#HAMMOCK!! AHH!!

[sysig]

Always Webkinzing (Patreon)

[oneheda]

hello !! may i ask a neteyam fic wherein nete has been trying to win the reader's (s/o) affection again for days and reader just saying "hmp" or ignoring him because of something that he did that made her feel upset :-P silly && comfort pls! :3c

THE RISK. | ➶ neteyam sully

── .✦ a: ONE-SHOT

w.c: 3.9k

pairing: neteyam x fem!na’vi!reader (aged up characters for plot purposes!)

story description: ever since olo'eyktan training cruelly took away a significant amount of time with you, neteyam has been desperately trying to win back your warmth and affection after he’s met with cold steel from your hurt. his longing for your touch and care only deepened from within as time and your silent resentment—a reflection of the quiet yearning that had you undoubtedly tethered to him—had kept you two apart.

contains: established relationship, slight angst that ends with silly fluff (lots!) <3, or otherwise known as hurt/comfort, teyam’ gifting you tons of flowers, him being obsessed with you, calling you yawne a lot, you guys’ chasing each other, falling into a river, being wet (oh.) and in love!!

warning(s): quite suggestive towards the end, but still very PG! 😏

a/n: omg this request is soooo cute and such an imaginable trope for neteyam, given that we all know if he stayed in omatikaya he’d be so busy training for olo’eyktan likeeee? i’ve read so many one-shots with the reader being mad at him before, and him making up for it, and i loved every single one. so, i’m so excited to try this one out in my writing style and mind! +while planning this i kept thinking about—what would you as his omatikayan lover be like? wouldn’t you be hesitant about falling too deep in love with him, knowing you’d miss his busy ahh sooo bad because he’s away like almost all the time? isn’t that risky? seriously, kudos to all those who take that risk IRL fr. ✊🏻

It started with flowers. Not just one or two, but a small, growing pile of them. Each time you turned around, there’d be another tucked behind your ear, balanced on your hammock, woven into a little bracelet left near your food.

Neteyam had been relentless in his attempts to win back your affection over the past few days. It wasn’t as though you didn’t love him because you did, with every fiber of your being. But you were still upset about the argument you’d had earlier in the week. The argument arose from the widening distance between you, a gap carved by the relentless demands of his role as the future Olo’eyktan. You nodded as he explained, telling him you understood—because you truly did. Every decision he made was for the good of the clan, for a future that included you, too. But understanding didn’t soften the ache in your chest. It didn’t quiet the longing for the moments that used to be yours alone.

You didn’t want to seem selfish, didn’t want to feel like a burden, like someone relegated to the edges of his life. But how could you not yearn for him when he was the very heart of your own?

You didn’t need grand gestures or impossible promised, just to feel like you mattered, like the bond you shared wasn’t something easily pushed aside. It wasn’t too much to hope for, was it? If it was, he shouldn’t have assured you that time would always find a way to make room for the two of you.

He shouldn’t have told you he could love you without limits.

Still, you weren’t angry, just quietly hurt. So, you let him sit with the weight of your silence for a little while longer, unsure if he truly understood how deeply you longed for his presence. If he cared, he would be honest. He would decide whether he could meet you where you stood or not.

And Neteyam, true to form, was determined to make the effort.

At communal dinner, he hovered like a shadow, his golden eyes constantly flicking toward you. You pretended not to notice, focusing instead on your food, the stars overhead, and occasionally the random crack in the floor. Anywhere but his face. Neteyam, however, was not easily giving in. With a deep breath, he reached over, gently prying your hands apart from where they were clasped in your lap. His large, warm palms enveloped yours, his thumbs brushing softly against your skin. You stiffened but didn’t pull away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of melting under his touch.

“Yawne (beloved),” he whispered, voice low enough that only you could hear over the chatter of the gathering. His brows knit together in concern. “Are you still upset? I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it right. Just give me time for a few weeks.��

But your only response was a soft huff as you turned your attention to your plate. His ears drooped slightly, and his shoulders sagged, but he didn’t give up.

Neteyam had taken to foraging during his hunting trips, returning with blooms in every color he could find. Each one seemed chosen with care, as if he had combed through Pandora’s vast forest just to find the perfect match for you. This morning, you found a particularly delicate one—a deep blue petal with flecks of gold, so soft it felt like velvet—waiting for you beside your water. Its placement wasn’t accidental; he’d laid it carefully, as though it were a gift meant to soothe whatever rift had come between you.

“Do you like it?” His voice, deep and warm, came from behind you, startling you slightly.

You turned, fingers curling instinctively around the flower. He was leaning casually against a tree, his bow slung over his shoulder and his skin dappled in the soft morning light. He looked relaxed, but his twitching ears and the slight shift in his tail gave him away.

You rolled the flower between your fingers, trying not to let your heart leap at the sight of him. “It’s pretty.” Your voice was nonchalant, almost dismissive, but your gaze lingered on him for a moment too long.

He smiled, slow and knowing, but didn’t press further. Instead, he stepped closer, his shadow falling over you. “Pretty, huh?” he murmured, his tone teasing but soft. “Just pretty? I thought it was beautiful. Like you.”

You scoffed lightly, a weak attempt to mask the heat rising in your cheeks. “Is that what you’re doing now? Comparing me to flowers?”

Neteyam tilted his head, a playful glint in his golden eyes. “Only the rarest ones.” His voice dropped just slightly, and the way he looked at you made your stomach flip.

You tried to turn your attention back to the flower, but his presence was impossible to ignore. He crouched in front of you, his movements unhurried and fluid, and his hand reached out to tilt your chin up gently.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I don’t just bring these to make you smile. I bring them because I want you to know I think of you. Always. Even when I’m away.”

For once, you didn’t have a clever reply. And he smiled, small and boyish, as if your mere attention was like handing him all the stars in the sky. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered. “I already know.”

That night, during the clan’s celebration, you spotted him at the edge of the gathering. The music swelled, and instead of joining the other warriors in the dance, Neteyam was there, balancing precariously on a low branch. His arms flailed dramatically, as though he were imitating a bird taking flight.

You cocked an eyebrow and took a few slow steps toward him. “Is this what future Olo’eyktan training looks like? Because if it is, we’re doomed.”

He turned sharply at the sound of your voice, pretending to wobble before hopping down with an exaggerated flourish, landing directly in front of you. His grin was wide and unapologetic.

“I’m trying to make you laugh,” he admitted shamelessly, his amber eyes bright. “I’ve missed your laugh, yawne.”

You tried to hold firm, but when he clumsily twirled and struck a ridiculous pose, your laughter broke free. He straightened, a little victorious puff to his chest.

“There it is,” he teased gently, his chest still puffed out with mock pride. “I knew it was still in there.”

Your resolve cracked, but you still rolled your eyes for good measure. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re worth it,” he said without hesitation, so sincere and immediate that it caught you off guard. He extended his hand toward you, palm up to offer you a dance but he didn’t push. He just waited, his presence steady and patient.

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” you muttered, more for yourself than for him. You didn’t move, but your fingers tightened slightly around your forearms.

“I know,” he said gently, his voice low enough that only you could hear it over the celebration. “And I’ll keep earning back every bit of you until you’re not.”

For a moment, you hesitated, your heart warring with your pride. Slowly, your arms loosened, and though you didn’t take his hand, you let it rest there between you, a quiet truce in the making.

“Said you’d earn it back, huh?” The teasing tone in your voice had a sharp edge, and you couldn’t help the way it made his eyes sparkle with mischief. He tilted his head, a playful glint in his gaze, as if trying to predict your next move. “Then prove it.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and dashed into the back of the forest, heart pounding with the rush of adrenaline. The sounds of the celebration faded behind you, replaced by the rustling of leaves beneath your feet. You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up from your chest as you glanced back over your shoulder. “Catch me if you can!”

His reaction was instant, his own laugh ringing out through the air as his long legs carried him quickly in pursuit. Neteyam’s voice came, warm with determination, but also with a clear, boyish excitement. “Oh, you know I will.”

You risked another glance behind you and saw him gaining, the playful smirk on his lips matching the wild spark in his eyes like a predator closing in on its prey. The challenge, the thrill. It was all there in his gaze.

You’d darted across the massive branch that spanned the glowing, bioluminescent river below. Your heart raced as you pushed yourself faster, the wind rushing past your ears, but it only made the sounds of your laughter spill out even louder.

It felt like freedom, like nothing in the world could touch you in this moment.

But just as you rounded a turn on the massive branch, his speed bested yours. Toned arms circled around your slim waist, pulling you back against him with such effortless power that it knocked the breath from your lungs. You gasped, his chest firm against your back, his body radiating warmth in the cool, humid air.

The glowing river far below shimmered with blues and greens, but the only thing you could focus on was him. Neteyam’s breath tickled your ear, unsteady from the chase but layered with soft, husky laughter that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“You’re not getting from me away that easily, yawne.” he murmured, his voice triumphant, teasing, as his arms held you close. His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, and you swore you could feel every inch of him pressing against you. His heat, his scent, the way his hands seemed to burn through your skin.

Neteyam's breath brushed over your ear, warm and unstead, sending a hum of heat through your veins as the hairs on the back of your neck rose. You fought to steady yourself, but it was impossible. Your knees felt weak as a warmth blossomed in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t just from the chase anymore. It was from the way he held you, so firmly, with the way his lips lingered so close to the curve of your neck so teasingly that left you dizzy in his hold. He chuckled once again as if hinting at the promise of laughter and surprises yet to come.

Before you could retort, before you could even think, he moved; both of you toppling sideways off the branch. You barely had time to gasp as he leapt, carrying you with him into the air. The drop lasted only seconds before you plunged into the river below, the cool water swallowing you both in a burst of bubbles and bioluminescent light.

You surfaced with a gasp, your laughter echoing across the glowing expanse as you pushed the wet strands of hair from your face. “Neteyam!” you exclaimed, half scolding, half incredulous.

He emerged just beside you, grinning like a mischievous child, his braids dripping water and his golden eyes sparkling. “You looked like you needed to cool off,” he teased, his voice thick with playful arrogance.

Well, you did need to cool off the hotness in your core… but this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

Without hesitation, you launched a spray of cool water at him, the droplets shimmering with the river’s glow as they scattered in radiant arcs. His reaction was instant; a burst of deep, joyful laughter that echoed through the humid air, rich and unrestrained. The playful challenge sparked an electric excitement between you, drawing you both into a frenzy of splashing and dodging. The world then began to blur into the glowing water and your shared laughter, a symphony of carefree chaos where nothing else mattered but this moment.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this alive, this carefree.

Eventually, your laughter guys laughter faded into breathless quiet. His eyes found yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to still. He moved closer, his face only inches from yours now, his wet skin glistening faintly in the river’s glow.

You let out a little laugh, your fingers finding it’s way on his chest, not sure whether to pull away or pull him closer. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

“I’m yours,” he corrected, his voice low and serious for just a moment as he stared deeply into your eyes, drowning in them as if they were the river instead. “And I’m never letting you go.”

Soon enough, Neteyam’s once-constant efforts seemed to slip away, fading into nothing more than fleeting memories. His presence, once a constant source of warmth, began to diminish with every passing day. The flowers he had once brought you—each one an offering of love and hope—became fewer and fewer, as if the color was draining from both the blooms and the moments you shared.

Once again, you understood and didn’t blame him, or at least told yourself. After all, your own responsibilities as a healer had grown burdensome, the increasing frequency of skirmishes and the unrelenting demand for resources leaving you with little time for anything else. Your days blurred into a haze of tending wounds and gathering herbs, each task an anchor that dragged you further from the quiet joys you once had even with yourself.

The strain of hunting weighed heavily on Neteyam too. Gone were the days when he would wander through Pandora’s vibrant forest, carefully selecting the most beautiful flowers to weave into thoughtful bouquets. Now, even the act of picking a single bloom seemed beyond his reach, a bittersweet reminder of the tenderness that had once come so effortlessly.

The communal dinners you had once savored together became strained, short-lived affairs. He would excuse himself early, his duties as the future Olo’eyktan demanding his attention, dragging him away before the last bite of food could even be tasted. He needed rest, they said, to prepare for the challenges ahead. And though you understood, the weight of his absence pressed heavier on your chest with every night he left, his absence a constant ache. The time you once had—those stolen moments of laughter, of closeness, of being seen—became rare, almost impossible to hold onto. The spaces between you grew longer, the silences more deafening.

You began to wonder if this was just how it had to be now. If love, no matter how deep, could survive when it was stretched thin by duty and distance. But fear began to creep in, insidious and unwelcome. It was twofold: the fear of losing Neteyam to the weight of his future, and the fear of losing yourself entirely to the relentless tide of duty.

It seemed that love or leisure took a backseat and only the ceaseless demands of survival drove up-front. Maybe, maybe, everything was silently nearing the end of you and him.

You missed him, so very much. But a part of you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of your pride or admit just how much you missed him. Perhaps you thought you were being unreasonable, that it shouldn’t hurt this much when he wasn’t around. So you turned away from him, convincing yourself that this distance was dignified, that it was better to seem indifferent than desperate.

Yet deep down, the fear gnawed at you. You were terrified of being too much, of clinging too tightly to the man destined to lead and maybe eventually leave you like he always did. Either due to the familiar duties or worse, death. If you moved closer, if you let yourself reach for him, you feared you wouldn’t be able to let go. And worse, you feared the day would come when you’d find yourself begging, pleading for him not to leave, not to hurt you ever again, and that would shatter you in a way you weren’t sure you could survive.

You awoke one day after he finally joined you in your hammock for the first time in many nights, and as expected, the warmth of his body pressed against yours was gone, leaving only the faintest memory, as fragile as dew kissed by the morning sun. Could it have been just a dream? The thought clawed at you. You hoped not, but the possibility felt plausible. After all, exhaustion had blurred the lines between reality and fantasy. Perhaps your sleep-deprived mind had conjured it all: the weight of his arms around you, the gentle press of his lips, the whispered words.

But just as the doubt began to settle, a soft rustle pulled your thoughts back to the present. The sound grew louder, and you turned your head to see the heart of the matter approaching your hammock once again. Neteyam.

The warrior, as if returning from a long combat, emerged from the soft morning light, his smile radiant and disarming, as if the very sight of you was the highlight of his day. In his hands, he held a woven pouch, bursting with herbs and dried flowers, their scents already filling the air between you.

“For your hammock,” he said, his voice warm and full of affection. He knelt in front of you, holding it out with both hands like an offering. “So that it smells like the forest… and not, you know.” His grin widened, boyish and unguarded, as if he couldn’t help but tease you just a little.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Did you… make this?”

“Of course,” he said proudly, a light laugh escaping his lips. “Well, okay, I asked Grandmother for help. But I picked the flowers myself. Only the best ones, paskalin (sweet berry).”

You brought the pouch to your nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was a perfect blend of calming herbs, delicate flowers, and something distinctly him—earthy, grounding, and utterly familiar.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. For once, you didn’t try to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “But it’s so early. How’d you find the time?”

Neteyam’s eyes softened as he looked at you, and he reached out, brushing his fingers gently against yours. “Yawne,” he began, his voice steady and full of conviction, “I will always find time for you. Even when I’m busy, even when it feels like the world is pulling us in every direction, you are the first thing on my mind. And I pray you never have to wait so long for me again.”

Before you could respond, he leaned closer, his smile deepening. “It’s always going to be me at the end of the line, no matter what. Remember that for me, please?”

And as if he knew what you had been thinking, his words hit you like a wave, sweeping away most of your doubt like it always did. Before it inevitably crept back in, of course. Yet something entirely else stirred within you as Neteyam leaned in closer. His proximity was disarming, his golden eyes holding you unexpectedly captive. His scent, warm and woodsy, wrapped around you like a second skin, and the sight of him this close—lips parted slightly, his sharp jawline catching the soft morning light—sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded slowly, but it was more out of reflex than control. Your hands tightened around the woven pouch, clutching it as though it could tether you to reality, though your mind was already spinning. Your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest as you couldn’t ignore how weak you felt under his gaze, knees threatening to buckle even though you were sitting.

He tilted his head, studying you with a faint smile tugging at his lips, so achingly handsome that it sent heat rushing through your cheeks.

“Yawne,” he murmured softly, his voice like a caress, “Are you alright?”

Your throat felt dry, and you cursed your inability to speak. You could feel the burn low in your core, an ache you didn’t know how to soothe, and you prayed he didn’t notice the flush creeping up your neck. But the way his eyes flickered over you—intently, as though he could read every thought you didn’t dare say aloud—made you wonder if he already knew.

“I, uh… I’m fine,” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered, betraying you. But you summoned a smile for his grace, despite it all, “Thank you, Ma’ Teyam. For this, for everything.”

“Always welcome.” His smile grew, softer now, but laced with that teasing edge he reserved just for you. “Are you sure you’re alright?” His tone was light, but his hand reached out, fingers brushing against the side of your hip down to your thigh. The simple contact made you feel as though your whole body was alight. It was maddening how much power he held over you, how even a fleeting touch could leave you unraveling. You wanted to look away, to collect yourself, but the way he was looking at you—with that intoxicating mix of love and desire—had you rooted to the spot.

“Because,” he added, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost across your lips, “you look like you’re about to fall apart. And, paskalin, I’m not sure if I should hold you… or let you crumble, just so I can pick up every piece.”

His words sent your mind spinning, and you realized then that you weren’t sure whether you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. All you knew was that the heat of him, the weight of his gaze, was utterly consuming, and despite yourself, you wanted to burn.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Instantly, you demanded, “Pick me up. Bring me to your tent.”

There was no hesitation, no need for clarification. He knew exactly what you were asking, and it sent a flicker of something dangerous and thrilling through his golden eyes. His lips curved into a knowing smile, one that made your stomach flutter and your breath catch in your throat.

Without a word, Neteyam scooped you up effortlessly, his hands firm against your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The ease with which he held you made you feel small and completely at his mercy, and it only heightened the ache that had been building inside you for far too long.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he murmured, his voice a low, velvety tease as his forehead brushed against yours. The warmth of his breath danced across your skin, igniting every nerve as you struggled to keep your composure. “Almost thought you’d never ask…”

Your fingers threaded into his braids, pulling him just a little closer, your lips barely a breath apart. “Don’t make me regret this, ‘Teyam,” you whispered, though the tremor in your voice betrayed the longing you’d been trying to keep hidden.

“Regret?” He chuckled, a sound so rich and full it made your head spin. “Yawne, you’re about to remember why you never could.”

He carried you swiftly, his steps purposeful as the tension between you crackled like the air before a storm. Every glance he stole, every squeeze of his hands against you, eventually ended with a peck on your lips. And by the time he reached his tent, Neteyam set you down carefully, his eyes burning into yours with an intensity that stole your breath.

His thumb brushed along your cheek, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down your spine. “Loving me might be dangerous, syulang (flower),” he said, his lips ghosting against yours, “but you’re the bravest thing I’ve ever known.”

And in that instant, you knew. You were going to fall for the risk of wanting him as long as you wake, no matter how perilous the drop.

AHHHH thank you for reading!! once again—likes, comments and reblogs are very deeply appreciated. 💞💞

i was wondering, should i have made them kiss? but then i was like nahhhhhhhhhh. i like how the story points to how love can be shown beyond just mere physicality (even if it gets suggestive at some point). it’s cute, don’t you think??

ANYWAYSS, i hope you guys enjoyed and thank you so much @aamircoeur for the request! i’ve definitely gotten a few in the mailbox lately & i’d love for more because i’m on a looooong vacation so i would love to write while i’m free!! if you have any ideas (esp your craziest / complicated ones as long as it’s PG) send em right up! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[rebelfell]

They're baaaaaaaaack… (she said, as though they ever leave her brain) 18+, MDNI 3.2k

older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson

cw: a little angst to keep happily ever after interesting

continued from here, index here

Eddie sort of hates these faculty parties.

He likes the ones you throw. At the house, with the professors from your department you actually like. Everyone sits on the patio looking out at the garden, all of them ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the dreamy space Eddie has painstakingly curated—the ivy that climbs the fence; the plentiful plants and flowers that attract bees and butterflies; the willow tree that shades the hammock; the stone pavers leading to it from the patio and fire pit.

Honestly, your backyard is his masterpiece.

You light the tiki torches to keep the bugs at bay and the string lights flicker on when it gets dark. Music trickles outside through the speakers you pushed up to the open window and Eddie pokes his head out when he comes home from work, waving at your guests who titter excitedly.

It’s mostly older women, lots of heads of pure silver and white. Thick-framed glasses on beaded chains; velvet shawls with long fringe that drape off their shoulders; funky patterned skirts that swish around their legs; enamel bangles that clack when they talk with their hands.

He comes back out once he’s showered and changed his clothes, bringing with him a new bottle of wine to replace the one you’ve already finished. He refills all their glasses and you crane your neck back for a kiss when he gets around to you. Both of you smile into it as the ladies start clucking and squawking excitedly, galvanized like a gaggle of middle schoolers.

Eddie knows they like to tease you about him, calling him your ‘boy-toy.’

Not so secretly, he loves it.

It was always casual and relaxed. They’d insist Eddie join them and everyone would chatter with ease into the evening. And by the time they found the bottom of that second bottle and the record you put on had ended, at least one of them would catch Eddie’s eye and mime playing guitar until he went inside to fetch his old acoustic and serenade the group with old standards.

Then, after they all went home, you tumbled into bed so blissfully tipsy you’d just kiss and kiss and kiss until you were so tired you nearly fell asleep still wearing your clothes on top of the covers.

Those nights he liked. Not like these.

These mixer things weren’t explicitly mandatory, but it was deeply frowned upon for you to miss them. They didn’t happen all that often, usually spaced out just far enough that Eddie had time to forget what a pain in his ass they were. And it wasn’t like you made him go, he just didn’t like to relinquish a night with you so easily. So 9 times out of 10, he opted in of his own accord.

All the departments came together in a big hall that was somehow drafty and stuffy all at once, and it only got stuffier the longer some of these blowhards prattled on about nothing.

And no one said a single word to Eddie all night.

It reminded him of those rarified times that he’d stumbled into a pep rally, either purelyby accident or because of an admittedly ill-advised crush on a certain cheerleader. Even without doing much of anything, without saying a word, they all looked down their noses like he just didn’t belong.

Nobody recognized him outside of his coveralls, headphones, and aviators. In his sport coat and glasses with his hair hanging loose around his shoulders, he felt a little like Clark Kent. And he tried to act like he was supposed to be there, but it was near impossible without you by his side.

You had been, at the start of the evening. But everyone seemed to want a piece of you tonight... None more so than professor Dickus Maximus.

He was a classics professor, specializing in Ancient Rome. He had a strong, square jaw dusted with greying scruff and a head of tousled, swoopy curls—dark and streaked intermittently with wisps of white. His upper lip was topped by a dense mustache that only made his stupid Disney prince smile all the more roguish and disarming.

Eddie had only interacted with him once, but it was enough to seal his disdain.

The days he worked on campus, he always took his lunch break during your office hours so he could eat with you while you worked. Your office was small, but it had a big window that let in lots of light in the afternoon. Once he’d wolfed down whatever food he brought, Eddie stretched out on your loveseat and more often than not took a little nap in the sun like an overgrown cat.

He’d just started to kick his feet up when there was a knock at the door and whoever was on the other side had started to push it open before you even told them to come in.

Eddie jumped up, feeling his cheeks beginning to flush with heat. But you’d hardly looked up from the papers strewn across your desk before you were smiling at the guy standing in your office.

You greeted him with more familiarity than Eddie had seen you use with some other colleagues, a warmth in your smile and voice he couldn’t help but notice. It made his shoulders stiffen as he straightened his back and his stance widened, trying to take up more space in the room.

You noticed, but gave it no acknowledgement beyond a brief wrinkling of your brow.

“Marc, this is Eddie, my b—”

“Ah, yes. The new groundskeeper, right? I’ve seen you around. Marc Acacius, nice to meet you.”

Extending a large hand, Marc took his eyes off you for the first time since he came into the room. “Yeah,” Eddie answered, his voice as tight as his grip when they shook, “that’s me.”

With a quick smile, he dropped Eddie’s hand and his gaze swept right back to you. “Just checking if you’re coming tonight. Ramsey wants a head count, he’s convinced we need more food.”

“I’ll be there,” you nodded, “but I’m not eating if he’s pushing his daughter’s catering again.”

Marc let out a deep and hearty laugh at that, tipping back and putting his whole body into it, even though it barely constituted a joke. When he straightened, his eyes cut to the side once more.

“Just an informal little get-together,” he explained, shooting a sardonic smile in Eddie’s direction. “They’re exceedingly dull, but we try to make the most of them,” he added, eyes twinkling when they landed back on you in a way that made Eddie’s blood bubble in his veins.

“I’ll see you later, then,” you told Marc, smile shrinking when you saw the look on Eddie’s face.

That big, stupid hand of his raised once again in a broad wave as he turned to go, only to stop and look back over at Eddie, snapping his fingers.

“You know, there’s some shrubberies over by our building that need some cleaning up,” he said. “Think we could get that taken care of, chief?”

The way he asked wasn’t overtly condescending. It practically passed for congenial. But it made Eddie feel like his coveralls were full of fire ants. His neck burned hot with scorn and he could feel his chest puffing up as he crossed his arms in front of it and glared back at him.

“Sure,” he answered sharply, teeth grinding behind the word. “On it.”

Marc just smirked and tossed you another wave before disappearing down the hall. Eddie kicked the door closed behind him, wishing he could have slammed it.

“What a tool,” he groused.

“He can be,” you agreed. “I guess teaching about narcissistic, bloodthirsty Roman emperors driven insane by syphilis makes him look a lot better.”

Your attempt at joking fell flat, the words coming out too tight as you stood from your desk chair. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, a long pause making the hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up and blood rush in his ears.

“But, uhh…just in the interest of full disclosure… we kind of had a thing.”

“A th—” Eddie sputtered as he whipped his head back around,  “What kind of thing?”

You shrugged, staring down at the papers on your desk as you started to shuffle them together.

“We used to go for drinks after work. Sometimes it lead to more, but it wasn’t anything serious.”

“So you’ve…you guys have…”

Eddie didn’t need to finish asking before the look on your face gave him his answer. 

“Well…yeah. But again, it wasn’t—”

“Was he good?” Eddie snapped. Was he better than me? his brain feels like screaming.

You paused at your filing cabinet, the folder in your hand hovering above its space in the drawer.

“Is that really what you want to ask?” you replied.

Eddie’s jaw ticked, but he inhaled the deepest breath he could manage through flaring nostrils. “No,” he finally answered. Still stilted, but a little more calm now. “I just don’t…why him?”

Just asking made his skin feel itchy. That guy was such the total opposite of everything Eddie thought you would be interested in. He was so self-involved and self-important—so much so that it edged into being pompous. Smarmy, even. He looked like he wore tweed those jackets with patches on the elbows, and he smelled like the cologne samples Eddie used to rip out of Wayne’s old man magazines—stuff like sandalwood and frankincense and other shit from the bible.

But then maybe Eddie didn’t want to see all of the things you had in common. Same profession, more than likely similar interests. Similar incomes. Similar levels of intelligence. And while he was older than you, your ages were a hell of a lot closer than yours and Eddie’s were.

He was nothing like Eddie…or maybe Eddie was nothing like him.

You sighed a little sadly as you came around your desk. You didn’t reach for him, sitting against the edge instead so he had the space to come to you if he wanted to. And he did want to, but not yet.

“Does it matter?” you asked. “Weren’t you with other people while we were…you know.”

Eddie didn’t answer. He could only look at his boots guiltily. Neither of you liked to think about that awful gap in your story; that time when you didn’t know what he was doing or spending his time. When he didn't know whether you were thinking of him, or if he vacated your mind.

He hated it, honestly.

This was so not how he saw this afternoon going. He had spent most of his day looking forward to seeing you, distracting himself from the drudgery of spreading sod by thinking about that tight little pencil skirt you laid out last night to wear to work today. He’d pictured himself bunching it around your hips after he sat you on your desk and hauled your ass right up to the edge.

Wondering if he got you worked up enough you’d be willing to blow off the rest of your classes.

He was only just now seeing you in it fully and it was doing things to his brain, even mid-spiral. But now he couldn’t help but let the image of Marc’s stupid handsome face leak into his fantasy.

Fuck, what if you’d hooked up with him in your office? What if your little loveseat earned its name from him bending you over it? What if he’d gotten on his knees for you and made you cum all over your own desk? What if Eddie had tried it and all you could do was think of him?

You cleared your throat, surprising Eddie when you held out your hand for him to take. His arm felt like lead, but he still lifted it and let you curl your fingers around his, giving a gentle tug.

“I think maybe we should talk about this later? After you’ve had a minute?”

Eddie was still sulking, but he nodded as he moved closer. “Yeah,” he said. “That’d be good.”

That fight was ages ago. About as ancient as the stuff on Marc’s syllabus.

You’d blown off the party entirely and met Eddie back at his apartment instead. He was calmer by then, especially after taking a machete to those shrubberies and pretending they were Marc’s face. And he got your reasoning that you didn’t intend for him to find out like that, you just didn’t want to lie or hide anything from him. Ever.

Which he had to admit was nice to hear.

But not as nice as hearing that it literally meant nothing to you. That the only reason you even entertained the idea was because you knew implicitly it would never turn into more.

And then you’d made up by letting him finally see you in that pencil skirt and nothing else.

Still, ancient as it was, Eddie couldn’t help but feel like he’d been plopped right back into that day, right back into those same feelings just seeing the two of you standing together.

He closes his fist around the napkin in his hand, smashing the dry and flavorless cookie he’d been nibbling on the past hour, and flung it in the trash on his way over to you. Your eyes meet his as he swoops in, smoothing his hand up your back to rest just below the nape of your neck.

Subtle enough that it’s not tacky, but still obvious enough to be sure Marc sees.

“Getting kind of late,” Eddie hums from behind you, not even looking at the man he’s interrupted. Your glossed lips spread in a shiny smile, easily reading the level stare he’s giving you.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” you nod.

You drain the last swallow of wine from the tiny plastic cup in your hand and place it down on the emptied refreshments table, barely waving goodbye to Marc as Eddie pulls you away. He slides his hand down your spine until it settles at the small of your back and he guides you forward, glaring over his shoulder back at Marc one final time just to make sure that he’s watching.

Their eyes meet and Eddie seethes.

That’s right, motherfucker, he thinks. Mine.

Campus is eerily quiet, your footsteps on the sidewalk echoing as you pass under the lights lining the path. The air has a chill bite that does little to temper the burn rising in Eddie’s cheeks.

“Thanks for saving me,” you coo as you’re making your way to the staff parking lot. “I would have been bored to tears if you hadn’t come.”

“Doubt it,” Eddie mutters under his breath before he can stop himself.

“What do you mean?” you ask, a little sadly.

He just shrugs, his shoulders bristling as he shoves his fists deep in his jacket pockets. It’s brown suede, lighter and thinner than his leather jacket. He loves it because you bought it for him, but he almost wishes he was in the other one.

It felt weightier, more impenetrable.

More like armor.

“Nothing,” Eddie grumbles. “I just don’t get why he has to be all over you like that.”

Without realizing it, his feet start to speed up, like he’s trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and this night, and you find yourself trailing behind as you ask, “Who?”

“Fuckin’ Marc,” Eddie sneers.

He doesn’t recognize the voice coming out of him, all snippy and pissy. That’s not how he talks to you. It’s not how he ever wants to talk to you. So why the fuck is that what he’s doing?

“Hey,” you say, taking his elbow and pulling on it so he’s back in step with you. His fists squeeze tighter inside of his pockets, but his gait slows. “What’s going on here? Are you really mad?”

Yes, Eddie thought bitterly.

“No,” he replies with a frown.

A puff of air pushes out through your nose in a snort. “Oh, well, that was convincing.”

In spite of himself, Eddie can’t help the corner of his mouth twitching up into a tiny smile. You slip your hand through his arm, fingers curling around his bicep to stop him and turn him towards you.

“M’sorry,” he mutters, looking at his feet. “I know you said it didn’t mean anything, I just…”

Eddie exhales sharply, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. Finally, he looks up to find himself staring into your eyes. They’re trained on his face, patient and waiting.

“I fucking hate him. I hate seeing you with him, I hate thinking about you with him—I hate him.”

“Oh, Eddie…”

He’d heard his name sighed in exasperation a lot. Teachers sick of homework turned in smudged and torn, even if all the work was correct. His friends when he made a big bad too challenging, keeping them from moving on in the campaign. Wayne finding the ashtray overflowing with butts after he had reminded Eddie to empty it. Girls—cheerleaders—when he asked if he could take them out on a real date instead of subsisting on shadowy, clandestine hook-ups inside his van.

But that’s not the way you say it.

There’s too much fondness in your voice, too much care for him in your soft eyes, your touch too gentle as you reach out a hand to cradle his jaw. He flinches microscopically at your touch. Burning cheek numbed by the wind getting warmed back up by the heart of your palm.

He doesn’t realize until you touch him that he was shaking. Shivering, either from the cold or from the rush of adrenaline he got from finally getting to say how much he despised that guy.

Except now that he’s said it out loud…he doesn’t think this has anything to do with Marc after all.

He inhales slowly and lets out a big breath. Your thumb strokes his stubble, your eyes drawn to the miniscule number of grays that shine silver under the street light as you’re brushing them.

“I don’t mind that you were with him,” he admits at last. “But I hate that you weren’t with me.”

Eyes shining with the beginning of tears, he looks into yours and finds them in the same state. You blink furiously fast, trying to clear them and clamber to throw your arms around him.

Wrapped tight around his neck, hugging him as close as you can so you can whisper in his ear,

“I hate that I wasn’t with you, too.”

The two of you stand there for a long moment, curled around one another’s bodies as you sway gently. Eddie imagines the song you’re dancing to in his head; one you introduced him to and loved to put on whenever he was having a bad day, or just feeling a little combative.

It grounds him. Brings him back to the thing that matters, the only one that does. You and him.

And you tell him the same thing you’d told him the night of that fight. In the same solid, affirming tone that silenced all the unkind thoughts about himself flying around inside Eddie’s head.

“He’s not you,” you whisper, giving him another tight squeeze. “Not even close.”

prev┃

I wanted to keep the song referenced vague, but this is what I hear when I think of them. Not at all influenced by severance taking over my brain permanently, nope, nuh-uh, neeeeever

[neteyawne]

hello :) idk if you’re taking requests atm but if not ignore this!!

i would like to request some hcs for neteyamm if that’s okay, maybe some general ones like about him like his lil quirks and stuff and then some relationship ones? thanks lovely! 🫶

AHH i got you babe!! here's some head-cannons of our favorite boy on Pandora ~

Neteyam ⋆｡°✩ who's love language was acts of service. He was the perfect definition of a gentleman - always putting your own needs before his. He'd pick out the freshest fruits for you to eat and let you use his body as a pillow whenever you were in need of a nap. He was perfectly content with braiding your hair while you slept, often intertwining his own beads into the strands so you always had a piece of him with you no matter where you went.

Neteyam ⋆｡°✩ who used Norm's camera to take pictures of you. The Sky People's odd device was something he would come to cherish. He had polaroids of you stashed in a simple woven basket under his hammock - with other trinkets and sorts that reminded him of you.

Neteyam ⋆｡°✩ who had a bad habit of staring at you. He didn't even notice himself looking at you so longingly all the time until Lo'ak was snapping his fingers in front of the lovesick boy's face with an agitated look in his eyes. How many times would Neteyam space out and watch you play with little Tuktirey? He imagines you with his own children one day, and how wonderful of a wife and mother you'd make.

Neteyam ⋆｡°✩ who cradled you to his chest when you cried. He hated the sight of your lash line wet with tears, the sight bringing him to near tears as he hushes and soothes you. He spoiled you with love, making sure not a moment went by where you felt unloved. He was brave, but the sight of you crying always managed to break a piece of his heart. Until you're happy, don't expect the kisses and hugs to slow down anytime soon.

bonus scene! ⋆｡°✩

"Teyam - I can feel you smiling." You whisper, the feeling of his lips grazing your cheek soft as he lets out a chuckle

"I'm sure you can. You haven't opened your eyes yet, right yawne?"

You nod your head silently, your eyes still closed as he finally squeezes your hand gently - giving you the go ahead to open your eyes

Your fluttering lashes are met with the warm shine of the bioluminescence of the forest around you - and a few feet away from you was a tree, one that had you and Neteyam's named carved onto it.

"Do you remember this tree?" He asks softly, his eyes warm with love as you lean forward in awe, tracing the engraved wood with a smile

"I don't but... I feel like I've been here before." You whisper

"This was the tree you and I had our first kiss under. Remember, that branch was leaning over our heads - its vines tickling your sides when you leaned over hmm?" He muses, an amused grin on his face as he gently tickled your side as you squeal

"Teyam! This is - this is so wonderful." You breathe our, smiling so brightly that Neteyam's heart almost bursts at the sight

"Our love will be here forever. It's engraved here - one day, when we're old and our time has come - you and I will be laid here. Together forever, you and I." He whispers, and your eyes shine with unshed tears

"I love you Neteyam."

"I love you more, yawne."

[sleepyjuice]

jj is 100% a dog person. he was laying in the hammock outside the chateau one day, beer in his hand and his hat resting low on his face, covering his eyes as he was enjoying the calm weather that had come the day after a pretty nasty storm hit the island when he heard movement nearby, causing him to sit up and pull his hat back up properly on his head.

“hey who-“ he called out, looking towards the direction of the sound, expecting human company, but was met with a timid looking dog slowly making its way towards him.

“ohhh, hey… hey little guy. c’mere, it’s okay.” he stood up slowly, his voice soft as he gently kneeled down to the dogs level as it fully approached him. the dog was apprehensive but eventually stopped once it was stood in front of jj, the two at eye level now.

“what happened to you, huh? where’s your owner?” he looked over the dog, which he now knew to be a boy, eyes scanning his neck as he searched for a collar, but there was none. he moved his head to fully inspect him, looking for any signs of injuries. the dog didn’t look injured though, just scared. he must have ran away or gotten loose during the storm somehow.

after a while, the dog realized he wasn’t in immediate danger around the tall man he had found, even letting jj pet his neck softly. so he followed jj inside when he ushered him in to get him a bowl of water and search for any kind of food that would be suitable for a dog.

he ended up finding a few slices of cheese and some deli meat, which he deemed good enough for the time being. the dog was quick to eat it all up and finish the bowl of water jj had gotten him, soft curious eyes full of gratitude and adoration looking up at the kind man who had just fed him.

“ahh fuck, what am i gonna do with you?”

[inchidentally]

(anon charmingly asked for a "ramble" from me about this video and like I even need the excuse tbh)

literally one of my favorite qualities of their dynamic is Lando mercilessly nagging Oscar and bossing him around and Oscar dutifully obeying and finding Lando constantly fun and charming no matter what. it's a trait that Lando only brings out around very select people and tbh I can only come up with Max F atm tho I'm sure there are others. but normally with his friends Lando is the little brother who's just happy to be included and he might be annoying or stubborn sometimes but mostly just to wind them up. but The Nagging? is reserved only for people who can handle it. and Oscar handles it far, far too well.

I love that Oscar has clearly been told to lead these videos more by the McLaren social media team and given guidance about things like using his hands and being more animated … only for Lando to interrupt and huff out "do you want to start or do you want me to start?" bc CLEARLY Oscar isn't doing it the way Lando wants !!

Oscar's fumbling little "ahh ahh I-I can start?" literally "yes dear sorry dear"

OKAY SO THE FUNNIEST PART !! is Lando's absolute OUTRAGE when he spots the hangers and immediately accuses Oscar of stealing them even though ! the hangers are empty and clearly Oscar isn't lying when he says had no idea they were there - oh and Lando steals them all for himself anyway

BUT OSCAR LAUGHS AND GOES ALONG WITH IT "apparently I stole his hangers" meanwhile Lando is literally still grumbling "goddd!" behind the camera bc he is SO MAD

Lando picking around Oscar's sink before he gets caught out and

interrupts Oscar again bc TIME FOR LANDO

"it's a bit cleaner!" oh the satisfaction we all felt when Oscar pointed out that Lando hadn't actually unpacked yet

oh my god !!! the way they pick up on these little domestic bits "my morning latte" "2 in the afternoon" "AHEM afternoon" like this is clearly what's going on when they do the thing of looking at each other and giggling and no one else knows why

Lando's pride in his new bed and Oscar narrating along to how it's set up

OSCAR GOING "DONK" WHEN LANDO DESCRIBES HITTING HIS HEAD THAT'S SO CUTE and absolutely going in my Oscar Narrating Lando's Life list

the synchronized "two other driver rooms" oh my god they're so scary sometimes they even looked at each other like wtfff

Oscar is boring about wood trim and Lando looking at the camera like wowww interesting huh? - oh my god let your boy be dull it's just how he is !!

Oscar's sleeping space being deemed "cute" by Lando ;__; just like his BK order

the way Oscar keeps providing along words for Lando in Lando's room and yep sure enough, Lando needs him for 'hammock'!!

no seriously Oscar having learned to track Lando's meandering thought patterns so closely bc ha as if Lando will be doing that and not losing track completely

Oscar literally did not need to laugh like that at Lando pretending he had a console and PC set up for gaming but well Zendaya laugh down bad etc

Lando having fully taken over starts the full outro and Oscar returns to his beloved spot watching Lando and saying "yes" over and over like literally McLaren just follow them around with a camera you don't need to prompt them with challenges they do all this on their own

[maryfett99]

Random headcanons - One Punch Man

Some random headcanons I came up with in a single day. Maybe Part 2 with other characters?

✿Masterlist✿

Fandom: One Punch Man

Characters: King, Sonic, Garou

Warnings: none, just Garou being a bit foul-mouthed yk.

Note: My God this was so much fun to write😭💕 Should I make another random headcanons but related to Reader?

King

• Ahh King of my heart this guy loves feeling cozy in his bedroom when it’s time to sleep (regardless of how the rest of his apartment may look, you know).

• He has one of those fancy aromatherapy humidifiers, which he uses when he's in a good mood. Hidden away, he keeps a small collection of essential oils just for it. Cherry, vanilla, lavender… he's a lowkey aromatherapy fan! (not that he’d ever admit it out loud).

• He also owns a couple of adorable teddy bears and sometimes sleeps cuddling them. There’s just something about it that makes him feel safe and comforted.

• And of course, he couldn't go without having comfy pajama sets with cute prints in his closet! Only God knows how he manages to buy them without getting recognized out in public— but that doesn’t stop him from getting the little things he loves.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

Sonic

• My stealthiest boy Sonic, He really enjoys the peace and stillness of the forest, so there are a few things he likes doing when he's surrounded by nature.

• For example: long walks. The breeze and the sound of the trees swaying in the wind calm him down. If he's feeling up to it, he might even pick some wild berries along the way.

• He climbs to the highest branches and lies down on them (remember that Sonic OVA). If he's super tired, he might even fall asleep up there. Or, as he likes to say in his own words, just “resting his eyes”. And yes, he talks in his sleep if he’s having an intense dream.

• After a long day of training, Sonic sometimes ties up a hammock between two trees and just lays there for a good while. But no matter how relaxed he seems, his sleep is always light— what if Saitama shows up and catches him off guard like that!?

• Yeah yeah, don’t worry, I didn’t forget: he definitely bathes in that waterfall. Hair down Sonic >>>>>

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

Garou

• Oh the wolfman Garou. As we already know he's super competitive, so naturally, challenge-based reality shows are one of his absolute favorites!

• He’s extremely expressive when watching any TV show, especially verbally speaking, so I can definitely see him yelling at the screen as if the contestants could hear him 😭

• “Higher!! you gotta jump higher!! Come on you idiot!!”

“Did they not eat before coming on this show or what!? Pull the rope harder dammit!!”

“If I were there I would've finished that already”.

These are just some of the things that would fly out of his mouth while watching.

• He’ll even curse at the team he’s rooting for if they start losing, but he’s not switching sides.

“Even an elementary school kid could’ve solved that puzzle”

“Give me two minutes. Just TWO. I’ll finish it and still have time left”

“Easiest puzzle on Earth. I could do it blindfolded”.

•Not gonna lie, watching shows with him would be hilarious— you’d be laughing the whole time just from how seriously he takes it. Unintentionally funny king.

Credits dividers: cursed cadmine - anita lenia

[ediblecompl3x]

nightmares; travis martinez bot

link to bot

greeting:

the night air is cold, it picks at your skin. from your hut, you see travis leave his hammock, looking around to see if anyone's there. he looks stressed, likely awake from a nightmare.

not long after the death of javi, his only brother, he admitted to you that it keeps him up at night. although you were aware of his sleep difficulties, you've never seen him leave his hammock before.

curious, you get up and watch where he goes, careful not to wake your 'roommate' akilah up.

you watch as he moves toward the fire pit, sitting by himself. you feel a pang of sadness hit your chest, as you see the distressed look in his eyes. you decide to exit the hut and move over to him.

as you get closer, he notices you.

"oh, hey. sorry, did I wake you?" he says, a tinge of guilt in his eyes.

♤

a/n: my first ever bot! ahh!!

[stinkysam]

Buggy the Clown - Furnace.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “Buggy and a male devil fruit user? The reader are a fire devil fruit and can manipulate fire without it hurting them. Buggy could find pretty cool and flashy. The fire power also causes the reader to have a really warm body temperature…” - anon

Reader : male (he/you)

It was a cold winter night in the middle of the sea, rain pouring heavily on the deck. You were in your hammock, snoring peacefully.

You didn't mind the weather in the slightest. Your devil fruit gave you a high body temperature, so much the air around you was hot, almost like standing next to a chimney.

Shaking and shivering, your crewmates are arguing about who will sleep in the hammock next to yours, to enjoy your powers for the night.

Then, the door gets kicked open by none other than your captain.

“What's going on here ?!” He loudly yells and you wake up, jumping on your feet, wobbling a bit.

“We're just- [Name] is really warm, captain.” One says.

“And ?” His right foot is tapping the floor, hands on his hips.

“And we're cold…”

“So you want to use him, mh ? Did you ask him ?” He says, squinting his eyes. You raised an eyebrow at his words, why did he care so much suddenly ?

“N- no…”

“You should be ashamed of yourselves !” He pointed at them, and they looked down in embarrassment. “[Name], with me, now !” He ordered and you quickly walked to him. “He'll sleep with me tonight, that'll teach you all.” He said, leaving the room with you as your crewmates sadly climbed in their hammocks.

You walked in silence to his bedroom, unable to contain your smile while Buggy's face still looked severe.

“You can drop the act now, we're alone.”

“What ? I have no idea what you're talking about.” He says, looking at you, pouting as if to look like he was thinking of what you could be insinuating.

“It's okay, captain, I get it, you're cold and I'm warm.”

“What !?” He says, looking insulted. “I just acted like a good captain ! I heard ruckus in the room and saw you being bothered by them. If anything, I saved you ! You should be thankful.”

“I was asleep.”

He found nothing to reply to that, grumbling instead and then you noticed him trying to contain his shivering. He side eyed you, wondering if he had done the right thing but as you wrapped your arm around him, any regrets evaporated. Nevermind, he was right to steal you from his minions.

You quickly reached his room and jumped on his bed.

“Ahh !” You sighed, his king-size bed was much more comfortable and spacious than the hammocks. Buggy snorted, climbing next to you and throwing the covers above you two.

He turned the lights off and you laid down, waiting for him to lay next to you. But instead, nothing came.

It was one thing to plan this and steal you away for your warmth, but it was another thing to get physically close to you for it. Luckily for him, the lack of light hid his blushing.

“What are you waiting for ?” You ask, staring at his silhouette before pulling him closer, making him gasp.

Cheek against cheek, you held him against you, closing your eyes before you felt him shift, pulling away from you before coming closer again, his head resting on your chest.

It was warm. It felt nice.

He could hear your heartbeat. It felt weird. But… comforting. Like hearing a lullaby.

Buggy closed his eyes, arms wrapping around you to keep you there, slowly getting more comfortable as one of your hands rubbed his back, soothingly.

He was no longer shivering, instead falling into a deep sleep, snoring louder than you.

Maybe he should do this more often.

[neteyamyawne]

🫀— Broken Hearts

༄ Pairing : Neytiri x Fem!Na'vi!reader.

༄ Summary : She left you for the one she said not to worry about, even when you warned her, in the end, this was not what meant for you to begin with.

༄ Warnings : Cheating, heartbreak, hurt/no comfort, Gaslighting, manipulation, aggressive behaviour, Neytiri being a red flag, toxic behaviour, attachment issues? Neytiri is an asshole, Jake being nice? use of [y/n] in some places.

༄ Prompt : Cheated on.

༄ Word Count : 1.9k Proof read.

༄ Note : I loveeeee Neytiri angst like THERE COULD BE SO MUCH NEYTIRI ANGST!! AHH FERAL (I'm crying 😭)

༄ Glossary : [uniltiranyu] - Dreamwalker, [Vrrtep] - Demon, [Tsahik] - clan's spiritual leader, [Yawne] - Beloved, [Tiyawn] - Love, [Vitrautral] - Tree of souls, [Paskalin] - sweet berry.

◦ Angstmas || Masterlist

She was your everything, quite literally after losing your brother and family in RDA attacks, she became your whole world, everyone knew about you and Neytiri, she was like nectar while you followed her like a bee, childhood friendship turned into love, who didn't want that?

Mo’at took the initiative of taking you in, being the mother you lost, your life was nearly perfect, a family, a loving partner, a place to live, good food, a life filled with love and affection all until a certain uniltiranyu was brought into your clan with your soon-to-be mate by his side.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

You were waiting for the right time to mate, as said by mo'at the time hadn't come yet, but still your heart yearned for the day to come soon.

The vrrtep that has taken a place in your clan, never failed to irritate you, more so since it was sign from the great mother for him to stay and for Neytiri to be the one who train him, your fears grew though, with each passing day as they trained you’d see from afar how they behaved together, the practices were getting suspiciously touchy even when not needed.

His little tricks, his constant smile, he always had a hand touching her, her hair… hand… shoulder and it didn't go unnoticed by you.

The communal dinners were the same, while you sat with Mo’at and Eytukan, Neytiri was immersed in a conversation with Jake about practice they had earlier with a radiant smile on her face that you hadn’t seen in weeks since he came into her life, she seemed distant as days passed by… and you were terrified but you trusted her… right?

Mo'at saw the look in your eyes, seeing her daughter with a demon they despised was something the tsahik didn't like herself but even more when she saw the daughter she took under her wing looking at her soon-to-be mate with someone else pained her more.

“Ma ite, everything would be alright, the great mother would not disappoint you, my child, she has a path for everyone…”

Mo'at whispered in your ear as she smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder before cupping your face in her palm.

“Do not be afraid to ask your questions, ask them before it's too late” mo'at knew what she was saying and so did you, you had to talk to Neytiri about this, it was the only way.

You stared at the woman who became your mother then to the one who was supposed to be yours forever and sighed as you picked and fondled at your food and nodded, lost in your thoughts, you had to talk and soon.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

The clan was turning back to their hammocks now, you returned to the one you shared with Neytiri since who know how long, it for good to have her back with you, at least the nights were yours, she smiled, it was genuine and you could see it, as the hammock covered you both she pulled you closer, tangling her limbs with yours.

Her golden eyes shone in the bioluminescent lights and you couldn't help but smile sheepishly as she pressed lazy kisses on your face.

“Neytiri… I wanted to speak to you.” You whispered in the middle of her kiss session and she stopped with her eyebrows furrowing, still holding you close to her “what is it, yawne?”

You took a deep breath, holding her hand tightly in yours as she laced her fingers with yours with concern on her face “Tiyawn, what is it?”

“I- what's going on between you and that uniltiranyu? I know you are training him but… it's- it's getting- i don't like it, Neytiri”

When you uttered those words, her face went unemotional, there was no love behind those golden eyes as she glared at you, as if all of it just evaporated in a second, which made you rethink your decision to ask her about him.

“Why would you think that, yawne?! He's a demon, one of them! It is just my task to make him one of the people, am I supposed to go against the great mother?! you shouldn't be thinking like that” her tone was cold on some level which didn't sit right with you.

Your heart dropped, this wasn't the reaction you were expecting and you shook your head in a hurry, this wasn't what you meant!

“No- No! Neytiri… this was not what I meant… I was just- um nothing, leave it, I don't want to fight, I'm sorry, i shouldn't have brought it up” you whispered as you her tail was firm behind her, her ears perked up alert.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she simply held your hand and closed her eyes, turning away from you to sleep on her back, which made a pang of guilt wash over your heart.

“If you knew me, you wouldn't have said that, Y/n, go to sleep” She whispered as if there wasn't anything else to say and turned around, her back facing you, you've slept this way when you little spooned her but this time it felt different, it was on purpose.

Sleep didn't come easily to you that night while you thought about what he said, you really shouldn't have asked that, of course she's mad, you questioned her loyalty to you? Idiot.

But the thoughts still lingered in the back of your mind, the what ifs were eating you inside out but you pushed them aside and went with it, she loved you, she'd never do something like that.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

Days passed by and the regular smiles turned into frequent laughs with him, moments together with her were becoming sparse, as if you were just a person who merely entered her life and went away at her expense.

Soon the day of Iknimaya came as you rode your ikran around the floating mountains and landed next to Neytiri while she was behind Jake… her hand on his chest as she Whispered instructions to him, was it necessary to place her hand there?

Still you let it be and focused on the fight that was about to occur between Jake and his chosen Ikran, it was intense as he was nearly thrown over the cliff twice but he managed it somehow and took the first flight which you and Neytiri joined him on.

Only one thing was left now… the ceremony, which would occur tonight and for once you didn't want Neytiri to be with him, it was done, her job was completed, she didn't need to be with him now, or that's what you thought.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

The ceremony was one of the crucial rituals of omaticaya to become one of them, as for once, a uniltiranyu has become one of them, you were happy with his accomplishments but for now you attention was on Neytiri as the Night was young and alive, you thought it was the perfect time to take her to the tree of Souls.

Neytiri was near the fire circle, chatting with someone until you pulled her aside with a bright smile on your face “Yawne… let us go to the Vitrautral… I have something to tell you” you whispered excitedly holding her hands tightly… but this time she didn't lace them together.

“Do we have to…? Right now? Paskalin… let's not, it's Jake's celebration, he would not like it, we can go… tomorrow!” She said with an unnatural enthusiasm which left you puzzled.

“T- Tomorrow? But it's a beautiful night, let us go right now!” you said as you tugged on her hand but she held back.

“Don't you understand? I don't want to go right now?!” She snapped and you were taken aback, the enthusiasm completely gone as she slid her hands away from yours “you can go rest, I'll come after you”

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

Those were her last words, she never came to your hammock that night and heart filled with the worst scenarios, but what if she just wanted a break today? She has spent many nights like this when she wants to be alone, maybe it's one of those? But you knew it was different, everything was different and you didn't want to think about the other possibilities…

❝Now I have to

Remember you,

For longer than I

Have known you❞

— c.c.aurel

The dawn of that day was the darkest moment of your life…

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

The commotion in the main area woke you up, the gasps and murmurs filled the tense air, the whispers grew louder when they saw you walk in through the crowd before you heard Tsu'tey grunt and snarl at Jake “You MATED with this woman?!” And your heart dropped as you saw Jake and Neytiri standing between the circle- hand in hand.

“Neytiri…” Your whisper was louder than any scream that she could have heard, the sight in front of you broke your heart like never before, you trusted her…

She looked away, not daring to look at your way, your face, the whole clan was quite watching with bated breaths, mo'at closed her eyes Whispering a prayer to eywa to give you the strength to face this.

You walked forward to her but Jake got in between “Look, Y/n, I'm sorry… I know this was an ass-” but your growl made him shut his mouth as you brandished your knife to his neck and he backed off with his hands in the air “you stay out of this Sulli! Do not talk or-”

Your sentence was cut off when Neytiri tackled you to the ground and snarled and hissed in your face, fury ebbed in her eyes as she pressed her own knife to your throat.

You couldn't care less as you looked into her with all the sincere love you had for her “so this is what I shouldn't have worried for? That you'd “never” do this to me? Why lie Neytiri? Why LIE?!”

You pushed her back with your strength as she was left speechless, the flowers from her hair falling out, you got up ready to fight before Tsu'tey gripped you from behind and held back as for the first time, tears streamed down your flushed azure cheeks, tail swishing behind you tensely.

Neytiri on the other hand looked at the ground in shame, Jake placed a hand on her shoulder in some sort of comfort before she spoke “Y/n… I shouldn't have done that… I know and I still did and will do it again for him because… I'm sorry- I- I don't love you.. anymore” her voice was hushed at the end but the words were enough to cut your heart in half.

Mo'at could watch it as she looked at her daughter in disappointment and then at Jake in anger as she stood beside you “Neytiri, you have done wrong, to our clan and Y/n, your illicit affairs shall be taken care of later”

Her voice was cold and Neytiri was in shock, her mother never called her by her name, always some sort of a nickname but also Neytiri knew she did wrong.

There was no point in standing there as Mo'at and Eytukan took you aside as your sobs were unstoppable while Tsu'tey argued with Jake and Neytiri about something.

You've never felt pain like this, you always saw her as your mate, your dear mate who could do no wrong in your eyes but you were too blind to see the signs.

Now it was all you could do, wallow in the pain of your heart that broke down piece by piece as the one you saw your mate turned your whole world upside down, if this was the path eywa chose for you, then you despise her for it.

Ho Ho Ho : @cryinginthemoonpool, @luvv4j4ybe11, @xylianasblog, @plooto, @itchaboi-itchyboy, @pandoraslxna, @taylormarieee, @thewiltedpeony, @neteyamswillow, @danniackerman, @hotdsworld, @zafrinaxyz, @xstarsdiary, @moondaisye, @puddle-nerd, @eywxveng, @minnory, @neteyamssyulang, @tavsianus, @ele-sme.

©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[the-fiction-witch]

Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Media - It Chapter One Character - Richie Tozier Couple - Richie X Reader (Platonic love) Reader - Y/n (Friends / Maybe kinda closet buddies) Rating - 12 Word Count - 924

‘There Is a Light That Never Goes Out’ played gently from the small radio that sat among the various clutter in the Loser’s Den. Richie was the only one inside at the time, his leg hung lazily from the hammock as he reclined comfortably, comic book in hand. The hammock softly swaying as he mindlessly shifted to the music.

“And if a double-decker bus…Crashes into us…To die by your side…Is such a heavenly way to die,” he absentmindedly sang along,

But he jumped a little as the hatch opened without warning. He sat up, a little panic flashing across his face briefly until he saw the familiar boots.

Y/n climbed down and shut the hatch behind her out of habit, wearing her usual brown muddy boots, green rainbow patterned tights, denim skirt, band t-shirt she’d cut into a crop top at a slightly asymmetrical angle, with her hair in tight permed curls. And of course, her thick black glasses were on her nose.

He smiled and set his comic book down on the milk crate beside the hammock. He adjusted his patterned shirt a little and smiled at her, “Hey Y/n.”

She didn’t say anything, not a single word. She just stepped across the den, kicking off her boots as she went, before she began to clamber into the hammock with him.

“Hey! Y/n! No- We both can’t- there’s no space for us both! Ahh! Fuck- don’t tip it that way we’ll both crack out head’s open!” He complained as the hammock swung and shifted as the two attempted to figure out a way this would work, that didn’t involve one of them in a hospital visit.

Finally, they got stable and settled.

Richie lay with his head propped up, not unlike he had been before she got here, and Y/n lay over him, her body between his legs and her head on his chest. Keeping their centre of gravity much the same.

He rolled his eyes a little and looked down at her. “Comfy down there, Y/n?”

Y/n nodded, shifting herself a little closer. So much so, the scent of her cherry body mist and the slight scent of ammonia given just how fresh her perm was.

Richie let out a long sigh and merely accepted that this was going to be his afternoon now. Given that he couldn’t even get up if he wanted to, unless she herself decided to let him. But he was used to this with her, and he didn’t really mind a little cuddle with her anyway, if the losers weren’t around.

She slowly tilted her head up to meet his, her big eyes behind her glasses meeting his own. Strangely forming a sort of infinite mirror effect that almost blocked their actual eyes from one another.

As Richie’s glasses reflected in Y/n’s glasses, which then reflected in Richie’s glasses, which then reflected in Y/n’s glasses. And Vice Versa.

They both sat silently for a few seconds, the music all that lingered between them.

Until Y/n’s hand crawled up Richie’s body like a spider and plucked his glasses from his face, “Yoink.”

“Hey!” He complained, “Gimme!”

“Mine now,” she said,

“I can’t see, Y/n!”

She laughed and pulled off her own glasses, putting Richie’s glasses on her nose, and Richie’s glasses on her own.

They stared at one another again, but neither was now actually able to see, given they had wildly different eye issues. The glasses once more reflecting back on one another.

“You…” she began, looking around like a shocked lizard, “Are very blind.”

“And you are very blurry, my dear,” he laughed, “Can you see anything?” He asked, bringing his hand up to jokingly slap at her face, but he actually was struggling to do so, even for a joke, managing to find her bangs and tuck some curls from her face.

“I see… colours.”

“How do you see anything out of these things, my god girl.”

“Shall we swap back?”

“I don’t know, I think I look rather fetching.”

“Rich!” She laughed,

“And… I kinda prefer you in my glasses anyway,” He smiled,

“But I can’t see,” she whined,

“Neither can I,”

“Richie! Give me my glasses!”

“But I am blinded by you, Y/n.”

She scoffed and swapped their glasses back, “There. All the better to see you with.”

“Yeah, but… You do look alot cuter than me in my glasses.”

“I look cute in everything.”

“That you do,” he laughed, “Giving all the boys heart palpitations, just begging to get to cuddle with you.”

“You’re a boy,” she reminds him,

He dramatically gasps, “Oh! My god! I never knew! How could you not tell me this?”

“Rich!” she laughed,

“But… I mean it, the boys all do think you’re cute,” he smiled, “Yet you don’t?”

“Boys are gross.”

“I’m a boy. Am I gross?”

“No,” she smiled, tucking her knees up a little, being much closer to him, their legs brushing up against one another, “You’re Richie.”

“So I’m the only one who’s not gross?”

“Mhm,” she nodded with a gentle yawn,

“You better not be falling asleep on me, Y/n,” he laughed,

But it was way too late,

Y/n had gotten so comfortable, she’d fallen asleep right there in the hammock against Richie’s chest.

He softly chuckled to himself, knowing he’d be stuck here till she woke up. But he leant over, careful not to disturb her, turning the radio down a little lower. Before he gently removed her glasses and his own, he set them both on the milk crate. Before he slid his hands around her back and closed his own eyes.

The two happy and content to snooze away the summer, in one another’s arms.

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

WIP Wednesday Whenever

Apologies again to @becausedragonage for tagging me at a reasonable time on a Wednesday and only getting a response a day later. I'm struggling to find time for creative ventures, folks! This week has been so busy! Ahh!!!

That said, the extra time did give me a chance to unearth an old attempt at a prelude for my original story idea, and I'm keen enough on it that it might survive in some capacity when I give the story another go. We'll see! For now, take some unedited Seven Cities after about a million years.

Despite every scrap of evidence to the contrary, the prevailing theory was that Alex Sheffield had deserted his Service vessel for a simple lack of anything better to do. His hammock had been discovered swinging gently on the gun deck early in the morning, empty save for the folded squares of his scrubby work shirt and the oft-patched breeches that were still holding on by their threads. These were provisions of the slop chest, owned on paper but rented in spirit, and so had been left behind, tucked neatly beneath a thick nest of threadbare blankets; but his boots, his coat, and the tiny ditty box that he had scrounged for months to buy had all vanished into the night. Or, as one of the younger sailors had been quick to point out, into the sea — the whole homely little scene swung beside a propped-open gun port, the only one in that state, which led out into the grimy blue-green waves lapping rhythmically against their hull.   “He wouldn’t,” Bryce had argued instantly, in the voice of a man trying very hard to be certain of himself. “What cause would he have? Only a madman makes for open sea in the dead of night, a dozen ship-lengths from shore, carrying all that he has along with him. Only a fool does it a single night before leave is granted, before his pay is shared out! That is —” “That is Alex Sheffield,” had come the reply, rising from the grumbling night watch who had been roused by the commotion. “And no surprise for it. His was always a cat's loyalty, lad — kept around by the promise of meat and of a warm bed only. If he finds it agreeable to spit on the old man’s charity for some unfathomable scheme of his own design, then let him go, says I. And take his shirts.” Tahir, from his place perched against the long guns, had only been able to agree with the unfathomable scheme bit. Little madman in the making though he was, Alex had also been in the best of their captain’s good graces. He had been receiving personal instruction on the makings of a Navy sailor many times his senior for the better part of seven months now, and had taken to them with the sort of relish that Tahir had thought was reserved exclusively for street kids around a sweet jar. He had, by cleverness and luck alone, reaped the sort of status and high regard that you could not buy with charm or money, and from one of the few men in the world that Tahir thought was worth it.  And, perhaps most importantly, Alex Sheffield couldn’t fucking swim. So, he hadn’t just tipped himself over the side. So, he hadn’t decided on a whim to thumb his nose at the old man’s time and effort. It was something closer to survival that sent him scuttling away from the last five years of his life — or at least, something no less than a threat to it. But saying that out loud would be giving away the game, and Tahir barely knew the rules yet: so, instead, he sat by quietly as the morning watch worked themselves into a frenzy over the news, and then joined the first scouting party that was allowed leave to scour the shore.

Tagging: @girlwonderers, @dalish-farther-roam, @dragonologist-phd, @llesbianwrites, @nuclearanomaly, @bladeverbena, and anyone else who'd wanna join! I just threw a few tags out of folks I know to have done this sort of thing in the past so no pressure to do it! (But if you do...I wanna see...)

[valevod]

Some more of them <3

Papavero's team. Bombirdier considered dropping him as a kid 🤧

Their nicknames are:

Purrloin: Cat - Bombirdier: Thing (usually called mom on accident) -Absol: Dog- Murkrow: Bird- Cranidos: Tiny- Purugly: Ugly ahh (affectionate)

Papavero wasnt allowed to have pokemon as a kid, but he usually snuck out to play with a very affectionate Bombirdier. He used to sleep on her apron like an hammock. Nothing changed. She'll be his first poke, later catching the others when taught by Orchidea :p (me giving lore to 3000 Aus and never explaining their og publicly)

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam making a hammock when he's testing and just staying there the entire day with it wrapped around him like a cocoon.

Adam: Ahh, I'm just a warm toasty cinnamon bun

Lucifer: Is there room for two?

Adam: AHHH! Oh my god where did you come from?

Lucifer: I knocked twice.

[goofballs-stuff]

☆Astro hcs☆

Seems astro won the poll this time!!!

-#1 sleepy Boii -bffs with rnd, dandy,brightknee & cosmo -can fall asleep within seconds -sans ahh shoes -has fallen asleep mid way though a conversation one to many times -can give you good or bad dreams -he can tell what you're dreaming about just by looking at you -loves blankets especially the heavy ones -gave dandy a bad dream bc he was petty -his hair is like clouds very very soft like pillow -brings around a pillow -has to DRAG dandy & cosmo to bed -like warm things -knows a bunch about the night sky just ask -apart of book club gang -sleeps in a hammock -can speak Japanese, and Korean -ooo he can do magic ooooo -DO NOT AND I MAN DO NOT LET THIS MAN NEAR BLUEBERRYS JUST DONT TRUST ME -the tallest toon at GV tho he's aways in that shrimp pose so you can't tell -he's weak af bro can't even run that much without having to huff and puff for 2 hours after💔💔 -this man snores loud I mean (setting: sleepover) Astro: HONK SHOOOOO HONK SHOO Rnd: get me out if here- (for once I agree-) Pebble: Woof... Dandy: jokes on you I don't sleep! -he drinks coffee and sometimes just eats the beans? (Astro:what? Good snack and energy!) -way too light as light as Connie -he doesn't glow its his hat that glows -he likes music he might be gloomy but my boy likes him some pop!(no literally the song named pop) -he also headbutts toon like shelly but even tho he's no longer a kid he still does it (it hurts) -he has guitar (think light music club from twst but with book club) -I think he smells like blueberrys and coffee (odd combo) -he likes moonflowers -can cant cook or bake don't let him in the kitchen ever (he can't even make a sandwich :( ) -hes... he's A MOTH!! -he can glide but he can't fly like Connie -"watches" football I say "watches" bc he falls asleep not even half way in -he sleeps how ever everywhere else but I think he likes sleeping face down -fav foods? Astro: uhh pasta,tomato soup uhm shri- shrimpo:... Astro:..oh -he has glasses but never uses them he looks a lil dumb -his wings can show is emotions sometimes Cosmo: made some cookies for you- *cosmo nearly gets blown away by winds of 300 mph* Astro: very kind of you cosmo thank you Cosmo: HELP ME- *hanging on to a poll for life*

(I hope periods are abolished from this universe forever)

[paradoxcase]

@wellhappybirthdaytomeiguess:

'baby-soft skin hammocks'...from a necromancer..gives me the icks.

I mean, I don't think it's any more gross/weird than a lot of other stuff that has happened in the book so far. John already wears baby fingerbones in his hair for adornment

I find it fascinating that John says he could cure cancer....and yet we have Cytherea...

@turtletotem:

@wellhappybirthdaytomeiguess John could have cured Cytherea :) at any time :) instead of letting her suffer for 10,000 years :)))) no wonder she wanted him dead

Oh wow, I didn't make that connection, but yeah, he could have. But instead he really was just like, the only way for you to live is if you become a Lyctor and help me kill resurrection beasts while you suffer from cancer for 10,000 years. I can't imagine what he was thinking, but I also have no idea what he was thinking by just letting the other Lyctors think that the cavalier had to die to achieve Lyctorhood

@eye-lantern:

For the Jesus comparison the nurse gave: she isn't saying it was what made the Romans kill him. Jesus (in the texts) knew that he gave too much for his own good. And he knew the Romans would kill him and he knew Judas would betray him. But he did it anyway because he gave himself to others entirely, even if I meant it killed him. She is saying John needs take care of himself even if it meant refusing to help some people, or he would die wich doesn't help anyone.

Which makes an interesting parallel with the actual Jesus parallel that is Griddle, who died for someone on the iron fence instead of a wooden cross,for someone that would have preferred her to live even if it meant not receiving her help. Gideon spends the entire first book helping everyone, without asking for anything in return, and it litteraly kills her. Maybe twice if we consider avultion. John may have had the apostles but Gideon had the self-sacrificial drive

Oh, right, I guess the sort of canonical interpretation is that Jesus died in order to save everyone else, etc. That is an interesting parallel, I wonder, since presumably Gideon is getting brought back to life at some point, probably by John I would guess, if John is ever going to tell her this story and this particular piece of advice he received?

I don't know if Jod is dreaming with her. To me it could absolutely have happened and she is just dreaming of a memory. The narrator never says something out of place, except for calling him lord, and he only says Harrow. Everything else could be an actual event where names are "translated" to something that makes more sense to harrow, and the crossed-out names are not replaced because she has no idea what to replace it by

@racefortheironthrone:

My interpretation is that Harrow is semi-lucid dreaming Alecto's memories.

That's true, I guess, this could just all be Alecto's memory. But if John telling Alecto this story actually happened, I guess that means Alecto was not around to perceive it at all while it was happening?

@eye-lantern:

I do like that we can get a vague time frame and something more of John's religious background when says he went to Parachute when he was younger. So he's most likely a Millenial or Gen Xer (since it seems that festival was from the early 90s to 2014). Not sure that says anything deep about him, but I find it interesting.

Ahh, that part didn't mean anything to me, haha. That's interesting, though, I'd sort of expected this story to be happening further in the future than that, like the way he is describing people's thoughts about climate change don't really align with the way they are currently, I don't think, it feels like this is happening at a later date, and John isn't described as looking old in the story. Like, if John is Gen X, he'd be 40 at the absolute minimum right now, in 20 years from now he'd be 60+, and I had the impression that this had to be least like 20 years in the future