can to keep the slur from your voice. "I'm just... I just had a little."
"You're slurring."
"Am not."
"Sure," Dieter laughs. "I bet you can't even walk in a straight line."
You immediately put one foot in front of the other, making a straight line from one side of the hallway floor to the other. You shoot him a victorious smile as he claps.
"My mistake," he drawls. "You’re obviously sober. I must have just overlooked that you always walk around with your eyes half open." 
The redhead, irritated at being ignored gives a small sigh through her nose before bidding Dieter a sharp goodbye. You watch her walk off and grimace. 
"Well you just cost me a date for the after party," Dieter laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders and walking towards the entrance where photographers have gathered. 
"Don't do that," you grumble. "Someone'll take a photo and get the wrong idea."
Dieter straightens immediately, but the amusement is still there in his features. 
"So I guess you're gonna have to be my date," he teases, knowing full well how much you hate parties and that you'd never be invited in. 
"Yeah right," you sneer. "I'd rather slide down a banister of razors into a pool of lemon juice."
"Guess I'll just have to find someone to keep me company then," Dieter says before winking at you. "I'll be at the Chateau Marmont if you change your mind."
He's out the door and in his limo before you remember why you needed to talk to him. 
The fucking watch!
Cartier will have a fit if it's not returned this evening and Diane will be so disappointed in you on top of a very stressful night for her. 
You have to run about three blocks in your heels to find a taxi to drive you. Traffic is majorly backed up thanks to the award ceremony and it takes you over an hour to get to Chateau Marmont. 
At first the front desk won't let you past the entryway even when you tell them who you work for. You collapse onto a chair and try in vain to call Dieter. Not shockingly he doesn't pick up. 
It's not until Mia Rowe arrives amidst screaming paparazzi and sees you near tears that she takes your hand and cites that you're with her. You thank her profusely and make a mental note to see every one of her movies in theaters for the rest of your life. 
She's walks with you into the bustling party before releasing your hand and wishing you good luck. It doesn't take long to find Dieter in the crowd, you simply have to go to where there's the most noise. 
He's in the middle of the group regaling them with one of his stories about the horrors of filming cliff beasts 5. He's got his arm around a young, very good looking Latin man you think is a singer. You watch as Dieter breaks off from what he was saying to kiss the young man thoroughly, tongues dueling as the music pulse around you.  
Shit that's hot.
You don’t often see Dieter in the throes of passion but you’ve walked in on Dieter with his fair share of men and women waking up after a rowdy party or two. Seeing him here though with the club music like a heartbeat in your abdomen and his full mouth pressed to the handsome man’s makes you feel… something.
The two break apart and Dieter is about to say something more to the group when his eyes land on you. 
"You made it!" Dieter slurs happily when you make your way towards him. "Take a shot!"
The crowd around him cheers as he produces a shot glass for you. Everyone is either coked out of their minds or massively drunk. It makes you jealous that your job has no glamour whatsoever.
"Here! Take a shot!" Dieter insists. "It's called the Bravo because uh... I forgot. But it’s good!"
You stumble over to him, not wanting to draw too much attention to the million dollar piece he's currently wearing on his wrist. Your mouth goes to his earlobe, lower lip catching the cool metal of his earring and the young man at his left shoots daggers at you.
"Dieter no, I need to return the-"
"The watch, I know," Dieter says with a smirk, his whisky tainted breath huffing along your cheeks. "I knew you'd have to come here to get it."
That asshole. 
"You think I have nothing better to do than chase you all over this fucking city?" you shout, barely heard over the thrumming music. 
Dieter just looks down at you amused and drunk. "Oh loosen up. I'll give you the watch."
"Good." You hold out your hand which he promptly places a shot glass into. 
"As soon as you have a drink with me."
"I can't-"
You want to deny him this, to just get the watch and go to Cartier. But you're still tipsy and you're at a Hollywood after party and wait-
"Is that Robert Pattinson?" You croak pointing to a handsome figure entering the room. Dieter squints over before nodding and smiling crookedly. 
"Twilight himself."
Holy shit. 
"Okay," you say, smoothing your hair back. "One drink."
///
You're both absolutely obliterated by the time you head to Dieters limo and you're not sure who is worse. 
You think you must be decently in control of your faculties because at least you remember to tell the limo to stop at Cartier where a very angry employee is waiting. 
"So sorry," you slur at him as you pass him the watch in its box over the counter sheepishly. He makes you sign something before you clamor back into the limo next to Dieter who is drinking straight out of a whisky bottle. 
He offers you the bottle and you take a sip. Just to be polite.
Then another sip to be extra polite. 
"Robert Pattinson was so nice," you tell Dieter for the third time since you left the party. "And so handsome."
"He's not that handsome," Dieter says, sounding like he's underwater. "Where d'you live?"
"Over there," you say pointing in the general direction of your house. Dieter nods, telling the impossibly patient driver to go left. 
"Wait my keys are at your house," you slur, eyes only half open. "How m'I gonna get in my house?"
"You need your keys," Dieter says loudly. "Less'go! My house!" 
You're both barely able to walk when you come back to Dieter's place, dropped off by his limo. Like two chums you wrap your arms around each other's shoulders and trudge up his steps. 
He drops his keys twice before opening the door with a groan.
"I hate wearing this stuff," he complains, pulling at the bow tie. You want to tell him that he looks nice but your mouth doesn't seem to be keeping up with your brain. 
Dieter pulls off his bowtie, letting it drop to the floor. You do the same with your shoes, hating how they feel after hours on end.
"Want a drink?"
"Yes!"
"Me too!"
You both look at each other, waiting for the other person to pour the drink before collapsing into giggles. When you finally stop Dieter trips over to his bar and pours two shots of expensive vodka, spilling all over the bar top. You clink glasses and throw the shots back. 
In habit Dieter turns the sprawling television on. The first thing that pops up is the discovery Channel and a documentary on giraffes. You both make a cooing sound when the camera pans to an unsteady baby giraffe just starting to walk. 
"Awww I love baby animals," you say feeling oddly emotional at the tiny creature. 
"I want one so bad," Dieter hiccups beside you.
"A giraffe?"
"No a baby-baby," Dieter pouts. "Want to give it everything I didn't have as a kid."
You've never really understood why Dieter wanted a baby until recently and in this moment you find his reasoning to be impossibly sweet. 
"That's so nice!" You enthuse, finding it hard not to shout. The liquor is soaring through your veins. "You're so nice!"
Dieter smiles crookedly at you. "You think so?"
"Yeah!"
"Then why are you so mad at me all the time?" Dieter sways on his feet. "I'm so nice to you."
"You are not," you say plainly. "You're obnoxious. You do drugs so often you forget you have obligations. So then I have to babysit you so you don't get sued. You make my job stressful!"
"Oh." 
Dieters head pitches forward and you can see that his eyes are closed. You've hurt him. That makes your drunken brain panic.
"But you're also really nice," you slur, gripping him by the forearm and shaking. "'Member you got me that really nice painting for my birthday?"
Dieter nods. The painting in question is of a beautiful woman overlooking the sea from behind, her stance filled with determination and her hair drifting in the breeze. It's as beautiful as it is vibrant and you'd been shocked when it arrived on your doorstep the morning of your birthday. Diane had mailed it, you recognized her handwriting. 
Your mom had been amazed at it when you brought it in and opened it, citing that you needed to hang it somewhere you could look at it all day. So you had, hanging it on the wall opposite your bed. It's the first and last thing you look at every day. The woman in the portrait 
"That was so nice!" You pause as your fuzzy brain tries to recall. "Did I ever thank you for that?"
"You gave me a thank you card and then told me to get ready for my BuzzFeed interview," Dieter shrugs, but that's your answer right there. He pours you both another shot of vodka which you both drink quickly. 
"I have it hung up in my house," you tell him honestly. "It's in my room. I look at it every day. It's so beautiful. And nice of you!" 
Nice is the only adjective that your addled brain can come up with tonight. Dieter smiles at you, a sweet little smile that has you smiling back at him. But then his handsome face crumples.
"If I'm so nice why does no one want to make a baby with me? Why do I have to pay that model?"
"I dunno," you answer honestly because right now in your drunken haze you don't really get why Dieter is single. He's handsome, rich and talented. Sure he likes cocaine and partying but there are worse things, surely! 
"I know why," he says in a sad rasp. "S'cuz I'm unlovable."
"That's not true," you interject with a gasp before throwing your arms around his neck. "You're wonderful!"
You've never embraced Dieter before in all the time you've worked for him. The most you've ever done is gripped his hand in yours as you guided him through a bustling club to get to an interview he was late for or squeezed his hand like in the limo. 
He's warm and he smells really good like expensive cologne. He'd dressed up well for the party tonight and you can't help but nuzzle your nose into his neck. You're both so drunk you lean against each other, not noticing when Dieter's nose glides along your neck as well. 
"I think it's true," he whispers softly.
You feel impossibly sad for your boss because Dieter is so nice! The painting! You wish you'd been kinder to him. Wish you'd thanked him properly. 
But wait, maybe you can? 
"Dieter! I'll make a baby with you!"
You can hear Dieter's heartbeat pickup under your ear pressed against his chest. 
"Really?" Dieter says, swaying. "That's what I was trying to ask before but you were so mad remember? You're always so mad at me!"
"I wasn't!" You reply sulkily, pulling back from him. You don't like being told that. You cross your arms, irritably. 
"Yeah you get this lil' line between your brows when you get mad at me," Dieter says, clumsily pulling off his jacket and dropping it on the ground. "It's so cute and oh- yeah just like that!"
He's pointing at your frowning face. 
"I wasn't mad," you insist, feeling the need to defend yourself. "I was just..."
You trail off as Dieter grabs you by the hips and pulls them to his. He looks down at you through his thick lashes. 
"You're really pretty," he tells you through a whisky-laced hiccup. "I always thought so but I couldn't tell you."
"How come?"
"You're intimidating."
You giggle because you've never seen his face this close up and his mouth is so pouty. His eyelashes are so long you've never noticed. 
"You're pretty too."
He kisses you then, his full mouth warm against yours. You kiss him back, making little whimpers when he licks into your welcome mouth. 
"You kiss good!" You tell him in shock when you eventually pull back. 
He smiles broadly, proud of himself. You can see the dimple in his cheek poke out. You decide that this is as good a time as any to get started. Your hands go to his belt. 
"Let's make the baby now."
"Okay."
///
When you wake up the next morning hung-over and still dressed in Dieter Bravo's bed you don't automatically assume the worst. His arms are around you and he's snoring against your neck and if you weren't feeling so wretched you might have enjoyed how his warm body felt wrapped around yours. 
It's not until you pad to the bathroom and begin to retch in his fancy toilet that you realize your panties are gone. 
Having heard the noise Dieter stumbles into the bathroom, shocked to see his normally composed assistant kneeling over his porcelain toilet. 
He leaves a few moments as you continue emptying your stomachs of its contents. When he returns he's holding two cups of what look like a disgusting green concoction. You take one from him, leaning against the counter. 
"Do you remember anything?"
"Uh, I remember dropping the watch at Cartier," you say before dropping your mouth under the sink to swish some water into your dry mouth before spitting. "I remember we came here to get my keys I think? That's when it all gets blurry."
"Did we see giraffes?" Dieter asks, blinking through puffy eyes. "I feel like I remember giraffes."
You groan at your aching head before you remember your missing underwear. You glance to see Dieter is wearing his ratty green bathrobe cinched at the waist and from what you can see nothing underneath. His bulge is prominent under his bathrobe, you can't help but notice. 
Dieter is staring at you, looking concerned. 
"Last night... Did we?" He makes a circle with his thumb and pointer finger before making thrusting motions into it with his free forefinger. 
"I...I don't remember," you croak, eyes blinking against the light streaming in from his bathroom window. You sip the green drink slowly, surprised that it doesn't taste as disgusting as it looks. 
"Me neither."
"I need a Plan B just in case," you murmur, splashing cold water on your face. "You have a lot of guests stay the night... Any chance you have a box lying around?"
When he doesn't answer right away you glance over your shoulder to see Dieter has a funny look on his face. He's staring at you, blinking. 
"What?"
"What if you are pregnant?" He asks quietly. "Would you consider keeping it?"
You laugh out loud. "Of course not!"
"Not even if I paid you?" Dieter asks, his voice hinting at desperation. "I'll pay you double - no, triple what I was going to pay the model surrogate."
You're about to loudly deny this request when you remember what he was offering that model: $75,000. Triple that is over $200,000. Yeah your life will be hell for nine months but then you'll be able to start a new one debt free. Your mom will be able to retire. You'll be able to go back to school. 
And it's not like you ever wanted kids in the first place so you wouldn't even get attached. All that money for an inconvenience. A blip. 
You can see the hunger in Dieter's eyes, the desperation, the deep need. 
He does feel an aching need for this. Because drugs are awesome, making movies is fun, the money is amazing but with no one to share it with he feels lost. It feels pointless. He's fucked his way through the Hollywood elite: men and women alike. It's boring. 
He tried making a real go of it with Annika but he'd fumbled it poorly and now she hated him and moved on. She was with her old co-worker and she was happy. 
In truth Dieter is terrified that he cannot make another person happy. But a miniature version of himself? He could do that. 
"Three hundred thousand," you say, not thinking he'll accept it.
"Deal."
Fuck why didn't I go higher?
Dieter sees you thinking, his mouth hitching into an excited grin. "So it's yes?"
"IF I agreed to the higher price point you'd be willing to honor the agreement if I got pregnant?" You venture. "The same one you were giving to that model? The one about covering all medical expenses and taking over sole custody and all that?"
"Yes."
"And I'd get the money when?"
"As soon as the baby is born. Just like the contract states."
"And the baby would never know I was its mother?"
"Never."
You pause, blinking rapidly. This all sounds too good to be true. And in all honesty, if Dieter takes this baby and forgets it on a park bench, that's none of your business or your responsibility. As far as you're concerned, this baby is a job. A very well-paying job.
"Okay fine," you say with a shaking breath. "I'll have your baby, Bravo."
///
You can't be pregnant from one night of drunken sex you both can't remember, right? Surely not. People try months if not years to get pregnant. Just look at Becky! Plus, you're not even sure you even had sex! Sure you'd woken up feeling a bit weird, but that could have been because you were waking up next to your boss.
You're thankful your mom works erratic hours at the hospital and didn't notice your late arrival this morning. You spend most of that day pacing around your house, doing laundry but mostly just feeling fuzzy. Not hung-over fuzzy (although that's part of it). It's an overwhelmed fuzzy that makes your head feel like cotton. 
Your day feels impossibly long and short all at once. You want it to hurry up so you can go to bed but at the same time you want it to stretch ad finitum because you dread seeing Dieter tomorrow.  
You'd left in such a rush that morning, not taking him up on his offer of breakfast. You needed to get away from him and that bed and that house. Needed to think about your next steps. 
When you mom arrives home later that night you've made dinner that you both eat in front of the TV. Your mom chooses some bad hallmark romance movie that makes you want to throw a brick through the screen. 
As you sit there bored your mind can't help but begin drifting back to Dieter and that night. You wonder what the sex was like if you actually did it. Was he tender? No, you think he'd be like a jackhammer. Despite his reputation for marathon sessions you think they Dieter would be a selfish lover. 
"Mom what was it like being pregnant with me?"
Your mom raises her head curiously from her palm braced against the couch arm.
"Why do you ask honey?"
"I dunno, I guess after Becky did that whole surrogate thing it made me wonder why people go through it," you lie. "It seems like so much effort for so little pay off."
"You think you were little pay off?" You mom asks with a sleepy smile. "I disagree."
"I think kids are really hard," you smile back. "And I don't really get it."
"Well you've said you're not having kids so I don't think you need to worry about it," your mom says kindly. 
You know as an only child there's a lot of pressure on you to have kids. You know your mom is aching to be a grandparent, especially after your dad's death. 
But she's never pressured you. When you told her you had no intention of having kids even if you found the greatest spouse she had simply hugged you and said she respected your choice. 
But you don't miss how she eagerly listens to stories about Becky's babies or asks to see photos. You don't miss how her eyes linger in the baby section at Wal-Mart. You don't miss the way she smiles at the trick or treat-ers that crowd your doorway on Halloween. 
"I felt wonderful being pregnant," she says suddenly. "Loved every second. Felt like a fertile goddess."
"Really?"
"Yeah." 
A ping sounds on your phone and a headline from a tabloid catches your eyes as you swipe up.
Dieter Bravo signs on for period piece alongside Hollywood darling Mia Rowe.
"Oh good he booked it," you murmur to yourself. He'd been beside himself working on his British accent, desperate to land this role that would take him from goofy villain to serious, romantic leading man.
"What was that honey?" Your mom asks, now slumped over sleepily on the couch.
"Just Dieter stuff," you explain. "I have an alert set to his name."
She grunts a reply before turning back to the television. 
You read the rest of the article delighted that his co-star is Mia Rowe. That's amazing news! You love her! You only hope he can keep it in his pants long enough to keep production from falling apart. You can't help but smile as you send him a text. 
[10:44pm] Congrats! I just heard about the Regency drama. You must be so excited! 🎉
You rest your phone in your lap before second guessing and placing it on the couch arm next to you. You look at your stomach, amazed that you of all people could potentially be carrying life. 
[10:44pm] D: I am thank u. Do u feel pregnant? 
You roll your eyes so hard you're convinced you can see your brain. Is he fucking serious? Does he really not have any clue about how pregnancy works? Is he not aware that Google is free?
[10:45pm] I won't know for weeks.
[10:45pm] D: I thought women knew early?? That's what Magda says. 
Magda is his ancient housekeeper. A woman who has worked for Dieter since he hit it big. She does a terrible job keeping his house tidy but there's no way he'll ever fire her. 
You turn your phone off irritated. You'd been trying to be kind and supportive and he managed to overlook it entirely. 
You watch your mother fall asleep on the couch, her head tilted in her hand. And for a fleeting moment you do hope that you're pregnant. You want to give this woman everything. 
$300,000 would change both of your lives and it seems insane that Dieter won't even miss that amount from his bank account. It'll be a drop in the ocean for him. It makes you feel prickly and resentful by the time his next text message comes through. 
[11:02pm] D: Are ur breasts tender?
[11:02pm] Fuck off. 
///
Living in the fantasy of having all that money had been fun. But a large part of you hadn't really believed that you'd be pregnant. 
So when the two pink lines show up on the pregnancy test that Dieter has bought you three weeks later, you shake your head and take another one.
"Well?" 
Dieters muffled voice calls to you through the bathroom door. He's been sitting outside the door leaning against it for the last ten minutes. 
"Gimme a second!" You bark out over your shoulder. 
You take another test. 
And another one.
Pregnant. 
Yep. You're fucking pregnant.
You are carrying Dieter Bravo's child in you at this very second.
You pull up your t-shirt, standing and looking in the mirrors reflection. Your stomach looks exactly the same. Nothing has changed. 
And yet everything has changed.
Dieter is waiting for you outside his office bathroom pacing back and forth. When he sees your wide eyes his own go owlish in his face. 
You swallow before thrusting the three tests into his hands. He looks at all three, delight blooming over his face.
He falls to his knees, raising his hands in victory over his head before bellowing. 
"We're having a fucking baby!"
///
After a multitude of tests by Dieter's private doctor the next week, the confirmation comes through. 
You're six weeks along. 
Dieter jumps on the couch, shouting excitedly as the news is announced. You simply sit stiffly in your chair as the doctor smiles at you and offers you congratulations.
"It's still early," he warns you both and that causes Dieter to stop jumping on furniture.
There's a lot of paperwork to go over that following week. Dieter has brought in his lawyer and on top of the additional NDA there's also a mountain of certain clauses, exceptions etc. Dieter offers to pay for a lawyer for you but you deny him. 
You take the paperwork to a cheap lawyer in town who gives it back a week later citing that "it's thorough but fair."
No one besides you, Dieter, his manager Mark and his publicist Diane can know. Diane is handling the roll out of the birth nine months from now, laying the groundwork for a successful launch.
She talks about your future child like a product or commodity. It makes both you and Dieter wince. 
"No hard drugs Dieter, I'm serious," Diane warns him over coffee in his living room. She's got a checklist to go through with him and you. 
"I've been off 'em for weeks," he assures her. "Just stickin' to weed."
"No big parties, no orgies," she says checking notes off her phone. "No ridiculous ranting on the red carpet."
"Fine." Dieter nods although you can see that he's going to miss those. He's always enjoyed the attention that goes along with a good party... Or a good orgy... Or rant. 
"And you," Diane says turning to face you seated beside Dieter in his living room. "Obviously you signed an NDA so if people ask, you got pregnant from a one night stand and due to religious reasons you're keeping the pregnancy and giving the kid up for adoption."
Partially accurate.
"Won't it look kinda suspicious for his PA to be pregnant and then him suddenly have a baby?" you ask, suddenly concerned.
"You won't be his PA after this conversation," Diane informs you. "It would be a massive conflict of interest."
You feel your heart lurch. "Wait, I'm fired?"
"Not at all," Diane explains patiently. "You're on paid leave. You'll be given your weekly paychecks as usual."
The thought of nine months stuck at home for your mother to fret over (or worse once she finds out the dad is Dieter) makes you wince. Dieter squirms in his seat next to you, scratching absently at his ankle. A trait he does when he's agitated. 
You've been his PA the longest he's ever maintained one. Usually he sleeps with them or burdens them into quitting. He feels safe with you, you're good at your job and you make him feel stable. Plus you’re carrying his fucking child. He doesn’t want you gone.  
"No," Dieter finally insists, his voice strong. "I need her. I'm going to film in Ireland and I need her with me."
"Dieter-"
"She can wear baggy clothes when she starts to show," he reasons. "And when she gets too big she can do office work."
"Dieter-"
"No negotiating," Dieter insists. "I want her to work for me as long as she wants to." He turns to you at this point, brow raised. "Only if you do."
You smile brightly at him. "I do."
"So do I."
"Great," Diane says rolling her eyes. "I now pronounce you both totally fucked."
///
When you finally hand your completed contract over to Dieter and his lawyers that following week his smile is so wide you think that his face will split. 
Immediately his broad hand goes to rest against your belly, eyes wide with anticipation. 
"Hello little thing, I'm your daddy," he tells your stomach. 
"Okay rule one," you tell him, pushing him off of you with a look of disgust. "No touching me without permission. I am not going to be one of those pregnant women that let strangers touch her belly."
"We're not strangers," Dieter pouts. 
"Besides all your touching right now is my stomach fat," you say flatly. "The baby is the size of a poppy seed." 
Dieter looks amazed. "How do you know that?"
You show him the app you've downloaded to your phone to track everything from fetal development to dietary suggestions. It's called BabiEDucate. 
"You can make an account too," you tell him. "Parents can link up and access the same files."
Dieter is already downloading it before the sentence leaves your mouth. Parents. He's going to be a parent. He's going to be a dad! He's fucking giddy.
"I'll make sure I update it with everything," you promise. "Photos, cravings. It'll keep you involved even when you're working."
"Oh right," Dieter says, deflating. In all his excitement he'd forgotten the film. Several months of filming a period piece over in Ireland. "You're still coming right?"
"I'm still your PA aren't I?" you say bringing out the schedule. Ireland is only a few weeks away and you wonder if you'll be showing. 
The nice thing about being a nobody in the world of celebrity is that no one will think it's strange if you suddenly start to show. You're Dieter's PA, not his friend or co-star. Your pregnancy won't be fodder for tabloid headlines or the rumor mill. 
"When we're in public I'm still your employee," you remind him. "So no talking to my stomach or talking about the pregnancy."
Dieter looks thoughtful before snapping his fingers, inspired. 
"We'll have a code word! How about... Broccoli."
"No."
"Lube?"
"Dieter-"
"Bubble? that's even a fun word to say!"
"Fine," you say with an eye roll. "Bubble it is." 
///
By the end of your second month you feel like absolute shit. Morning sickness has hit you bad. Your mom is usually out of the house before you in the mornings but she catches you hovering over the toilet one morning and you have to pass it off as food poisoning. 
You're thankful that filming will take you over to Ireland for a few months. That's a few months that you can put off telling her that you're carrying your boss's child. 
Dieter has been as annoying as he is helpful in that regard. When you're with him at his place or driving to an event he's his usual self. Well, except all he wants to do is talk about the baby. But at least he does his job and can be redirected. 
When you're not with him though? It's another story. 
[2:06pm] D: you didn't upload to the app today. 🍼🍼🍼
[2:07pm] Too busy puking. 
[2:07pm] D: I saw an article that says ginger tea helps. 
[2:08pm] 👍
When you come out of the bathroom wiping at your washed mouth an hour later you're surprised to hear knocking. 
You open it to find Dieter standing at your door with a cardboard box. 
"What are you doing here?" You ask, eyes blown wide. "It's my day off and you're supposed to be at a promo photoshoot for-."
"I know," Dieter interrupts before placing the package into your arms. You glance inside to see heaps of ginger products: tea, honey, biscuits, candies.
"What’s all this?"
"For your morning sickness," he says glancing down at your stomach as if he's expecting you to have magically popped since he saw you yesterday. He's disappointed that you still look the same. 
He gives you a quick smile and wave as he heads back down your driveway towards the waiting cab. 
"Don't forget to update the app!'
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Text
Apologies for my recent radio silence. I've had a lot on my mind lately.
This post isn't Earthspark-related at all, but please read it.
I need to take a second on this blog to acknowledge some things going on in the world. I should not have stayed silent on this blog before, but I'm trying to fix that now.
Genocide in Palestine + how you can help Palestinians
You can buy e-sims for people in Gaza here. Anything helps.
Click here daily to help generate funds for Palestine. It's free and takes less than a minute.
Here's a list of where you can donate to help Palestine.
(If there's anything I should add to this section, please let me know.)
-----
The KOSA bill, what it's going to do if passed, and how you can help prevent it from taking effect
KOSA will essentially erase anonymity from the internet by requiring people to upload their government ID or other form of identification to any social media site, as well as restricting resources and information on LGBT rights, history, racism, and more. This bill will censor the entire internet and destroy privacy while violating First Amendment rights and potentially putting minors in danger.
This also could very well mean the end of Tumblr, and I'm not exaggerating here.
Tomorrow KOSA could be passed in Senate, and from there it will need to pass in the House of Representatives before being signed into law by the president. It's not doomsday yet, but it is a dangerous situation-- and here's what you can do.
StopKOSA.org provides you with a template email to send to your representatives. You can leave it how it is or edit it to say what you want, and then send it from their website.
The website also allows you to call your representatives and gives you a template of what to say.
BadInternetBills.org, run by the same people, takes action against KOSA as well as other bills like EARN IT. At the time of posting this, over 356,000 people have signed this petition.
Additionally there are several petitions on change.org to help stop KOSA. Here are a few of them.
STOP KOSA
STOP THE KOSA
Stop Kosa
Save Humanity, Oppose KOSA
STOP THE KOSA ACT
(Again, please let me know if there's anything I should add.)
-----
One last thing-- The evolution of AI images and video.
I don't really have anything good to say. AI is evolving fast and changing the world as we know it. We are adapting, but nobody knows how this really is going to end up.
A few quick points:
AI images are not art. That's all. AI "artists" who genuinely claim to have made something of their own just by typing a prompt into a generator will be blocked. (Which has been in my rules for a while, but I still think it needs to be said.)
I recommend Glaze for artists who don't want their art being scraped and used for data training. Especially with the recent rumors of an upcoming deal between Tumblr and Midjourney. There's also a similar program called Nightshade (haha, earthspark reference? anyone?🦉) that I haven't tested myself but have heard good things about.
-----
That's all, I suppose. Reblogs are good, if you don't mind.
Spread the word about KOSA. Contact your representatives. Sign the petitions.
Support Palestine if possible. Donate if you can. If you are unable to donate, make sure to do your daily clicks.
Stay safe and take care of yourselves. ❤️
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jeonwonwoo · 7 months
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☆ UPSCALING LOW QUALITY FOOTAGE
what i used: • 2021 macbook pro with m1 chip (390/500gb storage used she's hanging in there) • photoshop 2020 • mpv (for screencaps but this isn't needed!) • handbrake (available for linux, mac and windows here) • video source to gif
what is handbrake? basically its a software that helps you change the format of videos, such as for certain devices or screens, or in the case that we're going to utilise, quality and frame rate!
disclaimer: handbrake is super easy to use and very beginner friendly for this procedure and it can make a video go from 30fps to 60fps however it does not replace the quality of true 4k/blue/master-pro res files. in the gif below, this is the level of detail in a master pro-res file.
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getting started it's easiest first to note the timestamps of the video you want to encode, and keep in mind that unless your computer is incredibly powerful, i wouldn't try to encode an hour worth of footage in one run! my laptop could handle about 30 seconds in one go before she started toasting.
using handbrake: once you've downloaded the software, open the software and it will come up with a pop up window asking you to open the video source (that is presumably saved within your folders) and go ahead and do so!
in the range section, use the drop down button to navigate to seconds and enter your timestamp. the duration on the side will show how long of the footage you're gonna encode is!
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then go down to the save as, and give your footage 'to be snipped' a name. this isn't necessary but useful because if you're planning to say, encode 3 or 4 small parts of footage in one sitting, each encoding instance will overwrite the previous one. so i just call mine 'cut 1', 'cut 2' and so on.
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next go to preset, and there you'll see such a wide variety of options that you can play around with, with differing qualities, frame rates, sound options, and so on. for the sake of this tutorial, i'm using 'superhq 2160p60 4k av1 surround' and i've used the drop down menu to select it! then go ahead and press start! the time taken to complete depends on the duration of footage that you sent to encode! you'll find your encoded video as an .mp4 file in your designated folder (which you can change via browse at the bottom)
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what next? • if you prefer to open footage directly into photoshop (my ps can't handle it), then go for it! • if you screencap as i do, then just use mpv or whatever screencapping program you prefer to make the screencaps and open in ps in your usual manner. • you can use the timestamps to further process the video through vapoursynth to denoise, but i've yet to try that!
the results for this first set of example footage, i used footage from the be the sun concert file, which is almost 2 hours in length and 4gb in file size.
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you can see the difference in the smooth frame rate of the footage, as well as the quality of the sharpening!
and to utilise the bane of gifmaking, a gose episode, notorious for dodgy pixelated frames and less hd quality in 1080p on youtube, i ran it through the same settings!
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these are the exact same files, downloaded using 4k video downloader and with the same sharpening, but see how on the original file, the sharpening looks a bit more harsh and 'outlined' while it seems to sit softer on the encoded 4k version!
so i mainly use handbrake for dvd files, or not-so-hd 1080p youtube videos or videos that seem a bit clunkier but i had never tried them on a tv/film file so take a look below! i used a 1gb (so not very good quality) of a show (as compared to its 4gb files).
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as i said at the start in the disclaimer, handbrake can't replicate true file quality, as you'd expect to see in a proper hd bluray/t*rrent file of a show but there's an interesting difference in the frame rate. personally it's not something i would utilise much there but its all up to individual preference on how someone prefers to have their gifs <3
this is a very basic run-through of how i used handbrake, as i haven't really explored all its features and i use this as a quick process when i'm running through seventeen dvd/dl files but i feel like it would work well on general youtube videos (such as interviews, episodes, behind the scenes) and feel free to send an ask/message for any help/clarification! <33
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roses-for-readers · 6 months
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Hello, this is my first time requesting something and i was kinda nervous and i have a few ideas in mind.
But i was wondering if you can write an avatar x maleficent readeri don’t see many of these and i would like something different, and love your writing (if you can’t thats totally fine) thx
This was such a cute idea that I had immediately started it once I got this request! I kinda did a style of the movies still exists and it's not just a random occurrence in the universe. I cut this off to have a nice and fluff type ending but with the opportunity to do a part 2 with heavy angst. And if you want one with the second movie, like it's a growth from this one, just let me know.
Finding Home ~Avatar x Maleficent! Reader
Warnings: Small injuries and a miscommunication that almost causes a fight (Tsu'tey doesn't understand human friendship dynamics)
Masterlist
Being born with wings was definitely a surprise when everyone in the delivery room when I was born. Especially when I later began to grow horns with each passing month. I could only imagine everyone's surprise when they all found out I was exactly like the Disney character Maleficent. That the story wasn't as fictional as everyone had once thought.
Growing up I had idolized the movies of her, ecstatic that I was unique just like she was. Though their were difficulties with my uniqueness as I got older. It was harder to breathe normally compared to someone that had regular problems when I had come to be about 6.
Mom worked with the RDA as a researcher, so they were willing to take a look at me to see what might be wrong. They finally came to the conclusion it was because of the lack of natural forests with fresh air. This caused me to have to use a special inhaler at least 3 times a day. But it was also a discovery that changed my life because I got to meet Grace.
"You know, I'm going to a special place. A different planet that's supposed to have a lot of trees and all kinds of animals and flowers. I think it's just the place you need to truly thrive. Do you like that idea?"
That's what led me here 21 tear years later, technically 15 if cryosleep isn't counted. A botanical expert that would be working alongside Grace and the other members of the Avatar program.
During the safety briefing, I could feel everyone staring at me. But I had become used to it and just focused on the information that was being given to us. Feeling anxious to see Grace again after so long since I first and last saw her.
After the meeting was over, I got ushered along with a Norm and Jake to go and meet up with Grace. I had a small bounce in my step as I walked along with them, not even noticing the weird looks.
"I just gotta ask. What's with the wings and horn things? You like dressing up in them or something?"
"Jake!"
I chuckled softly at the question, casually looked over at the both of them as Jake just waits for an answer as Norm looks absolutely mortified. Stretching my back slightly, I lift one wing up to hang over his had for a second. Smirking at the look of pure awe on both of their faces. "That good enough for you?"
"Holy shit," Jake softly laughed out as he stared at them for a few more seconds before shaking his head. "Now I've seen it all."
"No, I don't think you have yet." I look ahead as we get to the control center of the Avatar program. A smile spreading across my face as I take in all the technology around us, focusing mostly on the screens that were playing overhead.
The sound of one of the pods opening drew my attention away to across the room. A genuine smile coming across my face as I saw her sitting up from the machine, Dr. Grace Augustine.
Grace spoke to some of the other researchers before she turned to look at all of us. I had to keep myself from jumping in to hug her when she turned her focus to me.
Taking in my appearance, she had a small grin as she reached out and affectionately cupped my chin. "Look at how much you've grown. I don't even recognize that little kid that used to carry around a stuffed Maleficent toy like it was a part of you. I'm glad you got to join the program, (Y/n)."
"Thank you, Dr. Augustine," I bashfully reply, feeling ecstatic that she even remembered my name from one interaction years ago. "I'm grateful for the opportunity to be here and working alongside you."
"Always the modest one. That's one of the things I admired about you." She playfully shook my head before finally letting go. Her face becoming a little more stern as she looked at Jake and Norm. Speaking a little more firmly with them.
Letting her words fade into the background, I look back over at all monitors that sit in the center of the room. Marveling at the images that were showing up along with the graphs and how quickly they changed every few seconds.
"They update in real time, you know." I turn my head over to see a guy with glasses standing there with a smile. Pointing up at one of the screens, he continues, "The graphs and the numbers. They help us monitor the vitals of everyone while they are in the pods."
I let out a small 'oh' in understanding as I look back at the monitors for a couple more moment before looking back at him. Holding my hand out, I begin to introduce myself, "I'm (Y/n)."
"I heard," he chuckled out as he took hold of my hand. "My name's Max. I help track the vitals of everyone. And I'm sure everyone heard your name earlier. Grace has never been that nice to anyone before, except for the children."
"Children?" I give him a questioning look as I drop his hand. "They have children here on the base?"
"No, the Na'vi children. Oh, I bet that they are going to love you when they get a look at you." Max's eyes widen when he realized what he had said. Opening and closing his mouth as he tries to find something else to say.
"(Y/n), follow me. Time for a little academic show around." Grace calls out as she begins to head out the door with the men close behind.
Turning back to look at Max one last time, I raise my hand with another smile as I walk away. "I hope your right about that."
I lightly jog to catch up with the group as Grace leads us through the series of hallways until she pushes open a set of doors. When we enter, the first thing I noticed was the dim lighting and blue tint that almost glowed around us. The second thing was the glass tubes that held our Avatars.
Grace placed a hand on my shoulder before leading me to a specific pod off towards the back of the room. Speaking softly when we get closer, "It will take a little longer for you to get your Avatar than the others. It decided to pick up a few extra strands in your DNA that we used."
I stare in awe as I stand in front of the tank, noticing what she had meant. There laid a Na'vi body with features just like mine. Along with a small set of horns and wings that were still developing to fit the rest of the body. Stepping closer, I set my hand on the glass as I smile down at the body. "It's beautiful."
Grace stood beside me with one arm around my shoulders as she put her other hand on the glass with me. "Just like you."
While I didn't have the Avatar body, Grace still let me tag along during the research expeditions. Just as long as I promised to keep my inhaler on my person and my mask stayed on at all times if I didn't need to use it. Just because she wanted to test out the theory of me potentially being able to breathe the air here slowly and in a controlled environment.
We were carefully walking through the forest to a spot where Grace had decided to get some new samples from earlier. There wasn't much talk as we took in the sight of living plants in front of us. Or at least me and Norm were mostly focused on them.
"So, are you able to fly with your wing? Or do they not work for that?" I turn my head up to see Jake staring back at with a confused look on his face.
"I can, but not very well. There weren't many places that I could do something like that back on Earth," I casually explain to him before looking around back around at the area around us.
Grace kneels to the ground around some roots in a tree as she begins to get the equipment ready with Norm as she guides him on what to look for with the images that showed on the screen. I tried to pay attention as I looked down, but I saw Jake walk away out of the corner of my eye.
Following after him, I see him interacting with a different kind of plant. The moment he touched it, it retracted towards the ground as a defense mechanism. I smiled as I watched him do it again with the same result. We both laughed slightly until all of them went to the ground to reveal a small group of the native animals.
We both hold our breaths as one of them gets closer to us. Grace comes running over with Norm as she calls out to Jake. "Don't move. It's only a defense tactic. Just stand your ground."
I watched as he stared down the creature until I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Slowly turning my head around and up, I saw a different animal with sharp fangs staring down at me. I held my breath out of fear as it looked over at Jake and let out a low growl. Jumping over the both of us, it stared down at Jake as he took a step back.
"What do I do with this one?" Jake called over to Grace as he locked eyes with the predator in front of us.
It let out another low growl when Grace called back, "Definitely run!"
I barely processed the fact that Jake had turned around to start running. I let out a small scream as he lifted me over his shoulder. I held onto his shoulder as I helplessly watched as the creature chase after us through the dense forest.
Suddenly Jake came to a halt which caused me to look over to see we had gotten to a cliff edge near a waterfall. "What are you doing?! Go!"
"Can you swim?!"
"Fucking jump!" I apparently didn't have to tell him a second time when a deafening roar sounded through the trees. He pulled me down to his chest and jumped down as he stiffened his body. I wrapped my wings tightly around us right before we hit the surface.
Water rushed past us for a few seconds before Jake began to swim upward. Pushing away from him to start swimming myself, we raise our heads over the surface. Jake gasped for air as we both look to see the creature slowly walk back into the forest.
I let out a small sigh as we swim over to the shore and check for any injuries. I glare at Jake after making sure I was fine from the fall. My voice laced with a subtle anger when I say, "'Can you swim'?"
Jake looks at him as he raises a hand as he backs away. "I was trying to make sure you would be safe if we-"
"Can you swim!? Can you fucking swim!? That's the first thing you thought of!? Not, 'is your mask waterproof' or 'is the thing catching up'! You could have thrown me and I would have flown down while you jumped if you were that worried! But 'can you swim' was all you could think of!?"
"You know," Jake began talking as he turned around and started to walk through the forest, "you are very angry for someone that looks like a Disney character."
"She was a villain to begin with anyways. Maybe you should watch your back Sully." I continue to glare at his back as I walk behind him deeper into the forest.
He looks over his shoulder with a smile as he takes in my disheveled appearance. Trying his hardest to hold in his laughter as he shrugged. "Grace wouldn't let you."
"Grace isn't here," I whisper to myself as we continue to walk. I hear noises of unknown animals from deep in the forest. Despite being mad at Jake, I quicken my pace to be walking beside him. Looking up at the trees, a strange feeling coming over my body as I scan the leaves overhead. "Jake..."
"I know," he mumbled as he carefully scans the trees as well. Reaching a hand out, he gently takes hold of my arm and pulls me to his side. "I feel the eyes too."
"Where are they? What are they?" I hold onto his arm as I start to breathe a little erratically. Using my free hand to rub at my chest as I begin to cough.
"Hey, hey. Calm down there. We'll be okay." Jake looks down at me as he stops walking. Kneeling down a little as his hand goes to my soaked bag. "You need your inhaler 3 times a day, right? You haven't used it since breakfast. Let's get it out and take a deep breath. Can you get it out?"
I nod my head as I let him take the bag off my shoulder. Trying to take a few shaky breaths as I begin to rummage through everything that I had packed. Quickly grabbing hold of the inhaler the moment I uncover it from under everything else. Pulling it out as I shake it lightly as I look at Jake. He gives a small nod, which help my nerves as I bring my free hand to my mask. Pulling it up just enough, I bring my inhaler up to my mouth and take a deep breath. Pulling it away almost immediately to secure my mask back into place with a deep breath.
Jake rubs my shoulder as he waits for me to catch my breath. Giving me an encouraging nod as holds my bag open as I put my inhaler back inside. "There we go. Come one, we need to keep moving. It's going to be night in a few hours and we need to find a place to spend the night."
I nod my head again as I look back at the trees above. Taking my bag back from him and securing it on my shoulder before we began to get on our way once again.
The sun had went down just a little over an hour ago. The sounds of multiple animals circling around us was all that I could hear as Jake began to sharpen a stick. I anxiously look around the trees to try and find where the animals might come from, but they just kept circling around just past our line of sight.
"(Y/n), look at me," Jake speaks in a slightly stern voice as he grabs my arm. As I look at him, I see the fear in his eyes at the situation. But he keeps his composure as he keeps talking as if he wasn't to begin with. "If anything happens, if I tell you to run, you forget about me and get out of here. You fly up and get into a tree until morning when Grace will come back and find you. You look after yourself and I know that you'll be fine. Do you understand?"
I quickly nod my head to show that I understood. I was going to say something to him, something about how it wouldn't have to come to that, but the words stopped short as the bushes right beside us rustle. I can't even fully comprehend it before Jake began to push me away in the opposite direction as we started running again.
We didn't run for long until the animals began to circle us in. I ended up with my back pressed against a tree as the dog like creatures snapped their teeth at Jake. I shut my eyes as soon as he begins to fight off the creatures. I didn't want to watch if he potentially had to kill a few of them before they hopefully ran off somewhere else.
Just as soon as everything got crazy, everything went quiet. I hesitantly opened my eyes to see Jake on the ground as a Na'vi woman kneels down to one of the creatures. Though I couldn't quite make out what she was saying, I could tell she was mumbling a prayer for the creature. That act alone made me look down and away from her, remembering how Grace told us of how sacred life was to the people.
Jake apparently wasn't informed of that or didn't remember as he tried to get closer to her, reaching out and touching her shoulder as he repeatedly tried to thank her. I had to keep from laughing as she swung her bow and hit Jake right in the face. I didn't do that good of a job as she looked over at me with a small hiss before turning around and running into the forest.
Jake quickly got off the ground and followed after her. I didn't even have the chance to protest as he called out from over his shoulder. "Come on (Y/n)."
I quickly made sure my bag was still closed, I ran after the both of them. Though it was a little harder considering that they were larger and more physically equipped to be jumping around the limbs of the trees.
"Hey, wait up!" Jake called out to the Na'vi as we got to a tree that was decently high up from the ground. He had just caught up to her when she turned around to face him.
"Away. Both of you," she spoke in a quiet tone, but the disdain was evident as she looked between the both of us. Getting so close in Jake's space that he took a step back and almost slipped. I held my breath as I watched Jake try to reason with her, even blocking me from her view by steeping to the side just slightly.
I tried to keep focused on the situation, but something moved closer to us out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head out of fear that another creature had followed us. But to my surprise there were small plant like things floating in the air. Slowly getting closer to us before most of them began to land on Jake. A hand full of them remained floating in the air nearby. Hesitantly, I reach a hand out to them, watching in awe as it slowly landed on my open palm. I laughed softly as it gently tickled my skin while the others continued to float around us.
After a few moments, they began to float away from us. I turned towards Jake with a huge grin at what had just happened. My gaze quickly turns curious as I see the Na'vi looking at us both in awe as well.
She looked between me and Jake before she beckoned us with a wave of her hand. "Follow me. Come now."
Jake looked like he wanted to protest her sudden change in heart, but I lightly pushed against his back to get him to follow her. With a sigh, Jake quickly began to chase after her with me following close behind.
We continue running across the tree limbs that seem to stretch on for eternity. Anxiety and anticipation coursing through my veins as the three of us go deeper into the forest.
"Where are we even-" Jake stops in the middle of his question as something comes in contact with his legs. I watch in horror as he violently falls down to the forest floor.
"Jake!" I call out as I lean over to see if he was injured. But I was forced to stop short as something wrapped around my chest. Throwing me off balance as I fall down to the ground as well, landing just a few feet from Jake. The impact leaves me disoriented as my head hits just lightly against a rock that was barely uncovered from the dirt.
I blink away the blur that comes into my vision as yelling sounds from almost every direction. A pair of hands lifts me up before one removes itself. My body tensing up entirely as I feel a sharp, cold blade carefully press right in between my shoulder blades.
Glancing over at Jake, I see he was in a similar situation with a knife pressed against his neck as they held him by his queue. But my attention quickly shifts again when the Na'vi who seems to be the leader of our ambush committee comes forward. He jumped down from his mount as he began to stalk over to Jake.
When he got just a few feet from Jake, the woman jumped down from the branch. Effectively blocking his path as the two of them began to argue between the two of them. I wasn't able to catch most of what they were saying due to how my head was throbbing due to the fall. What I could tell was that he wasn't happy with our presence and she mentioned something that involved their Tsahik.
The conversation came to a quick halt as the leader got back onto the horse like creature. He gave a short order to the rest of the group, which caused the Na'vi that were holding us to pull us to our feet. The sudden movement caused my head to spin so much that my stomach churned. I kneeled back to the ground before lifting up my mask, throwing up what little content I had in my stomach. Barely having enough time to secure my mask back on before the Na'vi begin to force me to my feet once again.
"Kehe!" The tugging on my arms stops when the woman calls out to them. They quickly let go of me when she pushes them away. She gently grabs my face with a small frown as she turns it to the side. Her voice is soft as she ghosts her fingers over a spot on the side of my head. "You are hurt. Let me help you to Hometree. You will get treated once we are there."
I don't stop her when she awkwardly wraps her arms around my body. Being tentative not to touch at the base of my wings too much as she lifts me up. I close my eyes with a small sigh as I slowly grasp at her words. My voice hardly a whisper when I ask, "We're going to Hometree?"
She shushes me as she begins to run with the rest of the group. I hold onto her with a small whine from the motions, even if I wasn't seeing the sights that were passing us by.
Before long, the movements came to a stop as soft murmuring echoed around us. I open my eyes to see that we had finally made it to the Hometree of the Omatikayan people. Many of them gathered around as the group came to the center.
I gently get set down near Jake, leaning into his side as I sway just slightly on my feet. I take another breath as I hear a conversation happening between the woman and another member of the clan. Making out just bits of what each of them were saying in the broken haze of focus that I had.
"What is he saying?" Jake's voice sounds out like a sore thumb when he asks the question. Though I couldn't tell if he was asking me solely or if it extended to the woman as well.
"My father is deciding on whether to kill you both or not." I frown at the blunt explanation she gave at the question. I barely even had time to register that information when I felt Jake move slightly before yelling sounded and I got jostled around.
My eyes immediately shot open at the motion as my wings stretched out in a defensive manner. This had caused more yelling as Jake pulled me closer to his side. But all the noise stopped when another voice calls out for silence. Everyone shifts their gaze over to see the Tsahik stepping into the center of the circle.
I blink away at the dizziness that I feel when she stands in front of us. Taking a deep breath, I bring my hand up to my forehead as I do my best to greet her without messing up the pronunciation.
When I lifted my gaze back up to her, she had a small grin on her face. "I see you were taught some of our ways. Though I see that you might not know the language."
I look at her confused at what she had just said. Looking up at Jake, I speak in a soft voice, "I swear that I pronounced it right."
"You didn't say anything," Jake told me with a concerned expression.
I blink at him a couple of times before I pointed at him with a serious look. "I believe I have a concussion."
"You believe? What gave you that impression?" The sarcasm dripped from his voice as he looked back up at the Tsahik. My face scrunched up slightly before I looked back at her as well.
She slowly took out a knife that had been resting in her neckwear. She quickly stepped towards Jake as she stabbed into his chest. I cringed as she licked away the small bit of blood that was on it. She looked at Jake with a curious expression before she looked down at me again.
She was about to do the same thing until the younger Na'vi, presumably her daughter with what I was gathering, stopped her before the knife hit my chest. She gently took my hand and pointed to the center of my palm. "One touched here."
The Tsahik seemed slightly intrigued by the statement, but she didn't say anything. She gently poked her knife just enough to collect a small bit of blood on the tip before licking it way with a thoughtful look. She looked between us once more before she addressed the crowd. "The Dreamwalker and the... human, shall stay with us. They will learn of our ways and what it means to be Na'vi. We shall all watch them as they learn."
Multiple reactions sound through the crowd at the choice their Tsahik had made, but she didn't pay them any mind. Instead, she turned to her daughter while saying, "Take him to get out of his demon clothes. I will tend to the child."
"I'm in my 20s. I'm not a child," I spoke up at the comment about my age. I knew that compared to their size I probably wouldn't been seen as a full adult to them. But I had been expecting to be acknowledged as more than an adolescent.
Jake gave me a light pat on the shoulder before he reached into my bag and started rummaging around. "Let's get your head working right first before you argue how old you are. But you're going to use your inhaler first before you get out of my sight again."
I let out a sigh as he pulled my inhaler out and placed it in my hand. Nodding my head at his statement, I took a deep breath before lifting my mask back up and taking a couple of puffs of the medicine. I blink back my dizziness when I put my mask back into place.
Jake takes my inhaler from my hand and puts it back in my bag for me. He tilts my head up slightly so I look him in the eyes as he speaks again. "You do what she says so you get better. And don't fall asleep for at least a couple of hours so we make sure your actually okay."
"Yes, mother," I snark at him as the Tsahik gently grabbed my arm and began pulling me up the steps that they had for the tree. I was mostly nudged up the tree by her until she guided me into a small platform that was suspended between the branches. She guided me to sit down on what seemed to be a woven blanket. She moved around and collected a few plants and a small bowl before she began to grind them into a paste.
She never looked up from her task as she spoke to me in a soft tone. "You are not entirely human."
I shake my head with a bashful grin as I watch her mix the plants together. Leaning forward slightly as I try to get a better look at her process. "Everyone thinks that I have fairy blood or something. None of the scientists could really agree on one theory about my condition. Just that I had a mutation somewhere in my family tree or such."
"You used a human thing earlier. What is its purpose to you?" She continued speaking as she grabbed my chin to turn my head. Gently rubbing the paste against where I had hit my head.
I closed my eyes with a small sigh, enjoying the cool feeling on my skin. Humming softly as I think of how to explain it to her. "It's a medicine thing. I use it so I can breathe normal enough to go on day to day. A lot of humans have the same thing. I just have an extra special condition."
"You can't breathe your own air." Based on her tone, I knew she was making a statement and not asking. I opened my eyes as she removed her hands from my body. Watching as she went over to grab a few bandages and a small bowl like container.
I shook my head as she sat down next to me again. Watching as she applied a bit more of the paste to the bandages. "No. That's part of why I'm here. Grace had thought I could maybe breath the air here with the forests. But that was before everyone knew the air here was toxic to humans. But she still wants to see if I can handle. Grace wants to do a few test before we fully see if I can."
As I finished my explanation, she began to carefully wrap the bandages around my head. When she was done with that, she then grabbed the container and held it out to me. "Drink this. It will help with the pain and let you rest well through the night."
I wanted to argue that I shouldn't go to sleep anytime soon, but I stopped myself when she gave me a stern look. I took a few quick drinks as I repeatedly took my mask off so I could drink however much she saw fit. When all the liquid was gone, she finally took it from me with a small nod. Almost immediately after I put my mask back on for the last time, she began to guide me to lay down on the blanket.
I watch her walk around he area, organizing things as she went. My eyes started to flutter shut with passing second that I watched her before speaking up just slightly in the quiet space, "My name's (Y/n)."
I thought I saw her smile a little as she continued to move things around on a shelf. I heard her voice speak out one last time before I went to sleep. "You may call me Mo'at, (Y/n)."
I begin to wake up to sound of hushed giggles filtering in and out of my consciousness. With a small groan, I opened my eyes to see a group of children standing over me. As soon as they see me wake up, they let out small shrieks before running off towards the bottom of the tree. Effectively dodging Mo'at as she comes into the area with a small basket.
She smiles as the children run by before she comes back over to me and sits down. Immediately lifting me up into an upright position as she begins to undo the bandages on my head. "I see the children have already taken an interest in you."
I smile at her before glancing over at the stairs that lead down. "I guess they do. I'm just glad they aren't terrified of how I look."
"They are young. Your world makes them curious and they have never seen one of your people with your... characteristics."
I laugh softly at the last part of what she said. Looking back at Mo'at, I saw she had set aside the bandages that she put on my head last night. My gaze becoming a bit more serious as I noticed a small bit of blood had soaked into it.
"You are fine. The worst that might happen is a small scar," her voice was firm but gentle when she reassured me. Taking a few new bandages from her basket before rewrapping my head in a slightly more snug way than last night. When she was done, she gave my head a small pat before pushing the basket towards me. I noticed that it had a small arrangement of foods in it as she stood back up and moved over to a shelf. "Take the mask off so you eat. It's not of use to you if you can breathe the air."
"But we don't know if I can breathe the air. Grace hasn't done the test to see if I could." I quickly try to remind her that it was only a theory that I could live without the mask on Pandora. That I couldn't know for certain if it would possibly to even do it for even a short period of time.
"You seemed to do just fine with it being broken while you slept." My breath caught in my throat as I took in her sudden revelation.
I frantically grabbed the small oxygen tank to see that the capacity was at zero. Frantically taking off the mask, my gaze immediately fell on a small bit of glass that had broken off and leaving a small, but still noticeable, hole. I take a few small breaths to see if anything seemed off, but it all was normal as I kept taking deep breaths.
"I'm not dead," I utter in disbelief as I look back at her in confusion. My mouth hanging open as I try to piece together how that could have worked. "But... how?"
"I believe you had said something about 'fairy blood' last night. Or did you not really mean that when you told me?" Mo'at had a playful grin on her face as she glanced back over at me.
"I'm going to be perfectly honest here, after I fell off that branch last night, I don't remember much of anything. It's all a blur besides from getting here, your daughter Neytiri, and a very grumpy man who shouted a lot."
"Tsu'tey. That is the man you remember. Now eat," she spoke firmly once again before taking a few bottles from the shelf and setting down not to far from me.
I shuffled a little closer to the basket and pick out some of the fruit that was there. Taking small bites as I watch her work on refilling the herbs that she had begun to get low on. We just sat together in silence as she did her work. Occasionally, I would interrupt her work to offer her a piece of fruit that she would take with a ghost of a smile.
Our attention is soon drawn to the entrance when Jake and Neytiri come walking in. I bit back a laugh as I take in the sight of Jake, dressed in the traditional clothing and covered in mud with a few cuts here and there.
Jake immediately stops in his tracks when he looks at me with wide eyes. "Where's your mask at?!"
"It's broken." I give him a small shrug before I look over at Neytiri. Watching as she went over to her mother and motioned for Jake to come closer and sit.
"What do you mean it's broken?! How are you not dead?!" He continued standing there in disbelief. Completely ignoring the small glare Neytiri was giving him.
"I'm special or something like that." I grab another few pieces of fruit from the basket and hold my hand out for Mo'at and Neytiri. Mo'at takes a piece before Neytiri does the same with a small nod of her head.
Jake just continues to stare in disbelief as he moves over to sit down. I pass him a piece of fruit before giving him a small pat on his shoulder.
"I see he is learning well," Mo'at comments as she passes some herbs over to Neytiri.
"He's a skxawng," she responded before she crushed the leaves into small flakes before moving to rub it into his cuts.
"What does that mean?" Jake looks at Neytiri, hoping she would explain. When she ignored him, Jake looked over to me with a confused look.
"It means you're an idiot." I give Jake a smug grin when I answer his question. Eating another piece of fruit before I glance over at the entrance. Tensing up when I see the Olo'eyktan and the man known as Tsu'tey walking towards us. Lowering my gaze, I lean towards Jake and whisper to him, "Now, try not to be an idiot and keep your mouth shut when they walk in."
Jake rolls his eyes before looking at the two warriors as they walked into the area. I glance up at the two with a small frown on my face. They both look at me and Jake for a second with guarded looks on their face. The Olo'eyktan soon shifts his gaze over to Mo'at with a knowing look on his face as he tilts his head slightly towards the entrance. She nods her head in return before standing up. Mo'at affectionately brushes some hair out of Neytiri's face with a smile. Then she turned to me and softly pats my head before walking down the tree with her mate.
Once they leave, I look back at Tsu'tey to see him already giving me a small glare. I give him an awkward smile which only makes him scowl even more. "Demon," was all he said before looking back at Jake with an even deeper scowl.
"Hey there buddy boy," Jake playfully quips back as he begins trying to wipe off some of the mud on his chest with his bare hands. Though he didn't do much other than just smear the mud around as he smiled like an idiot.
"Accident," he continued to scowl as he looked Jake over. Clearly unammused by Jake's joking attitude.
"Aw. I think he likes you Jake. You should give him a big hug to become friends." I have a grin on my face as I look between the two men. Taking notice of how Neytiri looked shocked by my suggestion one time as I glanced towards Jake.
"He raises a hand towards me, I will cut him," Tsu'tey speaks in a menacing way as he glared at me.
"I know," I laugh a little as I stare straight back at him. Biting my lip as I try not to grin like an idiot at the shocked look on Tsu'tey's face.
"Okay, (Y/n). Reel in the manic for a minute. I think you're freaking them out with your humanly sense of humor." Jake slightly pushes my head in order to bring me back to the moment.
I roll my eyes with a small pout before picking up another piece of fruit from the forgotten basket. Popping it in my mouth and slowly chewing. Looking at the woven floor as I finally mumble something pointed towards Jake, "Virgin."
"What did it call me?!" My eyes widen as Tsu'tey reaches down and grabbed ahold of the front of my shirt. A small scream coming out of my mouth as Jake and Neytiri both shoot up from their spots. Both trying their hardest to get between us and remove me from his grasp.
It had been a little over a month since Jake and I had gotten to Hometree. He had been training hard as a warrior while I learned more about the plant life from the clan healers. Everything was going well for us as time went on, despite the bad start that I had with Tsu'tey. Though he seemed to be convinced that I was in fact talking about Jake and not him after I explained a few human customs that were common among friends.
Jake even had enough approval within the clan that he was able to get Grace to be able to visit. She was shocked about the fact that I hadn't been wearing my mask since we had gotten there. But she was very happy that I was thriving in the environment like she had always wanted for me. She even told me that in another month, I might finally have a viable Avatar to use if I still wanted it even though I apparently could live without it.
But living amongst the Na'vi didn't mean that everything from my life before them stopped. Especially with my unique genetic makeup.
I went over to Jake as he ate breakfast with Neytiri and Tsu'tey. He looked over at me with a smile as I nervously sat down near the group. "Well good morning. You normally don't come and join our group until it's around time for lunch."
I fidget with my fingers as I look at the group, glancing at everyone until I focus on Jake again. "I need your help with something. And I'm only asking because your a good friend and I have to do this today."
Jake's expression becomes serious as he looks over at Neytiri and Tsu'tey. They both appear confused as well when they look at me for an explanation.
I look down at the ground as I bite my lip. My face heating up as I quickly tell them what was wrong. "I'm molting."
"That's it?" Jake seems in disbelief at what I told him. He even laughed a little as he leaned closer to try and get me to look at him again. "That's not too big of a deal. I'm sure you'll be okay."
I glare up at him as I stare him down. Taking a deep breath as I begin to further explain to him the situation. "It is a big deal. I can molt for multiple days sometimes, but I need to get as much taken care of the first day. If not, I could get infections and intense back pains that could last for months. And that's on top of the pain I can normally feel due to having wings."
The smile on his face faded away as I kept talking. His eyes becoming apologetic as he let's out a sigh. "I didn't know it was that big of a deal. Are you sure it has to be today?"
"I'm very sure. Once when I was in high school, I waited two days because I had to focus on studying for some stupid geometry final. When I finally got it taken care of, over half my feathers were gone, molted and perfectly healthy ones. It took months for them all to grow back and I couldn't even sit up in my bed without having someone help me for weeks."
Jake nods his head a little with a serious look in his eyes. "Tell me what you need help with."
"Thank you," I softly mumble as I sit with my back facing him. Slightly spreading my wings for him to have an easier time with helping me. I take a deep breath as I begin to lightly guide my fingers through the feathers. "You just basically brush them with your fingers and let the bad ones fall out. If there are any that are loose but not coming out yet, leave them be. They probably just need a little time to be ready."
It took a few moments, but I finally felt Jake start to work on the back of my wings. I could tell he was hesitant to do it because he didn't want to cause me any pain. As the time went on and I didn't tell him that it was hurting, he began to get a little more confident with each movement.
There was a decent amount of feathers laying around me when I took a small break to look around. Stopping my gaze when I noticed a group of children looking over at me from around a corner a little ways from us. Most of them a little older with what seemed to be their younger siblings. They kept pointing as they whispered to one another. But one little girl stood out as she just stared in awe while looking between the pile of feather and my face.
I smiled a little as I reached my hand out, gesturing for her to come closer. She seemed a little taken aback by my action, but soon smiled as she quickly walked over. She immediately sat down beside me, leaning against my body as she excitedly reached a hand up to touch one of my horns.
"Aen'ya!" Neytiri trys to scold the girl, but I raise my hand to let her know it was fine. Neytiri looked at me with a sympathetic like look. "She is very trusting. But she also still needs to learn to keep her space."
"She's okay. Kids back on Earth would do the same thing. I'm just glad one of the children is doing something other than just pointing from a distance." I smile at Aen'ya as I speak, happy to be a part of her child like excitement. I gently take her hand and she looks spooked by the contact. But she keeps smiling as I move her to sit on one of my legs and hand her some of my discarded feathers.
As she takes them out of my hand, I look back at the small group to see them all looking back in awe. I wave my hand at them to come join as Aen'ya starts to randomly place feathers into my hair. A few of them start to laugh as the excitedly push each other closer as a couple others run off in the opposite direction.
Soon the group comes and sits down closer by as they lightly reach out and touch my wings. They are extra gentle as they laugh with each little handful of fluff they managed to pull out. By the time they have their own little piles, the others that had run off return with their arms full of strings and a couple of baskets full of other little supplies to do whatever they had planned. Passing everything around as a few of them began to hold up a combination of beads they had to my skin with little giggles.
"Wow. You look like you got dragged into a second grade art class," Jake lightly snickered as he leaned back into his original spot once the kids took over for him to get a couple more feathers.
I make a face at him which causes the children to start laughing. But the seem to take his words as an invitation, because a couple of them grab his arms and pull him to sit on the ground. A couple even go the extra mile and do the same thing with Neytiri and Tsu'tey. Neytiri seemed happy with it as she began to help them with what they each were making. Tsu'tey most just sat there with a soft scowl on his face, but he would pay attention to any of the children if they held up something for him to look over.
We all just sit there laughing with one another as the children continue to work on their projects. But soon one of the boys grabs my arm to hold it still as two girls begin tying something around my bicep. I look at it confused until I realized that they had made me an accessory with beads and a couple of my feathers hanging down. Then a few others do the same thing as they tie an anklet on me with wide grins.
I take a look at both pieces of jewelry to see just how uniquely beautiful they were. Smiling as I open my arms out to pull each of them into a hug as a thank you. They all laugh as they begin to lean into my arms for one big hug.
A warm feeling came into my chest as I just held all the children close to me. Staring at each of them as a sense of peace washes over me. Similar to the feeling I had when I watched the movies when I was young. The feeling that I had finally found the place that I truly belong.
~~~
Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed this little installment. I'm glad for my first request and I'm going to start working on a few other add ons for Silent Treatment and Aggressive Caregiver (I need a masterlist at some point). But have a good day and remember; We are bad bitches, and bad bitches follow boycotting to the fullest. Don't actively give any money to Disney for anything. We're smart and kind people who were raised on revolutions that Disney wrote. I'm sure we can pirate movies from someplace or have the DVDs for the movies. Do your part as best you can. I love you all and stay happy for the year to come.
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