#I dunno why I screenshotted this if that's a word but I did so so here you go 😂😂

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Spilled Ink

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike x f!reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: Uhhh Marcus Pike as the world's softest tattoo artist that's it that's the fic.

Warnings: Lots of tattoo talk, obviously, which includes needles, tattoo guns, pain, mention of bleeding, etc.; reader is explicitly coded as neurodivergent because I said so; yearning; lots of kissing; Marcus Pike being a goddamn menace and he fucking knows it

A/N: @kedsandtubesocks made a post about Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike (original post HERE) and then I wrote 7.5k words in 12 hours, as one does. All credit for the idea goes to the amazing Erika who entrusted me with this idea and THANK GOD SHE DID because I don't think I could have gotten it out of my stupid brain otherwise. Header pics credit go to Erin @perotovar, who made these with Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike in mind and I'm just WOOFWOOFBARKBARKBARKBARKHOWL. Thanks also to @littlebirdsbookshelf who suffers through HOURS of me sending screenshots every time I write anything. Love you <3

Additional Note on Canon: I am pretending that we never got to see Marcus Pike in short sleeves in the show despite it happening twice. He has full sleeves on both his arms in this fic that he covered up during his time working at the FBI. Because sleeves are hot and I said so.

Masterlist

It’s not unusual, these days, to wander down the sidewalk staring at your phone. Some people are texting. Some people are reading the news–because hey, this is D.C. Others, like you on this brisk morning, are watching the little blue dot on a tiny representation of the city streets, trying to find the address you had typed into the search bar.

A text box pops up, informing you of your arrival, and you finally look up.

No wonder it took you so long to find the place–it’s hardly what you expected at all. You always picture tacky neon signs, bars on the windows, undesirables milling about on the street, smoking cigarettes.

Okay, so you admittedly don’t actually know much about tattoos.

All you know is that you want one–a fact you confessed to a friend over lunch the other week: a conversation that led you here.

“Okay, so get one,” she had said bluntly.

“It’s not all that simple,” you had protested. 

“Why?”

“It’s just… it seems like a lot. Mentally. Physically. I’m not sure I have what it takes.”

“They don’t hurt that bad,” your friend had insisted.

“I’m not just talking about that, I’m talking about… y’know, just everything. The noise. New people. Strangers touching me. It just doesn’t seem like something I’ll be able to do.”

“Oh. Ohhh. Because of the… yep. Actually I might have something for you,” she said, taking out her phone and scrolling through that app that drives you crazy–it’s overstimulation in a convenient package–full of noise, chaos, and flashing lights. 

She must have seen you pull a face, because she held out her hand placatingly. 

“Just finding the name of the place, hang on. It’s a shop right here in DC that went ‘viral’ for this video of a guy with autism who wanted a tattoo to commemorate his dad, but he was only comfortable lying on the floor–so the tattoo artist just… got on the floor with him! It was really cute, and anyway I guess he caters to all sorts of people, so… I dunno. Check it out.”

And here you are. Checking it out.

The words “Government-Issued Ink” are spelled out on large windows, and the punny name–apt for its location not far from the Capitol–makes you snort. 

The shop is bright, warm, and inviting–tearing down your outdated preconceptions that tattoo places must always be run-down, dark, and dingy. It’s also empty this early in the morning, save for a lone figure in the back, seated at a well-worn desk, his head pitched forward over his work.

He’s so enveloped in whatever he’s sketching that he must not have heard the light ringing of the bell as you had entered. You watch him for a few moments–taking in the graceful movements of his hand and the way his fingers grasp the pen. He’s dressed in a plain blue button-down dress shirt, which also doesn’t fit your assumed archetype of ‘Tattoo Artist.’ You can’t see his face; his head is leaning forward too much and a few short locks of dark brown hair obscure your view.

Suddenly wondering if you’re being incredibly rude, staring at someone without announcing your presence, you open your mouth to introduce yourself.

“Um.”

While not exactly eloquent, it serves its purpose. The man startles and looks up in surprise.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, jumping to his feet and letting the pen clatter carelessly to the desk. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s okay,” you shake your head rapidly. “I was, um…” You blink a few times, your nerves getting the better of you as the man comes around his desk to approach the front of the store.

“Interested in a walk-in consultation?” he offers, holding out his hands in a gesture that could either be an open invitation or a shrug.

“I don’t know,” you confess quietly. “I was thinking about getting, uh, a tattoo, and I was told this shop was… good. With tattoos. And other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” he chuckles, smiling warmly. 

“You know… with people who… might not be good at getting tattoos.”

“What makes you think you aren’t ‘good at getting tattoos?’”

“A hunch,” you shrug, expelling a little huff of laughter through your nose. “I was told to ask for a Marcus Pike?”

The man’s smile widens. “You’re looking at him.”

Oh. You aren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. Marcus Pike is well-dressed and clean-cut, almost startlingly so. You scan up and down, looking for any sign that this man could possibly be a tattoo artist, but the only evidence you can find is a small black target inked between his thumb and forefinger on his right hand. Don’t… tattoo artists usually have more ink? Of course, with him almost completely covered from head to toe, you obviously can’t create a full picture of Marcus’s skin, but the fact that he wouldn’t look out of place in one of the nearby government buildings still takes you by surprise.

You realize you haven’t said anything in response, but Marcus doesn’t seem to be bothered by your deer-in-headlights stare. Instead, he grins again and steps sideways, extending his arm in a silent invitation to come deeper into the shop.

“Come on in. If you’d like, go ahead and sit wherever you want, and we can talk about it. No pressure,” he promises. “I’m not here to push ink on you like a used car salesman; I’m here to collaborate with you. Figure out what you really want. And, if what you want ends up being ‘nothing,’ I totally support that, too.”

There’s something innate and intrinsic about Marcus Pike that sets you completely at-ease. You cast your eyes around, taking in the eclectic seating in the shop–all mismatched, all different colors, styles, and shapes, but all looking incredibly comfortable and inviting. You settle on a giant turquoise beanbag that seems to swallow you whole when you sink down into it, and Marcus grins and sits down in the bright yellow saucer chair beside it. 

“So at the very least, you’re thinking about a tattoo,” Marcus leads. “Can you tell me about that?”

You nod, feeling encouraged by his openness. “Yeah, so… my mom, she passed away a couple of years ago, and it just seemed like I should… memorialize her in some way. Like, in a way that leaves its mark on me like she left a mark on me, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of getting some kind of permanent art that commemorates her.”

“That’s a great idea,” Marcus says softly. “Lots of people choose to do that after losing a loved one.”

“Yeah, the only problem is that I’m not good with um… noise, or people touching me, or… pain, really,” you confess. “I’m like, the worst candidate for getting a tattoo that exists.”

Marcus chuckles softly and shakes his head. “Personally, I don’t believe that. I think anyone can get a tattoo done if they want it, provided they get it done in a way that feels safe and comfortable.”

“My friend, she uh, recommended your shop because apparently you’ve done some stuff for people with autism and it went viral on TikTok…” you ramble, “and I thought maybe that meant you’d be a good fit for… for me.”

Understanding flickers in Marcus’s expression, and he nods, a small smile spreading across his face. “I hope so,” he says with quiet earnesty. 

A beat passes–just a few seconds of silence–but something small and soft and warm settles down between the two of you, and the comforting feeling sinks down into the pit of your stomach and stays there, latent and waiting.

“So, let’s talk design,” Marcus announces. “Do you have anything in mind? Any images or ideas, however vague? I can do anything from replicating designs to building something completely from scratch for you.”

“I like the idea of it being a unique piece,” you tell him.

“I prefer original designs too,” he says. “Not to sound incredibly cheesy, but there’s no one like you, you know? In–In the general sense, of course.” He chuckles sheepishly, looking down at his hands. “I like knowing each person that comes in here leaves with something unique. Something all their own—I’m rambling,” he says quickly, the tips of his ears turning slightly pink. “One thing about me is that I talk too much. Anyway–did you have any ideas you can share with me about what you’d like?”

“I don’t have a good image in my mind,” you confess anxiously. After all, how can he build a design based on the swirling, disjointed images in your brain? “I think I want it to be colorful, like she was. And… I keep getting thoughts about, I dunno, the cyclical nature of life, something corny like that.”

Marcus laughs. “Sometimes the corny stuff is what sticks with us. So, colorful and commenting on the cyclical nature of life,” he lists off on his fingers, still grinning. “Anything else?”

“I’ve looked through your galleries online,” you tell him. “You have a few that look like watercolor paintings, and I really love how they look.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I’m gonna throw out an idea—Feel free to tell me ‘no,’ because I’m just brainstorming here, but I keep thinking about a tree of life. The leaves could easily be done in watercolor and could be any combination of colors you want.” His right hand twitches–as if reaching for a phantom pen–as he speaks, and his gaze seems to be fixed on a spot on the wall, his eyes glimmering with enthusiasm as he starts to speak faster.

“You could have the leaves and the roots connecting on the sides, making a circle, maybe even having her birth date and death date embedded in the roots…” He blinks rapidly a few times, as if dispelling the image from his head. “Anyway. That’s a possibility.”

“I think that’s amazing,” you say softly, watching Marcus with something like amazement in your expression. “Actually… I really like that idea. It sounds… perfect.”

“Oh,” he intones softly, looking at you in surprise as a bright, toothy smile breaks across his face. “Oh. Well then, let’s do it, huh? One final question: where do you envision getting it?”

“I was thinking on my shoulder. Here,” you indicate, pressing your hand to the skin of your upper arm. “That way it’s visible when I want it to be, but easily hidden if for some reason it needs to be.”

“That’s perfect,” Marcus says. “Plus, the circular design will go really well there. Okay. Great. Um, some things to know about the process. We’ll exchange emails, and you can contact me at any time with any questions, concerns, ideas, changes, anything. In the meantime, I’ll get started on a design for you, and I’ll share initial sketches that you can give feedback on before I move to the final stages of the design. It’ll take a couple of weeks, maximum, depending on any changes you ask for. My only request is that you’re always honest with your feedback–don’t tell me you like something when you don’t. I promise, it won’t hurt my feelings.” He grins widely. “After that, you book an appointment on a day that works best for you. I almost always book the whole day for the appointment to factor in time for copious breaks and making sure you feel comfortable. Does that work for you?”

You nod eagerly.

“Last question,” Marcus says. “Is it okay if I get a close-up picture of your upper arm? That way I can make sure it fits the curvature of your arm, it’s the right size, stuff like that.”

“Mhmm,” you nod again, pressing your lips together and trying not to look nervous. Thank god you wore a sleeveless top under your sweater.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he insists.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you say quickly, removing just the one arm from your outer layer and pulling it aside. 

You watch as Marcus grabs a little ‘point-and-shoot’ digital camera from his desk and comes back to your side.

“This is just used for design purposes,” he promises. “I delete them after the design is done.”

“I trust you.”

His resulting expression could light an entire room. “Thank you,” he answers quietly. “Okay. Super close-up, just your arm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you confirm, and you hear the camera click several times.

“Actually,” Marcus says, still staring thoughtfully at your bare shoulder. “Would it be okay if I made a couple of little marks–washable marker, of course–to make sure the dimensions are how you want them?”

Oh. You normally don’t like it when people touch you. You knew it was going to happen eventually, obviously, because how else was he going to get the design onto your skin? But it was something you had planned on working yourself up to, not something you had to do today. On the other hand, something about Marcus’s entire bearing makes you inexplicably ache to be touched by him. 

“‘No’ is an acceptable response,” he interrupts your dithering with a quiet reassurance.

And actually, that works to seal the deal for you, and your decision is made in an instant. 

“Yes. You can. That’s fine.” And, to your surprise, you mean it.

Marcus seems just as surprised at your answer–his eyebrows shoot upward almost comically at your response.

“Okay,” he says softly. “That’s perfect. Hang on.” He jumps up again to retrieve a black marker–from what was clearly a children’s set of washable markers. He meets your eyes, and again you take in that sincere, earnest, patient look that endeared you to this man from the moment you entered the little shop.

“Is it okay if I touch your arm?” he asks quietly, still watching you carefully as you nod.

“Tell me if that changes,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze to your shoulder again. His touch, when you feel it, is just as warm as you’d imagined. He’s gentle, cautious, and when he speaks again, his voice remains at that same, soft volume and tone. “I’m envisioning being from about here–” he makes a little black dot, “–to here. What do you think?” 

You nod. It’s the perfect size–large enough to cover your shoulder but stopping just above the point where the sleeve of a regular t-shirt would hit.

“That’s perfect.”

“Okay, so that’s–” he tsks softly, measuring the distance with his finger, “–about four inches, so that same distance across, and–” he makes two more marks on either side of your shoulder. “About like that. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you answer, smiling with enthusiasm. 

“Great! Let me just…” Marcus draws a few short lines denoting the proposed boundary of your design, and you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you at the cool tip of the marker on your skin. 

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “One more picture?”

At your nod, the camera clicks one last time. 

“Like I said, that’ll wash off with soap, no problem,” he promises with a smile. “Thanks for that, makes it easier to scale.” He grabs two business cards off his desk and hands them to you. “Can you write your email on this one for me? And you can keep the other one. Like I said, anything you need, just email me. And uh, barring that, you’ll be hearing from me in a week or so with a rough sketch. Okay?”

You scribble down your email and hand the card back to Marcus before pulling your sweater back over your bare arm. You slip the other card into your purse and rise to your feet. “Thanks,” you say, nodding to him.

“Hey, no–thank you,” Marcus returns. “Thanks for entrusting me with this. I mean it.”

Surprising yourself, you extend your hand toward him, and, when he takes it, you feel enveloped with warmth again.

“Thanks,” repeat, a little bit more breathlessly this time, before turning and hurrying out of the shop before you can embarrass yourself any further.

Your shoulder still tingles from his touch hours later.

Rather than it being a week before you hear from him, you receive an email from Marcus Pike just three days later.

Subject: Initial Sketch

Hello,

Please see attached. It’s just pencil for now, but I made a note of the general blocks of color I was thinking for the leaves. You’ll see what I mean when you open the file. Sorry, I know it’s a pretty rough sketch, I was just excited to get this to you. I look forward to your feedback!

Best regards,

Marcus :) 

Eagerly, you open the attachment. First of all, there’s nothing “rough” about the sketch other than the fact that it’s just penciled in. The details are already so intricate, and you find yourself smiling in amazement as you take in the design.

It’s beautiful.

Brackets, each labeled with a different color in Marcus’s neat, tidy handwriting, surround the top of the tree. Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Violet. 

At the bottom of the image is another handwritten note: *All the colors will blend together and the result should look like a rainbow.

Tears spring, unbidden, to your eyes, as you feverishly type out your response.

Subject: Re: Initial Sketch

Marcus,

I really don’t know what to say other than it’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect. Made me tear up. Look forward to seeing it in color.

Thanks again!

Not even five minutes go by before your phone vibrates with another email.

Subject: Re: Re: Initial Sketch

I’m sorry if I made you cry! Obviously wasn’t my intention but I’m glad the design evokes emotion :) I’ll move forward with the design as-is and you should hear from me soon with a full-color image.

Marcus :) 

You can’t wait. The next week and a half stretches out excruciatingly, but finally, on a Wednesday evening, you receive another email. 

Subject: Final Design

Hey there!

Hope you’ve been doing well. Thought you might like to see the final design of your tattoo ;) See attached and let me know if anything needs to be changed. Be critical! Don’t hold anything back! Once we agree on a final piece, we’ll get you on the calendar.

Best regards,

Marcus :) 

Your mind skims over the fact that Marcus used a winking-face emoji in your email, because you honestly aren’t equipped to process that right now, and open the attachment instead. This time, you start crying in earnest. It’s perfect. The colors are so vibrant, and they make the tree look as though it’s in a constant state of movement. Your mom’s birth and death dates are entwined seamlessly into the roots themselves, in a way that makes them not readily apparent at first glance, but seeming to just appear out of nowhere upon further inspection. 

Subject: Re: Final Design

Marcus,

If I had any critical feedback, I would share it, I promise. But I have nothing. This is everything I’d imagined and more, and it means the world to me.

Thank you so much.

After a few more messages back and forth, you settle on a date one month out. 

You can’t wait.

As excited as you’ve been for the past month, when you step foot back into Marcus’s little tattoo parlor, the air of finality makes your body thrum with anxiety.

You’re really doing this.

Marcus is at the back of the shop, busying himself with setting up his workspace when you enter. Today, he’s wearing a dark green henley that looks just as soft as he is, and seems to complement his features even more. As soon as he hears the chimes, his head snaps up, and he grins widely. 

“Hey!” he calls out excitedly. “Just getting everything ready. Do you want something to drink before we get started? I’ve got water, juice, soda…” he trails off, waving his hand in the direction of a mini-fridge in the corner. 

“I’m okay for now.”

“Sounds good, but when we take a break, you should have some juice or something else with a bit of sugar in it, okay?” You nod, and he continues. “Okay! Where do you want to sit?”

“Don’t I have to sit in the chair over there?” you ask, gesturing to the traditional chair and bench near Marcus’s work table. 

“Not at all,” he protests. “The table is mobile, I bring it to wherever you feel comfortable.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly. “I’ll go ahead and sit in the chair, though.” Of all the options, it looks like the easiest–you aren’t entirely sure how Marcus would be able to comfortably tattoo you whilst sitting on a bean bag chair. 

“Your choice,” he insists, spreading his hands out in an open and unguarded stance.

You settle in the chair and he sits down on a rolling stool beside you. 

“Okay, so I’ve got a stencil of your design here,” Marcus says, holding up a paper with an outline of the tree for you to see. “It’ll transfer onto your skin exactly how you want it to go, and I’ll just trace it. Make sense?”

“Yep,” you nod.

“Before I do that, though, I have to make sure nothing interferes with the design, including tiny little hairs.” He holds up a pink safety razor. “Are you comfortable with me doing this for you?”

At your tentative nod of consent, Marcus leans forward and gently swipes the razor up and down your shoulder until he’s satisfied. His eyes dart between your skin and your face the entire time–making sure you’re still with him. After he’s done, he talks you through the stencil–confirming its location, gently applying it to your shoulder, and then holding up a mirror for you to approve. 

“It’s great,” you whisper excitedly.

Marcus returns your smile and begins to absentmindedly roll up his sleeves in preparation to start working–-and the question about tattoos that you’d asked yourself upon first seeing the man is suddenly and unexpectedly answered.

You can’t help the soft sound of surprise that escapes from you when you catch the colorful patchwork of designs on both of his forearms, disappearing under the pushed-up henley and suggesting that they go all the way up. 

Marcus catches you staring and grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I didn’t know,” you say softly. “You keep them covered up.”

“Force of habit,” Marcus shrugs. “I had a desk job for a long time.”

“Doing what?” you ask, curiously. You can’t see the man doing anything but this.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” he jokes, winking in your direction. 

Ignoring how the wink makes your heart stutter in your chest, you bark out a laugh at his answer. “What? Were you like a secret agent or something?” you tease.

“Special Agent,” he corrects, grinning. 

“Get out,” you deadpan. “I can’t imagine you as a Fed.”

Marcus shrugs, giving you another one of his boyish, crooked smiles. “Would’ve been fifteen years this year had I not finally seen the writing on the wall and run for the hills a couple of years ago.”

“What made you leave?” 

He laughs softly, shaking his head. “That’s a long story. How sensitive are you to noise?” he asks, abruptly changing the subject.

“Uh, I dunno. Kind of depends on the day and the situation,” you shrug.

“Fair. Well, I usually let newcomers listen to what the gun actually sounds like, so there are no surprises. If it’s too loud, I do have noise canceling headphones.”

And miss out on hearing Marcus’s soft-spoken reassurances? No matter how loud the tattoo gun is, you’d rather endure it just to be able to hear him talk. 

Marcus turns the instrument on, and the room is filled with a mild buzzing sound. On your worst days, admittedly, it would probably grate upon your nerves, but you’re feeling relaxed, comfortable, and excited about your new tattoo.

“It’s not bad,” you tell him truthfully. 

“Perfect,” he grins. “Are you all set to get started?”

Heart rate increasing with pleasant anticipation, you nod giddily. 

“I’m obviously gonna be touching your arm a lot,” Marcus says, “so let me know if you need a break from that, the noise, the needle, anything.” Seeing your solemn nod, he continues. “I’m gonna do a little dot right here to let you see how it feels, okay?” He gently touches his index finger to your skin to indicate where. 

“Okay.”

The gun turns on again, and Marcus presses it lightly against your skin for just a second before pulling back.

“...That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I thought it would hurt more,” you confess.

Marcus laughs. “Well, the same feeling over and over again in a small area can start to be pretty uncomfortable. I’ll check in regularly to make sure you’re still doing fine. Good?”

You smile widely. “I’m really excited.”

His smile softens, his gaze becoming warmer and more tender. “I’m glad.”

His other hand gently cradles your arm as Marcus leans in, a look of intense concentration settling over his features as he begins the design. Engrossed in his work, you take the time to study his forearms. They’re a hodgepodge of designs, clearly done at different times and by different artists, but you can see themes throughout. He likes classic styles, you can tell, and in between some of the more traditional works you can see beautiful references to an assortment of famous paintings. A Dali melting clock here. A sunflower clearly inspired by Van Gogh there. On his opposite bicep, you can just barely make out the side of one design that looks like it might be of a Greek statue. Tilting your head, you realize it’s Nike alighting on the bow of a warship, and you inhale sharply. That’s one of your favorite sculptures.

“Still okay?” Marcus asks, glancing up at you with concern in his eyes.

“Sorry.” You shake your head quickly. 

“Just checking,” he says softly. “Try to be just a little more still, okay?”

“Sorry,” you repeat, laughing sheepishly. 

“Don’t be, you’re doing great.”

You try to fight the way your entire body seems to grow warm at Marcus’s praise, but you can’t stop the way the feeling stampedes through you. You’re being ridiculous, you chastise yourself. He’s doing his job, and you’re getting all moony-eyed.

In order to distract yourself, you continue playing ‘Spot the Famous Artwork’ on Marcus’s sleeves–although, as distractions go, it’s not your best work. You can’t help but focus in on the way his forearm cords with muscle as he holds the tattoo gun, controlling each movement so delicately and precisely, creating a beautiful, intricate design on your shoulder.

After finding a bit of yellow patchwork that's clearly a reference to Gustav Klimt's The Kiss near his right elbow, you break your silence.

“You like art, huh?”

It seems like a stupid thing to say to a fucking tattoo artist of all people, and you immediately kick yourself internally for saying something so obvious. 

Marcus glances up, and, seeing how your eyes are focused on his own ink, smiles. “Always have,” he murmurs, returning his gaze to your shoulder. “Some of those are years-old.”

“Is that how you got into being a tattoo artist?” you ask.

“Sort of,” he answers, brow pinched in concentration as he continues working. “I uh, apprenticed for a shop in college to pay the bills before going to Quantico for training.”

“You’re really talented,” you tell him. “I was surprised to find out you haven’t been doing this your whole life.”

Marcus hums his appreciation as he carefully fills in a root. 

“Can I ask what made you join the FBI instead of opening your own place after college?”

He huffs a little laugh through his nose. “Parents would have killed me, going to college and then doing nothing with it.”

“Running a small business isn’t exactly doing nothing,” you point out.

“Well, public opinion on tattoos wasn’t what it is now,” Marcus says. “They were scandalized by my apprenticeship, but it paid the bills, so they couldn’t complain too loudly.”

“Was it them who wanted you to join the FBI?”

“Mm, not so much,” he murmurs. “It was more like ‘whatever you want to do, so long as you can make a lucrative career out of it.’ Being an artist wasn’t one of those things, so in lieu of becoming one myself, I decided I wanted to protect them instead.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Protect them how?”

Marcus grins up at you and waggles his eyebrows playfully. “Art crimes,” he answers. “Being an art detective was kind of in the limelight in the early ‘nineties after the famous Gardner Museum theft, and I got swept up in the craze.”

“So you spent the last fifteen-ish years recovering stolen art,” you fill in for him.

“Stolen, forged, looted, illegally traded or smuggled…” Marcus offers, not breaking his concentration again. He wasn’t wrong–the repeated drag of the needle across what felt like the same square centimeter of your skin was starting to wear on you. 

“Uh-huh,” you say, forcing the discomfort out of your tone.

Noticing the tightness in your voice immediately, Marcus’s movements stop. “Feeling okay?”

You shrug.

The gun switches off.

“You gotta be honest about how you’re feeling,” he reminds you. “I might be able to create designs based off of customers’ vague descriptions, but that doesn’t make me a mind-reader.”

“It’s a little uncomfortable, but I can endure it,” you insist.

“There’s no need to endure something that’s painful,” Marcus argues with an amused smile. “Even if it involves choosing to repeatedly jamming a needle into your skin.”

You can’t help but laugh, and your heart swells when he joins you.

“C’mere,” he says. “Let me show you something.”

You let him lead you to the other side of the shop, where he stops in front of a large storage cabinet that you'd assumed held various supplies. When he opens it, however, you find that isn’t the case at all.

No, the entire cabinet is filled to the brim with a collection of stuffed animals just as eclectic and varied as the furniture. There's also a couple of shoeboxes filled with every manner of fidget toy you could ever imagine. 

"You can grab one, if you want. I know it might feel kind of goofy, but I promise they help with the pain."

"Okay," you breathe. Your gaze lingers first on the IKEA shark, then on a very soft-looking cactus with an adorable grumpy expression, but when your gaze lands on the largest and arguably oddest toy in the collection, your hands can't help but move toward it. 

"The big guy, huh?" Marcus laughs, taking the giant squid off of the shelf and placing it in your arms. You have to laugh at how large and ungainly it is; its massive black eyes stare vacantly back at you, but the effect is dopey, rather than menacing. 

"Where do you get all of these?" you ask in amazement. 

"Most of them are gifts from past clients, including that one," Marcus says, indicating the squid. "But I think he originally came from the Smithsonian. I was told his name is 'Cthulhu, Lord of the Deep.'"

"Thank you," you say in a small, appreciative voice.

"'S'fine," Marcus shrugs. "Feel up to continuing?"

You nod, looking down at your partially-inked shoulder. "Guess you didn't get very far before I had to stop," you remark, somewhat self-deprecatingly. 

"It's not a race," your artist says earnestly. "We've got the whole day, and we go at your pace. You're paying me, after all." Another wink in your direction.

"Yeah," you nod, confidence growing again. "Yeah, okay." You plop down in your seat, with Cthulhu in your lap, and Marcus takes his place beside you. 

“Gonna turn this back on again,” he announces as the now-familiar buzz fills the room, “and I’m gonna touch your arm–” his fingers wrap warmly and gently around your skin, “–annnd here we go.” 

The needle scratches insistently against your skin, but it isn’t so bad–not really, not with the hilarious giant squid on your lap and Marcus’s gentle, soothing voice in your ear. He talks while he works, sometimes asking you questions about your own life–to which he listens intently and always seems to have follow-up questions–and sometimes telling you stories of his own. You discuss art, obviously, but also music, books, movies, and baseball of all things.

You find yourself wondering if he has this type of easy rapport with everyone who comes in, but you assume he must. He might be the most disarming person you’ve ever met, and it’s hardly a stretch to believe he’s like this with everyone. Still, there’s an ugly, jealous part of you that wishes the connection between you was unique, special. That he’s only this warm with you. 

Marcus was right–squeezing the stuffed toy on your lap is a perfect distraction from the discomfort of the needle, and before long, the sensation fades into the background. As the time drags on, though, the persistent drone of the tattoo gun causes an ache to creep in and settle between your eyes. You take in a deep breath through your nose, count to three, and exhale slowly through your mouth.

Marcus glances up, watching you for a split-second before cutting power to the gun and stretching his back with a satisfied sigh. 

“Break time,” he announces. “Hand’s getting a bit sore.” He shoots you a knowing glance and another one of those crooked smiles. “And you should probably have a little something to drink, maybe a snack.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you say gratefully as he walks over to the little fridge.

“Apple juice?” he asks, holding up a little juice box that looks slightly comical in his large hands. When you nod enthusiastically, he hands it to you.

His fingers brush yours.

If it were anyone else, you’d recoil, but it’s him. It might just be the forced proximity, but…

You’re developing quite the crush on Marcus Pike.

Shoving the thought aside for the moment, you stab the straw into the little hole and take a long sip. Marcus settles down beside you with his own choice–a little can of vegetable juice–and holds it up in a silent ‘cheers.’

Feeling emboldened, you ask the question that’s been burning in your mind since you started.

“So what made you leave the whole ‘helping other artists’ thing behind and start a tattoo business instead?”

Marcus presses his lips together, and for a moment, you fear you’ve crossed a boundary. Just before you’re about to apologize profusely, though, he speaks.

“Have you ever just… woken up one morning, and realized that everything you were working toward, everything you thought you wanted in life… was a lie?”

“I… I don’t know,” you confess quietly, surprised at the emotion behind his words.

“Happened to me,” he laughs softly. “I had moved to DC for what I thought was my dream job, with who I thought was–” he shakes his head, as though dispelling an unpleasant thought. “I had spent my entire life checking boxes: College degree? Check. Well-paying job? Check. House? Check. Check, check check. I spent so much time trying to get ahead, like life was some kind of game to be won. If I said all the right things, did all the right things, if I did everything right… I’d have the life I wanted.”

“What was the life you wanted?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“It was bullshit, is what it was. Saw one too many rom-coms as a kid, I suppose. I thought I was after the picket fence, the dog, the wife and two-point-five kids, that sort of thing. And one morning I woke up, realized that… that relentless pursuit of something I couldn’t even hold–it was all bullshit.”

“So you just… quit?”

“I quit. I wanted to create things again. I wanted to feel inspired. After a bit of uh… frantic soul-searching before I ran out of money entirely, I sold my stupid, too-big condo that I hated and bought this shop instead.”

“Did it work?”

“Well, I’m not bankrupt yet,” Marcus says dryly.

“No, I mean… did you feel inspired again?”

“I did. I do. So very much so,” he says, his voice soft and gentle. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and that comfortable warmth that had settled in between you the first time you had met him… grows. Mutates. Until the warm, tingling feeling feels a lot more like electricity.

An unspoken moment seems to pass through you, but then Marcus clears his throat roughly, setting the empty can aside and standing again, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Wanna keep going?”

Breathlessly, you nod. 

In no time at all, you’re settled back in the chair with one of Marcus’s warm, strong, large hands cradling your arm as the other gently wields the tattoo gun. As he starts to fill in and blend the colors, the pain starts to increase, and you worry one of the fuzzy tentacles back and forth in your hand as you grit your teeth.

“I know, I know,” Marcus soothes quietly. “The color’s the worst part, but you’re being so good for me.”

It helps you to watch him work, so you do. He’s blending in the colors now, and you watch with interest as it starts to take shape. It’s so mesmerizing that you hardly even notice the buzz of the gun or the light sting of the needle anymore.

“And you said you ‘weren’t good at tattoos,’” he teases gently, noticing your obvious interest. 

“Did I say that?” you laugh, teasing back.

“I believe your words were, ‘I’m like the worst candidate for getting a tattoo that exists.’” he reminds you. “And look at you now, huh?”

You duck your head at his praise, unable to withstand the intensity and honesty in his gaze.

“Doing okay after all, I guess,” you say with a sheepish smile.

“You’re doing amazing,” Marcus corrects, smiling warmly. “The type of client any artist dreams of.”

You don’t know how to respond to the things this man says to you. Stunned and at a loss for words, you stare awkwardly at your hand where it still wraps around Cthulhu, Lord of the Deep.

“I’m sorry.” The words are soft, concerned. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just meant that your enthusiasm and your curiosity is the stuff that makes me want to be an artist in the first place.”

“Are you saying I inspire you?” you try to tease, but it falls flat.

Just audibly, over the hum of the tattoo gun, you hear his whispered response. 

“Yes.” 

As Marcus wipes away the last of the stray ink on the purple bit of tree, the tattoo gun suddenly switches off. The silence is almost shocking, and you blink rapidly in confusion.

“Break time?” you ask.

Marcus chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “It’s all done.”

“It is?” you ask, although you can see the answer for yourself in the large mirrored wall to your right. 

“How’s it feel?” he asks.

“My arm kind of aches,” you confess, “but oh my God, Marcus… it’s beautiful.”

It’s his turn to preen under your praise, the tips of his ears blushing pink as he grins back at you.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says softly. “Here, let me give you a little something for the pain.” 

He squeezes a glob of light-green cooling gel and coats the angry skin with the barest of touches. “Still okay?” he asks, glancing up at you for confirmation.

After the harshness of the needle, the soft press of his fingers is more soothing than ever, and you have to resist the urge to sigh and melt into his touch. 

“Yes,” you whisper.

“You’re going to want to keep this covered for a couple of hours, up to overnight,” Marcus says as he carefully applies a dressing to your shoulder–still softly, but more businesslike than before as he walks you through all of the instructions for care. “Once you take this off tomorrow, you’ll probably see some fluid leaking from it–that’s totally normal. It’s blood, plasma, and extra ink, and it should stop after a few days before it starts to scab over.

 “You’ll want to keep it from drying out; I’d recommend scent-free, dye-free lotion if you don’t already have some,” he continues. “Wash it twice a day and put lotion on after. When it starts to scab, I can’t stress this enough: don’t pick the scabs.” He gives you a serious look. “Repeat that back to me.”

“Don’t pick the scabs.”

“If you do, you could cause it to scar, or even pull out the ink. One more time for me,” he prompts, and you get the feeling that this is always the sticking point in his speech.

“Don’t pick the scabs,” you repeat.

“It’ll take three to four months for the lower layers of skin to completely heal,” Marcus tells you. “During that time, keep it out of the sun, keep it hydrated, and you’re in the clear.”

“And don’t pick the scabs,” you say teasingly. 

Marcus winks at you. “Exactly. Any other questions for me?”

“No, just… thank you. It’s amazing,” you tell him. “You did such an incredible job.”

“Hard not to, when I have such a beautiful canvas.”

Your eyes dart up, expecting to see a teasing glint in his eyes, but all you can see is heartfelt sincerity. You swallow thickly, and he tracks the movement, his eyes dropping down, then back up to meet your eyes. Is it… not just you? Does he feel it, too? Realization slams through you and threatens to overload all of your systems. Marcus’s lips are parted slightly, and the look in his eyes… it’s desire.

“Marcus…”

“Wait,” he says urgently. “Hang on. Come… come over here for a minute, let me–” he dashes awkwardly over to the till on the counter and gives you your total. Frowning in confusion–he wants to do this now? Interrupting that electric moment that had passed between you?–you dutifully swipe your card and numbly take the receipt.

“Now you’re no longer my client,” Marcus explains softly. “I–sorry–I was about to throw caution to the wind and kiss you, and I didn’t… I didn’t want to be unethical, I–”

“Yes,” you say simply, giving your response to his un-asked question.

It’s all he needs to stride forward, gently take your face in his warm palms, and, seeing no hesitation in your eyes even as he searches your face desperately—presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is as soft and as tender as the man himself, which hardly surprises you. Your eyes slip closed as his lips move against you with aching caution. He’s careful in all things, including this–taking your cues, giving you the lead, letting you feel everything he’s giving you.

All too quickly, he pulls back–but his eyes only sweep your face again, a growing smile on his lips as he sees nothing but want reflected back at him. 

When he lowers his lips to yours again, he’s less gentle. One large hand leaves your face too hook around your waist, pulling you closer, closer–and when the proximity causes you to gasp softly, Marcus is ready. His tongue gently slips between your parted lips and you practically melt into him. When your knees buckle, his strong arms are what keep you standing upright, and still–

He can’t seem to stop kissing you. 

You break before he does–pulling back to suck in a few shaky, heaving breaths, and he smiles through his own labored breathing.

“I wanted–I–” he begins, before hastily pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth as if he can’t help but do so. 

“I’ve thought of you,” he tries again. “I thought of you like this for the last month,” the confession finally spills out. “I wanted to–wanted to kiss you so badly all day, but I couldn’t. Couldn’t let myself.” He kisses you again. “But now,” he promises, whispering the words against your mouth. “Now I’m gonna get my fill.”

To punctuate his statement with one of your own, you slant your head and deepen the kiss, wrapping one hand around Marcus’s neck and pulling him closer still. He makes a soft noise in his throat, and the grip on your waist tightens. You lose yourself completely to the feel of his tongue sliding slowly against yours, until he suddenly pulls back.

“I’m doing this all wrong,” he whispers–although he’s still smiling. “I wanted to ask you out to dinner, first.”

“So ask me,” you say with a giggle.

“Come have dinner with me,” Marcus murmurs, shaking his head in quiet amusement as he steals another gentle kiss. “Right now. Tonight.”

“You might have to open all the doors,” you tease. “My arm hurts.”

Another kiss.

“I’m wounded that you think I wouldn’t open every door regardless.”

“Are you always such a gentleman?” you remark with a wry smile.

Another. 

“Well,” Marcus grins wolfishly. He places on last, lingering kiss on your lips and then makes a show of offering his arm. “Not always.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal

[wlntrsldler]

jamie tartt late night ramblings (jamie tarttt x reader)

based on this screenshot from tiktok:

it was roy who noticed it first. your name seemed to leave jamie’s lips often— too often, like he was just saying it just to say it. you would be brought back to every conversation, every hint and whisper of a recollection, your name rolled off jamie’s tongue constantly.

roy had an “over or under” bet with keeley the next day. he bet that your name would leave jamie’s lips at least 50 times; keeley who didn’t realize just how often jamie brought you up (she was just happy to see him happy, content) scoffed and said there was no way. she lost the bet. (jamie said your name 53 times that day)

sam noticed it after the pair. he sat next to jamie on the way to manchester and he forgot his headphones (rookie mistake) and found himself on the receiving end of jamie’s babbles about date night at his apartment. sam, who grew up watching the love of his wonderful parents, felt something familiar tugging in his chest. it was the same feeling that bloomed when he got older, when the sweet words and innocent kisses his parents shared in front of him were no longer repulsive to his teenage brain, but rather something fond, something soft.

he indulged jamie in the conversation and offered a table at ola’s for next thursday. jamie beamed at him (sam had never seen him smile like that, not even when they moved back to the premier league or finished second) and thanked him profusely because you had been talking about wanting to eat at ola’s again.

“there’s just no time,” you complained, offhandedly. “between my work and your training schedule and games, i feel like we don’t get to have a restaurant dinner anymore. i miss ola’s.”

jamie would change the way time worked if you asked him to.

jan mass was the next person to notice it. him being the blunt dutchman nonchalantly asked jamie why he talked about you so much. at first, jamie was taken aback by the question. does he talk about you that much? jan quickly followed up by saying he meant no offense by this (this, jamie knew. he’d known jan too long to take offense) and said he was genuinely curious.

what jamie wanted to say was, if anyone had grown up the way he did, with the father he had, with the constant pressure of living up to an impossible standard, with the struggle of having to decide to either be a great footballer or a great man (he will be the first to admit, he chose wrong the first time, but he learned from you that he should give himself some grace. nobody is perfect in their early twenties, after all) anyone would probably talk about you as much as he did.

to jamie, you made his life so much better. sprinkles of beauty here and there from your whispers of “good mornings” when you rolled over to kiss him when you woke up in his bed; or when you would pitch the tone of your voice up to coo at a puppy walking down the street; or when you would drop coins in the tip jars at cafes while you mindlessly chatted with the baristas.

everywhere you went, there were marks of you that lingered there; in the smile of a stranger you complimented, the giggles of a child when you lean down to fix the bow in their hair; the scent of your perfume that stayed when you hugged a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. those little things made the world that much better.

jamie felt he was being selfish keeping you to himself, absorbing your love so much that sometimes he felt guilty that the rest of the world was deprived of it; so in his own way, whenever he spoke your name into conversations, into interactions, into the ether, he believed he was doing the world a favor, giving them a glimpse of the beauty that you added to the world.

but he thought that this was too much to say to jan mass in the middle of the locker room. so jamie simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “i dunno. i didn’t even realize i do it.”

#rambling because i cant sleep #rambles #jamie tartt #jamie tartt oneshot #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt x yn #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #frances writes

[sungbeam]

𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤

kim sunwoo x gn!reader

0.8k words, fluff, one swear word?

a/n: jesus take the wheel omg pls go into tags

Eric yawned as he stepped out of his room and into the main living space of his and Kim Sunwoo's shared apartment. He stopped short, eyes blinking away sleep, as his vision cleared to see you seated on the couch, nose buried in a book. Seeing you in the apartment was not a strange case since you were Sunwoo's partner, but the strange thing was what you were wearing. Eric noticed it immediately as Sunwoo's prized gray hoodie, the material practically swallowing you up.

Eric's eyes widened, even as he stepped into the room in a confused daze.

You sensed his presence and glanced up. "'Sup Eric."

He mumbled a greeting, "Hey…" He slowly made his way over to the single armchair adjacent to you, head cocked and eyes still pinned to the sweatshirt. It was just so…

"Uhm Eric?"

"Mhm?"

You chuckled, marking your book and letting it lay in your lap. "Is there something wrong?"

Eric shook his head, sitting up properly. "Oh," he stammered, "nothing, just… is that Sunwoo's hoodie?"

You pinched the material in your hands and snapped it against you. "This? Yeah, he just kind of threw it at my face on his way out to get stuff from the store."

Eric's eyes shot wide open again. "He just—gave it to you?"

"Yeah, is that supposed to be weird, dude?"

"Dude." He rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air, his palms slapping against his thighs as they came back down. "He gave you his hoodie. That's practically a proposal in Sunwoo's language."

His comment made you flush and you shrunk down beneath the collar of the hoodie like you were hiding the smile crawling onto your face. "You're being dramatic; it's not that deep," you said, even though your heart had skipped a beat at the thought of Sunwoo feeling so strongly about you. You'd known that his hoodie was a prized possession, but you hadn't wanted to over think it earlier when he literally just chucked it at you and said to "wear it if you want".

Of course you were gonna wear it. What kind of fool would you be if you didn't take the opportunity?

Eric huffed. He stood up from his seat to head into the kitchen to no doubt make himself ramen. "Fine, okay! If you don't trust me, just ask him yourself."

It was a little less than half an hour later that the front door to the apartment opened, revealing Sunwoo and his couple bags of groceries. Eric had retreated back into his room by now, but you had resumed reading your book in the comfort of Sunwoo's hoodie. (Because it wasn't as big a deal as Eric was making it, right? Right. Totally.)

His dark hair, slightly wavy from his last perm a while ago, hung in his eyes, his pink lips pouty as he dragged the bags into the kitchen and onto the counter. "Baaaaabe! Yn-ie, are you still here?"

You snorted. "Why would I be gone, dumbass?"

He came in with his head ducked, checking his phone, slippers shuffling against the floor. "Dunno. Maybe you forgot you had work or something."

"You didn't see my shoes by the door?" You asked, a smirk curling at your lips.

Sunwoo's mouth broke into a smile, then he finally glanced up.

Sometimes, he wondered how you could look so perfect just sitting there like that in his clothes. For a second, he let himself snap about five hundred mental screenshots of you in his hoodie—but just for good measure...

Click!

"Did you just take a picture of me?"

Click! Click! Click—! (He really should've had his volume off, huh.)

Sunwoo pursed his lips with a sheepish laugh as he walked over and crashed onto the cushion next to you. "No, I took like, ten."

You feigned a gasp, diving for his phone. "Aye! I better look good in those or you're trashing all of them!"

He yelled when your fingers grazed over the screen, and he stretched his arm out as far away as possible, even as you climbed over him to grab it. "Yah! No, they're mine now! You can't take them away from me!"

"They are literally my face, Kim Sunwoo!"

Sunwoo wrapped his arms around you and hugged you firmly to him to stop you from squirming anymore. "You look good; I promise," he lamented. You were now positioned sideways on his lap, loosely hugging his upper body while he snuggled into your lower half. "I couldn't help myself seeing you wear this."

You let out a breathy little laugh, cheek pressed against the top of his head and your fingers playing with his hair. "You gave it to me."

"I know."

"Eric said it's important to you."

"You're important to me."

Your heart stuttered at that comment and you couldn't quite find the right words to say, all of a sudden. "Well," you said softly, quietly. "You're very important to me, too, Sunwoo."

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @ethereal-engene

#the boyz x reader #kim sunwoo x reader #the boyz fluff #the boyz drabble #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo drabbles #sunwoo scenarios

[send-me-a-puffalope]

I. listened to a video called: "Overthinking Micheal Afton 's Monologue".

And fuck, he's also kicked dog. But it just made me think of Vanessa even more.

Like, ouugghhh. If you have time and want to listen to it, go ahead!! I just. Wanted to say that n other stuff

_________

(I took some screenshots of the video),

These all. I think they could all work for Vanessa so well in the movie.

She's known about the kids, but she has a closer attachment to them. So I don't think it would be that "uncaring", but she is certainly used to it all. She doesn't question, and she's basically casual with the information. She's used to knowing what her Father has done.

That also,, kinda leads me to another thing.

She still calls him "daddy", like a young child would. A child looking for love, care, approval, and just tender domestic family life. But she just can't get that.

Micheal calls William; "Father", as a proper way to address someone. Or it can show his hatred. I think it's both

But it's all connected by the fact, that they are his puppets.

This one, was pointed out as if the music is like. Micheal remembering, and having it be painful for him to remember.

If they were to ever have Vanessa say Micheal's monologue, in the movie. They better add some more emotions to some words. But still keep the whole "creepy tired" voice, that they had for Micheal in the games(I kinda just wanna point out again, much more of a fun fact bout the video: they guy in the video says that Will is more "up to no good" in terms of voice, while Micheal is broken. I can get how they get mistaken for each other, but that's just by looks and slightly their voice. It's the way they are that is different). "Tired" in a sense that she's, like. She's really tired emotionally/etc. and "creepy" because she's just a rotting corpse with like. Stitches to her, that she caused herself (your scooped!Vanessa idea is running all over my head)

But I think the one that she would be sent to free is, the Golden Freddy kid or.. maybe oddly enough the two young Schmidt kids(Garrett & Abby). I dunno tho. I just, like to think that it would work with the themes of Vanessa trying to be kind and a kid again. But, who knows, who she'll be "putting back together" (I'll get back to this one too. It just points so much to many aspects of FNAF I swear to fucking God)

KICKED DOG. SOSO MANY KICKED DOGS IN THIS FUCKING FAMILY—

But yeah. The "I ..." And "asked me to...", just. Ough. Because she was asked, was told, to follow his rules. To clean up "her" mess, and help fix what "she" caused.

"I put her back together." — Abby is connected to Elizabeth due to the Ella suit, and how she generally acts(Sassy, etc. Elizabeth is somewhat characterized in many AUs/Canons, to be sassy). But Vanessa is also connected to Elizabeth as a fact, that she's the daughter of William Afton, one to fall to his lies, get emotionally manipulated (I don't think that most of his kids were normal in a sense that they did things their own way. Circus Baby being made for Elizabeth? Manipulation. Fredbear plush telling CC almost everything, and maybe the one who is talking thru Fredbear is William? Manipulation. Micheal going to SL? Manipulation). Garrett also being connected to Elizabeth due to him needing to be found - being the Puppet(who in some AUs/Canons, is very clown/jester/mime themed. Even Security Puppet is mime like!) - clothing colors(pink and red are similar. Blue pants/skirts) - generally being the reason why some guy named "Mike" is doing Security jobs(maybe even stretching to Vanessa being a police officer)

"I put her back together." — the whole "together", and your idea of Scooped Vanessa, stitching herself back together. → “i.... I put myself together... Just like you would wanted me to do... (small sob/needle pulling + small whimper) ...”

Color symbolism, Blue: serenity, stability, inspiration, or wisdom. / open spaces, freedom, intuition, imagination, inspiration, and sensitivity. / Honesty & Loyalty (personality symbol of blue)

Just wanted to share the color symbolism. Which is kinda funny- to me. Because, well.

Vanessa is not anything but wisdom and a trained dog. She has wisdom, but will say fully if ever told to do so. That could be stability, but it is not serenity.

She is connected to open spaces, but they all feel so so closed and cluttered. Not open to her. Freedom? As if she has freedom(Vanessa became a Police officer, and it's highly hinted that she did not choose that for herself. Or maybe she did, and William decided to use that in his ways).

She is honest. She is loyal(but very kicked dog loyal)

I also kinda wanna point the "They thought I was you (sigh/etc" that Micheal did. And add that to Vanessa.

Maybe the whole "they thought I was you", could be when the kids saw how Vanessa shot William. If she can shot, what can she do to them? Even if they are robots, their souls are that of her friends, of kids. And anyone can turn out to be bad(e.i: William is seemingly a kind normal guy, but then he's revealed to be a child-murderer). Vanessa is related to William, the Yellow Rabbit. So what can she do, if she can shoot?

And if the Cassidy Afton theory is true in the movie verse. Then, what can happen? His Father killed him, so what can his sister do? She shot their Father. She let their Father kill him.

So, "they thought I was you" could just be how the kids rumored how Vanessa would act towards them. Might just be their fear, but Golden Freddy has reasons to fear her. He might be big, might be a predator that finally killed his killer, his own Father. But - his sister is still here.

He cares, he hates, he fears Vanessa.

“They thought I would act like you... (scoff/sob) ..."

Reason why I added the "(scoff/sob)" is because, it just fits. Her own brother fears her, hates her. Her friends fear her. She lets out more of a cry, but she scoffs because why would she ever act like Him?

Getting this one, because I just like it. But it also fits. Vanessa is also supposed to be dead, but she's not. And that's wrong.

It hurts her to remember about her brother, or like. Her closest confidant. So she goes ahead to talk about herself. How she seemingly survived what was supposed to be her last time breathing.

And it is her last time breathing, but she's still here.

And that's just ... Wrong. It's impossible, scientifically impossible, and just wrong. But she's still here and she's proving it wrong

Your brainrot of her is highly infecting me. It's crazy man

(now I'm thinking of how she and the Schmidt family acted like in the past, <- very heavy on Schmidts = Emily's theory)

Me jumping up and down excitedly reading through this cause I have. So Much. to say about my Vanessa and Elizabeth AU fic but I also don’t wanna spoil anything 👁️👁️ But the Michael SL monologue (Vanessa version) has me in a CHOKEHOLD OH MY LORD. I want them to do Sister Location so bad but idk if the movies are gonna go in that direction (i mean SL is pretty dang important to the FNAF lore unless they end at like ~FNAF 4 ig??? or just skip all the weird/suspension of disbelief parts of SL)

I love love love the idea of “I…I put her back together… just like you wanted me to” changing to “I…I put myself back together…just like you would’ve wanted me to”. IT JUST HITS ALL THE ANGST SPOTS. I’m obsessed with my own scooped!Vanessa idea with her sewing patches of fabric into her own skin but I flip flop between why she does it. It’s between injuries/rot from Ennard that won’t heal because yknow. She’s dead. Or her living after a FNAF 6-esque fire that leaves her with burn scars and she sews patches to cover up the worst of the burn scars. I just. The idea of Vanessa, newly unEnnarded, sobbing alone while sewing herself shut again and talking to her dead dad for comfort because he was all she ever knew…. wondering why she was still alive…………..

(the irony that the one willing/wanting to die being the one to survive despite the fact that she very much Shouldn’t Be Alive)

and the spirits in SL being afraid of Vanessa because she’s an Afton??? Me when I Break Down 😭😭😭💥💥💥💥 Cause Vanessa’s biggest fear is becoming her father and not being able to escape her bloodline/destiny for tragedy.

I do think it’s interesting to consider that if they do SL, Vanessa thinks that William is dead so lines like ‘I’m going to come find you…” doesn’t make sense. I do hope they still give her a variation of the monologue tho cause I think the SL Michael monologue, the Bite of 83, and the FNAF 6 Henry monologue are THE most iconic parts of FNAF.

The main hitting point of SL is the fact that Michael finds his sister down there. If the FNAF movies have Vanessa going down there… well it simply wouldn’t hit as hard if she didn’t have some form of a dead sibling down in that bunker right??? Though ig it would be kind of weird to have Abby almost get Ella dolled in a Baby parallel/reference and then also have an Elizabeth in Baby. Who knows (<- desperately wants to know)

#fnaf vanessa #vanessa afton #vanessa shelly #michael afton #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #long post #ask!!! #sotogalmo #audrey!!!

[spider-socorro-stan]

Avatar 3 script leaks

Potential spoilers ahead! If you don't want to know anything about Avatar 3, this is not the post for you. And for those of you who have seen the leaks, this is not new info, I'm like super late with this, I'm just trying to compile all the script pages into one post. Plus there is one page that I feel like has not been discussed enough, hence this post.

Spoilers under the read more, you have been warned!

Okay, first of all, yes, I'm well aware the script leaks might be fake to throw us off, or at the very least no longer true because some rewrites have happened. I get it. But, in this post, I will treat them as an accidental leak, so bear with me.

I think most of you are now aware of the first two pages, I have seen a lot of posts with them, so I'm not gonna dwell too much on those. Here are the transcripts, by reddit user hdk759:

Another reddit user, Ereska, was able to transcribe a little bit more from the second page, so combined, these two pretty much give us the whole page:

Right, so Jake and Quaritch have a little talk about Spider, who can now breathe Pandoran air, and for once these two are not actively trying to kill each other, so that's pretty interesting. What is also interesting is that all the kids are also supposedly there, when they rush to a wounded Neytiri (and on that note, where has she been? Who was she fighting?). Neytiri hugs her kids (excluding Spider, might I point out), then we cut to them all returning to High Camp where Tuk and Mo'at hug. And we have seen that scene in the behind the scenes footage, which is another reason why I really don't think the script is fake.

Note: Avatar Theory also did a video on these script leaks and in the comment section someone mentioned Va'ru is an old name for Tarsem, the new chief of the Omatikaya. So it's not a new character, just good old Tarsem, very wise for his young age :)

Onto pages 3 and 4!

These are sadly harder to read, since a lot of the text is covered, but a twitter user AkumuHoshi did their best to transcribe them too:

There's a lot of stuff missing, but I found this screenshot from reddit user BentusFr which is in pretty high definition and you can read more of the text there:

So we start off with Jake and Neytiri in a Biolab in High camp, looking at Spider, who's probably being looked at by the scientists. Jake talks about how Spider is now in danger and can't stay there, because he will become RDA's target if they find out he can breathe the air, and then Neytiri suggests: "If he is so dangerous [text hidden], you should just kill him." Cool cool cool. Guess she ain't warming up to Spider anytime soon. Jake, understandably, does not like that idea, to which Neytiri replies: "Toruk Makto knows [blurred text, but to me it seems like duty? I dunno, it's one short word, that one made the most sense to me.]"

The rest of the text is too hidden to make much sense of, but we do cut to a different scene - the Tree of Souls. Kiri is trying to connect to Eywa, but gets another seizure and Mo'at has to disconnect her from the tree. And then we have a scene with Mo'at and Kiri, where we find out it was Kiri who made it possible for Spider to breathe the air, and she did so without any sacred trees nearby, she just made the roots to obey her and performed the miracle. She doesn't remember actually doing it, but Mo'at tells her she knows in her heart, and Kiri admits she did it herself. Mo'at then warns her to tell no one about it.

So here's what I want to know, were Kiri and Spider the only ones included in that miracle, or was Jake and the kids, possibly even Quaritch, there to see it? Remember, on the first script page, Jake tells Quaritch "You witnessed it tonight." and then a "long night of horrors and miracles" is mentioned on the second page. So who all knows what Kiri did? Who is Mo'at trying to protect her from?

And finally, we get to the last somewhat readable page, there is still one more that is unfortunately too blurry to be readable, at least I never saw any mention of anything else happening. So, page 5 it is!

I have no idea when the scene on that page happens, could be before the events on the first four script pages we have seen here, could be after. Personally, I think it's before. But it's just a guess. Here's the previous screenshot by BentusFr cropped and rotated to get a better look at it:

As far as I know, nobody has transcribed the text, and it does get more blurry as it goes, but the beginning is somewhat readable, so here's my best attempt at transcribing it:

VARANG WILLS Quaritch's arm to [text hidden] bulging, as his HAND OPENS and he [text hidden]

WAINFLEET takes a [text too blurry for me to read] untangling his head and arms, [can't read this one] He drops two WILD [blurry and hidden text] slams into the first na'vi to him [hidden text]

Another BOLO entangles his legs and [hidden text]

Honestly, from this point the text becoms too blurry for me to read, I do recognise a word here or there, but can't really make out a sentence from that. However, JAKE is mentioned in the next paragraph, so he's probably also there. Varang also goes on to have a bunch of lines that I sadly can't read. But if any of you can make sense of this text, by all means, feel free to let me know!

So it appears Quaritch and Wainfleet (and possibly Jake) get captured by the Ash Na'vi led by Varang. And somehow, Varang is able to control Quaritch's hand. Tsaheylu, anyone? Though probably not very consensual. But the idea of Ash people being willing to use their kuru for taking control of their enemies is quite interesting, and also really disturbing. And barely anyone talks about this! (And yes, I did make this whole post because of this one snippet of script, sue me.)

So why do I think this scene happens before the whole Spider can breathe Pandoran air miracle? The leaked image from Jon Landau's video. You know, this one:

Here's Quaritch talking to Varang, still in his RDA military gear, with Spider, Lo'ak and either Kiri or Tsireya (probably Kiri) being held by the Ash na'vi in the background.

What if this is what leads to Wainfleet showing up to help Quaritch, and Jake and probably Neytiri (and other Omatikaya) coming in to save their kids, they fight with Ash na'vi, Neytiri stays behind which might be when she gets injured, while Jake and Quaritch get the kids out of there. And maybe, somewhere along the line, Spider's mask gets broken, they don't have a spare, he starts suffocating and Kiri saves him.

So yeah. That's my take on it. Thoughts?

#avatar 3 #avatar 3 spoilers #avatar spoilers #avatar 3 script leaks #script leaks #avatar #meta #jake sully #neytiri #kiri #mo'at #spider soccoro #quaritch #recom quaritch #varang #ash people #ash na'vi

[devilsrecreation]

Random TLG screenshots I took out of context

Can we just talk about how funny the crocs look when Hodari lands on their snouts. I dunno why but it does hjfgfgf

Makuu looking at Dogo’s sibling like “Do we have a problem?”

Bro looks so unamused lmao

I have no words for this one, this is just funny 😭

THE FACIAL EXPRESSIONS ARE FREAKING GOLDEN HERE CHEEZI’S SCREAMING IN PAIN AND KENGE’S LIKE “OH SHIT”

It was at this moment Kenge knew….he fucked up

Njano’s confusion here is immaculate omg

……Someone drew this. And whoever did it is going to hell, I guarantee-

I will never get over their faces. They’re perfect kghfgfgfg

Makuu’s face in this pic and during the entire scene in general screams “kill me”

You can tell he’s lowkey regretting becoming a leader lmao

Cheezi deserved to go absolutely apeshit, honestly. That’s like the craziest he’s ever been

#wonder if i should do more of these #cuz there are a lot of screenshots you can take out of context #will never get over how expressive this show is like my god #the lion guard

[tigerdrop]

so im kiiiinda redoing half of my fic. to account for the, uh. "canonically being able to put gordon into the computer" thing.

on the one hand i think its a way better deal b/c i will look 10% less insane writing about benrey literally putting him into the sims and playing with him like a doll . but on the other hand i have a bunch of words about gordon fingering himself that i cant use anymore

so. here they are, for u. "Enjoy"

———

Gordon blinks at the screen.

Benry Benry wants to have Oraljob sex with Gordon Freeman. Do you wish to proceed?

The laugh that erupts from him is high-pitched and violent, leaving him gasping for air. Benrey cackles in his ear. “I— I— Oh my God,” Gordon wheezes, doubling over. “You want to have what with me?! We can’t— We can’t show that on a Christian channel! We’re going to get so banned—“

“do you want to—“ Benrey can’t finish the sentence, gripped in the most intense laughter Gordon’s ever heard from him. “do you want to have oraljob?”

Gordon clutches his desk, weeping and howling.

When he calms down from his sudden fit of hysterics, he clicks “No”, to a chorus of disappointment from the chat. “I know, I know,” he says, sympathetic, “but seriously, Papa’s gotta pay the bills. Gotta keep it clean. PG-13, that’s my motto.”

“then why’s your dick out,” Benrey wheezes.

“Very funny—“

He stops in his tracks when he sees that his dick is, in fact, out. His Sims dick, that is. Gordon slams his ‘commercial break’ button so hard that he misses a few keys and takes a screenshot.

“Whoa! Put that thing away, man!”

“nice,” Benrey says appreciatively.

“Bear with me, folks,” Gordon begs. “We’re having some, uh, technical difficulties.” Why did his dick pop out? He said no! (In fairness, his Sim is decidedly not having oraljob sex. He’s eating a sandwich. With his penis out.) He hurriedly clicks through menus upon menus, trying to find a way to put his clothes back on, but none of the options do what he wants. “Why can’t I put away my stupid dick?!”

“hey, look. you just went up a level in nudism,” Benrey snorts.

Gordon buries his head in his hands, but can’t stop himself from an anguished laugh. “Okay! Give me fifteen, everybody. Go smoke a cigarette— or, or vape, I know the kids are big on the Juul these days, I don’t care, I’m not your dad.”

With that, he ends the stream.

“What kind of fucking mods did you download on my computer?” he asks, exasperated. “I feel like I need to give it a bath.”

“normal ones.”

“Uh-huh. You know my dick’s not even rendering correctly, right?”

“huh?” Benrey zooms in on it. “huh. it’s, uh. checkered.”

[some sort of connecting thought]

“I don’t even look like that, anyway,” Gordon mutters, brushing him off.

Benrey peers down at him. The webcam light turns on, drawing Gordon’s eye. “huh. i dunno. i can see the, uh… the resemblance.” He enunciates the last word carefully.

“Did you just turn on my webcam? Are we streaming right now?” Gordon sits upright, hastily checking on his streaming software. Still offline. Not that it would have mattered - he’s panned away to look at a stray dog in his yard - but it’s the principle of the thing.

“yeah, uh. no,” mumbles Benrey.

Gordon closes down OBS and Firefox entirely. Just to be safe. “A little fucking warning next time? How did you even do that?”

“administrator privileges.”

There’s a pause. Then Gordon sinks back down into his chair, defeated. “I shouldn’t have given you those. I should have smashed you up into little pieces when I had the chance. After you bought fucking Burnout Paradise on my dime—“

“you should show me what you look like,” blurts out Benrey, voice low and blunt.

“I— What?”

“i can make it look better. more like you.”

Gordon stares at the screen. Benrey avoids his gaze. He boggles a little, so far beyond comprehending this that he’s skipped past ‘denial’ and ‘anger’ all the way into ‘acceptance’. “Are you— Are you hitting on me?”

“for the immersion,” Benrey says stiffly.

———

Gordon throws his head back in frustration. “They’re just not— fucking— they’re not big enough! They’re short and stubby and I can’t— get them— where I want!” His wrist bends, desperately seeking something that he can’t describe. The tendons sing in pain. He hisses, then relaxes it, letting his hand fall limp.

Benrey stares down at him, mouth parted.

“This was stupid,” groans Gordon. “Now my hand’s all sticky and I don’t wanna wipe it on anything—“

“try again,” Benrey interrupts him, blunt and hoarse. “please?”

Gordon peers blearily at him from over the top of his glasses. “Huh?”

“i wanna.” That massive jaw gyres, struggling to work itself around a thought. “i could do it better. make it good.”

Heat rockets through Gordon’s belly, spiraling up his spine and leaving his hairs standing on end. His dick twitches without his conscious effort. Benrey’s eyes immediately dart to it. Emboldened, Gordon draws his fingertips around his hole, threatening to slip back in. “Yeah, bud? You sure? I don’t think you’ve ever done this before.”

“how would you know,” Benrey puffs.

“Uh, well, you’re in my fucking computer, for one thing.” He slips two fingers in with little resistance, just up to the second knuckle. For show. Nobody say he never did anything for Benrey. “But you know what? Maybe this’ll be funny.”

Benrey’s face hardens. “it’s not funny,” he says, pouting in high-definition. “i would never joke about pussy shit.”

“Point one: That is one hundred percent not true,” Gordon points out. “Point two—“ He curls them and groans, a soft noise. “I wanna hear it. Straight from the horse’s mouth.”

“what does this got to do with horses,” says Benrey, bewildered.

Gordon shifts in his seat, stretching a leg high into the air and gripping the back of his thigh to hold it firmly in place. His fingers move in a slow, back-and-forth motion, just enough that they visibly slide in and out, shiny and wet. Benrey makes a strangled noise in his throat.

“You think you could make it good for me? Tell me. Show me what I’m missin’ out on.”

Benrey’s fingers twitch around his avatar, scaled up to giant-like proportions, far too big for the task at hand but itching to put it into practice. “fuckin’,” he starts, low and rumbling and struggling to articulate himself, “stretch you open… mine’re bigger. lookie.” With his other hand, he waggles his fingers in front of Gordon.

“Well, duh,” Gordon says.

Above him, Benrey’s gaze shifts to his own hand, gears churning behind his eyes. “they’re still bigger,” he insists.

To prove his point, he snaps them - in a stomach-churning instant, Gordon’s camera snaps back to an isometric viewpoint, looking in on their dollhouse. On them. On Benrey’s Sim, pale and shirtless, beads of sweat tastefully textured on his skin, leaning over his own on the cheapest double bed Simoleons could buy. There’s a hand pressed against the mattress, and another at his waist. Pawing at him. And, unlike Gordon’s own hands, they’re proportioned well for a guy his size: closer to dinner plates than the slim, short ones he’s furiously trying to bend into the right shape in real life.

He shivers in his seat.

“Point taken,” he says. His voice cracks partway through.

As if on cue, their Sims start moving again, gracelessly sliding and snapping into a new position. Gordon’s stripped naked, letting Benrey between his legs, and one large hand buries itself in that hairy, thorny knot of polygons and glossy pink textures while the other holds him wide open. The fidelity’s good enough that Gordon can see exactly how the fingers curl: two outside, keeping them back, and two inside, making his Sim’s hips gyrate.

“lookatchu,” Benrey rumbles in his ear. “takin’ it like a champ…”

Gordon sucks in a sudden breath. He curls his own fingers in time with the animation, speeding up to match.

“bet you could take more.”

He whines and visibly clenches around his fingers. “Jesus, man!”

“yeah? yeah? c’mon,” taunts Benrey, shy of breath. “show me. put another one in.”

Gordon weakly mumbles some expletives as he leans his head into the crook of his headphones. Presses himself closer to that voice. “Who taught you how to fucking— talk like that,” he groans, pushing in a third finger.

The fans inside his tower spin faster. Louder. “fuuuck, dude,” he hears, a low, pained utterance.

“I’d let you,” Gordon says dizzily, “God, I must have lost my fucking mind, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” his fingers make slick, filthy, squelching noises inside of himself, “let you put your hand in me—“

“i wanna,” Benrey cuts him off, too fast. Eager. “wanna fuckin’— wear you like a puppet—“

Gordon makes a sharp noise that surprises even himself. The he half-laughs, half-pleads, “Don’t say shit like that! That’s not— That’s not hot!”

“you moaned. i heard it, buddy.”

He ignores this. Benrey takes the opportunity to lean in, getting a closer view of Gordon’s webcam. And the slick folds Gordon’s spreading open for him.

#writin stuff #i cant really keep this in but i also cant really cram it into the other AI benrey thing i wanna write. so .

[ex-textura]

Didn’t some devs say his explosion ending is his good ending? And that he was the annoying guy? Did they try to write a character we’d laugh at and find pathetic and hate? Because if they did, they failed.

So I went back through my screenshots to get quotes from that article but I've only got the one, and I'm so sorry but I'm gonna talk about it:

Obviously, I very vocally took issue with this article when it came out and to be clear I still do. But I want to be more clear, I think, on the actual issue I have with it.

I'm not annoyed that they call Gale annoying. I know he is. Hell, he knows he is, to some degree. That's part of his character and part of I think why so many of us relate to him. I'm annoying as fuck, despite all the years I spent trying to make myself smaller and more palatable so that people would like me.

The issue I have is the way they talk about it. I don't have a screenshot of the part where they said that his death is a good ending and I'm not totally sure that's even the correct wording (I don't think it is) so I'm not gonna touch on that but the bit at the end of this particular quote, that he "gives himself for the world" just rubs me the wrong way.

Killing yourself to save the world isn't redemption for being annoying. It's such an extreme as to be laughable.

And I'm not saying it's the wrong ending at all. There are no wrong endings this is a role playing game. Play the role you want.

But there's a feeling of....I dunno. I don't think glorification is the right word but it's the best I can come up with... In the way they talk about it and the way the game treats it.

Yes. Gale can absolutely kill himself to save the world. That's very much an option and it's a dramatic way to end the story of a frankly very dramatic man.

But he doesn't HAVE to. This isn't the only choice presented to him especially by the end of the game! You've been given so much power and so many allies and so much time to get to know him and his story and the root of it all. He's had time to grow, to see the truth of his relationship with Mystra and if you're kind to him, to see his worth beyond just what his magic can provide.

At the end of it all to look at him and say "okay anyway, time to pay your dues" and let him explode is definitely a big ending. But it's not a "good" ending. It's tragic and, in my opinion, feels like a waste of what might have been a lot of growth for him.

And then that, added to all the different ways everyone can shit on him like no other companion throughout the game, is what makes the whole thing so sour for me.

They made a character that talks a lot, that is arrogant and can't read the room and kind of weird. But they also made him earnest and kind and passionate. The way his self-importance wars with his self-esteem is so interesting and relatable.

And then they said fuck this guy and I guess we didn't take it the way they meant for us to 🤷‍♂️

#im sorry this was a damn book #and I'm still not sure i got to my point #gale IS annoying and i fucking LOVE him for it #an absolute loser who i want biblically #being annoying shouldn't be a death sentence #i don't think i want to put this in the main tag #im not ready for anon hate

[tobiasdrake]

The Disappearance of Yuki Nagato, Episode 1.

I like how, back in Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya, I said they should just stop the movie halfway through and end it on everyone settling into the new reality and accepting this world as it is. But the movie disagreed with me.

But then they cancelled the show and when they brought it back they decided that they want to make a show in the new reality instead of going back to the original canon.

So I feel kinda vindicated by that.

Anyways, Yuki show on Crunchyroll with screenshots provided by shady piracy website, let's go!

I am so confused by the status quo of Yuki World. Specifically Kyon. But also specifically the continued existence of Yuki World post-Disappearance.

Melancholy was always pretty up-front with the fact that it does not operate on Multiverse Theory. There exists only one timeline, with time travelers moving back and forth between points on the single line - and, in fact, the presence of people from the future in the past is already baked into the present.

Kyon had to travel back in time to meet Kid Haruhi on Tanabata and give her the idea to go to North High because that's how the history goes. Kyon was always there on Tanabata giving Haruhi the idea to go to North High.

So I am already baffled about what this world is. Kyon is part of the Literature Club and has dinners with Yuki and Ryoko, which implies that he remembers the events of the movie. We don't know much about Alt Kyon but we do know that he and Yuki never spoke two words to one another.

So it could be, like, a What If scenario if Kyon chose to stay and not end Yuki's new reality. But this can't be Original Kyon because he's on good terms with Ryoko. Our Kyon was quite understandably freaked out by the girl who tried to stab him with a knife.

Are we in "Out-of-continuity Loosely Based On" territory? Because they're making references to the movie in the first two minutes so it feels like a direct spinoff. Even though it's metaphysically impossible to be a direct spinoff, because this reality doesn't exist anymore.

(Also Haruhi made her intentions pretty clear that she wanted to form an SOS Brigade on this side of the temporal fence so the fact that Yuki World still has a Literature Club is another mark against a direct spinoff.)

I dunno. My mind is spinning.

RUN YUKI

RUN LIKE HELL

"But she has no powers in this reality--" SHE'S STILL HARUHI

Wonder if Yuki still has Haruhi's powers in this reality? Huh.

Also, I like how Yuki Show begins where Disappearance was. This world was created in the days leading up to Christmas, so it figures that a Christmas Party would be the first thing we're doing. The chronology is consistent.

Which. Again. Makes it so baffling. Are we spinning canonically out of Disappearance or doing our own thing? Make up your mind!

That being said,

New Yuki is such an neurodivergent disaster girl. XD

Yuki: I want to be able to experience a full range of emotions and feelings. Monkey's Paw: I mean you're like 15 which is a pretty overwhelming time hormonally but sure. Here you go. Unlocking full range of emotions to process for the very first time ever in your life.

I wonder how much Ryoko knows? Her appearance at the end of Disappearance implied that she retains at least enough understanding of the situation to kill Kyon with a knife without even questioning why he was trying to shoot Yuki full of science gun.

I don't think she's still a Space Robot because if she had Space Robot powers that fight would have been much different. But she fully understood the situation when she showed up with knife in hand. And I think we can be pretty sure that she did that on her own; Yuki did not intend for her to kill Kyon.

But also, it's not clear how much of Disappearance actually applies to the reality of Yuki Show since Yuki doesn't remember meeting Haruhi and Haruhi hasn't formed this world's version of SOS Brigade.

One way or the other, at least she's still secretly vicious. I love her. Ryoko is making a compelling argument for Best Character and we're only six minutes in.

And then they put a knife in her hand hahahahaha.

Spinoff or alt continuity, they at least know exactly what they're doing with Ryoko.

I like how Ryoko is filling our Crazy Asshole quota but she's a very different flavor of Crazy Asshole from Haruhi. Haruhi was a gleeful crime person while Ryoko (who I think I recall being Class President?) is Lawful Menace. She'll stab you, sure, but she's not about to permit a hot pot on school premises. That would be inappropriate.

And she ships it.

Yeah. Okay. Ryoko is definitely Best Character. She isn't my character, of course; My character's Haruhi. But she is quickly making a name for herself as this show's MVP.

She ships it so hard that she's prepared flirtation cue cards. Everyone should have a bestie like Ryoko Asakura. She reels in the crushes and knifes anyone who looks at her bestie the wrong way.

Oh shit it's them.

I guess it was too much to hope that Mikuru and Tsuruya still hated Kyon's guts in this reality.

How does he even know these two? They're upperclassmen. He only ever met them in our timeline because Haruhi violently abducted Mikuru.

I would like to have a moment of silence for Mikuru.

Because Tsuruya just got her stabbed. She is so stabbed.

The "Yuki vs. Mikuru" fight is definitely going to end with Yuki, Kyon, and Mikuru going out for lunch while Ryoko and Tsuruya resort to street brawling each other.

They have the space heater!?

The one they got for performing in Haruhi's film? The absence of which from this reality was specifically one of the ways it deviated from the original?

...come to think of it, they don't have the computer. The presence of which was one of the ways it bizarrely did not deviate from the original.

This really is a continuity-free Loosely Based On, isn't it?

Lawful Menace. Ryoko found just the right hoops to jump through in order to obtain formal permission to violate the rules.

I love how she brings just enough Haruhi-esque attitude to the show while still being so distinctly separate from Haruhi in personality and behavior.

AWWWWWWWW They kept that! YIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Oh no, she is going to be part of the show.

Yuki. Yuki, run. You have no idea. You have no idea. RUN.

^_^ This show is so cute. I think I'm going to have a good time with it.

#the melancholy of haruhi suzumiya #drake watches haruhi suzumiya #the disappearance of yuki nagato

[tiredhermitgirl]

Miri in relation to Rei

Ok so I made a post about Rei in relation to Miri but I also wanted to explore Miri's relationship with Rei because I do think there is a difference and this relationship actually made me like Miri a hell of a lot more. *I didn't hate her at all but I did find her annoying the first 2 episode*

Also quick disclaimer again but I still do not know how to screenshot things so I am banking on people's memories to understand what I am referring to when I make a point. Sorry!

OK ANYWAY!

I love how the writers have written Miri, ESPECIALLY when it comes to how she handles Rei.

What stood out to me right from the beginning was how subdued she was whenever she interacted with Rei. She definitely had her moments of hyperness with him but for the most part, she is very quiet and actually like talks to him, if that makes ANY sense! Like ok so take episode 2 and how she is with Kazuki. When she interacts with Kazuki she is VERY hyper, very needy, and very focused on what she wants. As a child typically is you know? In the first two episodes she acts like a child with Kazuki in the inconvenient sense like saying "i don't know" when Kazuki is trying to get information out of her or when she doesn't listen to Kazuki and instead runs around because she wants to play hide and seek.

Episode 3 is when we see more of Miri's personality and thought process and it is in relation to Rei. Like one of my favorite scenes in this anime is the bathtub scene in episode 3 just because of how both Miri and Rei act with each other. This is the first time we see Miri calm but still happy and this is the first time we see her have a full blown conversation. She asks questions about Rei and rather than brush her off, Rei answers honestly but in a way that won't traumatize Miri. And in response to that Miri tries to get him to smile and talks about what her mother use to do for her to get her to smile. This scene is just so wholesome because both of them are being so gentle with each other.

In the same episode, Miri actually answers Rei questions as well. When Rei asks Miri why she refers to Kazuki as her papa, she doesn't say i dunno and run off nor does she ask what he means. She actually takes the time and answers his question in a truthful and very childlike way. Like it is the way they both try to understand each other in the beginning that gets me everytime!

I'm not going to list specific episodes but another thing that I have noticed is that in the anime as well as official art by the creator, Miri is almost ALWAYS falling asleep on Rei or by Rei. With Kazuki there are more moments of them being active or playful but like with Rei, she is subdued to the point that she is comfortable falling asleep on him. I don't know, the moments are softer and have a quiet feel to them. And i think that has a lot to do with Miri sensing his energy. Like Rei is definitely the calmer of the two and I think Miri picks up on that and acts accordingly. Similarly, I think she picks up on Rei being a touch-starved baby because she is always touching him wether she is in his lap or hanging off of his shoulder, she is always in contact with him.

What really hit the idea of her perceptiveness for me tho was the episode of Rei's birthday, i think it was episode 8??? Idk. Anyway. The conversation she has with Kazuki, where she states that sometimes Rei looks so sad. The same way her mother would get sometimes like... what people sometimes don't understand is that children notice A LOT of things and while you may think you are hiding it well, they can sense when something is off. I think that Miri could sense that Rei was someone who hasn't experienced much love and care and made it her mission to show him that love because she could tell that he wanted to experience it deep down.

Idk I just feel like both Miri and Rei have an understanding of each other that doesn't need words like their relationship is very sweet and wholesome and I just love how these two are with each other.

I did not articulate this as well as I wanted to but I hope y'all get the overarching message I am going for!

#buddy daddies #miri unasaka #suwa rei #rei suwa #unasaka miri #rei and miri

[hajimedics]

Its nice to have someone i can chat to over asks! Because none of my friends actually have. Proper intrest in welcome home.. And honestly i can see why because theres a lot of questionable media going around, especially with the aus and the rf au.. The rf au is probably the au I dislike the most, if any video has it I just click off, because of the amount the sexulized audios and videos of him even though the creator of the au is a MINOR and uncomfortable with it.. EGH people freak me out man..

Anyways.. Do you have a favorite au? I only have a few an they are rather uncommon ones, that are based off of already existing shows and stuff, for example the nighmare before Christmas au, i love frank's, eddie's and juile's designs in it! And homes, and howdy's- I like all of them! I've found the spooky month au and i like the wally isn't the main character for once/lh, and it puts a spin on things which i like, i stay away from most popular au medias since of the controversy and some of the questionionable videos-

I wish i had a big or even just a small teddy of a welcome home character to add to my uh.. 'Collection?' Dunno if that's the right word though, unfortunately I can't afford a peanut (the Wally's that clown is selling)

Ngl clown would make bank off of welcome home colouring books and stuff

I've seen a glimpse of the rf AU from a screenshot I saw on twitter DX sounds really far from my alley. and from what I've seen based on quick youtube search is that he's portrayed really differently from what wally's personality is supposed to be.

I usually steer clear of welcome home AUs that portray wally darling as a tall suave sexyman and his hair is loose and not in his usual pomp. probably because it sets off a pavlovian response in me that his character is about to be butchered to cater to ""the simps"". eh, each to their own. I'll just ignore things I dislike and won't police anyone. no hate to people that enjoy them. though I'm a bit surprised to hear that the creator of the rf AU is a minor... this is the welcome home n*fw situation all over again from june where people disrespect clown's boundaries and he eventually made a separate tag for it. I hope the creator of the AU is doing okay, gosh, that's terrifying.

I do like some of the AUs here! I love the AU where wally and friends go to the real world and meet a playfellow co ex-employee called fionn and live in a chaotic housemate situation. I also like the royalty AU where wally's a childish king, howdy going against wally's regime, eddie as a knight, thief sally.... it's so fun and goofy. I love it!!!!

basically I enjoy any AU where the themes of freedom/control and puppetry and humanity are prevalent because my mind is so hungry for any theme analysis in the welcome home community. I remember a comic where frank tries to remove the strings on his hands and has to keep the horror hidden from his loved ones. I couldn't stop thinking about it. that's the kind of content I crave!!!

I also did think of an AU back in july! it's called "human wholeness" (their human depiction can be seen in my art tag) where the puppets turned into humans and slowly realize that the fredom wally envisioned for them is not all sunshines and rainbows.... look at the screenshots for context.... hope you enjoy

#asks #anonymous #welcome home

[gothamcityhistory]

Detective Comics #27

Where it all began

Cover:

This is a great cover to start things out! It's iconic!! I always love seeing the redraws of this!

I got this screenshot of the cover from the Batman: The Golden Age Vol. 1 which you can tell from the fact that the words "THE BATMAN!" on the cover are black and not red like the original cover from 1939. For the rest of this post I will be using screenshots from an old digitization of the comic except for a few which I got from The Golden Age Vol 1. which I use at the end. Even though it says "64 pages of action" on the cover, The "Bat-Man" story is only 9 pages long and I will only be focusing on that. (Sorry Slam Bradley fans!) Now to get into the issue.

It starts off with this title page where they introduce the "Bat-Man" to the reader. It's very nice!

It's very strange to see him labeled at the "Bat-Man". I'm just not used to it but anyways they drop it fully Detective Comics #30. (Also note that I read it like "Bat Dash Man")

It's also very sad to see The Batman only credited to Bob Kane. Bill Finger did mostly everything and didn't get recognition for it until 2015.

Anyway, Back to the comic-

Bruce Wayne and Commissioner Gordon are chilling out at Gordon's place when suddenly Gordon gets a call about a recent murder. They need him there right away and in the most laid-back way, he's like, "Hey, Bruce, buddy, pal, chum, they need me at a murder scene... Wanna come with?"

and Bruce is deadass like "Eh sure. Why not"

Everything was so casual in the 30s god damn.

Anyway, They rush over to the scene of the crime

and after "a thorough examination of the scene of the crime" they decide to talk to the victims son, who is the current murder suspect.

He's like, "I didn't do it, I only grabbed the knife when I pulled it out of my dad's chest!" And, weirdly, Gordon doesn't press any further on it. He's just like "Yep okay."

Also, he could've stayed alive if you didn't pull the knife out dummy. But I digress

He then responds to Gordon's question like "Dunno, Except these 3 guys"

Also the comedic timing of that- I made a joke to my friend when I first read this comic that the reason why Steve Crane was excited was because he bet Lambert a hundred bucks in 1939 dollars that the threat on his life was real- I know excited back then meant having excessive emotions but I just thought it was funny.

You sus mf. I SEE you Bruce. If that even is your real name.

I also love this panel.

After Crane gets shot the murderer/robber escapes with a piece of paper.

When Suddenly...

The Bat-Man shows up and beats the hell out of them and takes the paper. Then Gordon and the police arrive to Steven Crane's house as the Bat-Man runs away. Gordon then finds out Crane has been killed and decides to go to Paul Rogers house

Also look at my little man

He's so proud of himself.

I also love the fact that he drives off in Bruce Wayne's car from earlier in the issue. He's so silly

Meanwhile, Rogers goes to his friend's, Alfred Stryker's, neighboring Laboratory where he encounters Strykers assistant, Jennings, and gets smacked and trapped by him.

I thought this panel was hilarious.

Like Boi! What kind of guinea pigs are you experimenting with that you need to a jar that can fit a human inside and also why are you gassing guinea pigs???

He then seals the chamber but not before the "Bat-Man" enters, plugs the gas-jet and breaks Rogers out.

Speaks for itself really. Styker then finds out his assistant failed at killing Rogers and tries to kill him himself but the Bat-Man, who had hidden, jumps out and prevents the Stryker from killing Roger. The Bat-Man explains why Stryker like Velma at the end of an episode and then Stryker breaks out of The Bat-Mans hold and then

The Bat-Man straight up kills him and is like "Good."

Bro is so sus. No one acts this way. And then what's more is that Gordon is like "Man. bro is so bored all the time."

Look at my silly dressing up in his bat fursuit!!

Can't wait for next month!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Sorry I basically recapped the whole story. It was very short but every panel had something interesting happening!! I definitely recommend it!!

Things I liked and found interesting!!

I found it interesting how they have text explaining the situation instead of just letting the photos do the talking.

Thought It's probably like that because they only had 9 pages to tell the story.

I liked Commissioner Gordon's fit in this issue.

It's a very nice Zebra-like suit that would allow him to fit in with the the weirdo 248 issues from now. It's just so snazzy!

I also like how Gordon takes things at face value and doesn't do some deeper thinking like how I'd assume a police commissioner would. "Well obviously he didn't kill his father. He literally just said he didn't". "I just told Bruce something amazing and he looks like he had heard it before. He must lead a boring life"

I also love The Bat-Man costume in this issue

Purple glove Batman... My beloved <3

The art in this issue is great too!! I'll pick out a few of my favourite panels to show.

Thank you all for reading my first blog post!!

Come back whenever! Rarely the same Bat-Time but always the same Bat-Blog

#Detective Comics #1930s #1939 #Golden Age #Detective Comics 27

[godnectar]

Hey are you copying saelestia or inspired? You nearly have the same theme as her old one don’t wanna accuse you or anything

She had the same theme February 15th and now you have nearly the same theme February 25th with the pictures and everything

note: dunno why I took this message so seriously but still did

gonna be completely honest– I just woke up, it's 9 in the morning (early asf for me on a Saturday), and at first I had no idea what you are talking about or which theme are we even referring to 💀😭

So I went to search that blog, 'cause I srs didn't recognize it, and didn't see anything related, but then kinda found what you mean (which is kinda (much) crazy to me ngl) ⤵️

anon's first "point" 🫠 (y'all have the same theme, same pictures)

I'm guessing these are the themes you're asking about 🙃 and yes, they do have the same two pictures at the header 🙂 but can you really say that "you nearly have the same theme as her old one"?? 🙃🙃 please–

anon's second "point" 🫠 (bc 1st doesn't need any further explanation) (the dates)

"She had the same theme February 15th and now you have nearly the same theme February 25th with the pictures and everything"

yeah, she did make that theme on February 15th (from what I saw), but now guess when I made mine 🥴 JANUARY 13TH ‼️⁉️ again, please–

(second pic is a screenshot I made that day because I always save photos of my themes) (also, every time I change my theme, I reblog it. And yes, yes, the date is still January 13th)

my third actual point 🫠 (about the pics)

if you want an explanation as to why we have the same pictures– I dunno 💀

these things happen so frequently, my dear, that at this point, it shouldn't even be a surprise (and then get into accusations) that two or more accs have the same gif/fanart/banner used, because pictures get reutilized and reposted all the time

in this case, I had the inspiration and found this fanart on a pinterest pin that I'm currently trying my best to find (edit: here), and if saelestia or any other blog had the same idea from a mf pin that went viral, that's perfectly okay

resume bc wtf 🫠 (have nothing more to say)

please (dunno how many times I've said this word), please search nicely before sending this type of messages 🥹

I'm perfectly aware this anon hasn't said anything rude and that the question was redacted with a normal tone, but I still had the necessity to make this post so long for some reason I still don't recognize

point is that as much as the pics are the same, there was no theme stolen, nor copied, nor plagiarized ��

#nectar's rambling #anon message #♡ anon #this was long asf #but still had to give a piece of my mind #if there's anything I said or demonstrated that was wrong #tell me #but as far as I know #this is how things were done #also took me 1h to write this thing #so yeah– #still woke up at 9 for once 💀 #godnectar

[cowardlybean]

your ask button is so tiny it’s so funny

anywho ask game mob psycho fucking all the questions. all of them. i didn’t even read it just answer them all i wanna know

This is gonna be a long ass post :3

the character everyone gets wrong: Tome is a speculative biology enjoyer. thats it thats the post! I also feel like Teruki is more violent than people portray him

a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom: I’mmmm not answering this (cannot decide a fav and most characters are minors lmaooo)

screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr : the worst take ever is shipping Reigen and Mob. Gross! Die.

what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?: I haven’t been here long enough to have any annoying people

worst discord server and why: not in any

which ship fans are the most annoying?: if you ship rei//mob. DIE!

what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?: i already hated Mogami (not from a narrative standpoint, i LOVE the Mogami arc its gutwrenching) but aBoT fic made me hate him even more. KILL HIM!!!

common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about: Tome is aroace i don’t make the rules (is projecting) but in all seriousness I Really prefer Mob being aroace because his relationship with Tsubomi really reflects my aromantic experience of making up a crush because that’s what I assume it’s supposed to be

worst part of canon: i love the entire show. sooo. i mean i guess its hard for me to watch Reigen on the psychic tv show bc of secondhand embarrassment kicking my ASS

worst part of fanon: sexualizing middle schoolers

number of fandom-related words you've filtered: idk but they’re all gross ships

the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them: not unpopular in the “people hate her” sense but Tome needs more attention, shes so autism and i love her role in the Reigen manga

worst blorboficiation: I haven’t been here long but I haven’t seen a lot of Dimple character study content, usually he's just there because he's always there

that one thing you see in fics all the time: autistic Mob and trans Reigen (positive)

that one thing you see in fanart all the time: older Mob being taller than Reigen which I think is silly <3

you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc): idk how popular it is but mob sympathizing with Mogami just. is not my thing

there should be more of this type of fic/art: Reigen in mogamiland, its so interesting to me

it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...: BROCCOLI ARC BODY HORROR!!!!!!!!!!! Honestly its fucking terrifying already when Mobs friends slowly convert to Dimple-ism but can you imagine. The roots creeping beneath. :3 AND ALSO Reigen having a fear of being on live tv is underrated 

you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...: not genuinely ashamed but my guilty pleasure is bashing Reigen over the head with angst

part of canon you found tedious or boring: cant think of any

part of canon you think is overhyped: also cant think of any rn

your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores: the fact that spirits have the power to brainwash without possessing people?? like Dimples two cults are. terrifying!! bc Mob couldn’t sense a spirit changing their minds bc Dimple was chilling in the broccoli

ship you've unwillingly come around to: not genuinely upset about it but I was so surprised I ended up liking yoshieku (Dimple x security guard) the bond between an evil spirit and the man he randomly possessed is incredible

topic that brings up the most rancid discourse: dunno any

common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing: also dunno any

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #cowardly speaks #i havent hung around the fandom long enough tbh its only been a couple months

[demonsfate]

h-how..why... did they crucify Xiao like??? That's so random and omg poor girl what kind of leak is that?? Also Kazuya and Jin working together lord... whoever made these "leaks" was on crack methinks

They MUST'VE been on crack. Like there's so many hilarious things about it. The blatant Christianity symbolism. Like again, yes - devils and angels have always been a part of the series, and Unknown's levels had references to "heaven" and "hell" in the real Tag 2. But... that's literally as far as the "religious symbolism" goes in the entire series. To start throwing in crosses and stuff is a bit too blatant for Tekken's tastes, I feel. Also like why is Xiao being crucified anyway? Likely to lore Jin, but WHY CRUCIFIED???

I'm guessing "Great Unknown" and "Omega Heihachi" were the ones to crucify Xiao??? Why. I dunno. Unknown looks like something you'd see back on deviantART in 2005. Also, despite the fact that the cutscene shows Kazuya and Jin teaming up, apparently Asuka is ALSO a part of this team????

Also Heihachi's final form... jesus Christ. And like, maybe three teammates would be an alright concept except -

There's screenshots of them fighting against two people???? Three against two???? And the player's the one with the advantage???? It's another thing that's just so fucking bizarre and isn't logical at all.

Also like the most illogical thing is Kazuya saying FUCK. WHEN WOULD THEY EVER SAY FUCK IN A TEKKEN GAME??? SERIOUSLY, IF KAZUYA SAYS FUCK IN TEKKEN 8 - I WOULD LITERALLY REACT LIKE THE ANGRY VIDEO GAME NERD DID.

(it says age restricted - but there's nothing bad other than the repeated use of the word "fuck" SDJFDSFJNDSF)

BUT LIKE... what amazes me so much about these "leaks" is that most leaks are usually just a picture of a fake character model/design, or a fake roster. but like??? This "leak" was SO FUCKING ELABORATE. It's like the creator of this had a whole entire fanfic thought out. I mean, to crucify xiao, all the christian symbolism, the fact that there's a FAKE CUTSCENE IN WHICH JIN, KAZUYA, AND ASUKA ALL JOIN FORCES. LIKE THIS "LEAKER" HAD A WHOLE STORY MODE PLANNED OUT AND EVERYTHING.

THEY MUST'VE BEEN SMOKING CRACK.

#✏️ - ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏsᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ // (ooc) #✏️ - ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ? // (inbox)

[antiradqueer]

Dunno if this is the right place to ask this, but I need some advice.

So there's this guy in an online writing group I was previously in that writes straight-up, really bad CSA material on AO3, and no matter how much I try to tell other people in the group what he's doing, nobody believes me or fucking does anything because "aw, you've got it all wrong, he's a great guy he's just going through some stuff, and it's not like it's real anyway."

He is not just "going through some stuff", he's a 30-something self-admitted pedophile who assaulted his own teenaged sister and almost assaulted his own child niece, and feels zero shame or guilt about any of it. I don't know who he is offline so it's not like I can contact the police, but anyone who interacts with this guy regularly and considers him harmless has a right to know he's really, really not. Which is why I'm sending you this, in the hope that you might know a way for me to get the word out about him without having to post on my own blog and have him and his friends come and harass me for "making shit up".

The only reason I even dug around and found out what he was doing is because some of the stuff he said reminded me of the man who hurt me as a child, and there's no mistaking that once you know what it sounds like. I am NOT "making shit up".

first of all, I believe you. I want to put this first.

I don't have the best advice ever, but if you know he did those things, you must have proof in some way? (/genq) screenshots, audios, etc? I'm talking about the rl assault, the AO3 content prooves itself of course.

I understand you don't want to call him out on your main blog, but maybe you could make an entirely seperate Blog (like, a seperate main, not a side blog) and post proof there?

unfortunately, depending on where you live, fictional content dealing with CP doesn't have to be explicitely illegal - I'm not from the US and Idk if you are, but just as an example, from what I understand: fictional CP is not covered by federal law in the US (feel free to correct me on this!). So, while I very much agree that what he does on AO3 is not okay, it doesn't have to be something you can hold against him legally.

but honestly, my biggest advice would be to distance yourself from him, his friends and that group entirely. sounds like a very toxic place, enabling harmful behaviour and I don't want to imagine what could happen there. stay safe anon!

for real, always remember, your own safety comes first. always. and this goes for everyone! if you feel like something is putting you in physical danger, like it takes too much of a toll on your mental health or is otherwise harmful - take care of yourself <33

#mod luna 🌙 #anti radqueer #anti transid #anti transabled #antiradqueer #anti transx