IT'S SO CUTE💜💜💜💜 !!!!!

Reblog In 5 seconds for good luck

GIVE ME IDEAS PLEASE IM SO LOST ON WHAT TO DO RN FOR MY POSTING

sure. resending. basically vander successfully drowns silco to keep the peace only for a few days later for some kid who turns out to be silco's child comes to the last drop saying their daddy hasn't been by for a while and told them if anything ever happened to go find "A nice man named vander at a place called the last drop...."

-Thanks for the resend and sorry again for Tumblr's bullshit broken system 😒 Now onto the ANGST and I am so fucking sorry this took so long

**CW for darker subjects including: drowning, accidental murder, implied strangulation **

There were three days of silence, save for the ticking clock, the constant murmuring heartbeat of the city outside and occasional muffled sobs. Three days of drinking himself unconscious trying to chase away the demons, only to have them haunt his nightmares and awakening to start the cycle over again.

One lone man sat slumped at a corner booth of the empty barroom, a spent bottle next to his ragged form and another clutched in his shaking hand. His hair and clothing were a disheveled mess, his hands still raw and red from scrubbing them dozens of times. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, stared ahead into nothing, trying to avoid closing them for too long because every time he did he could see him-

Flailing, eyes wide in terror and shock, struggling and clawing at the water, at anything his slender hands could reach, streams of bubbles ripped from his throat as they and he slowed and slowed until-

Groans morphing into hiccups and quiet sniffles, he lowered his forehead to the table, his thoughts a howling whirlwind of guilt and fury; at himself, at him, at all of this. Try as he might he couldn't get the images, the screams out his head...

He was gone; his best friend, his brother, drowned by his own hands after months of disagreement, arguing and eventually back-stabbing had resulted in one final fight, fueled by blind rage and frustration. It had been a horrible accident; he hadn't meant to, hadn't wanted to go so far, he just wanted him to shut up and listen for once but he'd held onto him underwater just a little too long, squeezed just a little too hard-he clutched his hair then with a roar of despair, whirled to fling the bottle at a wall where it exploded in a shower of glittering shards and liquor before collapsing back to his seat, now sobbing outright...

"I-I'm sorry Silco...I'm so...so s-sorry..."

On the fourth day, waking up on the floor of the sparse bathroom next to a puddle of vomit that'd missed the toilet and a searing headache, he lay staring at the ceiling for some time before deciding he had to make some sort of effort. After he acceptably cleaned up the mess he dragged himself into the tub, hissing and cursing as the cold water ran over his sore, tired and dirty body.

He tried not to think too hard about the water.

On the fifth day, realizing if he didn't get the bar up and running again he'd likely lose it from lack of funds, he shuffled into the main room and began slowly to pick up the chairs he'd knocked over or thrown and sweep up the broken glass. A lot of folks relied on this place for a warm, decently safe refuge from the outside world, somewhere they could get a drink and find some sort of comrade among the other customers. News, gossip, business transactions, tall tales, all of these and more flowed through the place like the alcohol that was served, creating a sort of haven for the people of the Lanes, rough as it could be. Losing it would letting them all down, and he just couldn't bear the thought of that. He'd let people down enough for two lifetimes already.

He paused frequently, taking deep breaths and trying to calm the storm still threatening in his mind. The raging, boiling despair of the past days had partially given way to a sort of creeping numbness that was gradually seeping into his very bones. He wasn't sure if it was better or worse. What he did know, was that it had happened and it couldn't be taken back. He had considered seriously the notion of turning himself in to the authorities and spending the rest of his life rotting in prison, he deserved it, but then remembered how much people still looked up to and relied on him...if he did that even more would suffer, thus he was stuck now with the gift and burden of what he'd worked to become.

There was no way to remedy things, make amends for what he'd done, but perhaps...he could do what was possible to continue the dream of a better, safer, more independent city for everyone else.

As he worked he thought he heard a faint knocking at the front door. At first he was sure he'd imagined it, but then he heard it again, and again until eventually a small, insistent voice joined in. Sighing, he leaned his broom against a table and slowly made his way there. No doubt a child was looking to either try and sell him something, or play a joke, or ask for their parents when the place would reopen. He had not the strength or patience for any of these but regardless unlocked and cracked the door open. Immediately he spotted a small girl on the doorstep who couldn't have been more than six, her slender frame swimming in clothes that were a couple sizes too large and her auburn hair pulled back with a length of silk ribbon. But it was her eyes that truly grabbed his attention; pale blue-green and oddly intense, they caught his and didn't let go.

"...Can...I help ya?" he muttered after an awkward moment of staring at each other.

She took a couple steps back to look upwards at the building, gave an assured nod, then approached him again, "You're Vander, right?"

Vander tilted his head, immediately regretting it with the headache he still had, "I am...and who might you be? This ain't exactly a place for kids."

She fished around in the inner pocket of her coat; it looked like it had once been a fine piece, likely belonging to some well-off child topside, but was now worn and patched, the brick-red wool faded to a dull brown. Her pants and shirt were of similar condition; it seemed someone had put considerable effort into clothing her in the finest castoffs they could manage. Finding what she wanted, she straightened herself and held out an envelope with an air of grave importance.

"My name is Olivia, and I was told to come here by my papa if I didn't see him for more than four days. He told me to find the Last Drop and a nice guy named Vander and to give him this letter."

She recited all this with a practised tone, as if she'd gone over it dozens of times. Vander's brow furrowed; what was all this? Some sort of prank? A trap? Who had sent her? And why him? Who did he know that had a daughter? All these questions swirled in his fogged brain until he spied several men nearby leering curiously at Olivia. He clutched the doorframe a little harder; he didn't like the look in their beady eyes whatsoever.

Whatever the reason for her showing up she wasn't safe out here, and with the tiniest, faintest flame reignited in his heavy heart he opened the door wider, "C'mon love...it's gettin' cold out. I'll get you something hot to drink 'n we'll get this sorted out yeah?"

Soon Olivia was seated at a table, sipping a mug of weak but much appreciated hot chocolate as Vander sat across from her and turned the letter over repeatedly in his hands, trying to glean some sort of clue from the outside alone. The only mark on it was a neat 'V' in the center in bold, black ink. He glanced up at this mystery child, again wondering what in the world this was all about and with a reluctant sigh, tore the seal off and unfolded the couple-page length letter.

The moment he saw the handwriting the air was knocked from his lungs. The quick, graceful pen strokes and neatly straight sentences across unlined paper were instantly recognizable even before he'd registered a single word...but then his eyes traitorously began reading on their own and he couldn't tear them away.

"Vander; I despise sounding cliche, however if you're reading this, it means I am either somehow incapacitated, or tragically, I've met my end. In either case, I'm certain you're wondering who the girl is that gave it to you. There's no point in playing games or sugarcoating things, so to cut to the chase, this is my daughter, Olivia-"

'My daughter'

Here Vander stopped reading for a moment, of all the words scrawled on the page to tear at his heart those nearly made it stop. Silco had...a daughter? He pried his gaze from the paper to glance up at Olivia, feeling dizzy and sick all over again. Her attention seemed to be focused on the jukebox at the moment, those bright blue-green eyes wide with curiosity. Her father's eyes...

Vander shut his own tightly, drawing a slow, deep breath before reopening them to continue reading.

"-who as of my writing this is nearly six. If you're wondering how, I trust you recall the time we decided it would be great fun to visit that new brothel in Piltover just over the bridge? In a moment of youthful weakness I, well, even you can figure it out. I put it out of my mind entirely until several months ago, when a woman approached me with Olivia in tow, insistent I was her father. Of course I didn't believe a word of it, and called in a favor to have a test performed to prove it...and much to my shock it was true. I'm still trying to sort out my thoughts on this whole matter. Gods know I'm no man to be a father. Though, I must confess, my fondness for her has increased greatly these past months. She is a highly intelligent and inquisitive child, with a natural instinct for problem solving and a strong sense of justice. Paternal feelings are not something I'd ever expected to experience, yet here I am. I'm certain you're wondering many things right now, first of which why I haven't told you until now-"

Here the pen appeared to have stopped, multiple dots and specks of ink seeming to indicate he had been tapping it on the page as he paused to consider his next words. Vander felt his eyes well at the mental image of Silco sitting at a table or desk, chin resting in one hand as he tapped his pen and stared at the paper, Olivia curled up asleep in his lap clutching a puzzle toy. He exhaled mournfully, blinking the tears away and continued reading.

"-At first I didn't quite know how to, but then I concluded it would be best for all if her existence was kept quiet. We've become successful Vander, perhaps too much in some ways. We have our enemies, and can't risk them learning of anything, or anyone, that could be used against us. The less people knew about her the better. Secondly, about her mother well, she's not the reliable sort, and often vanishes from their meager apartment without a word or even a note. I question how much she truly loves Olivia versus how much she enjoys holding my purse ransom for her care. She's been disappearing more lately, which brings me to the most critical part of this letter. I need to do something to ensure her safety and wellbeing, even if I can't be there personally. I know we've been at odds for some time, but should you still hold any affection for me-"

Vander had to stop again for a moment to gather himself, pressing his knuckles to his mouth. Of course he did...but did he have any right to? He could hear Silco's voice in his head, narrating the words as clearly as if he was standing over his shoulder right now. For a brief, mad second he was certain if he looked, he really would be there, those bright eyes he'd gifted his child boring critically into him.

Now Olivia noticed, and blinked at him, "Are you okay mister?"

Vander let out a quick gasp, wrung from his dark thoughts and trying to force a smile, "Y-yeah sweetie just...was thinkin'. Gimme a moment gotta finish readin'..."

"-I ask you, with utmost sincerity, to do this one, vitally important task-I need you to bring her to her grandparents in Piltover, where she'll be safe and well cared for. I've included the address at the bottom of this page. Her mother refuses to do this out of stupidity and stubborn pride, but since she refuses to be a proper mother, I must be a better father and I know the grandparents would be thrilled to take her in. I have included a second letter for her to give to them explaining all relevant matters so you needn't worry about talking to them more than strictly necessary, if at all. Lastly, as for explaining to Olivia what's become of me, be honest. If I am locked away, tell her. If I am dead, be gentle, but tell her. Better her heart is broken now so she has more time for it to heal. Please do this for me, brother, and for her. She deserves the chance we never had, and if all my efforts in this world amount to lifting this one child from the muck and poison, then I can leave it with pride. Farewell, for now, or forever, and thank you for everything. -Silco"

Vander sat and gaped in stunned silence at the paper in his trembling hands. Would he help her? Without question. He'd utterly failed Silco already, and though helping his daughter wouldn't erase his sins or bring the man back, at least he could honor him by fulfilling his last request. That numbness had cracked, letting the howling storm of grief back in, especially when he dared look up to find Olivia staring at him in both concern and curiosity and had to look away again; her eyes, so alike Silco's, were too much to bear right now.

"What...does it say?" at length she wondered, "Does it say when mama or papa will be back?"

"I-" Vander choked, coughing out a breath then took a slow, deep one to steady himself, sniffling back more tears. The girl's face fell, seeming to understand his expression and Vander winced as she spoke again, quietly with a wavering voice.

"...Did...something happen to them...?"

"Sweet'art, I-I don't know 'bout your mom, but...but your dad...he..." Vander swallowed the lump in his throat preventing him speaking, forcing himself to look at the girl with every thread of calm sincerity he could muster; she deserved that much, "He's..."

Some time later, Vander gazed hollowly out a window, watching the raindrops occasionally spatter against it as he slowly blew puffs of smoke into the still air. He glanced at the small figure dozing fitfully and curled into a ball in a nearby booth. He had honored Silco's wish. He told her the truth...but not the whole story. She was grief-stricken and traumatized enough; telling her the man her father had trusted, the one sitting across from her and from whom she expected help and protection was the one that had taken his life wasn't something he could put her through. Perhaps someday he would tell her the rest, and should she choose to take revenge, well, he wouldn't blame her.

After hearing the grim news she had thrown herself onto him, seeking comfort and burrowing into his broad chest as she sobbed, but he'd been unable to return more than gingerly 'hugging' her with his forearms. Holding her with the same hands that had killed her father seemed, at the moment, far too cruel. She'd then crawled into a booth and eventually cried herself to sleep, so he'd taken up a vigil and draped his jacket over her for extra warmth. A small comfort perhaps, but one he could stomach easier.

Now she suddenly stirred and awoke, rubbing her red, swollen eyes and sniffling as she clutched the heavy leather garment around herself. Neither spoke, and Vander stood, going behind the bar and fetching a soft cloth and a dented cup, pouring the cleanest water he had into it. He then brought the items to Olivia, who took the cup with a whispered thanks. He gently dabbed her eyes and nose, cleaning her up the best he could.

She glanced at him with glassy, scared eyes then the floor, "...What's gonna happen now...?"

Vander hesitated for a second before laying his hand on the letter, "Don't worry, Olivia...I'm gonna take ya to your grandparents, safe 'n sound. You'll be a'right...your papa made certain of that."

She only nodded, still sniffling as Vander stood, "I'll be right back love, then we'll head out so we can get there b'fore dark. Ain't safe after dark..."

Vander adjusted his vest and pulled his overcoat a little tighter around himself to ward off the evening chill, keeping a close eye on his charge as she trotted beside him, and ignored all the sharply curious glances they received. He had changed into a set of more 'respectable' clothes he kept stashed away for whenever a trip topside was necessitated and he didn't want to draw any attention to himself. Well, once they crossed the bridge anyway; down in the Lanes still they garnered quite the variety of looks. Olivia's small fist was balled tightly around the hem of his coat as she kept close, and soon, after climbing flights of cracked stone and metal stairs and taking a rickety elevator, they found themselves on the surface level just as the hazy, clouded sun was sinking into the horizon. The drizzling rain had stopped for the time being, with a blanket of fog settled over the area. Vander strode down the muddy, trash-littered road leading to the bridge when he felt an insistent tugging at his pant leg, and looked to see Olivia gazing longingly up at him.

"What's the matter, sweet'art?" he inquired, and she stretched her thin arms toward him, "I'm tired...please?"

In an instant he realized what she was asking but this time, instead of feeling ill at the thought, although a stab of shame still coursed through him he was overcome by a sort of mournful bitter sweetness. Here was the daughter of his friend, a friend now heartbreakingly gone but here in front of him was a part of them. He couldn't apologize, make amends, but he could do this much.

'...if all my efforts in this world amount to lifting this one child from the muck and poison...'

Mustering a reassuring smile, he gently scooped her into his arms, holding her securely to his chest and shoulder and she curled herself into him with a content, if not equally melancholy, sigh.

In this way he made his way to and across the long, imposing structure, the fog obscuring then completely hiding the dark and toxic city behind them as he carried her toward a better life than her father ever had...

EPILOGUE:

Some time late in the night, Vander stood in the bathroom with his hands braced on the sink, staring blankly into the mirror at his exhausted and scruffy face. Dark blueish bags hung under his tired eyes and he could see the grey beginning to creep into his hair and messy beard. Insomnia and vivid nightmares had again claimed any attempt to sleep, so after pacing the empty building he'd ended up here.

Giving his reflection a disgusted snort he grumbled, "You're a right fuckin' mess..."

He turned the faucet on, gathering a palm-full of water to splash on his face and reflecting on the shock and emotional rollercoaster of the day. Silco had had a daughter he'd known nothing of until she appeared at his door, and though not her fault had only helped to deepen the wounds of guilt and shame in him. Still...

He recalled now showing up at the home of her grandparents, though clearly being not especially wealthy were quite comfortable, and how the older couple were obviously overjoyed to see Olivia and grateful to the man who introduced himself as a friend of her father's for bringing her there safely. Though they didn't speak much Vander realized they were well aware of their daughter's...unpredictability and Olivia would benefit from staying with them. The last he saw of her, and likely would ever, was when she waved to him and expressed her thanks before being led into the house.

He'd fulfilled his duty in escorting her safely there, not that it should have ever been under the circumstances it was. He had to grip the sink again as one more question crossed his thoughts, one she had every right to know but one he was praying she wouldn't ask and that just dug the knife further into his heart. While making their way through Piltover Olivia had abruptly asked what had happened to her papa.

"....He drowned..." had been his only reply, and seemingly satisfied the girl fell quiet again.

"...and it's my fault..." he now whispered to the empty air, scooping up another handful of water.

Before he could douse his face however, he felt a sudden and violent chill start at the base of his spine, and as it raced up his back all the hair on his body stood with it. A wave of creeping dread followed and he slowly lowered his hand, the water falling through his fingers to splash in the sink and onto the floor...wait. There was so much water on the cracked tile where had it...?

Then he was aware of something else...a presence of sorts, the sensation that someone was there, just at the edge of your conciousness. Braving the slightest upward glance-he quickly dropped his gaze back to the sink, nauseous and terrified to look up fully at the reflection he could just see in the mirror behind him out of the corner of his eye and certain he'd finally gone mad.

Silco stood there, ghostly pale, soaking wet with water dripping from his hair and clothing and glowering at him. A ring of dark bruises encircled his neck, and his hair clung to his face such that his left eye was barely visible-but the right absolutely burned with fury.

After the initial shock, shaking and heart hammering, Vander addressed him, "If you're...here to kill me too...I know I deserve it..."

Silco remained silent, unmoving except for the eerily unnecessary rise and fall of his chest with his 'breathing'. Vander felt his own chest tighten with the continued confusion and horror of this situation coupled with the guilt of what he'd done. He tried another line of conversation.

"Silco the-there's a million things I could, that I wanna say but it all feels...inadequate and stupid. You're gone and nothin' I do or say will change that. I...I'm so sorry..." his throat tightened but he coughed to clear it, a jumble of words he needed to say flooding out, "I wish ya'd told me 'bout Olivia...she's somethin' special. But especially now I understand why ya didn't...ya know what fucks with me? That not only did I-I take your life but I took the time ya coulda had with her...gods I-"

He drew several deep, calming breaths, unfair as it felt before continuing, "I did what ya asked. She's with her family, and they'll see to it she's well loved..if she's half as smart 'n resilient as you she'll really be somethin' one day..."

He dared to look upwards, feeling he owed Silco that much, "...And if she ever comes seekin' answers or justice, I'd rightfully give 'em to her..."

Vander saw his expression had gone from cold rage to still angry, but now blended with almost a regretful sadness. He gave the slightest nod, then slowly raised a hand as if to reach out to him...

And suddenly Vander couldn't breathe. He panicked, coughing and gasping for air, then braced himself on the sink before collapsing to his hands and knees. Falling onto his side, his vision swam with the water that filled his lungs and eyes and the image of Silco standing over him as he lost consciousness-

He awoke with a strangled, terrified shout and bolted upright, grasping at his neck and heaving in deep breaths, the realization that it had been a nightmare gradually settling in. Though that one had been a figment of his guilt-ridden imagination, the true nightmare of reality, of having to live every day with the knowledge and weight of what he'd done would be neverending. Eventually, he fell back into the sagging and worn mattress, staring at the wall and knowing sleep would likely allude him the remainder of the night.

I’ve seen a lot of posts on my dash tonight about users who are threatening suicide, with other Tumblr members posting in effort to try to get ahold of them. I think you all should see this:

IF THERE IS EVER A TUMBLR USER WHO HAS POSTED A GOOD-BYE MESSAGE, SUICIDE NOTE, VIDEO, OR ANYTHING OF THE SORT, PLEASE FOLLOW THIS POST.

1. Scroll to the top of your dashboard.

2. See the circular question mark icon at the top? It’s the third one over from your home symbol. Click on that, and a screen similar to the one in the picture will come up.

3. Where you can type in questions, the box with the magnifying glass at the top, type in the word “suicide.”

4. Click on the first link that shows up. It should say, “Pass the URL of the blog on to us.”

5. Type in the user’s URL and tell Tumblr admin that the user is contemplating suicide and has posted a message indicating that they are going through with it or will be attempting. Hit send! Tumblr administration will perform a number of actions to contact the user and take the necessary steps to prevent the suicide.

TUMBLR: THIS COULD SAVE A USER’S LIFE. PLEASE DO NOT IGNORE SUICIDE THREATS.

Reblog this to keep other users aware. Suicide isn’t a joke, and neither is someone’s life. If you didn’t know this, someone else may not, either. Pass it on.

Never Comin" Home Pt.3

past!Neytiri x reader - Ronal x reader

Description: After a rough day you find out your kids have been causing mischeif with the Sully kids leading to you having to take over their training as well

WARNINGS: none...

PART 1 PART 2

Y/N POV

As Ronal finishes dinner for the night the kids run in arguing, a sigh falls from my lips as I try and prepare myself for whatever it is they are disagreeing about. I set the knife I was sharpening down and look at them "and whats the issue?"

Ronal sets the food down on our small table while Ao'nung starts "Tsireya has a crush on the forest boy and-" he's cut off by Tsireya smacking the back of his head "I do not!"

I clench my jaw but patiently wait for their bickering to stop, after a few minutes and a stressed out look from my mate I stand up "enough! speak one at a time. Tsireya, you first"

Ao'nung rolls his eyes but stops talking as Tsireya looks at me "I was just talking with Lo'ak after our lessons and Ao'nung came over and started making fun of him. After a while of them arguing back and forth Lo'ak punched him-"

Ronal quickly cuts her off "i'm sorry what?"

I sigh and walk over resting my hand on her back "let her finish my love"

Tsireya huffs but continues "He punched him because he kept calling Kiri a freak and was also making fun of him!"

My gaze shifts from my daughter to my son who's standing there staring at the ground "that true?'

He mumbles a quiet yes while avoiding eye contact, I pinch the bridge of my nose while Ronal shakes her head while getting some pastes to help his bruises

I look at Tsireya and nod with a small smile on my face, she smiles back and sits down to start eating

After Ao'nung finishes getting his bruises helped he walks over and takes his spot at the table next to me and across from Tsireya who sits next to Ronal

I say without looking up from the table "I'll help your sister train them" I shake my head when I hear Ao'nung let out a small "thank Eywa"

I look at him "but your apologizing-" he groans making me shake my head "your apologizing, there is no reason to disrespect them."

He scoffs and looks at me "why are you so adamant on protecting them? they are freaks! they have five fingers dad! demon blood runs through their veins!"

Ronal smacks the table "ao'nung! enough!"

He shakes his head and looks at her "no! and you- what's up with you hm? you trail behind dad like a baby- like someones gonna take them from you! since they've shown up you've both been acting so weird!"

She stares at Ao'nung shocked, he's never disrespected her let alone yelled at her

Tsireya watches with wide eyes as Ronal stands up and storms off to our room

I sigh and speak up "I know them...Obviously-" i gesture to my body that's the same shade of blue as the Sully's "I'm Omatikaya"

Ao'nung scoffs sitting back in his chair while crossing his arms "so what? some old friends of yours show up from the past and mom is just insecure"

I snap "enough! do not disrespect my mate like that do you understand?"

He stares at me shocked for a second before slowly nodding "sorry..."

I huff nodding and continue on with what I was saying "they weren't just friends...well Neytiri wasnt.." Both of my kids watch me confused "Before Jake showed up me an- me and Neytiri were in a relationship..we were together four years before he showed up, she fell in love with him...and I caught them together so I broke up with her and that's when I came here and met your mom" I smile at the memory of meeting Ronal for the first time

Tsireya stares at me for a second "so...that's why mom is acting weird?"

I nod setting my hand on Ao'nungs shoulder "yup..and you mister have to now not only apologize to the Sully's but also to your mother"

He sighs but nods and starts eating

-TIME SKIP NEXT DAY-

Y/N POV

I wake up early that morning and roll over to wrap my arms around Ronal just to find her spot cold, my eyes snap open and I sit up looking around to see our room empty

I stand up stretching and walk out and to the main area of our mauri, I walk up behind her wrapping my arms around her waist and resting my hands on her stomach "good morning ma'yawne"

A frown overtakes my face when she moves out of my arms and mumbles out a "goodmorning"

"you okay..?" she nods and grabs her small bag and leaves after kissing my cheek

I watch her confused but get dressed anyways and head to the Sully's mauri

When I walk in everyone looks over at me, Neytiri nudges the boys who stand up and walk over to me with bowed heads

Lo'ak starts "i'm sorry for starting a fight with your son"

Neteyam nods and continues "it wont happen again we promise"

That's when I realize they think i'm here to get onto them about the fight with Ao'nung, another realization comes over me that my son didn't come apologize last night like I told him to.

I look between both of the very nervous boys "did Ao'nung not come and apologize last night?"

They look at each other and then their parents, Jake stands up and walks over to me "he didn't...but my son was the one who started the fight. he should be the one to apologize"

I shake my head no with a small chuckle "no..he deserved it. he had no right calling your kids freaks"

Jake stares at me confused "wait...why are you here?"

"I'm going to be helping my daughter with the lesson's so I came to get them"

He lets out a sigh of relief and nods "okay...all four of you- off you go"

I smile at the kids and start walking to the beach smiling as the kids talk amongst themselves

-DURING LESSON-

I watch as the kids play around with eachother and Tsireya, the oldest...Neteyam? more like Neytiri made over. I've noticed how almost everything he does and says reminds me of her.

Kiri..there is something about her that's special..sweet kid, that's what she is...grumpy, but sweet

Lo'ak? Nah Jake Jr. I may have only known Jake for 3 months but I was very close to him in those months and I can confidently say that he is Jake made over. Nothing wrong with that..I guess...

And little Tuk..the sweetest little girl i've ever met. Definitely remind's me of Neytiri when we were younger. I smile as Tsireya takes her on a ride on her Ilu.

I feel someone sit down next to me and I look over to see Ronal, she lays her head on my shoulder while letting out a deep sigh

I smile and wrap my arm around her "you okay?" she nods closing her eyes

I kiss the top of her head and go back to watching the kids, the kids i've know for an hour but have somehow made themselves a place in my heart...yeah...those kids are special...

TAGS

@fanboyluvr @lemonmoonmochi @dhzjnzi @audigay @arminsgfloll @khaleesihavilliard @kodzukenwhore @perfectprofessorloverapricot @thefandomswhre @my-skeleton-hats @insanitycrimes @shadowmoonlight0604 @zatarias-pandora @cleverzonkwombatsludge @milf-lover-23 @danielyharstom @lovekeeho @thispussyshouldcomew @kiriswifejayden @sovereignsylvia @ssc7514 @danielyharstom @tejas-kris @ducks118 @tsireyak @ilovejakesullysdick @destinylb @drunkscientists @neteyamforlife @yoongicookies @1ntefly

Alice and Bella are like: 'Alice' don't do shit 'bella' OK OK I won't

Demiteri be looking at bella like: my next meal tonight

Felix is just in the back like: why am I here

Jane is like: I will kill you all if you keep this shit up

Edward reading all of their minds except bellas: OK now wtf is wrong with y'all

#awkward

heartbreak

the mushka experience

music: Mario Paint OST - BGM 1