#but here i send this idea out into the world for other artists

[saintobio]

blank canvas.

problems arise when your tattoo artist boyfriend starts getting too cozy with the girls that wanted him to do more to their bodies than just inking their skin. the thing is, they knew what he wanted and they knew what you couldn’t give.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract

tags. nudity, insecure!reader, virgin!reader, dry humping, mentions of needles, mentions of cheating, slutshaming

notes. if you’ve been here for a while, yes this is a repost from an old hq fic :’D i rewrote and remodeled it for sukuna bc i feel like he fits this au!

part 2 | part 3

Sukuna had seen it all.

He wasn’t dumb and he most definitely wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he was attractive, bringing him a clientele of adoring women who would frequently visit his tattoo parlor. Who could blame them? He was handsome, had a good physique, and an overwhelming aura that pulled the attraction of many women, single or not, who were desperate to vie for his attention. His tattoos and his dyed hair even added to the overall bad boy persona that he had which, to be fair, was a girl’s guilty pleasure. 

The women were very assertive, it seemed, to try and lure Sukuna into their little seduction game. Was he getting tempted into it? No. He was loyal and he’d like to stay loyal to his kind and beautiful girlfriend. After all, winning you over wasn’t as easy as it would with any other girl. 

However, there were certain moments that almost tested his loyalty to you, especially when some of the women would ask to have their tattoos done on the most intimate places of their bodies. 

Take yesterday as an example: one girl asked to have a tattoo on her buttocks and she was certainly more satisfied at the feeling of Sukuna’s palms on her bum rather than the actual tattoo she was getting. And to top it all, she bluntly asked if he offered more service rather than just giving tattoos. Crazy. 

He had previously mentioned it to you that as part of his job, he was obligated to give his clients the tattoos they requested, regardless of where on their bodies they wanted them. It was strictly business. Ironically, despite dating a tattoo artist like himself, you had no single trace of inked art on your body. You were an untouched canvas that had never been painted on. Still, Sukuna respected your choice and he surely respected your boundaries even more. 

He knew that you had always been a gentle girl when he first met you at the floral shop across the street. You were always prim and proper, always dressed modestly, always following the rules, and always doing the right thing. All you cared about doing was to express your love through the delicate petals you arranged in your flower-scented haven. You were happy to be in your own little bubble, content in the company of fragrant blossoms and soft-spoken solitude. Introverted. Reserved. Pure. Unassuming. He was the exception to your goody-two-shoes nature, because he ended up winning your heart despite being the complete opposite of you. It wasn’t an easy task, either. Deciding to get to know you was on a whim at first, since he was intrigued about your simple joys in life and how you weren’t the type of girls that would visit his tattoo parlor. Something about your demure nature pulled him in until he realized that there was nothing else he wanted in this world but to make you his. He began by greeting you every morning from across the street, then giving you the same bouquet of flowers he purchased from your shop, followed by sending you texts complimenting how beautiful you looked as he watched you from his store, and finally asking you out on spontaneous dates.

It may be a bit peculiar to see the two of you together, but Sukuna pursued you because liked you. He was undeniably in love with you. He liked your smile, liked how cute and adorable you were, and liked how a simple look at you made him want to be a better man. He loved the idea of being with a girl he could protect. 

The main issue was, Sukuna dropped out of college and just decided to open a tattoo parlor business because he simply didn’t want to waste his years studying for something that he wasn’t passionate about. But that was the source of your parents’ distaste. They told you that you had no future with a guy like him. They said that they would disown you as a daughter if you decided to choose him. They called him dirty, rebellious, and uneducated. 

At that point, he thought that you would leave him after learning his rather reckless choices in life, but you stayed. 

You left your parents' home and stayed with him.

And he was grateful that you did. 

So to ask the question again, would he ever do something to betray you after everything that happened between you two? Of course, not. Not in a million years, no

But then again, he was also just doing his job and it wasn’t like he was purposely flirting with the girls that often flocked him during work hours. He was simply accommodating a client. Nothing more, nothing less. 

And on one of those typical days, he had to work overtime when one of his returning clients asked for her fifth tattoo to be done by him. He just finished picking up the tools he needed as she walked towards the recliner seat asking, “Should I sit here?” 

He nodded once, turning around to face the girl who looked at him with her alluring eyes. “Yeah, just let me know when you’re ready.” 

Oh yes, she was surely ready. She even had a smirk displayed on her face when she slowly unbuttoned her shirt, keeping her gaze at him while teasingly revealing her busty pair. 

He didn’t really pay attention to the size of her tits but instead, just casually pointed to a certain part of her body, “Is this where you want it?” he asked, referring to the lower left part of her breast.

With a very flirtatious grin, she nodded, clearly knowing that her assets were her biggest weapon. “Yes. Would it be easier if I took off my bra, yeah?” 

“You don’t have to. I can work it out,” he casually responded, reaching for his glove and busying himself with all the tool preparations. 

The girl let out a silent giggle along with her best friend who sat on the side, waiting for her turn. Waiting to be the recipient of Sukuna’s full attention. Sigh. 

“No, I can take it off for you,” the girl insisted, unclasping her bra and setting her huge breasts free for him to ogle at. They were perfectly round, probably a 40D, and a light pink shade for her nipples. With how firm they were sitting on her chests, she had probably gotten them done.  

He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he asked her to sit on the recliner chair. Sukuna had seen women half naked in his shop before, but this was the first time someone willingly got naked in front of him, most especially with other intentions rather than to simply get a tattoo. 

Because of the awkwardness, he went ahead and blasted some heavy metal music to distract his mind. He had to think of something else and not stare at the girl’s luscious tits. He had to shift his mind to somewhere else like, for example, why the girl chose a calligraphy of the words ‘la douleur exquise’ on her skin this time.

“Is this French?” he nonchalantly asked, motioning for her to rest her back while he wiped the chosen area with a damp cotton pad. He specifically avoided brushing his hand on her breast, but it looked like the girl was actually angling herself to make him touch it more. 

“It means exquisite pain,” she purred, batting her thick eyelashes at him. 

His lips formed a smirk, impressed at how much of a skank she was willing to be for him. It wasn’t new, as established before. He’d also had a fair share of women who tried to get into his pants last week, but none of them were successful. He actually found it entertaining to watch them do all sorts of stunts to make him give in. To make him submit himself to his carnal desires. He was a man after all. He had needs, he had to get some form of release, otherwise it could pose a problem in his masculinity. 

All while she was getting her tattoo done, the other girl got up from her seat to walk closer to her best friend. Sukuna decided to refer to them in his head as Slut 1 and Slut 2 because he had no intentions of knowing their names. He knew slut-shaming was terrible, but he never said he was a man of virtue and truthfully, how else could he describe them? 

“Hey, Sukuna,” the other girl called, sitting at an empty stool with a smile. “You’re single, right?” 

He kept his eyes focused on the skin he was inking on. “...No.” 

Even from the corner of his eye, he knew that both girls looked surprised, “No way? You have a girlfriend?” 

Was it really that much of a shock? 

“Yeah, she owns the floral shop across the street,” he mumbled, wiping the trace of blood on the girl’s skin after he finished another letter. 

There was a visible pout on Slut 1’s face as if learning that Sukuna had a girlfriend was more painful than the needle pricking at her skin. “So, what’s she like?” 

Sukuna thought for a while because he didn’t know where to begin. It was too much of a long story for them to hear about. You were everything he wanted in a woman and that was all he knew. “She’s cute and kind.” 

His words earned a giggle from Slut 2. “Is she like the good girl type?” 

“She is.” He figured it would be okay to converse about you like this. Besides, he would rather be talking about you than to have these girls just try to flirt with him relentlessly. 

“How much of a good girl, though?” Slut 1 egged on, “I bet she’s a virgin and a prude.” 

That was obviously none of their business, but damn. They hit a nerve that they shouldn’t have. No one else had managed to bring up a topic like that to him, more so a topic that he himself knew not to cross. His sex life wasn’t as fruitful as anyone thought so, yet not once in his life did he complain. Not once did he talk about it to anyone. Not once did he tell anyone that he had been dating you for a year now and you two never really went further than making out. 

“I respect her,” was his answer, much to the two girls’ dismay.

“That’s kinda boring, though,” the other girl claimed, draping her arm around his shoulder before leaning close to his ear. “You’re still a man and you have needs. If I were her, I’d sleep with you every day. In every position.” 

The girl on the recliner chair grinned. “Totally! Like, you’re so hot and I feel like you’re good in bed.” 

Fuck. 

He almost messed up one of the letters because his mind just flew to somewhere unforgivable. It was a sin to even think about, but shit, he definitely missed the feeling of fucking someone. He couldn’t even remember the last time he did so. 

“Sukuna?” 

He snapped out of his trance and looked up upon hearing the familiar voice, only to find you by the door, your eyes filled with hurt.

“Hey—” 

Your voice was caught in your throat as you avoided his gaze. “I just... I thought you were done.” 

In a swift motion, you hurriedly walked out of the room before dashing out the door. You didn’t even bother to look back, dead set on leaving him alone with the girls. Your footsteps were far too quick to even catch and he was hoping that you would at least slow down. 

“Babe!” he called, unable to chase after you as you shut the door. An exasperated sigh followed. 

This was going to be a big problem 

Just what was he thinking? 

He had a half naked girl in front of him and another girl clinging to him like he didn’t have a girlfriend. It must have hurt you a lot. No, it definitely wrecked you.

“Uh-oh...” the girl mocked. “I can sense trouble” 

He decided to leave it be for now and get his job done as soon as possible, even thinking of banning the two girls from going into his shop just to avoid further trouble. He had a lot of explaining to do and he couldn’t wait to go home to make sure that you would listen to him, not overthink the whole thing and place your assumptions because hurting you was the last thing he would do.

At least, he hoped you knew that.   

You were washing the dishes when Sukuna came home and the first thing he did was to wrap his arms around you. He had your waist caged in his tight embrace, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispered sweet nothings to you. To be real, you weren’t in the mood to see his face after what you saw this afternoon. You get it—he was exposed to all sorts of people with his line of work and most of them probably couldn’t just ignore his physical appearance. You were aware that some girls were only getting a tattoo to get close to him. Heck, you were aware that they all wanted to be with him.

But the only reason you were hurt wasn’t because he was desired by women, but because those very same women were all better than you in more ways than one. They fit his type more than you did and you were sure that they could give him exactly what he wanted. 

Still, it awfully tugged at your heartstrings. 

He was yours, not theirs. You had the right to be jealous when a girl was getting cozy with your man, but to see him letting them have their way? That was a different story. 

“Baby, talk to me,” he mumbled, planting a soft, apologetic kiss on your neck. 

You gave him the silent treatment as you walked away and dried your hands with a towel. What else would you say? He should already be aware of why you were acting that way. He should be the one to try and talk to you, not the other way around. And with your stubborn mind, you did your best to keep your insouciance, pulling his tattooed arms off of you and heading towards the couch. 

You could hear his sigh as he followed you, but you were determined to keep your eyes glued on the TV screen. If he wanted to talk, he should do the talking, you reminded yourself over and over. 

“You’re really pissed at me, huh,” he spoke as soon as he sat next to you, a hand carefully placed on your thigh. “I’m sorry.” 

“They’re pretty hot, aren’t they?” The bitter question left your mouth before you thought of holding back. 

He scooted closer and hooked an arm around your shoulder this time. “Definitely nowhere near as hot as my girlfriend.” 

What a load of… You rolled your eyes, remembering how the girls looked and how comfortable he was with them. “Yeah, right.” 

You couldn’t explain the tightness on your chest every time you recalled the scene earlier because you knew, you just knew, that there was more that could have happened if you didn’t check on him. You saw it in his eyes, even for a split second, that he almost gave in to temptation. How could he not? You were a prude just as they described—just because you didn’t have any sexual experience like they did. Perhaps when they called you boring, they were right and Sukuna wanted to agree. 

He couldn’t be stuck with a girlfriend that he couldn’t even have sex with, could he? 

“I shouldn’t have let them put their hands on me like that,” he admitted, showing his dire attempt to look apologetic. “Only you can.” 

You took a deep breath and shook your head. “I don’t even know why you’re still with me, Sukuna. I put so many boundaries between us. Don’t you get tired of me?” 

“Fuck no,” he quickly answered, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Never. You’re the only one for me.” 

Truth be told, you did feel bad that he couldn’t fully experience you as a girlfriend, but he had been very patient and respectful towards you. He never crossed the line and never forced you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He said he was doing that because you never gave up on him even when you had the choice to. He said that you were worth waiting for. He said that he was satisfied with what you two already had.

Maybe you could let this one incident go, after all, he was never really a bad boyfriend to you. Sure, he looked like a bad boy, but when it came to you, he was surprisingly soft. 

“Okay,” you muttered, sighing in defeat and finally meeting his eyes. “Just don’t do it again. I don’t care if they get naked in front of you. Please set some boundaries and don’t entertain them too much or you’ll give off the wrong impression.” 

Your leniency earned a smile from him, delighted to earn your trust again so he made an effort to peck your lips. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“You’re annoying.” 

“You love me.” 

“I do,” you professed, placing a hand on his cheek, “so much.” 

Pleased with your words, he leaned in again to give you a much, much deeper kiss. He knew it was all he could do with you, but he wanted to make you feel that his kisses were satisfying enough for the both of you. Just with the way he moved his lips against yours and how your tongue rolled around his—it was almost impossible to breathe at one point, but he softened the kiss to allow yourself to catch some air. 

Gosh, you were jealous again. You were becoming annoyed as your mind ran at full speed, thinking of how those girls thought they could put their hands on your man. You were livid at how they tried to steal him from you. 

“You’re mine, right?” you asked for reassurance, pulling away to look at his dominating eyes. 

The smirk on his lips was replaced by a cheeky grin. “All yours, darling.” 

You didn’t know what gave you the sudden confidence to straddle his lap after he said that, but it just felt right. You wanted more of his physical affection and felt like you couldn’t get enough. Both of you were taken aback, obviously, because this wasn’t something you would normally do, and so the heat on your cheeks was mixing with the surprised look on his face. You were sitting directly on his crotch and he was having a hard time to control himself. 

“Babe,” he breathed on your neck. “You don’t have to force yourself.” 

He was right, but the thought of the other girls constantly seducing him behind your back just gave way to your deepest insecurities. You didn’t have the most perfect body in the world and you most definitely didn’t have the skills in bed that he expected—you were scared that you might lose him because of these facts. Or that he would find someone better, even at the cost of having them on the side. 

“Hey,” he spoke again, making you look at his eyes as you relaxed into his touch. “It’s fine. If you want it, I can be gentle. We can go slow.” 

“I-I don’t know... I just,” you hesitated, not knowing exactly how to put it into words. 

You didn’t know why sex intimidated you. It should be as easy as 1-2-3,  just him putting his member inside you, right? But you weren’t really scared of doing the act itself, you were scared that once you did it, he would leave you because he already got what he wanted. Losing it to the wrong person sounds like a nightmare and that was why you were having trouble coming into terms of losing your virginity before marriage. 

You could feel the hardness on his crotch pressing against your core and you didn’t expect a moan escaping your lips when you moved at the slightest. The fabric of your shorts were thin enough for you to feel the outline of his hardened member, displaying a prominent bulge on his sweatpants. You haven’t seen how big he was, but you could tell just by looking at his bulge that he was huge. Could you even take that? 

He held your waist and guided you to move again, this time urging you to move your hips back and forth, allowing you to feel the friction from his hard erection. Lust was clouding his eyes and it made you feel weak. 

“How does it feel?” he asked, his hot breath tickling your ear. 

You continued grinding on him with your lips parted, releasing your silent moans, “G-Good.”

He leaned forward to kiss your neck, eventually sucking the soft skin to leave his beautiful marks. “I wanna eat you down there, baby,” he growls under his breath, squeezing your right breast, “You’re gonna taste so good, I bet.” 

“Suku—” you whined, gripping his hair while he started matching your movements with his own. It was a foreign feeling for you to feel his bulge rubbing against your untouched core. 

“Fuck,” he cussed in a low voice, squeezing your ass with his huge hands in growing excitement. “Let me get a condom.” 

This was it. 

It was happening. 

Or was it?

Your eyes widened in panic as you pushed him back onto the couch. It was as though all of your senses were awakened and your body was telling you that you shouldn’t be doing all this. “N-No, I... I’m not ready.” 

You didn’t mean to always chicken out when you two were almost about to do it. You just didn’t feel confident enough to give yourself yet and even if you badly wanted to, you just couldn’t make yourself do it.

You could see the hint of disappointment on his face and he was trying to hide it. 

“Right,” he exhaled deeply with his head thrown back on the headrest. “It’s alright. Maybe next time,” he convinced himself. 

“I’m sorry,” you softly mumbled, hand gripping on his shirt. 

He gave you a quick peck on the lips before pulling you out of his lap and getting up from the couch. “Yeah, yeah. It’s fine.” 

You stayed seated as you watched him walk away. “Where are you going?” 

“I have to finish this off on my own,” he answered without looking back. You realized he was referring to the act of touching himself because you just couldn’t do the job for him. It was obvious how frustrated he was and for goodness sake, you did feel guilty, but then again, he didn’t act like this before. When you told him you didn’t want to do it further, he would simply laugh it off and say he would wait for you. 

This wasn’t the same Sukuna that said that. 

You became a little paranoid. 

Considering that girls would still pay your boyfriend a visit at the tattoo parlor, you always ended up overthinking about what he was doing while you were supposed to be busy at the floral shop. In the middle of arranging a bouquet of beautiful peonies, your mind was on haywire. You just didn’t feel at ease. You felt like anyone could easily snatch him away from you because you weren’t particularly a striking girl to begin with. You were leaning on the simple, conservative side rather than the rebellious, liberated women that swarmed his shop in hopes of sleeping with him. 

Because your thoughts were eating you alive, you decided to head to his tattoo parlor after closing the shop to make sure that he wasn’t doing any funny business. 

And you were somehow right. 

About three girls were in there this time, two of which you had already seen a couple of days ago, and they were already leaving the parlor just as you arrived. 

“You’re really amazing, Sukuna,” one of the girls told him in gratitude, “I might get another one soon.” 

You watched them walk past you with a smug expression on their faces as they left the shop. Sukuna had then seen you standing by the door with your arms crossed. 

“Really?” you questioned, walking inside with a frown. “They’re here again?” 

He sighed and walked back to his station while cleaning the mess from the tattoo session. He wasn’t even trying to win you over anymore. “I can’t just ask them not to come anymore. They’re still clients.”

“Let me guess,” you continued, “Did one of them get naked in front of you again? Did you let them put their hands all over you again? Did you perhaps forget that you had a girlfriend again?” 

His brows, now furrowed in annoyance and his mouth, thinning in displeasure. “No. We talked about this.” 

You held your breath, raising a brow in return. “I’m starting to think you’re doing more for them than just giving them tattoos.” 

“Like, what? Sell my body?” His question was clearly a taunt. A spasm of irritation crossed his face, but he still managed to display a mocking smile. “Is that what you’re suggesting, angel?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Then, what?” 

“You know what I mean,” you replied, trying to get your point across while keeping your composure. “You’re an attractive man and they’re the type of women you would willingly sleep with.” 

“Jesus. You’re so insecure, it’s crazy,” he retorted, rolling his eyes at you. 

Insecure? You couldn’t believe, just couldn’t believe he called you insecure. The air crackled with tension as your jaw tightened, muscles twitching with every suppressed urge to lash out.

“I wonder why!” Your voice rose hysterically. “If you weren’t busy flirting with those girls, maybe I won’t be so insecure.” 

“I said I’m not flirting with them!” he argued, slamming his gloves on the floor. His face contorted into a mask of rage and he looked at you with frustration that you had never seen before. It hurt. It certainly hurt. He had been acting distant since the night you didn’t give in to him and you knew that his exasperation towards you was rooting from that. 

Your breathing became unsteady. “But you know you’d sleep with them if given the chance. Since I couldn’t do it with you.” 

“Then, just fucking do it with me instead of bitching about it every day!” he snapped, voice thick with insinuation. “I don’t wanna be stuck acting like I give two shits about your interest in flowers and whatever nonsense you like to talk about. I wanna be with someone I can have sex with, not sit on the couch all day with a boring person like you!” 

His hurtful words left you frozen like a statue, unable to move while being dominated by the shooting pain inside your chest. 

You knew this day would come—that he would eventually get tired of waiting around for something that he could easily get from others. However, what hurt you most was the fact you believed he wasn’t that type of guy. That he wasn’t with you solely for what you could give, but rather, for what you just had. You thought he sincerely understood your boundaries and respected your choices the very same way you respected his, but it seemed that he had another thought in his head all along. 

After seeing the look on your face, Sukuna had softened his gaze and walked closer to you in reproach to his words and actions, “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean that.” 

A tear fell from your eye as you looked at him with both anger and pain building inside of you. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You wanna have sex? Is that what you want?” Your voice cracked in the middle of your sentence. “You wanna do it so bad, let’s fucking do it, then!” 

Your fingers forced their way to spitefully unbutton your blouse despite his desperate efforts to stop you. You must be going crazy. But also, he drove you to this point. 

“Baby, no,” he said in remorse, grabbing your wrists tightly. “No, I’m sorry. I’m content with you. I really am, I’m sorry. Please.” 

Your chest heaved as you cried, unable to stop your emotions from exposing all of your vulnerabilities. “It’s obviously not enough for you.” Your voice quivered, each word a fragile whisper trembling with the weight of unspoken sadness as you sniffled and wiped your eyes. “You knew what kinda girl I am when you dated me.”

He pulled you for a hug and kissed your temple way too many times that you lost count. He felt absolutely sorry for ever hurting you with his words, but they just hit you so painfully to the point that your gaze grew distant and your face was clouded with resignation. 

“I know what kinda girl you are and I’m in love with you for it,” he reaffirmed, as if trying to get it through your head but his words were beginning to feel empty. “Please, believe me. I really didn’t mean what I said. You’re enough for me, baby. You’re all I want.” 

You didn’t feel comfort from his words, but you still returned his embrace because you loved him. Because you knew, even if he said more hurtful words, that you would still love him. Sure, you would be angry, but your love for him ruled higher than your pride. 

You were just scared of losing him over something like this. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered in your ear before placing a soft, apologetic kiss on your lips. 

When he pulled away, your heart still felt heavy, but you managed to conceal your face with an agonizing smile. 

“I love you, too.” 

He ran his thumb across your cheek and held your waist on his other hand. You just couldn’t get his words out of your head even after he apologized, because you never knew he was seeing your relationship that way all along. 

The girls were right. He was a man after all and he had needs. 

The fact that he was staying with you despite not fulfilling his needs must be a work of charity for him, and eventually, he would get sick of waiting around. He would desire you less and less the more the days passed by and it wasn’t absolutely crazy to think that he could potentially meet another girl he liked that was willing to give it all. 

The mere thought of it scared you. 

“I’ll do it with you tonight,” you offered, your voice breaking, hoping that you could finally break the barrier and be enough for him. 

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna angst #jjk x reader

[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

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Spidersonas are the perfect exercise and I recommend everyone try -

Quick-Spidersona Exercises

How I use new Spidersonas as Artistic Practice

[A MEDIUM length post where I share ideas and exercises to create Spidersonas quicker and easier, while practicing your writing/art]

Spidersonas can be a great tool for any artist!

If you're a writer looking for a way to get better at character creation, research, and world-building - Or an artist looking for a way to get better at character design:

Consider trying out Quick Spidersona exercises as a fun way to do that! I use them all the time, because seriously, who says you can only have ONE Spidersona?

(I think I have at least 15-20 now - counting the eight named kids I gave Miguel & Moche)

I usual end up making at least one a week - and I find they're amazing for learning how to make characters quickly and in a really fun way.

Everything can be canon in the Spider-verse, including a sentient piece of Lego-Plastic and a Pre-historic Spider-saur.

Plus, with the Spider-Society being full formed, and canon events at your choosing, you have a loose template for a background - making it easier to throw them into the story.

I use a couple different exercises on making Fast-Sonas, and I thought I'd share some.

Here's a couple of my favorites! If you find this helpful, let me know!

1 - Hour Sona Challenge

Ever have a half-baked Spidersona Idea or come up with a funny crack Spider?

Give yourself an hour (or two) and go at it.

[This challenge is good for quick practice, Character Creation & Design]

Design them a suit as quick as you can, coming up with abilities and a rough personality.

You don't need to go into backstory if you don't feel like it, and it's a great way to get started

This is something you can do routinely - I do, I usually do this once or twice a week; And soon you'll have a full cast of sonas that can interact with each other!

It's great practice, and the more you do it, the easier it gets.

When you're doing it on the fly, or know it's just one hour - it can produce characters that are more natural, because you don't have time to second guess. Plus, since it's only an hour, you can get as silly as you want!

Stoner-Spider is an example of a 2-hour Sona Challenge.

Adapt-A-Spider

This challenge is good for Character Design

Make your own cross over!

For something a bit easier - Take a Non-Spider character and make them a Spider-person.

This could be anyone, from other Marvel characters, to Disney Princesses, Celebrities, and characters from your other fandoms. You can even make some of your old OCs into Spider-people!

For Artists - this can be a real fun challenge - try and blend the characters original outfit and design into a suit suitable for swinging.

For Writers - try to adapt their current background, and shift it around so they have 'canon events'. If the character you like has lost someone, the person they lost could stand in for their Uncle Ben or Aunt May.

Example: If you're looking to adapt Ellie from The Last of Us, losing Joel could be her Uncle Ben canon event.

This works for every character (basically). What if Black Widow ACTUALLY got bit by a black widow? Now Nat Romanoff is on campus. (Every Peter thinks she's an MJ cause the red hair at first).

No matter how ridiculous, you can stretch it. In Spiderverse, everyone is Canon.

If they can write a SpiderCar - you can write ANYTHING.

Some ideas are:

Celebrities, Animals (like SpiderCat or the Dinosaur), Princesses, Greek Gods, Historical Figures, Fandom Characters,

Mundane Spider

This challenge is good for: Character Building & Design

Not everyone is extraordinary. SOMEONE has to flip those McMiguel burgers goddamn it.

If making a huge story and traumatic canon events send daunting - just... Don't do it. Challenge yourself to make a Spidersona that's literally just a person.

Like a Target employee who got bit by a spider that came out a shipment. And now they have to work at the Society AND target. They wear the Target polo over their suit.

Pick a normal type of person, and challenge yourself to make them super.

Maybe a stay at home mom that got bit by a house spider, or a college student that got bit at the library. Any one could be a Spider-person! So don't worry that they're 'boring'.

Ideas for this:

A person based on your town/city, Random Professions, Teachers, Therapists, People based on hobbies you like to do (ex: Margo is eSports. SpiderCanada is hockey based),

History Spider

[This is good for Research]

History Buffs WHERE U AT?????

If you love a period of history - GO ALL IN.

Take the SpiderNoir and Hobie route.

If your Spidersona was from Ancient Egypt, what would they wear? If you really like the Medieval Era, would their city want to burn them at the stake?

For Artists - What would they wear? And how would the fashion trends of their time period effect their suits?

For Writers - What would be their real name, if it were time period accurate? How would they act and speak? Consider how they would adjust to things like 2099, and how their time period would effect their fighting style.

Culture Spider

If you're from a interesting culture or place, make a Sona for that!

[This is another great one for Research, as well as Character Design too]

I've seen it all, from my own IncaSpider, to Korean Spider-people and Romanian Spider-people.

For Artists - It's REALLY fun adapting traditional dress and colors into a Spider-suit, and you may even find yourself falling down a research hole.

For Writers - This can go DEEP. You can pick any time period of your culture and home. Things like their accent, their behaviors and traditions, and their backstory can all be reflections of your culture.

With HUNDREDS of years is material to pull from, using Culture as a back drop for a Spider can help them seem deep and natural. Plus, you can just Google clothing and use that as suit inspo

Ben Reilly - Mary Sue Spider

Arguably my FAVORITE. Not for the faint of heart.

[This is the best for everything - Literal SELF CARE I MEAN THAT]

BE CRINGE. DO IT ON PURPOSE.

Write a character that's super strong and effortless about it. Pavi is. And he's still a great character.

Write a character who ALWAYS looks kick ass and rides a cool motorcycle or plays a rad guitar - Jess and Hobie are literally THAT.

Want your character to be big and super smart with deep trauma that haunts them? - Ben Reilly and Miguel. The three of them can be a trio.

Challenge yourself to make the COOLEST MOST FLAWLESS DRAMATIC SONA YOU CAN.

Every time you draw something or write something that makes you cringe, or feels to OP or too much.

Good. Leave it in. Turn it up to 11.

Go all out. Draw your Instagram dream outfit. If you want your Sona in 12 inch heels - have at it!

'Oh but that's impractical and stup-'

They're literally a Super-Human. If Gwen can catch a helicopter like that, I think a Spidersona can manage stripper heels or Final Fantasy Hair.

What's the worst that can happen? You're doing it on purpose.

At the best, you'll make someone REALLY REALLY rad - like Hobie.

At the least, you'll make someone REALLY REALLY funny - like Ben Reilly.

Disco-Spider Diane is an example of this. She was probably supposed to be a completely self-indulgent, unhinged Sona.

So much so that she thinks she's perfect, even though she's a little bit naive, lazy, and in her own world. But because she doesn't care.. it's all good :)

No Logic Whatsoever Spider

[This one is just funny. Great one for Character Design and getting out of your comfort zone.]

Spider-Ham, Spider-Car, Spider Cat, LegoSpider, Spiderplush and SpiderPopsicle all have a club. The No Logic Whatsoever Club.

Challenge yourself to make a new member.

Break all the laws of logic. If something can be Spiderman, then it is or duty to make it so.

What's your favorite animal? Make that.

Can they put on the suit themselves? No? Who cares they're a Spiderperson-thing now.

Is there a funny art style you like - make a Bendy's style 1930's black and white silent cartoon.

For Artists - This is a great one. It can be as simple as drawing Spider-man merch and making it sentient. Or as bizarre as drawing a Dinosaur in a Spider-man costume.

For Writers - HARD MODE. For pure crack fanatics. Enjoy trying to make logic of this. Or don't. They are what they are.

----------------------------

So here are just some exercises and ideas for those looking to strengthen their writing/art skills with Spidersonas.

They can be really quick to make, and you can always build on them over time, do a '1hr Sona Update' Challenge, run them through canon events and see them change.

Having multiple spidersonas can be fun, make writing easier, and it's great practice that translates everywhere - into world building, character design, research, and a lot of other creative skills.

Literally theres no need for just one! The Spiderverse is open to any Sona, no matter how bizarre, mundane, or self-indulgent!!

If this gave you and ideas or inspiration, let me know. If you try a challenge, I'd love to see too!

And as per usual if you've read this far: Here take this as a token of my gratitude

Go forth, create, and kill cringe with your bare hands. Smash it into a moving train. That usually does the trick.

Bye.

#got a couple asks about writing advice lately so I wanted to start here first hi hello :) #nooo proofread lol #spiderman #spider man #atsv #across the spiderverse #spidersonas #spidersona #ocs #spiderman oc #writing practice #marvel #across the spider verse #spider society #spiderman atsv

[slvt4felix]

Inspired by the Masters

Pairing -> Artist!Hyunjin x reader WC -> ~ 2,400 words Includes -> maybe fem!reader considering they do wear a skirt but gender isn't really mentioned, strangers to friends (to lovers in the future), fluff, meet-cute Summary -> Your local art museum was your home away from home. Your favorite place to go and you can't help but visit when you need inspiration for a new art project. With a sketchbook in one hand and your backpack in the other, you enter the elegant building not expecting anything more than to admire the artwork. However, you soon find yourself admiring something else, or perhaps someone else... Author's note -> Lets just pretend that this isn't entirely self indulgent and written pretty much for my enjoyment. But I hope you manage to enjoy anyway! Thanks for reading! ♡ Masterlist ♡

You push open the heavy door, light nearly blinding your eyes as you walk back into the fresh air. It's one of the rougher days of the week. You just got out of one of your many stem classes, and are exhausted.

You're a junior in college, excited to take on the world, but first, you need to get through the education part of life. And let's just say it isn't easy. The building behind you is one of the many science buildings at your university. Although you despise the boring lectures held there, you can't help but admire the architecture. Your university was built a long time ago, and you feel beyond lucky to have gotten accepted here. You hadn't realized until late in your high school career what exactly you wanted to do with your life or if you even wanted to go to college at all. But ultimately, you decided on psychology. But upon starting school, you realized something was missing. That's when you enrolled in an art minor. It's been one of your obsessions since you were young. You had never even considered adding it to your schooling until the idea had been placed in your head by your high school art teacher. You had quickly gotten in touch with your advisors and changed your major. It just wasn't like you to not have anything creative on your schedule.

But today was one of your unlucky days. It was pure science labs and lectures all day long. It was now midafternoon, and there was some time to kill before your last class of the day.

Your first thought would, typically, be to head back to your dorm. It is shared between you, your high school best friend and two other people you met last year. Despite the fun times you have there, it was the last place you wanted to be today. Your roommates have been constantly arguing against each other, and you need some quiet time, especially after the grueling day you had.

You step away from the antique building to a bench next to the sidewalk a few feet away. Sitting down, you pull your phone from your pocket, unsurprised to see no messages. You haven't made many friends yet, but it's not all that shocking due to your reserved personality. Nonetheless, you open your messages, sending a quick text letting your best friend know you won't be home until later.

You put your phone away again, hands rubbing against your skirt, hoping to regain warmth. The heat in your class doesn't work well and, unfortunately, the heat from summer has faded. Reminiscent only in the nearly bare trees and brown leaves blowing in the soft wind.

Slipping your headphones back over your ears, you stand up and start the short walk to what's practically your home away from home. It's your favorite place to go, especially when seeking refuge from the chaos within your life. There's even a little cafe to get snacks or study in. Not to mention how beautiful it is. You can't help but be drawn to the beauty of it as an artist.

You walk up the glossy white stairs, excited to see the art within. Luckily, you get into your city's art museum for free. Upon walking in, your jaw nearly falls open like it always does. The beautiful cream walls and intricate paintings on the ceiling. You stop at each and every sculpture on the way in, eagerly reading about the pieces. You can never learn enough from the masters, and luckily enough for you, art is your favorite thing to study. Yes, it was your minor, but it was also your favorite hobby.

Strolling through the cool halls, you start to search for a painting to sketch out. With an upcoming art assignment due next week, you need to find inspiration and fast. You have been in a bit of an art slump for a few weeks now which is really hard when it's a quarter of your schooling. Hopefully recreating some beautiful paintings will be able to help you get back into your groove.

You walk into a well-lit room and are shocked to see new artwork mounted to the walls. They must have changed this room out recently; maybe it was a new exhibit. The thought excites you, your feet instantly shuffling closer to get a better look.

After taking a quick glance at some of the descriptions, you begin to realize it's an exhibit containing all local artists, the artwork absolutely gorgeous.

However, you were instantly drawn to a painting just about in the center of the long wall. The blood-red roses were noticeable from all the way across the room. As you get closer, you notice it's a stunning oil painting, the flowers depicted with heavy, but thoughtful, brush strokes. It was full of stark highlights and shadows, a delicate crystal vase holding the roses up. You can't help, but be in awe of the artist's talent. For the first time in a while, you don't feel reluctant to draw.

Thankfully there's a bench directly across from the artwork. You take a seat, smoothening your skirt. You set your backpack down beside you, reaching inside and retrieving your sketchbook. The inside contains various things. From journals to notes for your psychology classes, to actual drawings, the notebook is nearly filled to the brim. It may seem random, but the small notebook was essential for you.

Taking your pencil out from your bag, you start on the sketch. You'll have to be quick since you only have about an hour before class. Hopefully, you won't lose track of time.

You slowly get absorbed in the drawing. Beginning with the roses and making your way down, adding emphasis to the dark shadows. You barely notice as another person walks up to admire the art. But it's hard to stay concentrated after you first glance up.

A young man is standing off to the side, looking at the same painting. His jet black hair is slicked back slightly with gel, leaving a couple framing pieces in the front. He was dressed oddly nice, immediately drawing your attention. Although it was an art museum and people do tend to dress up more, you're starting to see fewer people make that effort. So it's interesting to see the man dressed in a designer black suit. You know it's rude to stare, but you simply cannot look away. Some people just draw attention like that.

He starts to turn around and you quickly look back down into your lap where your abandoned sketch sits. It was going well, but now looking back on it, something is off, you're just not sure what. You notice movement next to you and glance back up to see the man taking a seat next to you.

The two of you make eye contact and he smiles kindly, sending butterflies into your stomach. You return the smile before returning to your drawing. You gingerly trace over some of the lines of the roses trying to figure out what could be the issue.

"Beautiful painting, isn't it?" you say trying to keep the air from turning awkward. He simply hums a bit, with a small smirk appearing on his face. He glances down at your notebook and his eyes widen a bit.

"Your sketch is just as amazing," he says with his eyebrow quirking up. The compliment instantly makes blood rush to your cheeks. You can't help but notice how attractive the man is.

"Thank you," you reply, genuinely. You don't really show your art off to anyone so you take any and all compliments.

"It's not much so far, but it was just something to help pass the time," you explain, hoping he won't judge it too harshly. You shake your head slightly, annoyed at how strangely eager you are to please this random stranger.

He nods back in understanding giving you the idea that maybe he’s done similar things before. The two of you sit in silence after your bit of conversation. Somehow, it’s surprisingly not awkward. It's obvious that he’s simply enjoying the peace and seems to like watching you draw. You’ve never really minded having people watch you in your hobby. Despite the few nerves it adds, you feel proud when people like to see what you’re working on.

You sigh quietly, annoyed that the problem with your drawing is not going away.

"Something feels off, but I can't seem to figure it out," you admit to him in defeat. He nods and you watch as his eyes scan over your drawing. He leans a little closer, trying to get a better look and almost loses his balance for a second. It's endearing to see the confident man lose his composure even for even just a second. You lightly grip his shoulder steadying him with a soft giggle.

"Sorry, I just-," he starts a little flustered, "can I?" You're a little confused at first about what he is actually asking you and his eyes staring directly back at yours isn't doing much to help your comprehension skills. You can see him start to get a little nervous when you don't answer right away, his hands fiddling with his sleeves. His eyes dart down to your notebook, and a light bulb goes off in your head. You smile, a little embarrassed, and hand him your sketch.

"Yeah, of course," you respond. It was you who asked for help in the first place, so it would be silly for you to mind letting him see your drawing. He takes it from your hands carefully. He can tell how much it means to you from how tight your grip has been on the notebook since he came to see the painting.

"Oh I see," he exclaims, excited to have found the issue, "May I?" You are surprised when he turns to you with the question, his eyes shining eagerly in the bright lights of the museum. His hand reaches for your pencil and you instantly go to hand it to him. Your hand slightly grazes his as you release the pencil, making your heart flutter. He smiles in thanks and goes back to analyze your sketch while his other hand reaches up, rubbing the back of his neck.

'Oh my god,' you think, hoping he doesn't realize you are panicking internally. You glance away, trying to calm yourself down. You would hate to look like an idiot.

The man notices the distance and glances over, seeing you discreetly covering your mouth. He nearly laughs, finding your actions endearing, but he manages to hold it back. He quickly looks back down, so you won't catch him staring.

He brings your pencil to your sketch and goes over the petals, bringing the edges in a bit with more of a curve. Then he moves to the vase and erases a little of one of the shadows to lighten it up. You watch all the while, amazed at how he figured out and fixed the issue so quickly.

When he finishes adding his touches, he holds the sketch out in front of him, trying to see it with a new eye to check if it looks the way it should. He nods his head, content with the result.

"Wow, you fixed it. It looks amazing!" You compliment, extremely impressed.

"It was no big deal," he brushes it off, "sometimes you just need a fresh pair of eyes to see something."

"I'm Hyunjin by the way," he says, introducing himself, "Hwang Hyunjin." You're a little confused when he gives his last name, but you don't think too hard about it. I mean, it was kind of cute of him to be so formal anyway. He stands up from the bench and you follow, aware that you have to get going sometime soon.

"Y/n, nice to meet you," you respond, excited to have made a new friend. All of your friends were majors in engineering and other sorts of classes. None of them really enjoyed the same things you do, so you can't believe you've managed to find someone who seems to be into similar things.

Hyunjin reaches into his pockets, pulling out his phone. He takes a second to unlock it and looks at you in hope.

"Could I get your number? Maybe we could do this again sometime. I’d love to have someone to paint with," he asks shyly, extending his arm out for you to grab his phone. You accept his offer and put your number in, sending yourself a text so you'll have his number, too.

After you hand his phone back, his eyebrows shoot up upon realizing the time written at the top of the screen. You can tell he panics a bit, immediately slipping his phone away.

"I actually have somewhere to be, but I'll see you again, yeah?" He asks, trying to make sure you feel the same way. He starts to walk backward, albeit a little clumsily, while awaiting your answer with a charming smile painted on his face.

"For sure," you tell him with a smile, and he turns around and walks away. You watch his retreating form, shocked at what just happened.

"Oh my god," you whisper as you celebrate a little. You start to realize how many other people are in the room and take a deep breath, not wanting to embarrass yourself. You're just so excited and to be honest, Hyunjin was breathtaking.

You calm down a little and walk back up to the painting, wanting to admire it one last time before you have to leave. Not only is it one of the best paintings you have ever seen but it also happened to start a very interesting conversation and bring you a new friend. Maybe it was fate.

As you go to turn away, the silver of the plaque beneath the painting catches your eye, and you realize that you never read it like you typically try to. You love to see where and who all the beautiful artworks come from. You lean down a bit, trying to read the small black print. Since it's only a temporary exhibit the descriptions weren't anything too fancy.

Your mouth falls open within seconds of reading it. Your expression quickly turns into one of amusement thinking back on your latest interaction. You shake your head slightly in disbelief.

There, written as the artist of the piece was the one and only...

Hwang Hyunjin.

#slvt4felix #skz #stray kids #skz x reader #hyunjin #artist!hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #strangers to lovers #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #self indulgent

[yxine]

hiii this is my first ever request so i'm nervous but 😅 I had this idea (i'm delulu) of the reader going to one of badas classes and she joins the reader in the choreo when it's time to perform and their relationship kinda forms from there 🩵

It's okay babes I'm delulu too, your idea is so good! It was so fun writing it! Do send more requests if you want to;)

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— FLOW. ❞

Bada Lee x Student!Reader:

— in which Bada joins her student that she secretly adores on the choreography she had made.

Really short!

notes: any characters in this fiction is not mine, this is made purely for entertainment.

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You were nervous, this was your first time being a part of your teacher's film. Usually you would just be on the sidelines watching other people in your class dance to their hearts content to appeal the viewers behind the film, well also their teacher.

Bada Lee, a famous choreographer in south Korea who had choreographed for multiple artist such as Kai from Exo, NCT, Aespa and etc. Known for being a very good dancer, a vibe that attracts men and women alike and for her duality that seemed to always surprise people outside from her circle.

She intimidated you, but you also can't help but feel attracted to her. It was the 'Bada Effect' or so they say and you certainly agree with that.

So now here you are standing in the middle of the studio waiting for Bada to finish testing the speakers. Your hands were sweating so much you kept wiping your palms on your black trouser. You have to perfect this, for the spectators...for Bada.

And so, the music started and your body immediately moved to the beat. Every step was on beat, it was like you were water, fluid on every movements. The places where you need more impact, you gave it so popping to make the quality even higher. It looked like you were the one who made the choreography, not your teacher.

Bada can't help but just stare at you as you danced like it was the last thing you do. This was one of the reasons why she chose you to dance for one of her videos, your quality was out of this world, she even wondered why you were still taking her classes. But it was also exactly why she adored you and exactly why it took her this long to show you off to other people without you knowing.

With your aura, it will just be a matter of time before you become famous like her. Which is why she doesn't put you in her videos til now because if you had all the attention, how will she get yours?

One of the reasons why Bada also chose you was because she originally made the choreo for a duo, so guess what she's going for there. Yes...

Everyone in the studio cheered loudly as Bada suddenly went behind you, arms were wrapped around you before swiftly moving to your left. The image looked like a lover wanting to wrap their arms around their significant other but was pulled away. It made everyone yell in surprise as suddenly the dance made sense now.

You on the other hand was focused on the dance that even when Bada joined you, you were in the zone and didn't even flinch. It was like both of you planned it but it wasn't.

Both your bodies in sync and was so closely each other it looked so intimate, the tension was so high as both of you grinded to the rhythm. This should not be done in the studio was what the other's were thinking.

It wasn't until the song ended that you finally snapped out of it and covered your mouth in shock the moment your eyes locked with your teacher.

When did she get here?!

Bada only smiled and chuckled in amusement of your expression, slightly taken aback as you didn't even notice her. You were dancing with so much effort and focus it looked cute in her eyes. The fact that it was her choreography that made you like this...

"That was good, love. Maybe we should do it again next time." Bada said to you making you blush profusely as she winked and clapped her hands to get her other students' attention while you just stood there processing.

I got to watch that video when it uploads!

#bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #swf2 #bada lee x oc #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n

[dollya-robinprotector]

FINALLY! DOLLYA CONCEPT

I'll have a little look back and remember how I came up with this current Sona design. The me of 2021 definitely would look at this and go "WTF???". When I search and place old drawings side by side for comparison, It's really been a process of changing my perspective on myself and constantly finding what I want.

It'll be very random and full of my old drawings, so if you don't mind a little rambling, welcome to go under the cut and go back in time with me!

Let's start with this design. As you can clearly see it was based on how I actually look irl, from the outfit, hairstyle to make-up.

Tbf this was not my first attempt to create a Sona, but it was a huge milestone because it's 2018, the year I got into my dream Art university and left home. My style completely changed, and this Sona showed it perfectly.

I drew this with my fingers, on my broken phone, to enter a Vietnamese clothes design competition, where we modernized some traditional clothes. What I did here is a modernized Nhật Bình. I won and got my design made into real clothes and sent to me. I'm still proud of it to this day XD

It was fun! I draw her almost daily, like how I do with Lya and Lyah in this blog. I used her to make friends with other artists. I even created a gender-bent version for her : D

But the uni life was stressful, especially when I entered my third year and tried to escape my parents' grasp. They were furious and threatened me, I started working extra and do commission to pay for my own living and rent, lessons were hard, and homework and projects were pilling,... As a result, I often use my sona to stress draw.

It didn't help much, my anxieties and insecurities kept adding to the molten fire inside me, and my overthinking got worse day by day.

But then at some point, I decided to separate myself from that sona. She turned into one of my many OCs, maybe more special but I no longer see my entire self in her anymore.

I have to thank my two besties for that. They pulled me out of my darkest moments and stayed with me. They remain to be my only two most important people in this whole world.

I started to "reuse" the sona appearance into creating many other OCs for many other fandoms I joined (Cookierun, HnK, FGO, KnY, Genshin,...). I had fun jumping between different styles lol.

The idea for the current design started to take shape when one day I drew her wearing a white delicate dress (I usually just do red) and a see-through sleep dress I just bought.

Something started clicking.

Then I became an assistant for an Ero Artist. Yup. I started to be exposed to more "sexy" character designs and tbh I just love those. I love drawing female characters already, but there's something something about cute and sexy girls in lingerie... If you know what I mean.

The design slowly became clearer. Cute and pristine-white, see-through lingerie, with little four petals flowers, and little bows, perfect.

The details still varied. They depended on the style I was using or my mood, whether I wanted to go into details or not. That's the fun of drawing your own design, let's keep it.

And here we are~ Maybe it's still not final, but I'm happy with it, and that's enough for me now!

If you've been reading this far, thank you and congratulations! I will send you a kiss and wish you a good day~~ Hope you're having fun scrolling on my blog~

#Dollya concept #dollya art #Just Dollya herself #cw self destruction #cw self doubt #cw self loathing #cw self deprecation #concept art #character concept #all in all this is a fun journey

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Request: can you please write something cute with Harry and like 7 year old daughter please!! + y/n?! Ty!!!

Warning!! Cuteness overload! A/N I have NO idea what I was writing about but I guess I hope this is okay!

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

-

You had, had an overly busy day and finally you were able to head home. Today was Halloween and the kids were already out causing a nightmare. Sure Halloween was fun but still you didn’t like working during it. Here you were unlocking the front door, looking forward to see your husband and, daughter Florence. As soon as you had opened the door you were hit by a strong smell of… something. Your nose crinkled slightly in disgust before you shut the door quietly. As you made your way closer and closer to the living room the smell got more and more potent before eventually you had stopped outside of the door seeing Harry sat on the floor, talking sweetly to Florence, whom was jumping up and down with a nail varnish pot that had a piece of paper wrapped around it which said ‘pleasing’ clearly the little girl wanted to paint her daddy’s nails with his own brand of varnish but that stuff was expensive so he had to get around it somehow.

“Is someone learning to be a makeup artist?” You spoke up, Florence looking at you with a massive grin as she nodded Harry looking to you with a small smile “let’s show mummy yeah?” Florence nodded excitedly grabbing onto Harry’s wrist and lifting it up to show you the… art.. she had created on his hands. The paint was all over his fingers practically, going way past his nails, some of the nail varnish even covering his tattoos. You let out a small laugh “oh wow that’s beautiful.” You smiled looking at Harry who was still remaining a good sport. “Flo has used many different colours. Haven’t you sweetheart.. tell mummy.” He spoke, the little girl looking at you with excitement “yes! Daddy loves blue so I did blue!! Pink!! Black and…” she looked at Harry who looked at her with such a loving look “white.” He spoke, Florence nodding excitedly “that’s beautiful..” you spoke before you walked over to Harry and pressed a kiss to his lips “I’m going to clean up.. have fun…” you giggled out, Florence scrunching her face up as she whined out a “ewww” making both you and Harry laugh.

-

As you went upstairs Florence went back to decorating his nails “daddy can I do your nails for your concerts?” She asked excitedly and he chuckled nodding his head “sure.” He spoke watching as she burst with excitement again, nearly sending the nail varnish everywhere if it wasn’t for Harry’s quick movements his large hand surrounding her smaller one “hey… no throwing.” He watched her continue to bounce up and down, not listening to him, in her own world “hey… hey… Flo..” he tried to grab her attention but still she wasn’t focusing “Florence.” He spoke more clearly and she paused looking at him “listening ears on, yeah?” She nodded slowly giving him the nail varnish and leaning into him holding onto him tightly

“Daddy” she spoke softly and he hummed “can you dress as Peter Pan and I go as Wendy?” Harry let out a small laugh, last year he was a princess with her, the other year he was the beast and this year… well… he was now Peter Pan. Clearly. “Of course darling. Anything you want.” She smiled excitedly and kissed his cheek over and over again excitedly “can you paint my nails too?!” Harry nodded and happily did as she wanted, painting her nails oh so delicately, holding her small hands in his palm and carefully stroking the brush over her nails slowly and gently and eventually he had completed on doing her nails, constantly having to keep her hands out of her mouth and keeping her wrists down but explaining “toxic” things to a seven year old wasn’t exactly easy.

-

eventually nighttime had come and you and Harry had come up with outfits for him and Florence. Here you were laughing and taking pictures of Harry who was still being a good sport but did not look comfortable whatsoever. Florence looked pretty in her dress and Harry was wearing tight green trousers, a green T-shirt that had holes in it and a random cap but the effort was what mattered. You laughed continuously to the point you were certain you were going to pee yourself and eventually he had taken Florence’s hand and they were both going trick or treating. You loved that man so much.

The evening passed by slowly and eventually the two were back and Florence was eating her dinner, Harry stood by you his arm wrapped around your waist

“Trick or treat…” he teased you still wearing the tight outfit. “Trick…” you hummed out and he smirked before leaning in and kissing you deeply but gently all at once.. oh how you adored him.

#harry styles x y/n #x reader #harry styles #harry edward styles #yn #imagines #comfort #harry styles x you #harry styles comfort #one direction #harry styles cute #daddy harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabble #dad! harry styles #dad!harry styles #dad!harry #dad and mum #daddy harry #harry styles sweet. #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #comfort imagine #comfort stories #random #random blurb #requests open

[gabessquishytum]

Hob snuck into this fancy party up the hill, cause why not. These rich as fuck Endless bastards lord their money and power over the town, but make sure to stay "safe" behind their high walls. What did Hob have to lose, just taking a peek, he was getting out of this shit town tomorrow, his truck was gassed and his scholarship was secured. He was just going to grab a drink and see what all the fuss was about.

As he was wandering around the dumb house, filled with horrible people, Hob happened on a beautiful library that was filled with books and a crying, pretty, paint-covered, boy who was maybe Hob's age. Hob didn’t want to get involved, but he couldn't just leave someone sad and crying.

When some asked him if he was okay, Dream wasn't prepared to look up to see a doe-eyed (horribly dressed) handsome young man. He thought it would just be his horrible parents, siblings or some combination of their horrible party guests. All there to just make fun of him. Dream wished he could just leave this place!

The boy, young man, was even more beautiful when he looked up at Hob with deep blue eyes. Hob was hooked.

When he left town in the morning, Hob had more than his suitcase in his beat up pickup truck - he had a pretty artist and a new roommate. It was too soon to do more than hope they could be more......

I love the idea of Hob being a thief who ends up stealing Dream right from under the nose of his family.

Poor Dream is... somewhat clueless about the outside world. He's led a sheltered life, and he doesn't quite understand some things. But that's okay, because Hob takes care of him. And Dream is a damn good artist, with a proper education, so it's not long before he manages to get a commission here and there. He can finally contribute to the rent on his and Hob’s shitty bedsit! They get pizza to celebrate and sit on the floor with candles and soft music. Both of them are desperate to lean in for a kiss, but they're both too scared of the potential rejection...

Dream's art gets noticed by lots of people, and soon he's actually doing very well in the local area. He does wall-art for shops and cafes, murals for the community centre, and of course he paints the sad little flat where he and Hob are still living in a myriad of colours. It's beautiful. Hob is so in love.

They run into some old friends of Dream’s family at some point, and they start getting mean and making threats. Hob acts on instinct and throws a punch that sends the ringleader of the assholes sprawling. He runs off with Dream in tow, and they end up hiding in an alley, breathing hard and gazing into each other's eyes. Their lips meet...

And someone comes at them from behind, knocking Hob in the back of the head and bundling Dream away from him, into a car. Its so quick he barely has time to scream.

He knows he's being dragged back to his family, and his heart is racing - what if Hob isn't okay?

But of course Hob is okay. And he's coming after his pretty artist. No one gets to take his Dream away. He'll burn the whole damned house down if he has to, and then he'll give Dream the proper kiss that he deserves.

[kanmom51]

JK live 23 September 2023 (NYC)

20:11 or 8:11 pm EST

cr./to the creators of the media used in this post.

or

24 September 2023 9:11 am KST.

Coincidence? Starting the live at 8:11? I think not.

And not the first time he goes live at that time either.

So yeah, JK came live at 8:11 and ended the live at 13:23 minutes.

13 again? Coincidence again? Given that he said his goodbyes at around the 12 minute mark and then waited (?) for it to reach 13? Maybe. Fact is it did.

OMG, he opens up the live like this:

He's so damn adorable.

And it's a Bratz lip gloss, lol.

How can you not love him?

Anyway, JK starts the live saying long time no see and with talk about 3D coming out on the 29th. He tells us how it was his idea to add the clip at the end of the GCF performance, but someone ruined the surprise by running it during the rehearsals, which they obviously weren't supposed to. Oopsy. Spoiler king was spoilered. Lol.

He is a little fidgety, feels like he's doing the live cause he needs to, rather than really wants to... just a feeling I had.

JK says that as much as he was busy he actually did have time to come to us live, but, and this is where JK has decided to place the boundaries that he himself kind of tore down just a little while ago - he talks about there having to be a push and pull, but I guess he realised, perhaps with some help from others, that tearing down those walls between himself and us has also created an expectation from some fans for more, too much. Also, there needs to be some mystery (he was probably told) and leave the fans with a want for more...

I don't think this is the end of the JK we came to know and love the past few months, but I do think that he is trying to re-assess and set some boundaries between the artist that he is and us as fans.

And truthfully, let's be real here for a sec. Us, the fans, we were kind of a filler in. When the real thing is there, and the time to enlistment is getting shorter and shorter, and there is a choice between the two, who do you think he will choose? A 3 hour live with us or a sleepover with JM? I really don't think the choice is such a difficult one. Do you?

JK asks how the performance was. Hasn't monitored it yet (oh, and believe me when he does he's going to be hard on himself). And yet, even though he heard from fans they liked it, he feels he did better at rehearsal. Says it's a jynx. On the day of the performance his throat got dried up. It's called anxiety or nerves JK. If only there was someone there with him to calm those nerves...

And before you come at me, yes. I do feel he was anxious. He was a little closed up and distant as well. The enormity of it. The having to speak English. The being there ALONE. There were these little moments of disconnect during the performance. Maybe if he would have started his set with the more lively songs it would have helped, but if only there was someone there to support him and calm him, that dryness in the throat he talks about... yeah, non existent. My opinion. Fight me.

Then Jin shows up in the comment.

I mentioned that it felt like he did the live because he had to (after the performance and the 3D teasers dropping). Jin showing up in the comments, his reaction, felt like relief in a sense. He was really happy.

He saw one of the members commented, went in to see who it was and was really happy to see him.

The whole interaction between them was so older and younger brother, lol.

Jin with the "stop touching your hair", the whole call me convo (JK saying the times aren't lining up him being overseas and Jin answering with him texting Jhope 300 messages a day, as in "you ass, you can always send me a message instead", lol).

Watch the interaction here:

What did I take from the interaction with Jin?

First of all, that JK was really happy to see him. Not JM level happy, of course, but really happy. Do I say what I'm thinking? About members showing up in his comments and his reaction to them? Nah. In this instance I will take the fifth.

Second, we get it straight out of the horses mouth: JK is enlisting soon. Not like we didn't know it already. Like seriously. But there are those, solos mainly, that seem to still think that JK won't be enlisting with the others. Well, JK made it abundantly clear in that conversation that he's definitely enlisting and it's happening soon. It's the "I'll be joining that party soon" (as in the Jin and Jhope army party) and it's in the "you'll be out while we're still in so take care of Army until we're done" whole convo as well.

Anyway, you gotta love Jin.

Moving on.

JK tells us that 3D is different from Seven - and to look forward to it.

Wanted to thank army that came to the concert, thank K army for taking the time and supporting him.

29th September is Choseok. JK says the reason the song is released that day is he thinks we will like it more. Ok, yeah. Not the tight schedule and looming enlistment. Well, he does hint about it. Starting up about the reason it's hurried, and why he's been in a hurry, but leaves it up to our imagination. I guess we know, right? If they want to be back by mid 2025 enlistment needs to happen by at the latest start of 2024. And in the little time left he has the single and an album to release. And my guess is there is more too. Some set for before enlistment, some set to land while they are away. JM and him.

He asks "what's after this? what is it?" laughingly answering "your curious, right?"

"What is it? I am really looking forward to it." he says cheekily.

Then he says he's working hard in preparing something for us.

And then he looks down and finds the exact comment he wants to answer:

The Weverse translation is a little different.

The gist is the same.

We have JK recognizing a JM comment and answering it specifically. And I say specifically because there were PLENTY of Tae comments in his live. Layover, Tae, Slow dance, screaming at him to just say a god damn thing about Tae's album or releases. But our man, he stood fast, lol.

And don't get me wrong, I don't think he doesn't support Tae or want him to succeed. He's his bandmate and friend. But you know what he ain't, is his boyfriend. That is the one and only Mr. Park Jimin. So, it's not that JK doesn't care, it's that Tae just ain't on his mind. Wasn't it Tae that used to say, repeatedly, that JK just ignores him? Lol. But even if Tae isn't on his mind, the comments, they can definitley serve as a fucking annoying reminder. Which JK chooses very loudly to ignore. And making a statement of sorts while doing so, by reacting, out of all of those comments, to the one relating to JM.

That's what I call a big ass JK FUCK YOU to the cult.

Anyway, we were talking about JK's reaction. And when you talk about reactions you look not only at the verbal but also the body language.

The way he leans in to read the comment once he recognizes it's about JM.

The way he does that head tilt when talking about JM's dancing.

The neck crack.

The hand gesture.

Let's talk about the hand gesture for a second here.

Man knows the choreography. That hand gesture was him doing part of the choreo. Muscle memory. And his eyes and facial expression.

Also, have a look at this:

Ok, so it is funny how JK knew JM posted to IG and watched it as well... You know, considering the man told us he not only deleted his own IG account but deleted the app from his phone all together...

Thing is man monitors SM. We know that!! You think he wouldn't have seen it on Twitter? Or TikTok? JM's dance is all over the place. So yeah, my initial thought was: hey, how did he see it without an IG account? But then, you know, when common sense took over, I realised he could have seen it ANYWHERE. We know he monitors. We assume he monitors JM and Jikook accounts. He would have seen it either way.

But in any case, as I mentioned, this wouldn't have been the first and only time he has seen this choreo or dance.

JK continues to tell us he's going out for diner with staff. A good reason indeed to end the live (that like I said, he wasn't in the feels for).

And continues telling us to be curious.

Didn't someone tell him curiosity killed the cat?

At the end of the live JK makes us know he's monitoring SM (like I said before, something we already knew). He knows what fans are saying. He talks about the good. And he is thankful for those kind words.

But he also sees the bad. We know it!!

Ooh, btw, do we talk about that ring JK was wearing?

This is the second time around we have him wearing this kind of ring.

Interesting.

So to sum it up:

In those 13 minutes and a bit of his live, he mostly spoke about the performance, 3D coming out, talked to Jin in the comments and answered the comment that happened to be about JM.

I guess that wraps it up.

#Jungkook #JK #JK live #JK Weverse live #JK 3D #Jikook #kookmin #Minkook #Jimin #JM

[causeilikelix]

Inked - Yang Jeongin Smut

↳Pairing: Tattoo artist!Yang Jeongin x afab reader

↳Words: 6.5k READ on my AO3 HERE

↳Warnings: SMUT, oral (f. receiving), reader gets a tattoo so mentions of needles and some blood but not in a sexual sense, softdom!Jeongin, suggestive, not full sex,

↳Summery:  Starting at the age of 21, the search for your soulmate begins. Once you find them, you know by first touch. At that very first touch the intense carnal urge to consummate the union overwhelms you. You don't expect to find your soulmate in the man you chose to do your very first tattoo. And he, well, he wasn't expecting to stay after closing time but the second he sees you he can't complain.

↳Taglist: @letsmpuppy, @siewoon, @magical-butterflies, @ohmy-moonlightx, @junebug032, @giyusatorou, @skzfelixlove, @kittkat44, @nap-of-a-starr, @ventitto, @blankdyean, @lethallyprotected, @poisonivy21, @nobody3210, @chuuswifereal, @hisokasimp1

↳Notes: The first installment of my soulmate smut au series!  Enjoy.

“THANKS, MAN, I really like it!  You do great work!”  The man thanked Jeongin with a strong handshake that made the glossy new motorcycle tattoo on his bicep flex. 

“Anytime.”  Jeongin flashed him a smile that dented one of the dimples in his cheeks.

“Let me know when your books open again, okay?  I already have ideas for my next one!”  The man handed Jeongin a wad of cash.  He quickly counted it out and thanked the man for the generous tip before sending him on his way. 

Once the man left the small shop, Jeongin sat down hard on his stool and let out a colossal yawn.  The time on the clock indicated that it was well past closing time but he had to finish up the piece he was working on.  Now all he had to do was clean up his space and disinfect his tools and he could go home and pass out.  As the only person in his small studio, he could set his own hours but he still had to do enough pieces a week to keep the lights on.  

It also meant that he didn’t have time to finish the sleeve on his arm that he was working on.  When he wore an athletic tank top like he was today, you could see swirling patterns of ink starting at his shoulder and down to his elbow.  He had a few tattoos on his other hand and forearm but not one single sleeve.  It was only a matter of time but he barely had any to speak of. 

Speaking of time, he had to get cleaned up.

Jeongin rose to his aching feet and started to disinfect the chair where his clients sat.  He wiped it down thoroughly and made sure to get a few dried droplets of ink and blood off the seat.  Tattooing was messy work, to say the least. 

Next he gathered all of his tools and threw them into a warm bath of disinfectant.  While those soaked, he figured he should mop so he wouldn’t have to suffer doing it last.  He made his way to the back to prepare the mop water when he heard the bell over the door jingle.  He cringed, realizing that he had forgotten the most important thing about closing the tattoo parlor.  He’d forgotten to actually flip the sign and lock the door.  

Damn. 

Jeongin turned around and headed back into the main shop.  He ran his hands through his mussed hair and sighed.  He didn’t want to deal with asking whoever it was to leave but he had to sleep sometimes. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m actually closed up for the day and-” Jeongin started to explain but he stopped dead in his tracks when he laid his eyes on you.

You stood in the entryway to the shop with your wide eyes taking in the art examples hung all over the shop walls.  You gripped the strap of your small bag so tightly that your knuckles were about to turn white.  You were wearing the world's cutest little white pleated skirt that hugged your curves and your thighs and that stopped mid-thigh, a blush pink blouse, and a cream and pink patterned button-up sweater that brought the whole look together.  A soft blush adorned your cheeks.  

The skirt hugged your thighs beautifully, accentuating your legs and making them look long.  The blouse cupped your full breasts tenderly and let just a bit poke out through the top.  They heaved when you drew breath and his eyes flicked down to them without even thinking about it.  Your arms hugged your body a little bit, perhaps for warmth or maybe just to calm your trembling nerves.  This action helped push your breasts up a little more.  Your makeup was lightly done with soft pinks and creams while your lip tint was a stunning cherry red. 

Jeongin just about broke. 

How did someone as sweet as you end up in a place like this?

“How can I help you?”  Jeongin asked instead.  He could stay open a little longer.

“Oh, um… I’m sorry, if you’re closed then I’ll just-”  You made a move as if you were going to leave, but Jeongin couldn’t let you.  Not yet.

“No, I’m not closed yet!  Is there something I can do for you?”  Jeongin smiled warmly at you, which he hoped would entice you to stay.  He had so many questions.

“I… well…”  

You eyed him up and down, your mouth watering slightly at the sight of him in tight black skinny jeans and a workout top that left relatively little to the imagination.  His black hair was in a fluffy black mop that covered his eyes a little, but it was parted just enough to show off his eyebrow piercing. 

“I want a tattoo.”  Your voice came out stronger than you expected it to. 

“A tattoo?  Of what?”  Jeongin’s gaze raked down your body, wondering just what you wanted to put where on your pristine, untouched skin.  He could already imagine all of the artwork he wanted to put onto your body.

He inched his way closer to you, akin to the way a tiger stalks its prey.  His slender fox-like eyes raked over you and you let out a small gasp as if he was actually touching you.  Rather than shrinking back, like most prey would, you shifted half a step closer.  

You had no idea why you were drawn to his shop in the first place.  You had other options lined up in case this one didn’t work out, but his style called to you somehow.  When you first laid eyes on him, it was like it made sense for his art to belong to him.  You couldn’t explain why you wanted to be close to him, but your body ached for him to be near.

“Oh, um…”  you fumbled in your bag for your phone to present him with the picture.  You’d worked hard to pick something out that would be simple and beautiful, even though it was a stark contrast from the artwork on the walls. 

To say the least, you had no idea why someone would want to tattoo a naked woman on themselves but she certainly was artfully done. 

“I was hoping for something simple like…”  You pulled up the picture and tilted the screen so he could see it.  Jeongin tore his eyes away from your face to your phone screen, which displayed a simple flower design that included some simple geometric shapes all interwoven through a crescent moon.  “The, um, the flower is a violet.  It’s my mother’s birth flower, so…”

You stumbled over your words a little and cursed yourself silently for getting so flustered.  Your ears burned and you wondered if it was hot in here or if it was just him.  

Jeongin smirked as he took in your form and he couldn’t help himself.  To hell with the hours.  The design was simple enough and shouldn’t take long anyway.  Besides, he had to figure out why a young and innocent girl would come to a place like this. 

“Looks great.  What’s your budget?”  Jeongin should have cared, but he didn’t.

“Oh, um… I want to stay under two-hundred, if that’s okay.”

“I can do it for a flat hundred.  Sound good?”  He grinned and tilted his head at you, reminding you of a young puppy or an eager schoolboy.  The muscles in his shoulders and arms were an obvious reminder that he was neither. 

“Um, yeah.  Perfect.  We can schedule a time or-”

“Wanna get started now?  I gotta finish cleaning my equipment but we can do it now if you want.”

“Now?”  You gaped at him, “Like… right this second?”

“Don’t you want it?  I mean, my schedule is pretty full at the moment and I don’t think I’ll have an opening for another month or two unless there’s a cancellation.  I have time right now, so do you wanna go for it?”

“Oh, um, if you’re busy then don’t worry about it!  I can come back another time or ask through the proper channels or-”

“Nonsense.  If you’ve thought about it long enough and you’re sure then let’s go for it, yeah?”  

“How long do you think it’ll take?”  

Jeongin nodded towards your phone again, signaling for you to show him the image once more.  He hummed thoughtfully for a few minutes as he thought about how he could possibly draw out the visit.

Jeongin didn’t have a soulmate yet, but he figured to hell with it.  Surely that was something made up by the media to get them to sell romcoms.  Sure, he wondered if the draw he had to you was due to that but he’d been drawn to other people before without the carnal urge to fuck them into the next century.  

Maybe he was just curious.  He wondered if the small bit of cleavage that peeked out of your top was on purpose to entice him or just a happy accident.  Either way, he loved it. 

“Forty-five minutes tops.  An hour if you want me to be particular about the shading.”  Jeongin shrugged.

“Oh… okay, let’s do it!”  You nodded confidently and the small amount of innocent enthusiasm you displayed went straight to his dick.

“Great.  Why don’t you email that image to me so I can make a trace of it and fill out my liability agreement while I finish cleaning the equipment.”  Jeongin made his way over to the desk near the front to grab his drawing tablet and an extra one for you.

“Okay!”

You obediently followed his instructions and emailed the picture to the address he gave you.  He prepped the small tablet with the paperwork and set it on the counter for you.  He didn’t dare touch you yet.  The suspense would kill him at this rate.

“Have a seat in the chair and I’ll be ready with the stencil in about fifteen minutes, okay?”  Jeongin gestured for you to sit in the navy leather chair to wait for him.

You followed his suggestion and got settled.  Jeongin stared down at the email from you on his tablet, taking particular interest in the signature at the bottom.  It was clearly automatic but it gave your name and your contact information, including your cell phone number.  He made a mental note to ask for it later.  He didn’t wanna use it without your permission, but he also wanted to ask you out properly so he’d have to ask you for it.

He couldn’t be the only one feeling the attraction, right?

As he worked on cleaning off his equipment, he couldn’t help but think back to your precious pink cheeks and your perfect thighs which he was about to mark as his own.  Something about the idea of him leaving something on your skin forever made his jeans grow a little tighter.  Sure, he wanted to leave so many hickies and bite marks that you couldn’t wear shorts for a month, but those would fade with time.  The ink that he was about to put on your skin would be there forever.  Even if you didn’t end up being his soulmate, you’d always have something of his to remember him by.

Once his tools were clean, Jeongin got to work on drawing your tattoo.  He doodled on his tablet to make sure that the lines were clean and that he had some room for error if need be.  He was good at his job and he hadn’t made a mistake in many years, but it was still important to have a failsafe.  Also, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to concentrate when he finally got to be close to your thighs.  

For a moment, he considered handing you off to another tattoo shop.  Maybe his attraction to you would cloud his judgment.  However, when you set the tablet down and settled back in the chair, he knew it was way too late.  

“Alright, one more decision to make,”  Jeongin made his way back over to you and plopped down on a nearby rolling stool.  He moved a little closer, but not close enough to where your knees would brush.  

“What’s that?”

“How big do you want it?  The smallest I could do would be about…”  he lifted his hands to demonstrate, “this but I can go as big as you want.”

“Oh, um,”  you glanced down at your thigh and he followed your gaze.  He licked his lips at the sight of your legs on full display for him.  All he wanted was to be squeezed between them as he rode you through your umteenth orgasm of the night.  Something about that damn skirt drove him crazy.  “About the size you have there is okay.”

“Perfect, I’ll print out the stencil and we’ll be good to go!”

Jeongin stood up and made a beeline for the counter at the front of the store.  He began the printing process and in the meantime he went to the front door and flipped the sign to “closed.”  White he was at it, he also shut off the neon sign in the window.  He thought about locking the door but figured that you would feel safer with it unlocked. 

You, however, would have been okay with anything.

From the moment you stepped into the shop, it was like lightning struck you to your place.  As soon as you laid eyes on him you knew that you’d come to the right place.  First of all, his work was immaculate.  His style was exactly what you were looking for.  However as soon as you saw the artist himself, it was as if you were glued to the ground.  He was positively, show stoppingly gorgeous.  He spoke with a slight Busan accent, which you found incredibly endearing.  His face was boyishly cute but his entire demeanor made up for that.  He looked as if he wanted to eat you alive and you would probably let him.   

You’d be the first to say you weren’t the most innocent person in the world.  Many people only ever slept with their soulmates, but not you.  You didn’t have a soulmate, but you still felt sexual urges on occasion.  You’d only slept with a couple of people, but even at the time both of you knew that it wasn’t right.  The sex was nice, but it wasn’t soulmate sex.  According to your best friend, who’d somehow lucked out and found her soulmate the day she turned 21, soulmate sex was unmatched.  

You could only hope that was true. 

Watching Jeongin walk around the shop was torture.  His skin practically glowed in the dim lights of the shop and the fluorescent lights from the signs on the window.  His muscles flexed as he worked on the stencil and your mouth watered at the sight.  How had you landed the hottest tattoo artist in the city on the first try?

Before you’d settled on his shop, you’d followed a bunch of different tattoo shops in order to gauge the different styles.  You’d looked for months to try and decide which artist would be the best.  That being said, the moment you came across Jeongin’s Instagram, you knew immediately that you loved his style.  

However, now you were liking something else about him entirely.

Jeongin strode over to you with the stencil in hand.  He shot you a boyish smile that somehow looked sinful coming from him. 

“Where do you want it?”  He asked.

Using one foot, he pulled up a rolling stool right next to the tattooing chair and he plopped down right next to her.  He held the stencil between his thumbs and forefingers, waiting for her to give him instruction. 

“Oh, right here.”  You lifted the hem of your skirt slightly and Jeongin’s eyes greedily followed the motion.  You used two hands to show him where you wanted it to be. 

Then came the moment of truth.

Was this incredible man your soulmate?  Or was he destined to just be your tattoo artist?

Jeongin leaned in closer and carefully lined up the stencil with where you wanted it.  Slowly, he lowered his hands towards your skin.  He glanced up at you as if to ask if you wanted him to touch you.  Your skin practically ached for his touch and you involuntarily lifted your leg to be closer.  Even if Jeongin wasn’t your soulmate, you knew there was something between you. 

The back of his knuckle grazed your thigh.

For a moment, nothing happened. 

Then, your core throbbed.  Hard.  

It was him.  This man was your soulmate.

Jeongin’s hands wavered but he slowly pressed the stencil onto your skin and carefully smoothed it out.  The pads of his fingers ran across the skin of your thigh, slowly mapping out the smoothness of your skin.  He bit back a gasp as his jeans tightened.  Both of his palms rested on your thigh now, under the guise of smoothing down the stencil but he knew better.  

Arousal licked up his spine and turned his ears bright red.  His cock strained desperately in his underwear, begging him to push it into the space between your legs.  The veins in his hands twitched as he gripped your thigh.  He bit down on his tongue to keep from shoving you down on the chair and taking you right that very second.  He just knew that you would feel perfect.  However, he had to be professional.

As gently as he could, Jeongin pulled the stencil back to reveal the rich purple ink staining your skin.  He stared at the design on your leg for a few long seconds before forcing himself to look up at you and he about came in his pants. 

You stared down at him with hooded eyes and blown out pupils.  Your glossy lips were parted as they eyed him up.  The arousal between your legs pulsed in waves.  You squeezed your knees together in an effort to keep some dignity.  After your shower this morning, you’d gotten dressed in a rush and forgot one of the most important articles of clothing.  The one that was the barrier between you and the outside world.  The one that should be between you and the man, your soulmate, who was about to tattoo your skin. 

Moments too late, you realized you’d neglected to put on panties. 

The space between your legs began to feel sticky.  Jeongin made no move to look away from you. 

“Is the placement okay?”  Jeongin’s voice sounded strained but he still managed to hold eye contact.  Your eyes flicked down to the ink once more.  It looked fine to you, so you nodded.  Jeongin smirked.  “Come on, darling, use your words.”

“Yes, it’s great.”  You blurted.  The space between your bodies was too vast.  In reality it was maybe two feet but in your mind it was like there were football fields between you. 

“Come on, you have to really look at it.  After all, it’s going to be on your skin forever.”  Jeongin cocked his head at you. 

Surely he was feeling the same brutal arousal as you, right?  Surely he understood what that meant, right?  You wanted to scream at him. 

WE’RE SOULMATES!  FUCK ME ALREADY!

But his gaze left you glued to his seat.  Suddenly, you were ready to follow orders.

You tore your gaze away from his to look down at your thigh.  The purple ink stained your skin in a bold preview of the tattoo you wanted.  The placement genuinely looked okay to you.  After probably the longest five seconds of your life, you looked back up.

“It looks great.  Let’s do it.”

“Awesome, ready to get started?”

You stared at him for a few seconds, willing your throat to cooperate. 

“Yes.”

“Perfect.”

“What’s your name?”  You blurted.  You knew him solely by his Instagram handle, which was his shop name but you couldn’t remember your own soulmate's name.  He only grinned. 

“Jeongin.  And yours?”

“Y/N.”  

“What a beautiful name, Y/N.”  Jeongin moved away from you just long enough to put on some blue latex gloves and some other supplies.  “Since this is your first tattoo I’m going to just do one of the smaller stars first.  If you don’t think you’re up for it after that, we can stop there, no judgment.”

“Okay.”  Your voice shook and you wondered just how he was staying so composed.

  On the contrary, Jeongin was so painfully hard that he was worried he’d cum if he moved the wrong way and applied just the right amount of friction.  

However, he shifted in his seat and prepared the tattoo gun.  He put on a pair of rubber gloves and leaned over your thigh.  He swallowed heavily before he placed his palm on your upper thigh.  As gently as he could, he placed the tip of the gun against the outline of one of the smaller stars on the design.  You winced when the needle began to do it’s thing, but didn’t stop him.  He gently traced the first small line of the tattoo before pulling away. 

“How was that?”  Jeongin asked you, but he couldn’t look at you in case his voice would quiver. 

“Stings but… I can take it.”  You chose your words carefully.  Jeongin tensed.  

“You can take it, huh?”  Jeongin’s grip on your thigh tightened.  Your core clenched around nothing. 

With that, Jeongin got right back to work.  He traced the pattern with his tattoo gun as slowly as possible.  Partially to draw out the visit but also to give you room if you needed to twitch or adjust.  Getting a tattoo for the first time was no joke, and while he wanted you to sit in his chair as long as possible, he also wanted your first tattoo experience to be as minimally traumatic as possible.  He had to remain as professional as humanly possible.  

However, that’s when he smelled it. 

Or to be more accurate, that’s when he smelled you.  

It was as if his sense of smell was heightened with his arousal, or maybe it was because your arousal was so strong.  Either way, when you shifted in your seat he got a strong whiff of it and if anything it made him harder.  The scent was so rich and sweet and it took everything in him not to part your legs and stick his face between them. 

His large palm squeezed your thigh gently, and in response you squeezed your thighs together.  With the realization that you were getting wetter and wetter with each passing second, you were determined to keep your legs locked shut so Jeongin couldn’t sense your arousal, but he had other plans. 

“Relax your thighs a little, darling,”  his tantalizing voice shot up your spine, “I can’t tattoo if you’re all tensed up.”

“Shouldn’t we talk about this?”  You blurted suddenly.  He blinked in surprise at you and your face flushed with embarrassment.  Maybe you’d gotten it all wrong. 

“Talk about what?  Your tattoo?  I’ve already started but we can certainly-”

“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t feel anything right now?”  

Jeongin’s shocked expression slowly melted into a smirk.  He squeezed your thigh tightly and pulled your leg towards him.  Your legs parted and exposed you to the chilly air of the tattoo shop.  The cold air licked up your core and you shivered. 

“Keep your pretty legs open for me while I mark you and maybe I’ll give you what I want,” Jeongin challenged as if his dick wasn’t throbbing in his underwear.  

“I- what?”  Your face flushed with embarrassment at the idea of being exposed to him, but at the same time you had a feeling that if you closed your legs he wouldn’t give you what you wanted. 

Jeongin got back to work.  One hand gently massaged your thigh when he wasn’t wiping away excess ink.  The tattoo gun stung as he traced the design, but you could barely feel it over the wet throbbing in your core.  You were positive that the inside of your thighs and the chair beneath you were doused in your slick.  You tried desperately to appear normal but you needed him inside you, like, yesterday. 

It became increasingly clear that Jeongin knew exactly what was going on.  The more you watched him, the more you should see him shifting in his seat to try and conceal the massive bulge in his jeans.  Deciding to test the waters a little bit, you spread your knees apart a little more.  

Jeongin had to pause and take a deep breath to keep himself composed.  The scent of your arousal was driving him absolutely mad and he was ready to get rid of the idea of having your tattoo take as long as possible.  Now he wanted it done as soon as possible so he could put his fingers inside you and let your taste coat his mouth.  He wanted to drink you up until you were shaking.  

“You’re doing so well for me, baby,”  Jeongin praised once he was halfway done.  He wiped the tattoo with a damp paper towel to get rid of some of the excess ink.  Your thigh was a little swollen but that was to be expected.  Your skirt fell delicately just enough to cover your core from him. 

“So you do know who I am?”  Your voice came out strained.  The more he touched you the more turned on you got.  You wondered if the entire shop smelled of your pussy. 

“Of course I do, angel.  I knew it from the second you walked in here.  Do you need a break?”  Jeongin cocked his head innocently once more. 

“N-no.  I want you to be done soon.”

“Why’s that, Y/N baby?”

Yeah, you were done for.  Any and all proprietary got thrown out the window.

“I need you inside me immediately.”  You couldn’t believe you’d just spoken that way to a stranger, but your pussy wanted what it wanted. 

“Then I’d better get back to work, huh?  I’m eager to see what’s mine.”

With that, Jeongin went back to it.  The sting of the needle and the blood didn’t bother you.  You had no idea how you could still be so wet while being in that kind of pain.  You didn’t think you were a masochist, but something about Jeongin made it seem normal.

You wanted to cry and beg for him to fuck you already, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t if you acted desperate.  

Instead you let out a pathetic whimper when a particularly empty clench made you shiver.  Jeongin paused and raised an eyebrow in question but you nodded to assure him that you were okay.  The tattoo wasn’t causing you any pain at this point.  The ache between your legs rivaled any and all pain you’d experienced thus far. 

The only sounds in the shop were the buzzing of the tattoo gun and your heavy breathing as you tried to get your arousal under control.  You had a feeling you’d cum the moment he finally touched you.  If he finally touched you.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby.  Keep your legs open, I want the chair to be soaking before I even give you my tongue.”  You shivered.  “Oh, you’d like that, huh?  I bet you’ll taste even better than you smell.  Your pussy is already crying for me.”

“Are you almost done?”  You asked and Jeongin tsked at you and pulled the tattoo gun away from your skin to wipe at the raw tattoo.

“You’re so impatient.  Do I need to teach you the rules?”  

“Wh-what are the rules?”

“The rules are that you sit still, legs open, and you don’t touch yourself.  When I’m done and if you’re good, maybe then I’ll give you my fingers, got it?  And I am going to take as long as I want to get this pretty tattoo done for you.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Already so obedient,”  Jeongin smirked, but dropped the facade for a moment to reassure you, “If you need a break just tell me, okay?  Tattooing can be hard.”

“Got it.”  You nodded, letting him know that he could get started again.  You were glad that, despite the dominance he was showing, he would give you a break if you wanted. 

However, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t need one.  From your perspective, it looked to be almost finished but you weren’t the artist.  You had no way of knowing when he would be done.  Especially since it was explicitly clear to you now that he wanted to take his sweet time with you.

A particularly sharp stab of the needle made you wince but you didn’t tap out.  At this point you needed literally any kind of friction to soothe the pounding in your core.  You could feel your heartbeat in your pussy. Your parted legs were a window into you and your smell overpowered the tiny shop.  

You thought this couldn’t get any worse.  That was, until Jeongin started speaking.  His voice sounded sweet and boyish but his words were anything but. 

“Baby, you smell absolutely divine.  I can’t wait to shove my tongue into you and drink up your sweetness.  I can’t wait to see your sweet, tight pussy.  I need to be inside you so bad but I gotta make you feel good first.  Baby, you’re mine forever.”  You clenched at this, hard.  Jeongin smirked at this.  “You like that, my love?  You like the idea of being mine forever?  Angel, your little pussy is mine.”

You were reduced to a whining, whimpering mess at his words.  You wanted to slip your fingers beneath your skirt and through your folds.  You figured that even the smallest touch would send you over the edge.  The desire and need you had for him was going to drive you crazy. 

“Please,” you begged and Jeongin smirked.

“Please, what, my love?”

“Please touch me or let me touch myself.  I need it.”

“You need it?  Sounds desperate.  Are you desperate for me?”

“Yes!  I’m so desperate for you!  I need your fingers!  I need your tongue.  I need your cock, please!”

Your hand slipped down to grab the hem of your skirt.  The tips of your fingers grazed your soaking folds and you moaned on contact.  Rules be damned, you needed relief and you needed it now.  The tip of your finger prodded your swollen hole.  

“What did I say?”  Jeongin pushed your hand away, “The tattoo is almost done.  Be patient or your slutty little hole gets nothing.  Do you even know what your body is craving so badly?  Have you ever had anyone else in you before?”

“No!  I swear, no one else has ever touched me.  But… I know what I want.”  Your eyes darted to the tent in his pants and your mouth watered.  Jeongin smirked.  

“Perfect.  Then you’re all mine to ruin.”  

A shiver ripped down your spine at his words.  

After what felt like an eternity, the buzzing of the tattoo needle stopped.  Jeongin wiped the tattoo a few more times, cleaned it, then applied a thin plastic protective film over it.  Every single touch of his hands on you made your body ache for more.  At this rate, you wondered if people could die from lack of touch.  

Once the film was applied, Jeongin tore his gloves off and raced to wash his hands.  He sat back on his stool almost before you’d realized he was gone.  

“I’d go over tattoo aftercare but I can barely think right now,” Jeongin admitted, swinging the stool around so he was sitting directly in front of you, “Y/N, baby, tell me this is okay.  I want you so badly but I won’t do anything if you say no.”

“If you don’t touch me right this instant, I’ll die.”  Your declaration made him chuckle.

Then, his hands were on you.  Without the gloves, the feeling of his skin on yours was borderline orgasmic.  His veiny hands grabbed your knees tightly and pressed down, forcing your legs open even more.  His gaze dropped from your eyes, down your body, to the hollow space between your legs.  It was barely covered by the thin material of your skirt but it was still like he was exposing you to the world. 

His hands moved up your legs, massaging your thighs along the way with deep presses and firm squeezes.  His eyes darkened the moment his nimble fingers flipped up your skirt and revealed your glistening core to him.  

“Y/N, baby, you’re so wet I think I’ll drown.”  Jeongin’s voice dropped an octave.  You could only whine and lift your hips up a little to entice him closer.  

“Jeongin, please, please touch me.”  You begged shamelessly.   He smirked at your neediness. 

“Next time I’ll punish you for being needy, but this time I’ll reward you for being so patient while you got that tattoo.”  

Jeongin’s hands landed on your inner thighs.  He slowly moved his hands closer, rubbing small circles as he inched closer to where you needed him the most.  Then, his fingertips grazed against your swollen hole and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan.  He circled upwards until he found your clit.  He knew he found it when you gasped and your knees opened a little bit more.  The second his finger made contact with your clit, intense sparks of pleasure shot through your veins.  

He rubbed in tantalizingly slow circles and you had half a mind to knock his hand out of the way to get off yourself.  You could feel your heartbeat in your pussy with how badly you needed him. 

Finally he moved his hand back down to your entrance and prodded it with his index finger.  He smirked when you moaned and pushed your hips up.  Then, he finally pushed his long digit into you and your core clenched onto him hard.  

“Oh baby, does that feel good?  You like it when I finger you?”  Jeongin cooed and he pressed a second finger into your dripping cunt, “I can’t take it anymore.”

Before you could register his words, Jeongin was shifting.  He pressed his free hand to the inside of your knee for stability as he leaned down and latched his mouth onto your glistening folds.  He sucked you into his mouth, slurping on your juices and moaning at the taste.  His lips latched onto your clit and sucked. 

You could feel his smirk against you as you moaned freely.  He played and pleasured your cunt as if he’d been doing it all his life.  He curled his fingers within you just the right amount as he searched for the gummy spot inside of you.  It didn’t take him long before the pad of his finger pressed into it and you let out a sob. 

“Please, please, please,”  you begged, though your brain was too clouded to remember what you were begging for.  

Jeongin lifted his head from your cunt to chide you, “Aw, baby, are you already drunk on my fingers?  I haven’t even given you my cock yet.  What do you want, angel?”

“Cu- cu, I wanna,” you lifted your hips a little to entice him back to your center.  Jeongin leaned down to lap gently at your clit and you moaned at the pleasure that ripped up your spine.

“I want to give you what you want, so just tell me, baby.”

“Cum!  I wanna cum!”

“You wanna cum?  How?”  He tilted his head innocently as if his chin wasn’t dripping in your arousal. 

“In your mouth.  On your tongue.  Please, please!”  You cried.  Your hand reached up to curl into his hair as you guided him back to your center. 

You were sure Jeongin would punish you later for touching him without permission, but right now he needed this as much as you did.  Jeongin’s lips latched right back onto your sensitive clit and got right back to work.  

He licked and sucked on the sensitive bud like his life depended on it.  Jeongin’s eyes slipped closed as he let your taste overwhelm his mouth.  Every gush of arousal on his fingers made his dick harder and harder.  He was sure he would blow untouched.  He removed his fingers from the depths of your core and you started to whine at the loss but he made up for it by immediately shoving his tongue into you and lapping up every single drop of arousal.  

The warm, wet muscle inside of you wiggled and sucked at your dripping hole.  Jeongin ate you as if he’d never tasted anything so good in his life, and to be honest he probably hadn’t.  He wanted to savor every moment between your legs, and as much as he wanted to eat you out until the sun came up, he also needed to cum.  Like now.  But you had to cum first. 

He pressed lightly just above your clit to push the bundle of nerves out a little bit.  Once it was exposed to the air, he suffocated it with his lips.  He latched on and sucked like his life depended on it.  Every suck and every lick got you closer and closer to the edge.  

He moaned into your cunt and the vibrations made you shiver.  Your core began to clench and spasm around nothing.  Almost as if he could tell, he plunged his fingers back into you.  The friction of his fingers and the suction of his mouth overwhelmed you but in the best way. 

You meant to warn him, you really did, but your orgasm grew and crashed over you before you could even register what was happening.  You moaned louder than you had all night and the grip you had on his head tightened.  Your cunt clenched and rippled around his fingers and he moaned as he drank up your release.  Pleasure pulsed through your body in waves.  Your cunt sucked his fingers deeper into you as he worked you through the most intense orgasm of your life. 

All of the ones you’d done yourself were nothing compared to how Jeongin made you feel.  

Despite the sharp pang of overstimulation, Jeongin kept sucking at your folds and at your hole to get every single taste of your orgasm that he could. 

It wasn’t long before the pleasure began to mount again and a second orgasm washed over you as Jeongin tenderly lapped at your cunt.  The second orgasm was less intense but it left you empty and craving even more of him. 

“Cock,” you announced and he pulled away from your cunt and raised an eyebrow at you.

“What?”

“Please, I’m so empty, I need your cock,”  you couldn’t believe the bold words that were coming out of your mouth, but Jeongin didn’t hesitate. 

“You want my cock?  You think you can take it?”  Jeongin removed himself from you and sat back.  The outline of his thick cock showed right through his tight pants.  You salivated at the sight. 

“Please,”

“Very well then,”  Jeongin rose to his feet and began to undo his belt and the zipper on his pants, “Alright, soulmate, let's have some fun, then.”

One thing was for sure.  If your cunt felt even half as good as it tasted, Jeongin would never let you go. Thank goodness for Soulmates.

#skz jeongin #yang jeongin #jeongin smut #i.n. smut #skz i.n smut. #soulmate au #stray kids smut #skz smut #tattoo artist au #smut au

[soapyghostie]

I felt kinda weird sending a request cause we talk outside of here but oh well

Do you think you could write Nubbins and Danny with a reader who does photography, horror is one of the reasons I got into photography so idk, sorry if I worded this weird

I had the motivation to do one more for now since I haven’t been very productive in my classes so far today. Hope you enjoy!

The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson

OMG! Can he help?! Danny is drawn to your passion for photography because he loves photography too! He admires your ability to capture the beauty of the world around you, and he often finds him lost in the amazingly well shot photos you took. Almost as good as his photography skills. 

Danny, being a journalist under his alter ego Jed Olsen, understands your creative drive behind pursuing your passion for photography. When you express your desire to open a photography studio, he’s not only super supportive but also is excited about the prospect. He sees this as an opportunity for you to showcase your amazing talent and creativity to the world. He, also, wants to help you start and run your photography business too! 

As someone who appreciates the power of storytelling through images and his articles, Danny will bring up the idea of collaborating with you on various photography projects. He’ll even ask you to photograph events that he’s having to write about so he can publish your beautiful photographs for the whole town to see in his well written top tier articles. 

Danny understands the challenges of starting a new venture, especially in a competitive field like photography (He might be the top journalist at the Roseville Gazette, but that doesn’t mean he became that great overnight. He’s had a lot of practice). He offers his support not only emotionally but also practically, helping you with business planning, networking, and promotion. 

As a journalist, Danny's schedule is pretty busy during the day and also he spends a lot of time with his ‘hobby’ (if you know what I mean), yet, he still finds time to make an effort to prioritize quality time with you (I don’t know how he does it so don’t ask me). He understands the importance of nurturing y’all’s relationship amidst y’all’s respective careers and often suggests going on photoshoot outings together as a way to bond and unwind. Danny enjoys brainstorming creative concepts and themes for your photoshoots.

When you finally open your photography studio, Danny couldn’t be more prouder. He attends the grand opening with a camera in hand, capturing the excitement and anticipation of the moment. He smiles and y’all’s shared passion for storytelling will continue to strengthen y’all’s bond and drive each other to success.

Nubbins Sawyer

When Nubbins finds out that you photograph for fun just like him, he’s excited. Obviously, your photography technique is very different from his and he doesn’t fully understand the artist form of your photography at first; however, he quickly becomes fascinated by the way you capture the world through your lens. He wants to know why your photographs aren’t dark and blurry like his. 

Nubbins often finds himself admiring your work in awe, marveling at the way you can turn the most mundane scenes into something beautiful and captivating. You’ll look over your shoulder and find him just staring at one of the many photos you’ve taken in his hand, unmoving. Who knows how long he’s been standing there admiring your work. Actually, the better assumption is how long has he gone staring at that photo without blinking.

Nubbins spends the majority of his time hitchhiking and looking for ‘food’ heading towards the Sawyer property. He’d enjoy it if you tagged along with him and brought your camera to document your adventures together. Your hobby is a great way to immortalize y’all’s experiences and memories, creating a photo album of y’all’s life.  

Nubbins encourages and supports you. He would point out interesting objects and compositions for you to take pictures of during y’all’s unorganized photoshoots. He’ll also scout for locations or offer input too. 

Nubbins is protective of your camera equipment, ensuring it’s always safely stowed away when not using it. He understands how much your gear means to you and goes to great lengths to make sure it goes undamaged, knowing how much their photography means to you. 

Nubbins often proudly displays your work around the Sawyer house for his brothers to see. He takes pride in showcasing your talent to them and often boasts about your skills to his brothers. When he shares your photographs with his brothers, Nubbins finds himself cherishing the photographs, reminding him of all the moments y’all shared together. Each image holds a special place in his heart, serving as a visual representation of y’all’s love and adventures.

#slashers #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dead by deadlight #dead by daylight #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #danny jed olsen johnson #jed olsen #jed olsen x reader #ghostface dead by daylight #ghostface #the ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface dbd #nubbins sawyer #nubbins sawyer x reader #tcm #texas chainsaw massacre #dbd killer #sophi ghostie writes

[espinosaurusrexex]

Worlds Collide

a collection of works - all taking place within the same universe

BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader apocalypse au

summary: The world is ending. And there are two types of people: The ones that embrace the last pieces of happiness left, and the ones that just don’t bother anymore. When those two clash, there’s no way of knowing what will happen. But maybe, some hopes and dreams aren’t so different after all and the both of them get a chance at becoming more than just acquaintances.

a/n: I had this idea a while ago (in case you don’t remember) but I struggled to make it one coherent story. So here is this instead: a collection of drabbles, one-shots, etc. that can all be read individually. I have some plans and I will gradually be adding little bits and pieces. But please feel free to share your own ideas - I’d be happy to incorporate them :)

warnings (so far): grumpy/sunshine trope, swearing, general death and danger, descriptions of apocalypse, monsters, fluff, a little angst

Playlist (also open for suggestions)

Moodboards | Ideas - send in an ask!

The Trap - introduction

You and Bucky meet under rather… unconventional circumstances

Acid Fog

Much to Bucky’s dismay, you and him are trapped in his hideaway for several hours

Sam, who?

Oh, look who’s joining the chaotic duo

In Another World

After a particularly gruesome attack, you encourage Bucky to dream a little

A Tiny Adventurer

Apline decides to visit a friend

The Artist

Bucky finds out how you spend your time

more to come…

Divider is mine - please give credit when using. I do not consent to my work being copied, translated, or reposted on any other site - if it doesn’t have my username, it’s not me.

Taglist: @almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @supersecretblogformytreasures @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangir1 @simpxinnie @bisexual-buckyfan @blackhawkfanatic @circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv

#megs imagines #worlds collide #apocalypse au #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier x reader

[bemyvalentinechallenge]

The Be My Valentine Challenge 2024

An event from @timecanalwayshealyou

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The Be My Valentine Challenge is a challenge for writers, artists, and just any kind of creator, from the first of February to the 14th!

The idea is to create thirteen smaller, lead-up pieces based on the prompts; for example, ficlets/drabbles/one-shots, couplets, small artworks, individual gifs, et. cetera - and finish the challenge with a larger work; a fic, a full poem, a gifset, a big artwork, whatever sparks for you!

They can be a series or separate, and you're free to change mediums or fandoms for different days. If you'd rather create fourteen small works, or all large ones, or a combination of both, that's completely up to you! Prompts can be used after the event, combined, just do whatever! Only "properly" used prompts will be reblogged to this page, however.

The catch; it's all romance prompts, in the spirit of Valentine's Day and because everyone on this site is single and lonely.

Each day has a quote from an iconic or relevant romance film (The Notebook, Red, White and Royal Blue, The Fault In Our Stars, Pride And Prejudice, etc.), an iconic love song, and a romantic cliché, act, or item.

This account will be reblogging a few works (art, drabbles, ficposts, etc.) from the event tag (bemyvalentine2024) each day. Full tagging rules, the transcribed prompt list, and other event details are under the cut. If you're unsure about anything, send in an ask! Happy Creating!

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There will be an ao3 collection open from the first of February to the fourteenth for submission. Artworks, gifsets, etc. posted to tumblr should be tagged appropriately to be seen as part of the event.

The official spotify playlist for the event can be found here.

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Anyone who completes this event is considered a Valentine, and anyone who participates is a Lover. At the end of the event, a form will be put out, so if you wish to be tagged in a masterpost, keep an eye out! I won't be fact-checking, it's an honour system, so please be honest.

There will be completion and participation badges, too! They're in the works as we speak!

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Tagging System:

event tag - #bemyvalentine2024

prompt tag - #bemyvalentineno1, #bemyvalentineno2, etc.

(Or #bemyvalentinealt1, #bemyvalentinealt2, if you use alt promtps)

the theme or specific prompt/s you chose - #love poems, #quote, etc.

fandom or oc - #stranger things, #original content, etc.

any trigger warnings/nsfw tags if needed

and then your own tags!

Only works tagged correctly will be reblogged to this page, so please take note!

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Transcribed Prompt List:

Day 1: "But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for." Because You Loved Me, Celine Dion | Love Poems

Day 2: "I want all of you, forever. You and me. Every day." A Thousand Years, Christina Perri | Growing Old Together

Day 3: "I fell in love with a world through her eyes." Ocean Eyes, Billie Eilish | Love at First Sight

Day 4: "I'd rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without knowing you." Marry Me, Train | Wedding Vows

Day 5: "My love will keep me from being a lonely spirit." When I Look At You, Miley Cyrus | Long Distance

Day 6: "People do belong to each other, because that's the only chance that anyone's got for true happiness." Home, Edward Sharpe | First Love

Day 7: "It's so nice when you can sit with someone and not have to talk." Sweater Weather, The Neighbourhood | Snowed In

Day 8: "I never wish to be parted from you from this day on." Say You Won't Let Go, James Arthur | Love Letter

Day 9: "You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I'm grateful." Lay Me Down, Sam Smith | Widowed

Day 10: "Hold on, are you writing a song?" I Want To Write You A Song, One Direction | Love Songs

Day 11: "To me, you are perfect." Perfect, Ed Sheeran | Kissing in the Rain

Day 12: "History, huh? Bet we could make some." Love Story, Taylor Swift | Historical Romance

Day 13: "I wish I knew how to quit you." All of Me, John Legend | Making Up

Day 14: "You don't step in love, you fall in. Head over heels." I Will Always Love You, Whitney Houston | Valentine's Day

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#bemyvalentine2024 #valentine's day #writing #fanfiction #art #art challenge #gifs #poems #poetry #writeblr #poetblr #artblr #please reblog #boost

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

thoughts on society but not really

[Hi maggots, it's me, your kind of scarred mascot. I already made a post about the carnage that I witnessed in taking even one step into the ofmd fandom, so I won't go there.]

But at this point tumblr is where I go to for comfort and social interaction so here's me making a post before I pass out with the medications. The sore throat is killing me and honestly it's all a bit blurry right now, so things are gonna be not very clarified. Clarity. Idk.

I don't know at what point reality bleeds into fiction, and fiction bleeds into reality. I suspect not a lot of us do. More importantly, I have no idea what the consequences of that overlap are, and the whole artist from art theory. Like, if trans people get joy from the Harry Potter franchise, where JKR is a transphobic piece of shit, should they give up their joy for no fault of theirs or continue to indirectly support her? As a trans guy, I still find comfort in what the fandom created. Why is everything so messy-

Anyway fandoms, they're all so strange, aren't they? Whole communities with defined roles that also evolve and overlap, fade out and emerge. But physically they don't exist. Or do they? Are fandoms the people/the fans, or the source material, or the fanon material, or the canon creators, or the canon cast/crew/publishers? Which fans are representative and which aren't of the fandom as a whole? Is it about numbers or is it weighed against the intended message of the show and its impact and other factors?

Jesus christ my hands hurt I'm so close to passing out hnngh painkillers are wild.

hello maggots if anyone sees this i'd like a hug and some love, please? *holds out arms*

sending you all love. and comfort. it's a fucked up world. i hope i bring you some joy in it. i know for sure that you all do.

i'll hopefully function a bit more if the illness doesnt get worse, so I'll continue with GO/DW then. Maybe OFMD, though I'll have to see how without damaging my mental health severely. i think i used tumblr too much today i made a fake show and an ad for GO and honestly i do not remember what i did. night night.

#asmi #ofmd #good omens mascot #mascot #fandom culture #fandom #canon #fanon #weirdly specific but ok #maggots #society #separate the art from the artist #valid or not? idk #idk anything #im too tired to proofread this #or read the tags i put #goodnight my lovely maggots

[choicesfandomappreciation]

Choices Spread Kindness Celebration

Welcome to the third annual Choices Spread Kindness Celebration! This event begins on Social Media Kindness Day (November 9) and "ends" on World Kindness Day (November 13). I say "ends" because there's a bonus day to celebrate you on the 14th.

The goal of the event is simple: spread kindness in the fandom by shouting out people who make it great. Sometimes the smallest acts of kindness can change someone’s day.

Event Overview / Themed Days

November 09: Choices Fandom Shoutout Day

November 10: Writer’s Love Day

November 11: Artist's Love Day

November 12: Creator's Love Day

November 13: Fandom Love/Secret Admirer  (Please sign up by 11/4)

November 14: Self-Love Day

Use the tag #ChoicesSpreadKindness when you post

November 09: Choices Fandom Shoutouts! Let’s kick things off by showering people with love!

This can be for anyone: readers, supporters, creators, event hosts, ….anyone in the fandom in any capacity! Let people know they're important to you and make a difference to your time here in the fandom. Everyone deserves to feel a little special and appreciated now and then.

Give them a shoutout here, @choicesfandomappreciation!

Fill their inbox with love and encouragement

Send anon messages of support

Gift them edits, moodboards, drabbles, or anything small that they enjoy to bring a smile to their face

*Just a special note to remember your readers/supporters, make sure to send them love too!

November 10: Writer’s Love Day Some ideas to show your favorite writers some love:

Reblog your favorite stories they’ve written

Share their masterlist with your followers

Send love to their inbox

Give them a shoutout here

Post about why you love them

Share your favorite lines from their fics

Ask questions about their MCs/OCs

Find a new writer to support by checking out @choicesficwriterscreations's extensive database of many Choices books (new and old)

November 11: Artist’s Love Day Some ideas to show your favorite artists some love:

Reblog your favorite art they’ve done

Share their commission information (if available)

Send love to their inbox

Give them a shoutout here

Commission some art (if you can)

Find a new artist to support

November 12: Creator Love Day

This is a day for any other content creators: editors, moodboard makers, songwriters, playlist creators, event organizers, headcanon creators, etc (anyone who does not fall under the writer or artist days that creates for the fandom, even if just for MC / OC challenges/games)

Some ideas to show them love:

Reblog your favorite content they’ve created

If they have a master list share it

Send love to their inbox

Give them a shoutout here

November 13: Fandom Love Day (Secret Admirer Day)

This is sort of like secret Santa but just for kind messages. You do not need to create, buy, or gift anyone anything. This is open to anyone in the fandom (creator, reader, supporter, anyone!)

All that is required is that you write the person you’ve been assigned a kind, encouraging, supportive message for November 13th. It can be generic, but I do encourage you to take a few minutes to look over the person's blog and see if you can give them a compliment specific to them that might be more meaningful.

To participate, message me here (@choicesfandomappreciation) or @lovealexhunt and let me know you want to join. *If there is someone you absolutely cannot be paired with please let me know that too, no judgement and it will be kept private.

On November 5th, I will randomize everyone who is interested in participating and send you one person’s name. On November 13th, send your message to this blog anonymously (@choicesfandomappreciation ).

I will tag your person so they see your message.

Feel free to reblog others’ messages of support and appreciation and add on to the thread.

November 14: Self Love Day (Bonus Day) Some ideas to show yourself some love:

Reblog your favorite content that you've created

Make a post introducing your MC or OC if you haven't already (then, submit it to @choicesficwriterscreations for their database)

Make a post linking your favorite works (recent or older)

Tell more about you (let us know your favorite things outside of the Choices Fandom)

Give yourself a compliment (you deserve it!)

Share your masterlist

Create or do something self-indulgent/spoil yourself

Don't forget to drink water 💛

If you reblog/reshare your work on your blog, feel free to tag @choicesfandomappreciation and I can also share your content here

Use the tag #ChoicesSpreadKindness when you post anything new and tag @choicesfandomappreciation in all posts to make sure they get reblogged here.

Feel free to save this graphic to help you keep track of the days

Please let me know if there are any questions or concerns.

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#choices #choices game #playchoices #choices stories you play #playchoices fandom #choices fandom #choices fandom appreciation #choices spread kindness #the royal romance #open heart #crimes of passion #cfa #blades of light and shadow #just to name a few #all books welcome #pixelberry #ChoicesSpreadKindness

[hexhomos]

HI! hope your day is treating you well, i’ve been interested in doomreed for some time but cape comics are sort of daunting to me just because there’s so much content and i really don’t know where to begin. what do you suggest? thank you!

STRAIGHT OUT THE GATE ill say, read [ "My Dinner With Doom" ] (this is a rly high-qual upload, open it up on desktop!)

It's a key issue oneshot with a lil bit of backstory retelling, featuring a private dinner that happens in the 00's - a good entrance point if you're curious about doomreed in summarization + generally speaking a Real Good Comic overall.

LONG POST INCOMING THIS IS A LONG POST / click readmore

the fantastic four are one of marvel's darling old founding teams so there is pretty much... endless archival, ongoing, multimedia and games content popping up all the time.

They are also kinda one of the rare teams where the growth of the characters is consistent? The kids are allowed to grow older and events from every major run are carried/referenced by the next author so if you want to do chronological there's a lot of incentive and fun stuff.

If you wanna dip your toes into the F4 as a concept, check out:

*the #1 issue of Fantastic Four By Waid & Wieringo (1997) *Mythos: Fantastic Four (2007) [ *The FF (1994) movie that is up for free on youtube!! ] *Fantastic Four (2022) by Ryan North as the current ongoing!

(Some) Singles centered on Doom/Doomreed:

*Fantastic Four (1961) Annual 2 is Doom's original backstory issue *Marvel Two-in-One (2017) by Zdarsky issue #11 & Annual #1 are both crazy good but they spoil big events/conclusions from previous runs if u care abt that!!! (My current fav fic came from these issues.) *Doomgate (novel) by Jeffrey Lang is a good option if you want something that is mostly prose, instead of a comic or movie

NOW BEFORE YOU JUMP AHEAD WITH ANYTHING I *am* following [ this reading guide ] which breaks down specific issues relevant to their relationship as a line through all the different authors over the years.

[ There's also this 2021 guide w/ a few other story/AU highlights! The author said u can send the blog questions and theyll answer too ]

The 'Modern era' (late 90s/00s/10s/Now) Starts with Waid and McDuffie's stuff. The latter wrote My Dinner with Doom!

If you're scared by all the names, don't be - when searching for the issues, just pay attention to the year, # number & author/artist creds.

What I'm reading/liveblogging rn is Hickman's Secret wars era, generally regarded as yaoi ketamine; It's a good epic narrative entrance point if you want to jump into it, and it eventually led into this huge marvel event that changed the multiverse and even brought miles morales into the main timeline, so its BIG and it happened in multiple books - the best way to go about it is;

Pre-hickman:

Fantastic Four (1961) #551 #552 #553 ➡️ (these introduce main ideas we will touch again in secret wars)

Fantastic Four (1961) #558 to #562 ➡️

Doom appears in these too, first/last issues more heavily. Stuff here will be ref'd during the next era.

If you're having fun and want to keep reading you can! Just know that the next storyarc has gathered a largely mixed response bc..... its Millar going hammywammy....... not that necessary.......

anyway when you see hickmans name in the cover STOP and

Jump to actual Hickman secret wars era:

Fantastic Four by Jonathan Hickman: The complete collection➡️

(optional, side plot) If you like Val + Doom, read specifically; *Fantastic Four (2014) #3 & #5 + Fantastic Four Annual (2014) #1 *Agent of Asgard #6 & #7 *Avengers World (2014) #15 & #16

New Avengers (2013) ➡️ check issues on picture, or, if you're a completionist, look for 'Avengers by Jonathan Hickman; complete collection' and skim for the doom/reed relevant bits. There's a lot of characters here but this is a buildup to the big secret wars. Secret Wars (2015) ➡️ (All issues!) Infamous Iron Man (2016) ➡️bendis' doom writing is not very good but hang in there because right after him: Marvel 2-In-One (2017) ➡️ (All issues!) is a banger. Yaoi btw.

You can basically read all the future/past ones as listed, or starting from the beginning of that author's period without worrying, bc they aren't as indebted to each other storywise.

You can also start somewhere else if you want or check out other single issues on the reading guides; It's not a crime! There's a lot of stuff with different takes and genres, I'm slowly chipping away at the secret wars era bc its just very thick and like a serious television drama attempt, except its also insanely funny sometimes.

(I'm still making my way through it so that's what I have at the moment!)

#doomreed #doctor doom #reed richards #victor von doom #marvel comics #reading guide #hexposts #fantastic four #dr doom #mr fantastic #mister fantastic #marvel #meta tag #fic rec