#sulli stuff

[sailorjisunq]

설리

[l3viat8an]

MC:*pacing back-and-forth in front of Asmo’s bed while ranting about their first kiss with Satan* WHAT THE FUCK?? I WAS ARGUING WITH HIM AND I SAID “OOOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD! YOU LOOK STUPID RIGHT NOW!” AND GUESS WHAT? HE DID!! SATAN KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK??? HOW?? THAT WORKED??? WHAT DO I DO NEXT!!??

Asmo:*watching MC and trying not to giggle* Argue harder, next time~ then maybe you two will actually have sex ♡

[dahypoems]

✦⠀ ▒⠀᭝ 䨻⠀🦪 ☆⠀▒ 𖣠⠀꒰ 𝟷𝟸 . ᥆𝟿 ꒱ ᥀ 𓂂

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[d0llcuries]

could you make a one-shot or hc (idk) of things neteyam does to show love to his partner and loving and deep thoughts he has about her? please

neteyam isn’t shy when it comes to showing love, especially when it’s you.

he perceives love as something to be demonstrated openly, proudly.

from the moment he decided that you were the one for him, it was as though something primal and unshakable settled into his bones, dictating his every move around you with a sense of purpose.

that being said, hunting is one of the first things he uses to display his affection.

it is what he knows, what he has been trained to do since his hands were old enough to grip a bow. but when it comes to you, hunting takes on a new significance.

he does not just hunt for survival—he hunts to provide for you, to ensure that you have the finest meat, the best cuts. when he returns from a successful hunt, he brings the kill to you with a quiet pride, his chest puffed out just a little more as he lays the offering at your feet.

he watches your reaction closely, waiting for the moment your lips curve into that soft smile that makes his heart race, waiting for the look of approval that makes the hours of tracking, stalking, and fighting worth every second.

his hands never stray far. public displays of affection are a given with him

he is unapologetic in his need to touch you. he doesn’t care if his family sees. in fact, he relishes it. if he senses even the slightest bit of fluster in you, it only encourages him.

if it makes you blush? good. that means he’ll do it again—so casual about it, like he doesn’t even realize.

he relishes in the way you shy away, pretending to be annoyed, but he knows the truth—you love the attention just as much as he loves giving it.

but goodness it wouldn't kill him to show a little more propriety.

he purrs, too, openly and without a trace of shame.

it doesn't matter if it’s just you two are alone or in the middle of a crowd. you touch him? he purrs. you laugh? he purrs. it’s automatic, and he doesn’t try to hide it, his chest rumbling every time you’re close.

he makes sure you hear it, because it’s for you.

your mere presence makes him so instinctively happy why should he surpress that?

he's so inadvertently supportive whenever you do anything.

when you cook him a meal, for example, the second the food touches his lips, he’s looking at you like you just saved his life. close to tears and everything, he’s going on about how he’s never tasted anything better, and he’ll probably say the same thing next time.

he genuinely believes that what you’ve made is a gift, something special just for him, and his heart swells with the knowledge that you’ve put effort into caring for him in this way.

my favourite animal is neteyam when he doesn’t receive at least three kisses or more from you in a day.

can you blame him? his days are long and exhausting, spent with his father barking orders and chasing after tuk to keep her from wandering off. so, of course, he looks forward to the moment he can feel your soft lips on his, the one moment of peace he can count on.

if you withhold a kiss, it’s like a stab in the chest. his ears flatten, tail droops, and his big amber eyes well up like he’s been abandoned in the middle of the forest. there’s a desperate edge to his voice, thick with disbelief—how could you deny him?

he’ll practically sink to his knees, hands reaching for you, putting on the most dramatic performance ever just for you.

if you decide to tease him on a particularly hard day where he doesn't have the patience required for such theatrics, he'll just scoop you up and haul you over his shoulder, kissing you until you can’t remember what you were supposed to be doing.

it’s not negotiable—three kisses, minimum, every day, or he’ll never let you hear the end of it.

neteyam loves deeply, fiercely, and in every little gesture, he makes sure you feel it.

he wonders if you know how much space you take up in his head. he thinks about you constantly.

one instance of this is when he's left alone with his thoughts on a particularly long hunting trip that lasted more than one day.

neteyam lays on the cold ground, the stars above him stretching endlessly, and yet, despite their beauty, all he can think about is the empty space beside him. it’s strange, how the absence of something so small—your quiet, rhythmic snores—can leave him feeling so lost. the other hunters of the group snore but that does not guide him to sleep quite as easily as your sounds do. he chuckles to himself, though there’s no one around to hear it. she would never believe me if i told her, he thinks, swears she doesn’t snore. but you do. soft little sounds that lull him to sleep every night.

without them, the silence feels oppressive. he shifts, trying to get comfortable, but nothing works. the coolness of the forest at night wraps around him, but it doesn’t bring the peace he’s used to. not like when he’s with you. back home, when he can feel the warmth of your body pressed against his, when the sound of your breathing fills the space between his heartbeats. it’s then he realizes how much he depends on those little things, the ones you would never even think about.

he closes his eyes, trying to picture your face. eywa, it’s only been a few days, and i already miss her this much. it’s embarrassing, really.

his mind wanders to the rosy tip of your flat nose. it looks just like the petals of a lortsyawll, he thinks absentmindedly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

he swears, if he could just hear your laugh, even for a moment, it would make this whole hunt more bearable. i hate being away from her.

he shifts again, turning on his side and curling his body into itself, hoping that maybe if he closes his eyes tight enough, he’ll be able to pretend you’re here. but the weight of your absence is heavy. the way your soft hand always finds his when you walk together. the sound of your voice, soft and low when you’re sleepy. the way you tease him, lighthearted but full of affection. he misses the way you press your forehead to his when you’re trying to comfort him, even over something small. he needs that now—needs you.

nothing feels right without you beside him. the hunt is going well, but even the thrill of the chase can’t distract him from the fact that, at the end of the day, when the adrenaline fades and the world quiets down, it’s you he longs for. i need her, he admits to himself, the thought settling deep in his chest. i always need her.

you are always there, in the back of his mind, shaping his every action, his every decision. he doesn’t need anyone else’s approval, doesn’t care what others think—as long as you’re proud of him, as long as you’re his, that’s all that matters.

she’s everything, he thinks, for the hundredth time that day, and yet, it still feels like an understatement.

i should be asleep but this request was too good!!

[nattikay]

Neteyam and Kiri all cozy in their little baby basket, lined with soft yerik hide and mama's blanket

[oakbuggy]

a little p2 to this post !

full thing on ao3 as always hehe

[zethsmo]

fairy kiri for a collab im doing w my friend :33 also letting yall know im lowkey gonna turn this into a multi account 🙏🙏

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Do you write Jake and human!reader? SO SORRY, I have the nastiest, sluttiest size kink I’m-

YES I DOOOO. I have a few drafts I just haven't uploaded 🤭🤭

Here's a small sneak peek tho:

“Shh, easy, easy,” Jake coos, caressing your thighs as he drips lube on his cock, ensuring he's slick so it won't hurt you.

You're in headquarters, in your bedroom, and well, what's wrong with taking advantage of the fact that it's just the two of you in here?

Except, of course, for the fact that Jake's cock is huge, and you're not sure it'll even fit.

You take a deep, shaky breath and nod as he aligns himself with your entrance.

“If you want me to stop, you tell me, 'kay?” he says to you.

“Yes,” you reply, taking a deep breath as Jake slides in. The stretch he offers is painful, a sharp sting that shoots through you until the thick head of his cock makes it inside of you, and you sigh softly as the pain decreases.

“You okay?” Jake asks, your tiny body caged under his massive one.

You nod. “'m fine,” you reply, hips starting to grind against him in a silent plead for more.

Jake grunts. “Slow, baby, take it slow.”

You whimper. “Need y'so bad,” you mewl, relishing in the sensation of his enormous hands on your hips. “Want y'to fuck me already.”

Jake chuckles lowly as he sinks deeper inside you, your tiny pussy so tight around him that he can barely keep himself together. “So fuckin' small,” he groans. “You tiny little thing, 'm gonna fuckin' ruin you one 'f these days.”

“Yes,” you whine. “Please, fuck, I need it so bad.”

Jake shakes his head. “Not until you get used to my cock, baby. I'll hurt you,” he tells you, pushing his cock as deep as it'll go, until the thick head touches your cervix. But you're barely taking half of him. Jake chuckles quietly. “Someday, kid, I'll have my entire cock in you. When you finally learn to take all of it.”

You mewl, mind, body and soul lost to the pleasure. You swear you can feel him in your lungs from how deep he is, swear he's too deep in you for you to ever recover.

Jake glances between your bodies and is pleasantly surprised to find that his cock is bulging through your stomach, and as he starts thrusting, he can't take his eyes off how deep inside you he is.

You're a blubbering, mewling mess, your body writhing under Jake as your little hands rise to his large arms, and you hold on for dear life. Your nails dig into the hard muscles there, feeling them flex with every move he makes.

“Goddamn,” Jake hisses as you clench tighter; so tight, he can barely move inside of your cunt. “Relax a little f'r me, hm?”

You nod weakly, doing your best to do as asked, and then Jake's pounding you, his cock bruising your cervix, his girth almost tearing you in half. He presses against your g-spot, making you moan and gasp.

Tears of pleasure brim over your eyes, spilling as your eyes flutter shut and you cry out, “Fuck, Daddy! More, please!”

Jake loves it when you call him that, so, obviously, he obliges, using one of his huge hands to find your clit, his long, rough finger tracing over the excited, needy nub.

The feel of Jake's hugeness compared to you drives you crazy. The way his finger covers your entire clit, the way his cock is too long to fit in you, the way you feel like a measly little doll under him...fuck, it does things to you.

And then Jake's kissing you, his teeth dragging over your lips, his tongue tracing your jaw, his rough voice saying, “Come for me, girl. Come on daddy's cock, hm?"

You whimper, body shaking, legs trembling. The pain Jake's cock gave you is long gone, confused with the pleasure until all you feel is unmanageable ecstasy.

Your orgasm crawls up your body, blossoming deep in your core and reaching your chest, your limbs, making your thoughts hazy. The pleasure is coiling within you, ready to snap, and you gasp, “Daddy! Daddy, please!”

And Jake knows that tone. He knows exactly what it means, so he keeps his pace steady and fucks you until you're hurdling over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you and making you sob, delighted, at the relief his cock has offered.

The way you tighten around Jake while you come pushes him to his own orgasm, his load spilling inside of you, too much for your poor, stuffed pussy to bear, and it drips out of you even as he keeps filling you with his seed.

You mewl lowly when he pulls out of you, leaning back to see the fuckton of his cum that drips from your puffy cunt. With one long, thick finger, Jake pushes his cum back inside you, and you shudder.

“Keep daddy's cum there for me, yeah?” he says. “I like knowing it'll be dripping out of you all day.”

-----

Blog masterlist

[bugmort]

残念だ、君がいなくなると寂しくなるのは分かっている

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

𖦹   𓏵 ﹒ ｡

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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[sportsthoughts]

Day 155 of offseason gifs - In The Room S07E06

[iamthejam]

top gun maverick as txt posts!!

[sailorjisunq]

i love it when you wear your hair down over your shoulder

[l3viat8an]

Satan: Shakespeare wasn't lying when he said that tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day.

MC: Neither was Smashmouth when he said that the years start coming and they don't stop coming and they don't stop coming-

Satan: Why are you like this?

MC:*shrugs*

[dahypoems]

꒰͡⠀ ː ⠀𓇼 𓈒 ⠀᪤ ｡ ﾟ ⊹ ❲ 𓆉 𓂂 ❳ ◯

꒰͡⠀ ː ⠀𓇼 𓈒 ⠀᪤ ｡ ﾟ ⊹ ❲ 𓆉 𓂂 ❳ ◯

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[d0llcuries]

LUVVSICK

pairing(s): neteyam x fem na'vi! reader

summary: hcs (sorta) of neteyam having a crush on you and him lolly-gagging around until finally pulling it together to court you officially!

before neteyam even realizes he has a crush on you, there are signs—tiny, almost insignificant to him at first, but glaringly obvious in retrospect. it’s the way his eyes naturally gravitate toward you in any group, how he always positions himself somewhere in your line of sight. his heart does this strange, uneven lurch when he catches glimpses of you, a sensation so new and unfamiliar that it leaves him feeling slightly off-kilter. he notices the way you tuck a stray braid behind your ear when you're deep in thought or how your lips press together in concentration when you're sorting herbs. there's a quickening in his pulse when you do this—an ache that flutters low in his stomach. he tells himself it’s just because you’re part of the clan, a valuable gatherer, someone he should keep an eye on for the sake of the tribe. but deep down, he knows better, and the way his breath hitches slightly when you pass by is a telltale sign.

it starts with small things—nothing too obvious, nothing that could raise suspicion in his own mind. like the way he volunteers to help when you're assigned to tasks near the outskirts of the village, far from the busy commotion. his heart races when you smile gratefully, the sensation spreading warmth through his chest. it’s subtle, like when he offers to carry the heavier baskets of fruit back from your morning gatherings, even though you can handle it on your own. there’s a quiet thrill in being close to you, in the way your fingers occasionally brush against his when you hand him something, sending sparks up his arm. and when you laugh, that soft, melodic sound, it sinks into him, echoes in his bones, making him feel weightless. at first, he brushes it off as nothing. surely, he’s just being polite, right? he’s neteyam, after all, the eldest son, the responsible one. but still, there’s a tiny flicker of something more that he can’t quite shake, an intoxicating pull toward you that he’s never felt with anyone else.

he finds excuses to be around you, little reasons to linger longer than he should. there’s an undeniable spark that makes his heart stutter in his chest when you catch him staring too long, when his gaze locks with yours, and he feels the air grow thicker between you. maybe it’s how he’ll sit nearby while you weave new nets or repair tools, his fingers occasionally fidgeting with a stray blade of grass as he talks about his duties or his family. or how he always seems to know when you’re about to head out to gather, offering to accompany you under the guise of wanting to “patrol the area.” yet, even on those patrols, he’s quieter than usual, stealing glances your way when he thinks you aren’t looking. the sound of your voice, the way it lingers in the air like music, sends shivers down his spine.

and then there’s the way he starts to notice the smallest details about you. how you braid your hair differently when it's hot outside, the delicate patterns of your jewelry that change with the seasons. his heart skips when he realizes he's memorized these things, like each detail about you has etched itself into his mind without him even realizing it. he memorizes the colors of the beads you wear, the ones you crafted yourself, how each one seems to hold a story that he’s quietly fascinated by. it gets to the point where he can recognize your scent—something earthy and sweet, like freshly picked fruit and wildflowers. every time he catches it, his senses buzz, his pulse quickening, and his mind racing with thoughts he’s never allowed himself to entertain. he’d never say it out loud, but when he’s close enough to catch it, it fills him with a mix of comfort and excitement so overwhelming it leaves him dizzy. still, he doesn’t quite understand it. not yet. he's obsessed!!

he doesn’t get away with it, of course. lo’ak, always quick to catch on, teases him relentlessly, making exaggerated sighs and dreamy faces every time you’re mentioned. “bro, just got talk to her! you look like a stalker, it's sad.” lo’ak teases, who only glares in return. kiri joins in also, even tuk, who’s usually innocent in these matters, giggles and teases him when she catches him staring a little too long at you during meals or ceremonies. he tries to shrug it off, act unaffected, but his ears burn, and his heart races every time his siblings bring it up. his mother, though, is the worst—every time she catches that soft, faraway look in his eyes, she gets teary, wiping the corner of her eye as she watches him. “my little neteyam, in love,” she murmurs with a smile, and though it makes him want to disappear into the ground, there’s a quiet part of him that doesn’t mind so much, because it’s you they’re all talking about.

when he starts courting you, though, it's not an immediate shift. it's slow, almost too subtle for him to even realize what he’s doing. his heart races more frequently now, especially when he catches himself staring at your hands, imagining them weaving beads or sorting herbs. it begins with the way he pays just a little more attention when you're speaking, hanging onto your words like they're the most important thing he’s heard all day. your voice—how soft and kind it is—reverberates in his chest, making his pulse quicken. he listens, truly listens, and stores away bits of your conversations like they're sacred. when you mention something in passing—a plant you’ve been meaning to find, a bead color you’ve run out of—he’ll make a mental note. days later, he’ll show up with that exact plant, that exact bead, offering it casually like it was no big deal. but inside, there’s a nervous flutter, a hope that you notice the effort, his heart pounding as he waits for your reaction, unsure why he cares so much.

he becomes protective in ways that aren’t immediately obvious. his heart clenches when he thinks of anything happening to you, a strange, tight sensation that makes him restless. it’s not that he hovers or tries to shield you—he respects your independence far too much for that. instead, it’s in the way he quietly makes sure you're always safe, checking the areas around your usual gathering spots before you arrive, ensuring no dangerous creatures are nearby. or how he watches from a distance when you’re working, just in case. the idea of something or someone hurting you makes his skin crawl, an overwhelming urge to keep you safe bubbling up in his chest, even if he doesn’t fully understand it. his worry is silent, never voiced, but you can feel it in the way his eyes soften when you catch him staring too long, how he’ll offer his hand to help you down from a high ledge or through a tricky patch of forest terrain.

and then there are the gifts. in na’vi culture, gifts are important, a sign of affection and care, and neteyam starts leaving small things for you—a particularly vibrant flower, a perfectly shaped stone, an intricately carved piece of wood. each time, his pulse quickens, heart hammering in his chest as he places the items somewhere he knows you'll find them. nothing grand or overt, just little tokens that show he’s been thinking about you. and oh, he’s so awkward about it, too. his heart races when he drops them off without a word, sometimes not even looking you in the eye when he does. if you ask about it, he’ll brush it off, mumbling something about how he just thought you might like it, his ears twitching slightly with embarrassment, his palms suddenly clammy. but his pulse doesn’t settle for hours afterward.

the teasing starts soon after. he pokes fun at you in the softest, most endearing ways, never cruel, always playful. his heart flutters when you banter back, your laughter filling the space between you like sunlight. he’ll make comments about how you get lost in your work, or how you always seem to have a smudge of dirt on your face after a long day of gathering. but beneath the teasing, there’s a tenderness. a desire to see you smile, to make you laugh, because there's something about the way your eyes light up when you laugh that makes his heart stumble in his chest. it’s exhilarating, making him feel lighter, freer. sometimes, when you’re not looking, he lets his gaze linger on your smile, wondering how he could ever get used to something so... captivating. the way your laughter softens and your gaze meets his sends his heart into overdrive, every time.

his jealousy is quiet, subtle, the kind he’d never admit to. but when he sees other guys laughing with you, spending time with you, his heart clenches, his stomach twisting in a way that makes his breath catch. he can’t help the small tightening in his chest, a gnawing feeling that tugs at him in ways he doesn’t quite understand. he won’t say anything, won’t act on it, but there’s a shift in his demeanor, the slightest tension in his shoulders. maybe he’ll stand a little closer to you afterward, a silent claim, even if he doesn’t fully understand it himself.

from that moment on, his efforts become more deliberate, but still, in that neteyam way—quiet, respectful, never overbearing. he’ll start lingering a little longer when you’re alone together, letting the silences stretch out, hoping you’ll fill them with your thoughts, your voice. he wants to know everything about you—what you think about when you’re alone, what dreams you have, what fears. he starts touching you more, little, fleeting gestures—a hand on your arm, a brush of his fingers against yours when he hands you something. each time, it sends a thrill down his spine, a reminder of just how much he wants to be close to you.

with his word, neteyam is quiet, yes, but when he speaks to you now, it’s softer, more personal. he’ll compliment you, not just on your appearance but on your skills, your intelligence, your kindness. he’ll talk about your future, in vague terms at first, testing the waters, but slowly, his words become more pointed. he starts imagining a life with you, and he’s not subtle about it. he’ll mention how you’d make a great mother one day, or how your skills as a gatherer would be invaluable to the family he hopes to build.

he starts inviting you on more personal adventures—flights with his ikran, exploring hidden parts of the forest, places only he knows. these aren’t just casual trips. they’re moments meant to show you that you’re special to him, that he wants to share his world with you, the parts of himself he doesn’t show to just anyone.and when he finally tells you how he feels, it’s not some grand confession. it’s soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s still not entirely sure you’ll feel the same. but his eyes, his touch—they say everything he doesn’t. they tell you that you’ve been on his mind for longer than he realized, that he’s been falling for you in ways he never expected.

and when you finally say something in return, his whole world tilts on its axis, and he can’t help but wonder why he hadn’t seen it sooner.

word count: 1,776

if u have an criticism (constructive or not) feel free to voice it ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

[nattikay]