Written by Frank Ocean🪶 @rqvenn22 - Tumblr Blog

Everything on repeat 🔁🤍

does someone know this??

there was a fanfic about reader saving neteyam in the final scene of atwow and then helping him get better in her "house" that was in the middle of the jungle? I think the reader was a recombinant??

I can't remember the name or the autor, if you know please tell me 😭😭

Sorry, English isn't my first lenguage!!

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x human reader

jackkdaniels

when i was a kid i decided that killing people was bad therefore war was bad therefore the military was evil. and adults would tell me it's more nuanced than that and i would understand when i grew up. well i'm a grown up now and idk i still think that killing people is bad and war is bad and the military is evil

purpldology

Do you think he got the job?

chaosbarnes

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

kosmogrl

rqvenn22

and my airpods charger literally started burning 😢

scorpiomoon-444

how big is the AVATAR fandom? reblog if you belong

how many of us are there before/after avatar fire and ash?

neon-junkie

I've always found it odd when people refuse to read fanfics that are works in progress. Like, you don't want to get excited for updates?? You don't want to cheer the author on?? You don't want to watch the fic progress and grow in real time??? Okay...

rylandsgrace

#Icon

eternalslover

OMG I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO WRITE FOR SPIDER SOCORRO BECAUSE IM NOT EVEN JOKING, NO ONE WRITES FOR HIM

LOOK AT HIM

MY LITTLE SKRUNKLY, POOKIE

I WANT HIM SO BAD, COULD DO NO WRONG

SOMEONE PLS WRITE FOR HIM

HEADCANONS, BLURBS, DRABBLES, SMUT (aged up ofc), FLUFF, ANGST ANYTHING PLEASE

IM SO DESPERATE

loaksky

— 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮

the deets — lo'ak is the black sheep in the family, clinging to honor by a precarious thread. you are the well-loved songstress in the tribe. he should resent you for being everything he's not, but his fickle heart can't bring him to do so.

the who — lo'ak x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 10.2k (rip yall)

the tags — (one-sided) rivals-to-lovers, angsty angsty, hurt / comfort, reader gives lo'ak a big ol smooch (perhaps more than one), lo’ak is the biggest dumbass and because of this he’s mean asf, reader has a big ol heart and just really wants lo’ak to like her, aged!up characters for maturity’s sake.

the warnings — language, lo'ak is in luv but doesn't realize it, he's in denial that the feelings could be reciprocated, this is super dramatic so put your seat belts on!

the notes — was feeling extra sad and wanted to write something self-indulgent. this lovely anon requested something, and i used their ask as inspiration to finish this beast. fine line, bags, and love in dark are the three main songs i listened to finish this, so if you wanna be in your feels, have a listen LMAO. despite all the support, i’m still so mf nervous posting this ejsjsjdjs

masterlist

SOMETHING UGLY KINDLES IN THE PIT of Lo'ak's stomach at the mere mention of your name. It's sour on his tongue, bitter in his brain. He doesn't know when he's started to feel like this, started to feel absolutely dreadful anytime he'd hear the timbre of your voice.

It's warm, thick like nectar and it makes him sick.

Ever since you all were little, the elders crooned over what a great girl you were growing into; strong, intelligent, beautiful. It made him boil how much they'd sing your praises, the high esteem everyone held you in as one of the clan's most talented.

Something dull would pick at him being compared to his older brother, but nothing burned more than being compared to you.

Maybe it's because it's always implied whenever your names share the same sentences, that lingering implication that he could be more like you. The clan fans the flames of your mere existence while Lo'ak is snuffed out like a dying fire.

He hates it. He hates you.

d0llcuries

NOT THIS TIME

pairing(s): neteyam sully x fem! omaticaya! reader + tuktirey sully (platonic) x fem! omaticaya! reader

summary: neteyam lets his little siblings have whatever they want, especially tuktirey. she’s just so cute! how could you say no to that face? usually he would have no problem letting her have what she want but when it came to you, he found himself not wanting to compromise.

author’s note: two posts consecutively?? who am i even?? this is so fun PLEASEEEE send requests :3 i mean if you want. rise and shine avatar fandom it’s time to rise from the dead!

tuk’s affection for you held that peculiar purity only children manage. there was an instinctive possessiveness, lacking any calculated thought, and an unrestrained loyalty that spilled over in every careless touch. when those thin, uneven limbs curled around your waist or her tiny fingers traced a path through the ferns to a mossy nook she’d quietly claimed as yours, neteyam never found reason to doubt it. she’d press her face into your ribs when you sat, call you her extra sister. she was tiny, still missing a back molar, over-enunciating her r sounds, and everything in her life fit neatly into yes or no, want or don’t. she admired you with unfiltered conviction because you never told her no. your lap was warmer than her woven cot, and you told stories with your whole face and let her interrupt them. she always won when you played, and you never brought it up. she started drawing your tail into her sketches. for a long stretch, all of it was uncomplicated and entirely sweet.

fruit started landing in his lap whenever you climbed onto his ikran instead of walking back with tuk. she’d go quiet for a second, then launch a half-ripe piece of yovo with that little flick of her wrist she thought was sneaky. he’d barely sit down beside you at mealtime before she’d twist in from your other side, make noise just to drown him out, latch onto whatever sentence he’d begun since she meant to finish it better. she’d stop playing altogether if you weren’t the one she got to chase. hunter-hunted became something she wouldn’t even consider unless you promised to run slow. one night after you left early, she burst into tears without warning. when their mother pressed, tuk slapped her arm across her eyes and said it wasn’t fair that neteyam had stolen you. whenever he came near, she’d press herself harder into your side. speak louder when he murmured something only for you. your name came out of her mouth first, louder than necessary.

chromemolars

napping neteyam

neteyam x reader

The cool night air rushed past you, your ikran's wings beating a steady rhythm against the wind. Neteyam flew silently beside you, his shoulders slumped, his jaw tight. You didn't need to ask what was wrong; you knew. The raid, the bombing, the fear in his father's eyes—it was all a heavy cloak draped over him. You could feel his turmoil even from a distance, the silent weight of his shame and fear. You said nothing, your presence a quiet reassurance that he wasn't alone.

Suddenly, Jake Sully was there, his ikran's great wings a blur of motion as he pulled alongside you. He gave you a single, knowing nod, a silent command. You understood immediately. He needed to talk to his son, and they needed space. You gave a slight dip of your head in acknowledgment and then urged your ikran forward, leaving them behind in the quiet of the night sky.

The camp was a hive of activity, but Neteyam barely noticed. His ikran landed, and he dismounted, his eyes immediately scanning the crowd. He was looking for you. The guilt and shame from the raid were still a bitter taste in his mouth, but the thought of seeing you, of finding some comfort in your presence, was a small, desperate hope. He searched the faces of the warriors, the children, the healers, but you were nowhere to be found.

He was about to turn away in defeat when he saw Mo'at, the Tsahik, watching him with her calm, wise eyes. He approached her, his gaze pleading.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice low and weary.

Mo'at's lips curled into a gentle, knowing smile. "She is in the forest," she said, her voice a soft hum. She gestured with her head toward the dark expanse of trees beyond the camp. "A lot like your mother, that one. She finds peace in nature."

Neteyam's heart gave a little jolt. He knew exactly where you would be. He gave a small nod of thanks to the Tsahik and then turned, his feet already moving toward the forest, his heart filled with a renewed sense of purpose.

Neteyam’s feet barely touched the ground as he ran, his heart a frantic drumbeat in his chest. Mo’at’s words had given him a direction, and his heart was pulling him toward you. He ran past the familiar trails and into the heart of the forest, the bioluminescent plants glowing under his feet, lighting his path. He knew exactly where you would be, a little clearing high up on the Hallelujah Mountains, a secret place only the two of you knew about.

He reached the clearing, his lungs burning, and there you were. You were sitting on the edge of a cliff, your feet dangling over the massive cave system where the Omatikaya camp lay below. The view was breathtaking—a panoramic vista of the forest, all aglow under the moon's soft light. The air was cool and thin up there, and the only sound was the gentle whoosh of the wind.

You didn't turn around, but you knew he was there. You patted the ground beside you, a silent invitation. He sat down, his tail curling around him, and for a long time, neither of you spoke.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice raw with emotion. "I messed up," he said, the words a bitter confession. "I followed my brother. I put him in danger. My father… he was so angry."

You turned to him then, your eyes soft and understanding. "You did what you thought was right," you said, your voice a gentle hum. "You followed your heart. Your brother needed you."

"But I am the oldest," he said, the words heavy with the weight of his duty. "I am supposed to be the protector. I am supposed to be perfect."

You smiled, a sad, knowing smile. "No one is perfect, Neteyam. Not even your father. You are not just a warrior, you are a brother. You are a son. You are a friend. And sometimes, those things are more important than trying to fulfill your fathers every expectation."

He looked at you then, at your face, glowing softly in the moonlight, at your hair, blowing gently in the wind. In that moment, he felt a sense of peace he hadn't felt all day. You weren't asking him to be a hero, or a protector, or an heir. You were just asking him to be himself. And in that quiet clearing, high above the world, that was enough.

Neteyam’s chest was still heaving slightly from the run, the adrenaline from the raid and the chase now mixing with the quiet comfort of your presence. He watched as you reached out, your fingers gentle as you unhooked his flying visor. You carefully moved the braids he'd secured behind his ear, letting them fall over his shoulder. Your touch emitted peace, a soft contrast to the harsh reality of the day.

You let out a soft laugh, a sound that made his heart feel a little lighter. "You must have run all the way here," you said, your voice laced with amusement. "Still in your war paint and gear." You gestured to his armor and the streaks of paint on his face, which were now smudged from his hurried journey.

He offered a weak smile in return, the first genuine one he'd had all day. "I needed to find you," he admitted, the words simple and true. The air between you was still and quiet, but no longer heavy. It was filled with a gentle understanding, a quiet peace that only you could provide.

You smiled, a gentle, knowing curve of your lips. "Come on," you said softly, your hand finding his. "There's a better place.".

You led him away from the cliff's edge, deeper into the clearing. You moved with an easy familiarity, pulling him toward a massive, ancient tree whose roots were twisted and gnarled like a sleeping giant. At its base was a wide, hollowed-out indent, a natural alcove that was just large enough for the two of you.

You settled inside, leaning back against the cool, smooth wood of the trunk. Neteyam followed, his large frame fitting perfectly against yours. He rested his head against your shoulder, his long tail curling around both of you like a protective shield.

Above you, the forest canopy was a mosaic of glowing leaves, and through the gaps, the two moons of Pandora hung in the velvet sky. The first was a pale, luminous orb, and the other a smaller, blood-red crescent. The only sounds were the soft hum of the forest and the steady beat of your two hearts.

"I am glad you came," you whispered after a long while, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his war paint.

"Me too," he rumbled, the sound vibrating through your body. He didn't say anything more, and he didn't need to. In the quiet darkness, under the light of the two moons, they were simply two hearts beating as one, at peace.

The air grew cooler as the hours bled into one another, but nestled in the hollow of the ancient tree, you and Neteyam remained warm. His breathing deepened, becoming slow and even against your shoulder. Your own eyelids grew heavy, the stress of the day and the peaceful lull of the forest finally taking their toll. You drifted off, your hand still resting on his chest, the distant, peaceful hum of the forest lullabies guiding you both into a deep and much-needed sleep.

Hours later, back at the Omatikaya camp, a frantic energy had replaced the usual nighttime quiet. The fire in the center of the camp burned low, but torches flickered as figures moved with purpose, their faces etched with worry. Jake Sully’s voice, usually a steady command, was tight with panic.

"I swear to Eywa, if he did something stupid again..." he muttered to himself, his eyes scanning the surrounding forest. "He was with you. Where is he?" he demanded of Lo'ak, who just shook his head helplessly.

Neytiri, her face a mask of concern, was already organizing a small search party. "Neteyam would not be so careless. Something has happened," she said, her voice sharp with fear.

Panic began to spread through the camp. Kiri was trying to calm Tuk, who was crying, sensing the fear of her parents. Lo'ak, despite his bravado, was clearly scared.

"Maybe they went to Mo'at?" Neytiri suggested, her eyes wide with a sudden thought. She hurried to the Tsahik's tent, but found her deep in a trance-like sleep, her face serene. Neytiri knew better than to wake her. She turned, her heart sinking, and shook her head at Jake, confirming their worst fears. They were on their own.

The search party moved through the forest, their torches casting dancing shadows on the ground. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the quiet tension of the hunt. Jake Sully led the way, his face a grim mask, while Neytiri moved with a hunter's grace, her senses on high alert. Behind them, your own parents followed, their fear a palpable presence in the night.

They climbed the Hallelujah Mountains, following a path toward a clearing that he’d never before recognized. As they neared the top, a quietness settled over the group. The frantic energy of the search was replaced by a wary anticipation.

Neytiri was the first to see it. Her eyes, sharper than anyone's, caught a glimpse of a familiar shape in the hollowed-out trunk of a massive tree. She held up a hand, and the group froze.

There you were, nestled in the indent of the tree, sound asleep. Neteyam was curled around you, his head resting on your shoulder, his arm draped protectively around your waist. His war paint was smudged, his armor askew, but he was safe. His tail was curled around both of you, a movement neytiri knew all too well from her laying with jake.

Jake's initial relief was quickly replaced by a surge of anger. He took a step forward, ready to yell, to scold, to make sure his son knew the fear he had just caused. But Neytiri's hand on his arm stopped him. She simply shook her head, a soft smile gracing her lips. She looked at you and Neteyam, seeing not two irresponsible children, but two souls finding peace in each other's arms in the midst of all this destruction and war.

Your parents moved forward, their faces a mix of relief and amusement. Your mother's eyes softened as she saw you, a gentle expression on her face that said she understood. Your father let out a soft, low chuckle. He looked at Neteyam, at his relaxed posture, the peaceful look on his face, and he simply gave Jake a knowing nod.

Jake looked from his wife to your parents, then back to his son. The anger in him slowly, reluctantly, dissipated, replaced by a quiet, overwhelming relief. He let out a long, slow breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. They were safe. They were together. That, for now, was all that mattered.

vivid-dreamscapes

Got this as a request!

Modern!Hockey player!Ekko x Fem!Reader

2,282 words

You watched early, freshly done nails digging into your palms as you bit your lip in anticipation. You waited as the sound of the puck being whacked echoed through the stadium, before hitting the net. Leaping to your feet, you let out a loud cheer, whooping as the boy who scored the goal skated by. He looked up, brown eyes searching the crowd for you before spotting you. He raised his hand and waved to you, but that whole area of people stared cheering, thinking he was waving to all of them.

”And Ekko scores another goal for the Firelights, Zaun University’s best team!” The announcers say, their voices coming clearly through the speaker despite all the cheering. “If he keeps up with this, he’s bound to get the winning point!”

You screamed your boyfriend’s name excitedly, holding up a poster with Ekko’s name painted in green on it. Jinx helped you paint it, so it was a little messy, but sweet. There were little doodles of the team’s mascot, a firelight, and little stars and stuff painted on as well. He gave a crooked smile at that, determination sparking up as he got back to a starting position.

Full disclosure? You knew nothing about Hockey about a year ago. You couldn’t give two shits about any sports to be honest. But Ekko, your boyfriend of two years at the time, was super into hockey. He had spent most of his high school years working hard to get into the college he wanted. But as soon as he got in, he did everything he could to be the best hockey player at Zaun University.

So you very quickly picked up the rules. You read stuff about hockey online, picked up a book or two from the library, and learned lots from just hearing your boyfriend talk about it.

And you made sure to come to each game.

At first, that was it. Just…coming to his games, to eagerly support him. And then you bought one of those big foam hand thingies. And then you wore a pin that said ‘Go Ekko!’ on your shirt to each game. And then you started wearing his old jersey’s. And then you brought the sign. And now, you cheered and watched every game of his vigorously, his biggest supporter and fan.

As he won the game, as you knew he would, you came down to the penalty box where his teammates had pulled him over to slap his back. You never understood why boys always showed their appreciation or congrats through hits and shoves, but whatever. As soon as he had finished laughing with them, he skated over to the other side of the penalty box, where you had snuck in. The coach allowed it, since you were his star player’s girlfriend and motivation.

“How did I do?” He asked with a crooked but sweet smirk. You lifted up his helmet and pressed your lips to his, stroking his jaw sweetly. After a second, you pulled back.

“Amazing. Per usual. Dunno why they aren’t paying you more.”

“They pay me plenty.”

“But they should pay you more. I need a new laptop.”

He laughed and roughed your hair with his thick glove, to which he received a playful glare. “Let me get changed and we’ll celebrate with some ice cream, ‘Kay?”

You smiled, smoothing your hair back down. “‘Kay.”

So you two made your way down the street, holding hands as you excitedly approached the only ice cream store near campus that was open this late. You got your usual, a (favorite ice cream), and he got his usual, blueberry cheesecake. You both walked down the warm autumn night, sharing licks of ice cream and small kisses. It was surprisingly warm for October, almost November. That had been his what…second game of his junior year of college? He was off to a good start, having already made a name for himself last year in hockey.

They called him The Boy who Beat Time. He had a reputation for scoring a winning goal last second, or having almost no time to be able to make a move, before being able to execute said move perfectly. He just seemed to defy time.

You took a lick of your ice cream, humming a random song as Ekko looked around at some of the lingering Halloween decorations. “Wanna go back to my dorm and watch shit?” Ekko asked after a moment, calloused fingertips tracing over the texture of your new, glittery nails.

You hummed a little in thought, biting off the ring of your cone as you looked up at the cloudy night sky. “Sure. What should we watch?” You asked, pointing to his cone.

Without any reaction, he just handed his cone to you so you could take a lick. “I dunno, maybe…an old timey movie?” He asked, taking his cone back as you shook your head, bringing up that you two had watched It’s a Wonderful Life last week in excitement for Christmas…despite it still being October.

“How about…something romantic?” You asked teasingly and Ekko groaned. He couldn’t stand romance shit. It was cheesy and fake, and it honestly cousins stand it. Besides, romance movies sometimes made him second guess if he was a good boyfriend. “Don’t worry, I was kidding.” You told him with a soft smile, placing a cold kiss to his cheek, lips and breath still chilled from the dessert.

“A comedy? Maybe a superhero movie?”

“Meh, don’t feel like watching something just to laugh. And an action movie of any kind is probably not best at this time of night…”

“Yeah, true…a mystery?”

“I could watch a mystery.” You said with a nod of agreement, and Ekko smiled.

“Enola Holmes again?” He asked and you nodded. Usually, you preferred gender of mystery were murder mystery’s. But when it was this late at night, your back up was typically Enola Holmes.

So the two of you set off to the dorms, hand in hand, laughing the whole way.

A couple months later, you were back in the stands, screaming excitedly as your boyfriend played through another intended hockey game. But throughout the game, the other team started…winning. The first time the opponents had the upper hand since Ekko had become well known for his hockey playing.

So you can imagine the sheer shattering of pride when the opposing team did end up winning.

The score stood out in big, orange numbers in the screen. Five to three. The firelights being the latter of the two. It seemed to taunt him.

He tried to push off all the news people and reporters as they clambered around him, tried to ignore the shouting from his coach and teammates.

“Ekko, can you tell us what went wrong?”

“Over here Ekko! How does it feel to lose your first game since taking off?”

“Ekko! Ekko, over here!”

He just tried to tune them out as you came rushing down from your seat in the stands, pushing some of the nosy reporters back.

“Hey, back off!” You ordered, shocking some of them. They weren’t used to being commanded by a college kid. “Can’t you see he’s beating himself up about it enough? Everyone had their bad games! It’s not a big fucking deal!”

Everyone looked at you with shock, but you stood your ground until Ekko had skated off the rink and into the locker room. He sat down on the bench in shock, staring at his feet. After a moment, he gritted his teeth and threw his helmet at the ground. Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit!

You came in after a moment, despite all of the shouting from his teammates at you. Whatever. It’s not like the showers were in this part of the locker room. And you were here for your boyfriend.

You sat down next to Ekko, placing a hand on his shoulder. “…hey,” You said softly, tilting your head with a small, comforting smile. “You tried your best. And it was just one game.”

“Yeah, just one game that’s all over the news.” He scoffed, forehead resting on one palm as he shook his head. “I mean dammit. This isn’t going to die down for a bit. Reporters are nosey, and as long as they have something juicy…” He trailed off with an annoyed look. He could picture the over dramatic headlines already; ‘Ekko, star player…not such a star anymore?’ Or maybe ‘The firelight’s biggest player skates off in tears after first loss in years’. Sure as hell sounded like the town newspaper headlines.

You sighed with him, staring at the floor together for a couple minutes. What to do now? Just…go back home? I’ve cream didn’t really seem in the cards for tonight, and you had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to focus on any movies.

Soon, the next hockey game came around, and this time, Ekko was determined not to lose. He had gotten a stern scolding from his coach, and an unfortunate amount of jeers and jests from his teammates. He was determined to make all of them eat their words. And he had you in the stands, per usual, helping cheer him on through it.

The game was intense. Ekko, per usual, was leaving the other team in the dust. You were smiling brightly, excited to smile after this game and tell him you were right; it was just one game.

But winning as well as he usually does wasn’t enough for Ekko. He needed to push, to exceed everyone’s expectations, to do more than win.

So he skated faster then he ever had before. Faster. Faster and faster, keeping the puck occupied with his hockey stick, and just as he went to lift it…

He felt his ankle twist weirdly. He felt, didn’t hear, but felt something crack as he began to hurtle forwards, white ice flooding his vision quickly.

He pulled himself up as he heard some minor screams, wiping off the stream of blood on his lip as it trailed down from his nose. He started to stand up, but a sharp pain exploded in his left ankle and he fell back to the ice with a shout.

The rest of the night kind of blurred past him. Announcers slowly becoming more confused over the speakers. His coach yelling. Teammates trying to help him up. The crowd panicking. A stretcher. Your voice, shouting for him at first but soothing him when in what he believed was an ambulance.

A sprained ankle. Nothing more nothing less. The doctors gave him a brace to wear for two weeks, then let him know he would have a temporary limp for about a month afterwards. But he’d miss almost every remaining hockey game.

You helped Ekko out of the car as you pulled up to the dorms, handing him his crutches. He sighed and slowly, still getting used to the medical tools, made his way down the front pathway. You helped him get undressed and re-dressed into pajamas, also getting DoorDash for him. He was just too tired to do anything right now, and the only reason he aisle fallen asleep hungry and in dirty clothes, was because you wouldn’t let him.

After eating, you laid with him on his bed, head resting on his shoulder. He sighed as he fiddled with his helmet, clearly pissed at himself for this whole shitty situation.

“Ekko, it wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was.”

“It was your coach who kept ridiculing you about being faster. It was your teammates who laughed at you. It’s not your fault they got in your head.”

“It is though, isn’t it?” He asked with a small scoff, tossing the helmet to the other end of his bed. “I let them get to me. I let myself care what everyone thought. And I was already beating myself up about it, so coach isn’t all to blame.”

You sighed and the two of you went quiet for a bit, just thinking. The good news was that it wasn’t like Ekko was losing some big scholarship or anything. His scholarship was for his ingenious tech designs, the ones he made in high school. Hockey hadn’t been his thing until his freshman year of college.

You put a hand on his, causing him to look over as you gave him an encouraging smile. “We don’t need to play the blame game anyways, what’s done is done. All we can do is focus on what comes now. And we’ll do it together.”

So over the next few weeks, you and Ekko focused mainly on your studies while Scar temporarily took ‘best player’ on the team. He had apologized to Ekko a multitude of times for taking his spotlight while hurt, but your boyfriend always laughed it off with a reassuring smile.

After two weeks of healing, the cast finally came off. Glad to be free of it and the crutches, Ekko went on short runs around campus every morning with you. Once it was strong enough, he was finally able to return to hockey for the last game of the season.

And so there you were, same as every game, cheering him on in the stands. You wore his jersey, held up your sign, and wore your giant foam hand that said ‘go babe’. But this time, everyone came to watch. Jinx, Vi, all of his friends from Zaun University.

So, as he played through the last game of the season, he crushed his opponents once more, and whenever interviewed about his comeback, he always said he cousins have done it without his little cheer squad in the bleachers. And especially without you.

!Not Proofread!

!Requests welcome and wanted!

rqvenn22

loved itt ❤️❤️

maxi-is-not-well

invincibledc

I oddly feel so anxious, and idk what’s wrong with me…..

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Written by Frank Ocean🪶