daisy. adult. i write the lo’ak and neteyam content i wish existed. requests open indefinitely.
rules + masterlist + recent + wips

oozey mess
Not today Justin
trying on a metaphor
ojovivo
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
NASA
taylor price

No title available

tannertan36

Origami Around

No title available

if i look back, i am lost
occasionally subtle
Sweet Seals For You, Always
hello vonnie
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
we're not kids anymore.
Sade Olutola
AnasAbdin

seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Italy

seen from Philippines

seen from Malaysia
seen from Peru

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@littleikran
daisy. adult. i write the lo’ak and neteyam content i wish existed. requests open indefinitely.
rules + masterlist + recent + wips
hii^^ I was scrolling through the neteyam x reader tag and I saw ur post asking for ideas.. so if it isn't much of bother I could give you a prompt, sorry if it's too unprofessional I don't usually send in requests that often.
But like you could maybe write about the characters', in my slightly biased preference would be:neteyam, reactions after you drag your tail underneath their chin when walking by just to tease them. Like how cats usually do, when the walk infront of another cat and they do the thing where their tail brushes the underside of the other cat's face. I don't actually know why they do that but I always thought it was cute.
That's all from me^^ u don't have to answer this if u don't want to at all. I totally understand, I write too sometimes. Still, I wish you to have good day and take care!
catching neteyam off guard
pairing: aged up neteyam x female na’vi! reader
content tags: fluff, mutual pining, pre-relationship, tail touching, all lowercase intended
author’s note: my first req (⌒▽⌒) tysm! i hope you like what i’ve come up with!
the light is already softening toward evening by the time you make your way back through the village, sun sinking low enough to gild the tops of the trees, the whole clan settling into that unhurried hour before the fires get lit.
you hadn’t meant to take the long way past the weapons rack, or maybe you had, some quiet part of you steering your feet there without really asking permission first, because it’s been two days and you missed him more than you probably should for two people who aren’t even mated yet.
you see him before he sees you, and something in your chest goes soft and slow at the sight — neteyam cross-legged on the packed earth, arrows scattered across the mat in front of him, brow furrowed in that particular way he gets when he’s trying to do something carefully, tongue poking against his cheek, utterly unaware of the world around him.
he hasn’t seen you in two days, caught up in duties and hunting plans and whatever else keeps him tangled up as the future olo’eyktan, and you find yourself just watching him for a moment before you move, drinking in the small, familiar details you’d forgotten how much you’d missed — the line of concentration between his brows, the careful way his hands work.
as you pass behind him you let your tail drag slow and deliberate beneath his chin, practically a soft, wordless hello, something private between only the two of you.
his hands go still instantly, the arrow forgotten mid-turn — something in him snaps to attention at the contact, like something in him had been waiting for exactly that without realising.
“—hey.” his voice catches on the word, rougher than usual, like his breath hadn’t quite settled from the surprise yet.
you don’t stop walking, not yet, just glance back over your shoulder to find him already twisting to look for you, eyes searching before they land and go soft with something unmistakable.
“hi,” you say, quiet, letting the your lips curve into a smile. “don’t let me interrupt.”
“you’re not interrupting anything.” he’s already setting the arrow down, careless with it in a way he never is with his work, because apparently nothing matters more right now than closing the distance between you. “i haven’t seen you in two days.”
“i know,” you say, softer than you mean to, something aching and fond in it. “i missed you.”
something in him loosens at that, you can see it — the way his throat works, the way his ears go warm even before he’s said anything back, like your honesty caught him off guard and he doesn’t quite know what to do with how much he feels in response.
he’s up and moving before he’s fully decided to, brushing bark shavings from his knees, crossing the space between you in a few unhurried but urgent steps, like his whole body just needed to be closer to you and stopped hesitating altogether.
“i missed you too,” he says, quieter now that he’s close enough that no one else needs to hear it. “more than i probably should say out loud.”
“why shouldn’t you say it?”
“because then you’ll know,” he admits, a little sheepish, ducking his head, “and i’ll have no dignity left around you at all.”
you laugh at that, soft and warm, and he laughs too, helpless about it, the sound low and easy between you.
his tail finds yours without him seeming to think about it at all, curling loose and familiar around it like it belongs there, like it’s done this a hundred times even though every time still makes something in his chest go tight and warm.
“two days felt like a lot longer than it should have,” he admits, quiet, like it costs him something to say plainly instead of dancing around it the way he usually does.
“yeah?” you tease gently, though your chest goes warm at the admission.
“yeah.” he admits, ducking his head slightly, like the honesty is harder to give than he expected. “i don’t think i realized how much until now.”
“i think about you a lot,” he says after a moment, “more than i probably should before we’ve—,” he doesn’t finish the sentence, but you both know what he means, the word sitting unspoken and warm between you.
there’s a beat where neither of you says anything, just the quiet hum of the village settling into evening around you, his tail still curled slow and sure around yours, the space between your bodies smaller than it was a minute ago without either of you quite deciding to close it.
“i think about you too,” you tell him, honest, watching the way relief and something deeper flood into his face all at once. “all the time. it’s a little inconvenient, honestly.”
“inconvenient how?”
“hard to concentrate on anything else.”
that gets a real, delighted laugh out of him, the kind that softens his whole face, and he reaches up slowly to tuck a strand of hair back from your cheek, fingers lingering a beat longer than they need to, careful the way he’s careful with everything that matters to him.
“we should probably do something about that,” he murmurs, “the inconvenience.”
“probably,” you agree, leaning into his hand without meaning to.
neither of you moves for a long moment, just standing there in the gold, fading light, his tail wound patient and sure around yours, both of you caught somewhere between what you already are and what you’re clearly, quietly becoming — close enough now that the space left between you feels less like distance and more like anticipation.
masterlist — askbox
watching lo’ak sleep
pairing: aged up lo’ak sully x female reader
content tags: fluff, lo’ak being unfairly pretty in the morning, established relationship, reader catches feelings all over again, soft & sleepy, all lowercase intended
author’s note: a lo’ak post to start off my blog!
the light hasn’t fully broken yet, just a pale blue creeping in through the canopy overhead, seeping through the woven walls and turning everything the color of deep water, like you’re both still resting somewhere underneath the surface of the morning instead of inside it. you’ve woken before him, which almost never happens, because lo’ak can sleep through anything — through birdsong, through tuk shouting somewhere outside, through the whole forest stretching and waking up around him without him so much as stirring. he always says sleep is sacred, like it’s a thing owed to him after everything his body carries through the day, and this morning, watching him like this, you’re almost grateful for it.
you stay still, propped up on one elbow, and let yourself just look at him, unhurried, the way you rarely get to.
the light catches him in a way that doesn’t feel fair to anyone else who might see it and not understand what they’re looking at. it catches the damp curl of his lashes, still dark and heavy with sleep, throwing small soft shadows down the curve of his cheek every time his breathing shifts. his bioluminescent freckles have dimmed to the faintest glow now, scattered loosely across his skin like something painted there on purpose, too deliberate and too pretty to be an accident of biology. you’ve seen him in firelight before, edges gone gold and restless, and in moonlight, quiet and blue and far away, and soaked through from the ocean with salt drying on his sun-kissed skin — and somehow none of those compare to this, to just morning light and his slow even breathing and the complete, unguarded stillness of him, like the version of him that exists only for you has finally stopped performing even for himself.
one arm is slung loosely over your waist, heavy and warm, like even unconsciously some quiet part of him is still keeping track of exactly where you are and isn’t willing to let that go. his tail moves every so often in slow lazy curls against the mat, contracting and releasing like it’s dreaming on its own, somewhere separate from the rest of him entirely.
you reach out, barely touching, and trace the line of one of his queue beads where it rests against his collarbone, feeling the smooth worn shape of it under your fingertip. he only exhales, long and even, and shifts closer in his sleep, chasing the warmth of your hand without ever fully waking for it, like his body trusts you more than his mind is even awake enough to register.
you think, not for the first time and probably not for the last, that you could stay exactly like this forever and never once grow bored of it, never once want to be anywhere else.
his ear twitches once. then again. you go still, certain you’ve finally woken him, but he only burrows his face deeper into the curve of your shoulder and mumbles something low and unintelligible that might be your name and might be nothing at all. you smile against the top of his head and press a slow kiss to his forehead before settling back in to keep watching, certain you still have at least another hour before he’ll properly surface.
you’re wrong by about ten minutes.
his eyes open slowly, unfocused at first, blinking hard against the gray morning light filtering in. then they find you, find you already looking, and something flickers across his face before the familiar grin even has a chance to settle into place — something caught off guard, almost vulnerable, like he hadn’t expected to open his eyes to exactly this.
he doesn’t say anything right away. he just looks back at you, quiet for once, and finds your hand where it still rests near his collarbone, pressing it flat against his chest like he wants you to feel the exact moment his heartbeat picks up beneath your palm.
“how long,” he says finally, voice low and thick with sleep, “was i just lying here lookin’ stupid.”
“you didn’t look stupid.”
“i always look stupid when i sleep. neteyam told me i drool.”
“you don’t drool.” you pause, biting back the grin that threatens to escape. “much.”
he groans and drags a hand down his face, but he’s fighting back a smile the entire time, and it’s not working. “great. so you’ve just been lying over here, studying my drooling, unconscious face like it’s something worth looking at—,”
“i was watching the light on you,” you say, before you can think better of it, before you can stop yourself from handing him something that honest. “that’s all.”
that actually stops him completely. the teasing drops out of his face for a second, replaced by something quieter and more careful, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with a sentence like that this early, with no warning. his thumb moves slow against the back of your hand, absent, like he’s not even aware he’s doing it.
“yeah?” he says, softer now, all the usual edge gone out of his voice. “what’s it doing.”
“making you look unfairly good for someone who just woke up.”
he laughs at that, low and a little disbelieving, and pulls you in until your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing the same small space of air. “you’re in trouble,” he murmurs against your skin. “saying things like that before i’ve even had the chance to wake up properly. ’s not fair.”
you hum out a sound of acknowledgement, “go back to sleep, then.”
“can’t now.” his eyes are already drifting shut again anyway, a slow smile pulling at his mouth as he tucks you in closer against his chest. “you ruined it. now i gotta stay awake and be unfairly good-looking on purpose.”
you feel the laugh building in your own chest before it ever makes it out of you. he stays there a while longer, eyes closed, mouth still curved, just breathing you in like waking up isn’t something he needs to rush through, not when this — you, here, still tangled in him — is exactly what’s waiting on the other side of it.
masterlist — askbox
i wanna write for neteyam n lo’ak
send me as many requests as you want (⋟﹏⋞)