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grippingbeskar · 2 years

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hands off | matt murdock

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (mutual masturbation, mxf intercourse, dirty talk) swearing, established relationship

a/n: okay. OKAY! okay. be gentle with this one because it’s my first matt fic!!! also, i saw this video on tik tok about ppl doing this game thing, but idk who posted it first and i don’t have the videos, but that’s where the dies comes from. also this is literally just smut, don’t even look at me ITS BEEN A LONG WEEK. okay bye. literally posting this and running away to sleep bc i am afraid BYE.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sooo? You like it?” You keep to your side of the couch as Matt brings the glass up to his mouth for a second time. He hums, swallowing and licking his lips, and you have to bite down on your own to control yourself.

Asshole.

“It’s…”

“What?”

“Sweet.” His voice rumbles. You think you should have tied yourself down or something, because there’s no way you can win this stupid bet if he was going to keep teasing you like this. He wasn’t even doing anything, really. Everything he did seemed to turn you on in some way or the other, especially now, as the alcohol starts to kick in, warmth spreading through your face, flowing all the way down.

It was your idea; this whole bet. You and Matt had been together for a while now, and the longer you spent with him you realised how much of a fucking tease he was. So, in your muddied brain, you decided two could play at that game, even though you were almost certain you would fail miserably. You were, however, planning on giving him a run for his money. Or your money, considering how you had both put two hundred dollars on the table for the winner.

The rules were simple. You drink an entire bottle of wine- your favourite brand, hence the taste testing Matt was currently being put through, and sit on opposite ends of the couch. The first one to break - to touch the other in any way, loses. You were notoriously… frisky, when you drank wine, and Matt thought the game was going to be innocent enough until you started popping more bottles.

“Good sweet or bad sweet?” You say, and he empties the glass, holding it out for you to pour him another.

“I’d give it a good 7 out of 10. I’ve tasted better.” He hears the exasperated gasp of shock, and smiles in a way that’s so classically Matthew that your heart skips a beat. He probably hears that too.

“This is the best thing I have ever had. What could possibly taste better than this?!” You pour him another glass that he downs half of quickly, eager to get to the good part.

“I can think of a few things.” Your breath hitches in your throat, and he smirks, taking another sip.

“That feels like cheating.” Your entire body ignites at the shift in mood, and you nearly shiver when his hand trails along the edge of the couch, moving dangerously close to your shoulder, then retreating back.

“Hey, you said no touching. Nothing in the rules about telling you how much I love your-“

“Okay! Okay. I get it. Finish your glass, cheater.” He downs the rest obediently, placing the glass gently on the table, right next to the stack of fifty dollar notes you had pooled. He was smirking - clearly thinking he was already ten moves ahead of you, but you had a couple tricks up your sleeve to win this thing. Well, one trick.

“So, how do you want to do this?”

“What do you mean?” You finish your glass and get rid of it, the empty wine bottles clanking together somewhere on the floor.

“Well, obviously you are going to lose, so do you want to just give up now, or do we have to play this whole little game first?” Typical. Complete confidence, right from the start.

“Listen, Murdock. One thing you’ll learn about me tonight, is that no matter how incredibly attractive you look right now, I am very competitive. Very. Competitive. Especially when it comes to money, because I am also very broke.” He laughs again, his head hanging back off the couch. “Besides, who says you won’t break first?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take you apart from right here.” His voice has dropped an octave. You recognise that tone in an instant. He only talks to you like that, all commanding and a little mocking; when he’s fucking you. Or about to fuck you. Your whole body reacts to him - you don’t even have a choice in the matter, it’s like a bell rings and you’re switched into that mode. All he needs to do is talk to you like that, and you want to get on your knees and forget all about this stupid bet and-

“Am I right? You think I can make you all sweet and desperate just talking to you?” Yes. He could. He knew it, because he’d done it before, but you weren’t ready to give him the satisfaction. Not when the game had barely started.

“Who says we’re just gonna talk?” You settle back, letting your legs stretch just this side of your half of the couch.

“Is that a threat, honey?” The endearment mixed with his slightly rough tone has you tightening every muscle in your body, and if you didn’t get a hold of yourself you might as well just shreds your money now.

“Just got a few ideas, that’s all.” You blink innocently, and he scoffs.

“I promise we’ll do all the things I know your pretty little head is thinking about right now. All you have to do is give in to it.” The way he’s sitting is so cocky; if he wasn’t so fucking sexy you think you’d slap him. Arms stretched out, one dangling over the back, the other strung lazily across his stomach, making a perfect line down to where his legs are spread as wide as possible. You don’t miss how easy it would be for you to slot yourself in to that spot, to be surrounded by him.

“Hmm. Tempting.” He shrugs, almost saying ‘I know.’ “Or, you could come over here.”

“Now why would I do that?” He asks, leaning forward. You start as slow as possible. This was really the only idea you had to get him to break. Maybe if you threatened it, alluded to it enough, he would forget all about the money and the bet and jump on you.

“Maybe I’ve got something to sweeten the deal.” You trail a slow fingertip up your leg, past your knee and creeping it along your thigh. The fabric of your skirt scrunches up as you get higher, and Matt’s head straightens when he hears it.

“What are you doing?” Still, his voice is that low, gravelly sound that sends shivers up your spine, and you bite your lip to stop a smile before answering him.

“You know how wine makes me.” He knew very, very well, being the object of all your wine-induced fantasies. “I’m all hot, and if you aren’t going to help me…”

“Don’t.” He practically growls, and you let out a breathy laugh as you use your other hand to pull up your skirt completely. He may not be able to see you - but he knows exactly what your doing and how your doing it. He can hear the way you’re moving, the skips in your heartbeat as your finger trails higher and higher. The smell of you, how it changes as you get closer to the wetness between your thighs. He knows. And he looks like he hates it.

Jaw set, he grinds his teeth as you ignore his simple demand. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you touching yourself - he loved it; encouraged it, even, but he wanted to be there for it. Involved in it. If you ever needed that specific kind of relief, he wanted to be the one to give it to you. Even on the few times he’s been away, he’s sent you videos, called you and made sure he was the only one who pushed you over the edge. His name on your tongue as you came to the thought of him, to his words or his pictures. He always wants to be the one. And he always is.

He also has never not been able to touch you, because if you knew one thing, it’s that Matt Murdock was not a man that shared what was his. Especially not you, even with your own hand.

“Stop.” Matt manages to say, and you hum, relishing in the attention he’s focusing on you. You spread your legs a little wider, making yourself comfortable. “That’s cheating.”

“Nothin’ in the rules about touching myself, Matty.” You breathe, and then gasp as your finger brushes over your most sensitive spot, still covered by your lace underwear. “Unless you want to come over here and make me stop?”

“I know what you’re doing. You’ll have to try a little harder than that, sweetheart.” His face is set so hard, like how you’ve seen him in the court room. Focused, not betraying a single emotion on that sweet face of his. You were going to wipe that stoic look off his face one way or the other.

“I’m gonna take these off.” You narrate, hooking your fingertips under the seam of your underwear, and start to slowly pull them down your legs. As you get about halfway, the fabric bunching over your knees, you sigh sweetly. “Help me out, baby?”

He exhales in a short, sharp laugh. He wasn’t technically touching you, and you both knew it was the closest he could get without forfeiting. Leaning forward, he used one hand to grab the part of your underwear not touching any skin, and starts pulls them down. The soft material slips over your shins and calves, and you know he’s going slow on purpose. You lift your feet up so he can remove them fully, and you watch intently as his thumb brushes over his new prize.

“The purple ones?” He recognises the fabric and you moan out a ‘mhmm’. “My favourite.”

“I know.” You let your legs fall open again, and you could of sworn you heard a small sound come from him at the movement. A crack in the ice. It ignites your confidence, and makes you want to keep going. Keep pushing. “Wore them for you.”

“Such a good girl, all the time. You wouldn’t be this mean. Not to me, right?” The words were sweet as honey. You loved when he spoke to you like that - with praise and a little bit of authority. It made you squirm, but you had to hold it together a bit longer. String him out a little further. You just moan again, your hand finding it’s destination, one finger running up and down in between your legs, brushing over your clit lightly. Just how he teases you. You see his face change. “You’re going to regret this.”

“But it feels so good, Matty.” His grip on the back of the couch tightens.

“Better than me?” You shake your head vehemently, appeasing his ego and moaning a negative incase he can’t figure out your answer from the sound of your movement.

“Nothin’ better than you.”

“I know, baby. Why don’t you let me take care of you? Come just a little closer, and I’ll make it all better.” Your toes curl, and you start to make small, tight circles right over your soft centre, nerves alight and sending shocks up your entire body. His voice is all you’ll need to get there, you just need him to keep talking.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” Your jaw falls open, no longer able to hold it together. “Just want you so bad.”

“If you want me so bad, come here.” His tone is a little more demanding. Frustrated. Stubborn. Another crack. You resist the urge to smile.

“Will you- will you tell me? What you’d do if you could touch me?” He sits up, unzipping his pants and shoving them off aggressively. His erection is impossible to ignore, and your mouth waters at the sight of it when he pulls his boxers down and lets himself free.

“That’s what you want? You want me to tell you all the things I’m going to do to you when you break?” You don’t miss the cockiness in his words, but you just moan again, too lost in the feeling of your fingers against your clit. “Fuck. Okay - okay, slow down.”

You listen, obedient even when defiant. He can hear the sounds of your hands against your arousal slow to about half the speed, and the orgasm that was growing in your stomach is now only being stoked, your legs jolting every time you brush against your clit.

“Good fucking girl. I always go slow first, don’t I?”

“Mhmm.” You moan out, and he chuckles. The fucker was laughing at you. Pay back was going to be a bitch. You were really about to give in, then. Not now, though. If he was stubborn, you were going to beat him at that game, too.

“That’s it. Nice and slow for me. Want you all warmed up when you make yourself cum on my cock.” Oh. God - maybe you couldn’t outlast him. It was those kinds of words, sung to you in a voice so low and clear it was impossible to listen to anything else, that was what did it for you. What undid you every time. Fuck being stubborn.

“Oh God, Matt. Please - c-can I go faster?” He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, and you are mesmerised as he pumps his hand just once, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You can go a little faster. Since you asked me so nice. I’d do it for you.” You speed up, the fire in your tummy getting more aggressive as soon as you indulge the feeling. He pumps up and down once more, and his face screws up a little. Not in pleasure entirely, but something a little uncomfortable. At first you think it might be the situation, but then you look down, and recognise his problem. Your submissive side instantly takes over, your brain only knowing to do what you knew he wants. What he needs.

“You want me to help you, baby?” Matt swallows as he feels you get closer, but nods just once, taking his hand off himself. You hover above him, making sure he can feel the heat of your breath kissing the sensitive head of his cock as you angle down closer. God - what you wouldn’t give to wrap your mouth around him right now. You miss the taste of him - the feel of his hand threaded through your hair, how he tangles himself into it to feel the most of you that he possibly can.

Slowly, you let your spit drip down his length, alleviating the uncomfortable feeling of his dry hand. He doesn’t move, just lets you take your time getting him as wet as you are. Matt’s chest rises and falls so fast you think he might pass out, and his head is hung back so far that you can’t see his face from this angle. You bet it’s screwed up, and his mouth is open a little. He always looks so good when he’s strung out.

You start to retreat, careful not to brush against him as you sit back on your half of the couch, satisfied with your work. His hand wraps around his cock as soon as he feels your body heat move away, and the pain once etched on his face is replaced by only pure pleasure. The sight of him has you quickly returning your hand to your pussy, matching the pace he sets.

“Thank you.” He croaks out, and you silently high five yourself for how fucking ruined he sounds.

“Your welcome.” You sound exactly the same.

“God - I want to fuck you so badly right now.” He sighs, moaning your name as he starts pumping his hand harder, hips bucking irregularly. “You know it’d feel so good.”

“It would. You always fuc-“ You cry out as a wave of pleasure suddenly hits your chest, the new rhythm he was setting on himself having you seeing stars. “Always feel so good. Miss having you inside me.”

“Come here. Now.” He says through his teeth, and you just keep moaning out his name. He tries a new approach. “Baby. Baby, please come here. I’ll -I’ll let you cum so many times you won’t remember your fucking name. Just give it up already. I know you want to.” A new crack of determination nuzzles its way through the overwhelming pleasure at his words. Maybe it’s because it’s not actually Matt touching you right now that you are able to form a thought, but his words have you speeding up. Let you come.

Asshole.

“Fuck, Matty. I’m so cl-close - I think I’m gonna-“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He almost shouts, hand pumping furiously at his cock as he cuts you off. It almost looks like it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but the sounds of his hand moving against himself with your spit is making your brain go fuzzy. Trying your best to keep up with him, your back arches off the couch and you turn your head to the couch cushion.

“Can’t stop, feels too good I just-“ The burn in your arm is secondary to the release you were chasing, and it was so close. You knew what you needed. He had gone silent, because he knew, too. If he spoke, that would be it. He had such a hold on you that all it would take would be a few well placed words and you would crumble in front of him, and for the first time, it was the last thing he wanted.

“Slow down. Right now.” Your back was arching off the couch, and it was an effort not to stretch your legs out. Bunched up on your end, your eyes were glued to Matthew, his abs flexing hard and free hand still fisting the couch, white knuckled. “Do not fucking finish without me.”

The tone of his voice was so low and harsh, he wasn’t meaning to but he was only making it worse. Teetering on the edge, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from talking.

“I wish you were touching me right now. Your hands feel so rough sometimes and I always think about it, think about how good it feels on me.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, the words flowing out of you from the darkest parts of your tipsy mind.

“Baby just-“ His hand gets faster, you can hear it, his restraint snapping little by little. “You just gotta come over here. Please.” You try to block out how hot he sounds begging for a glimpse of you, so you keep talking yourself through it, thinking of the things he would say if he was fucking you.

“I want you to fuck me through this couch, make me feel you for days like you always do. Want you to…” A gasping breath cuts you off, and it takes you a moment to regain your focus, the pleasure nearly cutting off your air supply making you hiccup.

“Finish your sentence. What do you want?” He was sitting straight up, leaning so close that if you moved and inch you’d feel him. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted him to touch you as badly as you wanted it right now - and that was fucking saying something.

You’d give it one more minute.

You think you can hold out for that long. One single minute of keeping yourself on the edge, one more minute to see if you can break Murdock like he breaks you every time. If you reached a minute and he wasn’t either buried between your legs or inside of you, you think you would implode.

“I- I want you to fuck me like you did when you came home last week. Leave a mark so I could feel it for days and-“

“That’s it. Keep fucking talking.” Your eyes open for a second and he’s kneeling, the hand on the top of the couch right next to your head. You hadn’t even heard him move, but now he was practically hanging over you, almost between your legs. Maybe your words effect him just like his do to you. “You sound so pretty. Keep talking for me, okay?”

“Matty, please just touch me. I need you to mmmmfuck- make me feel good.” He chokes out a desperate sound, and you shut your eyes again, no longer able to bare the sight above you if you couldn’t touch him.

“You need me?” You whine below him, nodding and making sure he knows just how bad he was right. It was a low blow, one you knew would make him even more desperate. Those simple words always got you what you wanted, no matter how long he had been playing with you. “Yeah, you fucking need me. Just need me to touch you so bad. Mark you up. Bet you’d cum as soon as I slid inside you, huh? Already so wet, I can fucking hear it.”

“Need you. Please.” You wheeze, and hear another choked sound leave his mouth. The couch shifts underneath you. Every nerve in your body was begging for him- you were begging for him, a string of pleases mixed with his name. If only either of you was less stubborn this stupid game would have been over long ago.

“You sound good like that. Begging for me. Keep going, tell me how bad you need it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want. Whate- Whatever you want. Just please. Please, please, please…” You sounded like you were having a tantrum, so close on the edge you were almost sobbing his name in ecstasy.

This was it. It probably hadn’t been a minute but you just couldn’t hold out any longer. Fuck the bet, fuck the stupid money. Nothing was worth not feeling him, having him just out of reach, you were so fucking close-

Matt’s hand brushes against your cheek, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear, and his thumb wipes away a tear you hadn’t realised had fallen on your cheek. It was soft; gentle.

He kisses you softly, and his hand takes over the work, replacing your own and keeping that hard, tight pace on your clit. The feeling was earth shattering - the difference between your hand and his somehow night and day, and when you kiss him back, you realise he just lost. He lost, not so he could fuck you, but so he could kiss you.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Hm?” He murmurs, the hot air of his breath fanning over your forehead as his hand works at you, and all you could do what sob his name. “Cum for me. I earnt it.”

With that, he slides himself inside of you, and everything turns white.

“Fuck - yes.” You moan out and your cumming as soon as he hits the deepest part of you. He’s suddenly everywhere - an arm under your arched back pulling you against his chest, his mouth on yours muffling your wrecked moans of pleasure, his cock buried inside of you, hitting you hard and fast and desperate; just how you feel.

He isn’t far behind you, giving you exactly what you wanted and finishing inside, so deep you’d feel him for fucking weeks after this. He was making noises you’d never heard from him before - nearly whining with how much he needed you, his whole body tense as you ran your hands over every part you could feel, while your other hand scrunched into his hair.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Is all he was saying into your mouth, fucking you - using you to get through his high while simultaneously working you through yours. His lips moved to your neck, biting and kissing you all over. It was borderline territorial, and you were a whimpering mess underneath him, pinned to the couch taking whatever he wanted to give you and praying for more.

His hips eventually began to stutter in their pace, then slow to a stop- minutes or hours after he came. Time hardly registered, just him finally surrounding you like you’ve been wanting.

“Matt. Matt-“ His mouth was still attached to your neck, and you couldn’t imagine what you looked like, but it filled you with a sort of pride. You almost wanted him to keep going, but you wanted him to kiss you more, so you tugged on the strands of hair threaded in your hands. “Matt. You-“

“I know, baby. Don’t move.” The words echo through you, the command exactly the one you said to him earlier. He slowly slips out of you, never taking his hands off your body, and in one movement curls you up and pulls you completely to his side of the couch.

Finally, you can stretch out, your muscles like jelly as your legs tangle with his. Your head leans back to rest against his chest, which is still rising and falling too fast for normal. Admittedly, so is yours, as well as the occasional twitch in your legs from the pleasure dissipating through your body. Strong arms wrap around your chest and tummy, holding you tight, and he leans his head down to kiss your cheek.

“We are never doing that again.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, and you laugh breathlessly.

“You didn’t like it?” He groans at your question.

“Baby, I fucking loved it, but I hated not being able to touch you.” He was whining now, and your hand snaked up, scratching lightly through his hair. You think he would of purred if he could. “You’re mine. Don’t like it when you try to come without me.”

“Mmm. You were too far away.” You agreed.

“Was hot, though.” You laugh again and he switches sides to kiss your other cheek, forcing you to look to the other side, where your eyes catch on the significant stack of money.

“I won.” You whisper into his ear, smiling, and he groans again.

“Stupid game.” He grumbles, teeth scraping lightly along the top of your shoulder, making you shiver. “Still made you cum.”

“We can always have a re-match.” He was still mumbling and groaning against you about how dumb the idea was, but you can feel his grin as you laugh.

“I got a different game in mind.” He whispers into your ear, and in the next moment you are in the air, being swept up and carried towards your shared bedroom.

“And what’s that?”

“How about I show you?” He kicks the door closed behind him, and lays you down on the bed slow and sweet before making true of his promise and destroying you from the inside out, just like he always did.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matthew murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock x oc #daredevil #marvel #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock smut #matthew murdock x y/n #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #charlie cox x you #charlie cox fanfiction

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whataperfectwasteoftime · 10 months

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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

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live-laugh-lenney · 4 months

Text

interruption | arthurtv

hello!

not very good as following a routine or any kind of schedule so the posting of my writing will be rather sporadic... i do apologise but bear with me on that.

here's one that i've been working on for a couple of weeks, from a request that was sent in to my inbox, so i hope that whoever did ask me to write this enjoys it. let me know what you think and don't hesitate to send in your feedback or send in any ideas that you want me to write.

thank you! love to you all!

enjoy. x

Cosy.

That’s how she would describe Arthur’s flat.

Cosy and very him.

All open plan, with his kitchen melding with his living room mixing with his dining room, but so warm and inviting. A knitted throw-blanket folded and draped over the back of his sofa, that he always said was for show but he never scolded YN when she unravelled the fabric and threw it over her legs when she was curled up beside him, or took it to his bedroom when the nights were too cold for just a duvet and his radiating body heat. Books, labelled from fictional titles to nonfiction titles and autobiographies through to encyclopaedias sat on shelves attached the the walls of his living room, with photo frames of him and his family and wax burners filling in the gaps that melted scents of cinnamon and spiced orange, succulents draped down and in witty plant pots that his friends would buy him for Christmas. Lamps in every corner of his main living space because he felt that the main lighting was much too bright, especially for evenings spent at home with a good book that he’d brought from the bookstore on his outing into the city centre, or too bright for an evening spent at home watching a television show he’d been recommended to watch by one of his friends.

Where her flat was more in the centre of London, closer to where she worked in an independent coffee house which definitely challenged the Starbucks and Costa’s that were close-by, she became used to the sounds of passing cars and honking taxis and the distant sound of the overground squeaking on the rails as it approached its destination. The hustle and bustle of tourists passing by the entrance to her flat complex, shops on her doorstep, in an area that was full of high-rise buildings and overlooked a park that she spent many of the summery days sat in, with a picnic from Waitrose and a good book and with Arthur, enjoying the time together. So being in the part of London that almost instantaneously switches off in the middle of the evening, once everyone had travelled home and everything had shut up shop for the night, felt almost peaceful to her.

She much preferred his living space to her own…but she was sure that it was the feeling of being in the same vicinity as him that warmed her more than being in the flat itself.

On the evenings he would film with Alex and George and Cam, for a Chaos Crew video that seemed to be in high demand, she found herself dillying around his home and finding things to do until he was finished for the night. If it wasn’t cooking them both a dinner to eat once he was done, it was reading something from his ever growing collection of novels; and if she wasn’t reading a book, she was logging into his Netflix and watching a film to pass the time and, if she’d had a busy day and felt her eyelids sitting heaving, she would curl up and take a nap on the sofa until she was woken up with a soft kiss to the forehead or a gentle nudge into her thigh to wake her up.

But there was something about that evening where she just wanted to be near him.

They’d both, surprisingly, had days off that coincided with each other so they spent the day together and they came rarely and not very often - taking it in their stride and making the most of getting to spend quality time together.They went shopping down the strip together and spoilt the other whenever they saw them looking at something for a little longer than normal, they popped into her coffee house for a cream cake and a coffee and to say hello to her friends who were working that day, they went food shopping because his fridge was a little scarce when it came to ingredients for a dinner that was substantial and they shared a late dinner together where they sat at the dining table with a candle and some fizzy apple juice to impersonate wine because neither of them fancied a drink that night. But she knew their time together was inevitable and she couldn’t help but look at the clock as she counted the minutes down till he said he needed to film a new video - and she couldn’t complain because, well, she had spent the last twelve hours with him.

But, twelve hours just didn’t feel like enough.

She hated using the word clingy when it came to her relationship with Arthur but… she felt clingy.

Across the space of his living room, she swerved the sofa and dodged his furniture and tucked the blanket a bit tighter over her shoulders as the gentle breeze of her movements blew it from the bare skin showing for her t-shirt - well, not her t-shirt but Arthur’s t-shirt, yet she claimed it as her own and he couldn’t say no to her when he thought she looked beautiful in his clothing - and she made her way down his hallway to. Goosebumps on her legs as she left the warmth of the sofa but they soon disappeared as she got closer to his office door, accustomed to the chill in the air.

“You know when this guy is telling him to tone it down that he needs to take it down a level,” she heard Arthur remark, a gentle snicker following in suit.

“Uh, yeah, looking a little bit like a geek there… might want to tone it down,” George’s laugh came next, followed by a chorus of cackles and snickers from the other guys sat on the Discord video call.

“He’s got a fourth badge that’s just homophobic,” her boyfriend retorted back and at that, she rolled her eyes and an unsure smile on her lips because of the emphasis on the last word of his sentence.

She could hear that whatever they were watching on Youtube had been unpaused, ready to carry on before they took another break to add commentary content to the video, and her hand halted over the door handle to his office. Shuffling on her bare feet, the wooden floor of his hallway was cold beneath the pads of her toes, and she just couldn’t figure out the right time to poke her head into his room and ask him just how long he was going to be. She didn’t want to be a bother but the longing-for-him feeling, that sat low in her belly, was becoming a bother to her.

“It is kind of cute. I actually do kind of rate it, like being your own superhero and that… but it is the kind of thing you grow out of when you’re like six,” Arthur stated.

“Yeah, you’ve got to go as something recognisable surely, right?” Alex questioned and there were some gentle hums of agreement throughout that she probably would have joined in with if they were all sat in a room together and discussing that specific topic, “if you’re gonna go as anything at all.”

“What did you go as to Comic Con?” Arthur wondered, asking the question that everyone was thinking; “I went as Obi Wan Kenobi,” came Alex’s response and he was instantly met with silence. YN could just imagine the smirks and the grins and the laughter that were almost bursting to come to light from the three guys sat there, taking in everything they’d heard.

And YN took the chance.

The door handle squeaked as she applied pressure and the door creaked as she opened it, poking her head into the room, met with the sage green wallpaper of his office and the dim lighting filling the space that he used as background lighting - because he still found his main light to be too bright when filming his Youtube videos. He turned in his seat and let his eyes adjust, smiling upon her arrival once he saw her full figure standing in the doorway, the screen illuminating the side of his face and he slipped his headphones from on top of his head and down to his neck.

“You okay, lovie?”

“Just wanted to know how long you were going to be,” she hummed softly, almost too quiet, but she didn’t want to interfere with their recording because then he’d have been there even longer than planned, “I was gonna have a nap on the sofa but I won’t if you’re not gonna be too long.”

“I won’t be long, no,” he said, “there’s not long left of this video. Give me twenty minutes?”

“I’ll wait up for you,” she smiled, “mind if I just sit in here and watch? Promise I won’t make any sounds. I’m a bit bored out there on my own.”

Arthur smiled warmly at her, letting his eyes wander up and down her body as he took in her comfy appearance, holding up his pointer finger as he turned back to face his monitors and slid his headphones back up his head, setting them back on his ears.

“Guys, YN’s here.”

She could hear the muffled cheers through his headphones from his announcement and she grinned shyly, tightening the blanket around her shoulders, and she closed the bedroom door behind her before shuffling across the carpet. He gave his thighs a pat, inviting her to come and sit with him for a brief few minutes, and she quietly took him up on that offer as she blushed and nodded. He situated himself a bit more comfortably in his chair, unplugging his headphones so she could hear what was happening and moving any lingering wires so she could settle herself down on his lap without pulling any screens off of his desk. Curling up under his arm and bringing her knees to her chest, covering herself with the blanket draped over her shoulders, releasing a content sigh. She wasn’t bothered by her appearance on the screen because she knew he wouldn’t include any of what was happening, without her permission, in the final cut on Youtube.

“How have you been, YN?”

“I’ve been good, yeah. Ready for a sleep but you guys just had to come first tonight,” she smirked, feeling Arthur’s hand tuck beneath the t-shirt hanging down her frame, his fingers tickling up her side in a relaxing and comforting manner, “I feel I haven’t seen you guys for weeks.”

“You haven’t actually,” George remarked with a hint of feigned annoyance, a similar smirk sitting on his mouth, “spending all your time with Arthur now, aren’t you? Taking him away from us. We’ll have to fight for custody.”

She rolled her eyes with a grin and dropped her head into the curve of Arthur’s neck and his jawline, inhaling softly and breathing in the faint scent of cologne still left on his clothing, his arms tightening around her.

He was warm.

So warm.

His hands wouldn’t leave her skin. His arm stayed tight to her waist and his fingers traced soft circles into her hip, just above the waistband of the knickers that dug into her skin, and his free hand kept in its place upon her knee and he gave her a squeeze every so often.

“I’m letting you have him this weekend,” she hummed, “Platform Roulette, no?”

“I only get him when he’s drunk and annoying,” George frowned playfully, “you get him when he’s all cute and soppy. One can only dream of that interaction, used to have it all the time.”

“YN’s cute and soppy also so they’re practically a match made in heaven,” Cam cackled and YN felt the heat creep up her neck and settle across the expanse of her cheeks, “look at you guys, it’s just adorable and it makes me feel sick.”

“Cam, oh my god,” Arthur laughed, “you guys suck.”

“We love you both really,” Alex smiled, “you know we do.”

honestly, ending a story just isn't my forte... i just hate every ending i write.

anyway!

if you got this far then thank you for reading. means a lot to me that you've reached the end. please let me know what you think and don’t hesitate to send me any ideas you may have for future fics. my ask box is always open so don’t hesitate to send anything in.

lots of love to you guys! thank you! xx

#arthurtv #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv fics #arthurtv headcannons #arthur frederick #arthur frederick fics #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick headcannons #chaos crew #chaos crew imagines #chaos crew fics

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oracleofstars · 1 month

Text

✦ 3VOLS : ISSUE 1, RAFAYEL

Featuring @maimochies, a well known Love & Deepspace author, as the spotlight creator!

IM NEW, WHATS "3VOLS" THE MAGAZINE?

This will serve as a "mini masterlist" where we compile links of works from different creators based on the character. And yes, its not limited to fanfiction. This is open to artists, graphic design/gfx creators & editors. (Basically, if you've created any kind of creative media related to the character)

MAIMOCHIES. WHO IS SHE?

mai is a rafayel enjoyer and a love & deepspace author! she has been writing in her corner of the internet with the pretty rafayel themed blog. have you seen her around? well, we have interviewed her recently with 4 simple questions. let's get to know mai better!

what got you into making love&deepspace content? are there any creators who inspired you to do so?

mai : funny enough ages ago when the first demo trailer came out for love and deepspace I didn't even know about it!! I happened to stumble upon a short clip of zayne and saved the video on a whim because he was attractive >·< then, as fate would have it, the game's official trailer popped up on my fyp and I got hooked, downloaded the game and haven't looked back since <333 l&ds is still new to the tumblr scene but I absolutely adore my mutuals' takes and fics on the boys!!

as a rafayel fan—what is your favorite headcannon of him? this can be your own or others

mai : hmmm… I think my favorite headcanon about rafayel is that he secretly cares a lot more than he lets on. lingers outside your apartment to make sure you've gotten home safe, always sending you a goodnight and good morning text, oh so conveniently shows up with a warm ready made meal when he knows you're having a particularly hard day, he cares deeply but he's scared of showing it.

if you could describe your favorite character with 5 words, what would it be?

mai : a gift from the stars

how is your time in oracle of stars so far?

so much fun!! it's such an honor to be part of such a loving and positive community. while I'm not as active as I would like to be I can see the effort that goes into the network and the server, from the graphics to the events. it's such a special place for l&ds creators to come together and uplift each other

RECOMMENDATIONS FROM THE DEEPSPACE NETWORK

welcome to the rafayel masterlist, find something that piques your interest here! show some love to our creators as well <3

l&ds boys crushing on you - @ maimochies

affectionate headcanons - @ maimochies

how the l&ds boys kiss - @ maimochies

sing with me? - @ sevvynth

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞. - @ jqnehr

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 - @ jqnehr

birthday celebration - @ lovexdeepspace

l&ds boys + their nicknames for you - @ lovexdeepspace

JEALOUSY , JEALOUSY! - @ rafyne

MESSAGES I CANT SEND : DEAR RAFAYEL

recently we had a 3VOLS related event entitled DEAR RAFAYEL, where we send out a prompt every 7 days and you have the choice to use whichever one you wanted.

POST MASTERLIST

dear rafayel ( prompt day 1 ) - @ rafyne

dear rafayel ( prompt day 3 ) - @ sweetheartsaku

WHAT ELSE IS HAPPENING?

its april 5, that means our applications are open until april 10. come join us in the discord & the network. this first issue is finally done, thank you for all the support you've given the oracle. we'll see you again next time!

#🌠 - notification #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader #zayne #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace fanart #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader fluff #love and deepspace xavier #rafayel #rafayel fluff #xavier #xavier x reader #xavier x reader fluff

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thisoneblackjacket · 1 month

Text

🎬 NOW IT'S TIME FOR...

Eddie's notes hour!

I just wanted to take a closer look into all of the notes that we see on Eddie's desk within the hidden video + some input/speculation on them

...

1. Starting with the gift list:

I went into it a bit in a previous post, but I think(?) I now have the full list down (w/some help from others from that post) :

Julie - Chimney Cozy

Frank - Bug Catching Net (?)

Wally - Apple

Howdy - Calculator

Poppy - Doilies (still unsure about that one)

Barnaby - Bones (?)

Sally - Mirror

I will say that these gifts seem very fitting for everyone, but between the few questions marks next to some of the gifts, along with Eddie's doubts about Julie's and Frank's gift in the vid:

Sounds like Eddie HIMSELF is unsure if these gifts will work. It has the same vibes as trying to shop for someone that you sort of know the interests of, but not much else

Which sort of amplifies that he isn't the closest to any of the neighbors (seemingly he only gets to interact with them when they need something from him), so this might play more into the theme of Eddie being alienated from the rest of the neighborhood

...

2. Moving on to the grocery list:

Okay so I'm still struggling w/a few words, but I think it goes as follows:

Grocery (I think?)

Envelopes

Pencil

Construction Paper

Paper {Lined} (I think?)

Eggs

Milk

I don't have too much to say here, but it is a bit interesting that Eddie has to buy supplies for his own business from Howdy. I always figured that another reason why Howdy disliked Eddie was because he might have sold his own paper/stationary items at the post office, hence competition, but maybe not

...

3. It's TIC TAC TOE time!! ❌⭕

Now I am not about to begin to try to count how many games he played through that you can see on the screen (you can't make me!)

BUT, given the scoreboard:

Eddie (his left, I'm guessing the ⭕s): 4...?

Eddie (his right, I'm guessing the ❌s): 14

That's at least 18 games by itself, can you imagine how many if you included the draws ?!

Poor Eddie...

But listen - I'll end this post with something that has been scratching at me - Tic Tac Toe as a potential symbol in the story

Now I don't know HOW significant Tic Tac Toe is to WH, but I think it is significant.

Does anyone remember this post back in October, during the Halloween update? The one where OP had put this one tic tac toe game over the map? (go check it out)

I really do think that's a solid lead towards something big, and it was actually one of the first things that popped in my head when thinking back to this.

But even if it turns out it isn't, Tic Tac Toe has been showing up from time to time via drawings/surroundings, which is already enough to at least consider it moving forward

So here, while it makes sense in context as to why Eddie is playing the game a bunch in the video (waiting around for someone to show up with nothing better to do), and all this can honestly be a stretch, but to have him specifically play THAT game, after its been shown to pop up that often...makes me suspicious for sure...

...

Either way, this has been...

Eddie's notes hour!

(seriously, I'm not good at making title names)

#welcome home #eddie dear #welcome home arg #welcome home spoilers #welcome home update #welcome home speculation #analysis

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

Note

OKAY OKAY SAGAU BUT THE CREATOR IS A HUGE KPOP FAN LIKE IMAGINE THE MOST STOTIC CHARACTERS DANCING TO TWICE

ANON I HAVE SEEN UR ASK SITTIN IN MY MAILBOX AND BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE-

GOD IM SO BASIC ANON I ONLY KNOW LIKE 2 SONGS BY TWICE (LIKE "FEELS" OR SMTH POPULAR), I KNOW A LITTLE MORE ITZY, BUT MY MAIN'S JUST BEEN BTS SINCE 2019😭

(send me recs pleassseeee ;-;)

Hey this'll be the last time I use colored words for characters!

I think it's a bit too distracting, and the only reason I was using them was to let ppl know if their fav was in there, but now I'll probably just use CW/TW to mention character heavy asks/fics :)

Thanks for being patient with me for so long if ur still reading my stuff :0 <3

Listen as you read?

EDIT 1/1/24: Hey I expanded more about this on my Eldritch Fanfic Part 2 post, but unfortunately I did a form of exoticism by including the term "Huangdi" inappropiately here. I have since replaced it with "Emperor" as was the original untranslated term I would've used. I'm genuinely sorry that I did this, and will absolutely be on the look out/do better in the future. I hope you can understand.

----

AGONIZED OVER THE GIFS THIS TIME THEYRE SO PRETTY AND I WANTED TO GET THEM DANCING ONE OF THEIR CUTER ERA/THEMES ALL DRESSED UP TOO-

also im so sorry?? Idky i was in such a scenario mood today??? Ig im in my exectutive dysfunction paralysis state so maybe that’s why, like it unconcoiusly wants me to waste more time not catching up on uni work??? anyway, hope u like this chaotic addon 😭

or i just love this ask sm, that’s entirely possible too <3

I JUST NEED YOU TO KNOW I PUT ON A MEGA TWICE PLAYIST WHILE WRITING THIS ENTIRE THING LMAO

ok but they’d totally heard ur music tastes thru the screen right?

like just imagine-

the video game music is normalized, and to them its just another one of those “all kinds of magic in teyvat” causing the music, like the seelies wandering around all the time or elemental energy

Jean is flipping through a folder filled with the reports for the week, she’s got to get the routes ready for the week, then there’s the liyue shipments the knights need to help escort over, then checking in on any of the emergency stations/rations throughout Mondstadt for weary or hurt travelers/merchants-

She sighs, and yet another irritated thought is thrown Varka’s way in her mind, she can’t even muster the energy to make it outright dislike she’s so tired…

Jean was so concentrated she just now is starting to hear the Favonious Headquarter’s music once more, it’s peppy upbeat tune… grates like nails on a chalkboard.

and if she has to hear that damn flute for the next hour she works, she’s going to start banging her head onto her desk.

♤

Out in Jueyun Karst, Xiao is dealing the finishing blow to a flying ruin hunter

He’s huffing and stabs his spear into the ground to lean on and catch his breath, the gentle music of the peaks begins to float around him once more

The Yaksha feels the earth beneath his feet shake. Not like from his Lord, not the other adepti angered, but an enemy so large it’s stomps shake the ground he stands on

Xiao quickly straightens less he fall over, pulling his spear out of the dirt with a little more effort than it probably should’ve taken…

The high sounds of the guzheng trickle through the air, a perfect representation of the base of the slopes, trees, streams, and nature all around him

Xiao turns to face the enemy behind him, his arm popping with tired joints,

…A ruin grader, two ruin hunters, and finally regular three ruin guards, follows it. they come around the corner of the bottom of another slope, and they're still simmering with black smoke, curling off their metallic shoulders.

Xiao sees several red targets layer over his chest,

the music fades a little, but sticks around, plucking strings gently. Xiao sighs, exhausted already.

♧

Kazuha and Beidou had to redirect the Alcor from a nasty storm at sea that intercepted their usual route between Inazuma and Liyue,

the storm had practically chased them further and further down form the Inazuman islands

it wasn’t until Kazuha, from the crow’s nest, spotted fog on the waters that they realized they’d be forced to go into said creepy fog, what with the crackling looming clouds at their backs pinning them in

“Not good Captain, the fog is miles long, I’m not sure I can see a way around it…” Kazuha calls down to the deck, Beidou letting out a sharp sigh through her nose

“Damn… fucker’s not even sentient and it practically backed us into a corner, feels like we literally gotta escape the damn thing… BRACE YOURSELVES CREW, WE’RE HEADING INTO THAT FOG!”

The Alcor makes it’s way into the fog, a piano swells with a strange tune…

Beidou, Kazuha, and the crew know to listen to the music of teyvat, especially if you have a life at sea, where storms can appear in the middle of the day or other pirates could attack any moment.

The music means nothing good, but at least Kazuha can see the storm staying at the border of the fog, moving no further in, unlike themselves

“Shit… see anything up there Kazu?” the Captain steering the ship doesn’t even reach a shout, for the music has creeped out all conversation on board

“No ma’am, wait,” a chill breeze brushes through the wanderer’s white hair, he feels goosebumps jump on his neck and spine,

“…Yes! Portside Captain, land, no enemy movement yet!”

“Alright, here goes a bad idea…” Beidou’s arms flex as she easily turns the heavy wooden wheel, steering left,

the Alcor gently comes ashore, and they make anchor.

…there are no enemies, like Kazuha said, but the tune worsens, it had gotten louder now that they’re actually on the theme’s land

It plays slowly, encasing the crew of the Alcor in a paranoid quiet, and it almost has a melancholy note

Crows caw and fly off of a stone gate up ahead, they can see flickers of a strange blue light further inland, like figures carrying lanterns everywhere they go…

“Damn music, I wouldn’t feel half this anxious if it didn’t sound like we were walking into a monster infested cave…” the first mate says, the first person to break the quiet the music held over them.

“Yes, while we might need to stay here for awhile, I think we’re all very aware how dangerous this is…” Kazuha agrees, crossing his arms and squinting at the moving blue lights… the piano plays on.

☆

You open on Spotify on your computer, clicking on your favorite kpop playlist, it’s been rainy all day, so you need the peppiness of this dance playlist to actually not be half-asleep playing Genshin-

You hum along to the Korean lyrics as you boot Genshin up, ugh, ur in-game music is so loud, u forgot u turned it up last time to hear the new Sumeru music…

Turning it down, you let the Kpop songs fill ur headphones as you nod to the beat, your team materializing on screen. Right, off to do commissions first!

♤

Jean is like.. seconds away letting out a scream of frustration, anger, tiredness, loneliness, etc. her hands clenching her hair and ruining her ponytail when, thank Creator, the theme quiets down finally.

The loss of her immediate ire gone, she lets go of her hair, her hands just kind of hovering midair, not knowing what to do with herself, all the negative emotions giving her face wrinkles just melt off, leaving her stunned, blank face behind

🎶 Dalkomhan chocolate ice-cream-cheoreom Nogabeorineun jigeum nae gibun so lovely! Kkamkkamhan uju sok gajang banjjagineun Jeo byeol jeo byeol geu yeope keun ne byeol 🎶

Acting Grand Master Jean actually screams when abruptly a song in an unrecognizable foreign language, blasts into her office, around it, filling the entire Favonius Headquarters with its… cheeriness??

Jean lets her hands fall onto the desk, still in shock

..well, she quickly decides she’s grateful for the new music either Barbatos or the All-Parent had heard her pleas for…

…actually, it’s kind of,, catchy?

Jean takes out her ponytail, massaging her aching scalp, huh, she really did have it tight she’s just now noticing, she feels a small smiles appear on her face,

she actually kind of wants to do something now (she kind of hopes this new foreign bard song sticks around..)

♧

If you asked Xiao what happened in that battle he’d be hard pressed to tell you,

without going completely red in the face. LMAO

He probably wouldn’t tell the other adepti this, especially Cloud Retainer, but Xiao had definitely had to get used to fighting brutal battles to the sound of gentle summer day-esque music

Right as the aruguably, army of ruin machines spotted the Yaksha, he’d launched himself into the air to try and evade the rusted beasts, aiming his jade spear, adding winds to swirl around the staff to better boost his attack, the machines warm up, their targets moved and locked onto him midair, right as both sides launch their attack-

🎶 Geogi neo I fancy you! Amuna wonhaji anha Hey, I love you (Love ya!) 🎶

Xiao nearly falls out of the air.

Quickly recovering, he uses his anemo power to propel himself off to the side dodging, he swears to his Lord and his Emperor himself, delayed attacks, as if the machines were caught off guard too,

missiles whiz by him, exploding behind, the peppy song of foreign women’s voices sings out into Jueyun Karst bright and happy-

🎶 Geurae neo I fancy you! Kkumcheoreom haengbokhaedo dwae 'Cause I need you! (What?) 🎶

Xiao’s face goes from being confused to concentrated throughout the rest of the battle, and the worst part… it actually helps his energy levels.

and he finds himself nodding along

☆

Kazuha takes the lead, his sword unsheathed and at the ready to cut down the slightest movement before it can get to any of the crew behind him,

He’s flanked by the Captain of the Alcor herself, Beidou’s electro shield emitting a deep hum as it blocks in front of both himself, and the crew behind him

all of the pirates have unsheather their own weapons, daggers, swords, claymores, bows, their all on high alert, waiting for.. well, any enemies at all.

In fact, Kazuha hopes he sees hilichurls soon, just for the familiarity it could give him and the his crew-

the music begins to fade away.

The crew stops just shy of the entryway that was perched with crows before they scattered, the white fog hasn’t moved beyond its lazy drifting, but the creeping sounds have stopped entirely. Not good.

Captain Beidou sighs after a few silent moments, other than the quiet breathing and shuffling of weapons from the Alcor crew.

She lets her claymore sword thunk against her shoulder, and just as she opens her mouth, turning to address the all, deciding camping here will have to do for the night-

🎶Fancy! youu, ooh Nuga meonjeo johahamyeon eottae Fancy! youu, ooh Jigeum neoegero gallae Fancy! ooh!🎶

Kazuha’s shoulder shoot up to his ears in a flinch, red eyes wide, he barely stops his reflexes from taking a hard swing with his sword, several crewmembers shriek, collide with metal clinks into one another, Beidou drops low, her sword swinging off her shoulder into almost a full swing at the ground-

…

…..

……..

🎶 Dalkomhan chocolate ice-cream-cheoreom Nogabeorineun jigeum nae gibun so lovely! Kkamkkamhan uju sok gajang banjjagineun Jeo byeol jeo byeol geu yeope keun ne byeol 🎶

the music plays on, the only one making any noise as the entire Alcor crew just, stop. after their initial shock.

Kazuha’s the first to break.

He desperately tries to contain a quiet chuckle, which turns into a giggle, which turns into a full-on wheeze, as he buries his sword into the ground to brace himself on it and one of his knees

the Captain cracks by the time Kazuha wheezes, her laughter going straight to guffaws and knee slapping, her claymore shaking the ground where she stabs it to lean against

the crew erupts into laughter, both as the peppy foreign song echoes into the mysterious fog, and Beidou’s ridiculous laugh, as always

they don’t recover until two songs later when there’s finally a slow kpop song, Kazuha’s had to sit down, tears streaming down his face, Beidou’s half-dead, wheezing out complaints about her stomach, as the crew keep sending each other into more and more laughter right as they think they’re done.

They decide their Akitsu Mikami must have the best sense of humor and must just be sitting on their celestial throne pranking some of their subjects from time to time, and the Alcor crew find themselves all the more appreciative for it, their nerves entirely gone about the island

Kazuha and Beidou are constantly asking other bards they meet to try and see if anyone can recreate the song for the crew sometime they liked the beat and the memory so much, Fancy by Twice will still get a laugh out of Beidou and Kazuha, and they’d quickly let you in on the inside joke so you’d be a part of it too (afterall you did it lol)

♡

NOW MORE IMPORTANTLY, BC IDK IVE BEEN ON A SCENARIO KICK LATELY?? SORRY IDK WHY U GUYS KEEP GETTING SCENARIOS-

There’s only TWO 2 CATEGORIES THAT MATTER HERE-

◇

Who’s DANCING!! w/o u needing to do anything but play the music:

NILOU (she got those choreos done in like, an hour flat everytime u teach her, shes always begging for “just one more dance lesson Greatest Lord? 🥺”),

YUNJIN (difference betweeen the two dancers is that nilou asks :) → yunjin lowkey demands, she like always gets u into a situation where you have plenty of time to teach her and feel obligated, u just got gaslight gatekeep girlbossed into teaching her another kpop dance LMAO), they also see it as they’re (literally) god-given job to dance better than any idol you’ve seen do it before, esp when they recruit groups of other dancers to join for group choreos

Yoimiya! cutie #1, CHILDE, amber, eula, ITTO, bennett,

Collei (but shes shy u gotta encourage her),

Diona (cutie #2),

FISCHL (would form an actual group to dance all the choreos like a real kpop group),

Gorou (shy #2, needs encouragement),

Kazuha (tbh I think he’d have fun and be weirdly good at it, fem or masc dances),

Ayaka (shy #3, needs encouragement and would rather die than dance in front of ppl other than you),

KLEE CUTIE #3, NAHIDA CUTIE #4,

Qiqi (but u gotta teach her slow bc she needs to memorize it, and also it takes her a bit to write down the dance steps in her journal so she doesn’t forget as much),

Razor (another person i think would just have fun with it! also he’d do it but it would be very, aggressive? like making finger hearts but violently shoving his arm out at ur face lmao),

HEIZOU (shutup he’d actually be good at it and brag- and flirt at you-),

Aether (shy #4), VENTI, xingqiu, xinyan, KAVEH

BARBARA (she literally stalks u around Mondstadt all like “oh hello your highness! just happened to walk by you and was wondering if you heard any new of those “kpop” dances, you know I’d LOVE to show it off at my next show-!” like she hasnt been a block behind you the entire day 💀)

♡

WHO YOU MANAGED TO CONVINCE TO DANCE LMAO-

babygirl Wanderer (he literally surveyed the area before he finally let u teach him any moves, and refused to any sort of dramatic moves, like fem or masc),

Alhaitham (but only like a small part of a guy group choreo like a bit from God’s Menu or smth, he was too lazy to do anymore even for u lol),

Cyno (dammit some of these bitches look way too good doing even girl group dances-),

Diluc (u got him to do like, a pose. LMAO and he saw Kaeya in the distance and quit immediately LMFAO),

Kaeya (but it didnt take much convincing, if anything it just took forever to teach him, he’s talented in footwork for swordfighting but apparantly not dancing, at least not modern dances he tripped so much ur convinced he did it on purpose at one point so he’d fall into your arms again lol),

Ganyu (super shy, wont do it around anyone but you, and maybe Shenhe),

speaking of Shenhe (she just took awhile to teach bc she wanted to stay upright a lot, kinda stiff),

Keqing (once again, another who’d only dance when it’s just u two lol),

Yae Miko (she just wanted to learn the whole choreo that’s what took so long… and now she’s making comments like “My goodness, my god wants me to dance for them? They’ll even show me how? Oh, now I must do it perfectly so I can satisfy you, my Kami.” STOP TAKING THINGS OUT OF CONTEXT UR TEACHING EVERYONE-),

Ayato (he’s acts so theater gay he refuses to do anything but the girl group dances/fem dances lol),

SARA (easy, give her ur strongest, saddest pout and she cracked like glass, u got her to do a whole dance with u/she actually got into it too, its her secret guilty pleasure now lol),

Kuki (did one sort of move then got BARRELED OVER by Itto’s crazied boy group acrobatics he likes so much, u know the backflips over each other type of ones? yeah. ),

Ei (the god herself/not the puppet, catch her never doing that lol, she tried but didnt, get it? she’s also pretty stiff, but she looks like she’s having fun so u just keep teaching her moves, and she likes that its you teaching her something new),

Thoma (shy #5 ? idek what number we’re on anymore lol),

TIGHNARI (u nag that bitch so hard he nearly throws a drink at you to get u to stop bothering him- NO he does NOT think those dances would suit his ears- dammit he wont do that dance, no matter how much he likes you- DAMMIT MY LORD-),

Xiao (if u thought nagging Tighnari was hard, this is like nightmare mode, not only does he not wanna do the dances, but he also wants to understand WHY u want him to dance each and every move- !! bc he would “look cute or cool”?!?!!?!!! …yeah he’s gone, he went so red u cant even get him back with tofu),

Zhongli (would like, be so confused on how to make his body do that, that he ended up just sort of posing, at least he looks cool)

♡

(anyone not on these 2, u did, in fact, not manage to convince, yes, even if their god asked them to, nor are they doing it of their own volition lol)

WHAT THE HELLLLLLL-

THIS IS SO LONGGG IM SO SORRRYYYYY

ANYWAY HOPE SOMEBODY LIKED THIS, DW ILL STOP THE WEIRD SCENARIOS AFTER THIS ASK I JUST GOT IN A PHASE I DONT KNOW WHY

also, im like, three weeks away form graduating uni? NICE, soon i will be free to assault u all with responses mwhahahaha (rubs my little gremlin hands together)

Safe travels,

💀 ♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk

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yonpote · 4 months

Note

as someone who wasnt here at the time (was a fan from about 2011-2013) what exactly defines the "softlaunch era" pre-coming out that i hear you and others refer to?

you've come to the right place cuz this is the era when i truly became a Phannie... "gay softlaunch" is generally considered 2017-18, but to be more specific it was october 31, 2016-june 13, 2019!

before they came out this was also referred to as "post-baking universe" referencing the halloween 2016 monster pops video that had an (at the time) abnormal amount of raunchy humor and just general derangedness. nothing like it is today, but that point felt very significant and dan even brought it up in liveshows like yeah idk what happened there and when phil called a peach an ass in a gaming video dan said "we live in a post-baking universe" (i believe fans coined the term tho).

people have also called it the "glass closet era" which is a divisive name for a lot of people cuz "glass closet" can be seen as kind of a mean term and it implies like, stereotyping or speculating or the "we been knew" behavior dan had talked about in BIG. which i understand that feeling, but i don't think that's what was happening, because the way i see it was queer flagging. ways they could show a little bit who they really were without saying it just yet. they weren't Out out, but they were just like. openly talking about attraction to men and finding men hot and not calling it a Man Crush or anything. dan would bring up queerness more often in liveshows, which hes mentioned queer artists and stuff before but now it was also making jokes about like.. being in a gas leak man porn fantasy in his first livestream of 2017 LMAO. phil would make a lot more innuendos, which hes always done, but now he wasnt pretending like he didnt know what he was saying. dan started wearing a single hoop earring on his right ear. this is an old school form of queer flagging, in The Olden Days (im too lazy to look up when but like my 70-something year old history teacher knew about this) if a man had an earring on his left ear, he's straight, and if he had one on his right, he's gay. that one's pretty subtle if you don't know much about queer history and there were Great Debates over whether or not we should take it to mean he is gay, but personally i saw it as like. he was letting us know without needing to say the G word out loud just yet!

i think a really important part of this era was even outside of directly discussing queerness, they were both trying to become more authentic online and figuring out how to do that without compromising their own privacy. dan stopped straightening his hair and rebranded and opened up about his mental health. phil's authenticity journey seemed a bit slower and wasn't as overt or seemingly drastic as dan's was, but it was happening! he changed up his hair!!! which yes its kinda silly to talk abt dnp's hair but the emo fringe was Their Brand. phil in particular said that, the emo fringe was a comfort place but he was feeling like he was trapped in having it forever because it was Who He Was, so it was a huge deal for him! he opened up a little bit about his physical health, both of them were a bit more honest about all the stress and anxiety they were dealing with (the mukbang is a pretty good video where they talk about that and an interesting one to watch in retrospect) and their whole 2018 tour was themed around whether they should Give The People What They Want or do what they wanted to do.

god i talk too much ANYWAY then dan disappeared in 2019 and phil was manning the helm for a good five and a half months and then the Big Gay hit! the Hard Launch Era if you will :) and now i would say 2023-present is the Unhinged Era so i have no clue what the hell their next move is gonna be...

#ofc there were also signs before 2016 'wtf even is your sexuality'#but at that point there was still a veil over everything ykwim?#myrambles #also sorry im such a phillie i like barely mention dans authenticity journey BUT I JUST FEEL LIKE #IVE TALKED ABT IT A LOT BEFORE SO IDK WHAT MORE I COULD SAY #softlaunch

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neth-cactus · 3 months

Text

iiiii ummm uhhh little drawings from the fic cus i fixated on my own writting jabsjwhdhe i have a looot to talk about so i will do it under the cut, the fic link will also be here

my girly pop, its weird posting stuff on ao3 but like shes there, the whole fic is me posting random little stuff i wrote on a whim so it will be noticeable dhbfjsjd also warning I might have made everyone a biiit out of character so im kinda sorry lols

now for fun notes and stuff about the chapters i did not add to the end notes

"The sun shines bright" not much to not other than after this clover's hand hurt for like a day and flowey bullied the peck out of them,,, also this is the only time flowey calls clover an idiot on this fic

"The flower pot incident" after the end clover spends like 10 minutes explaining everything about flowey, but he explains it like a little kid would, making it confusing as hell, so ceroba gives up and just like pats him and tells them to be good or smth, it was the same with everyone else

also bad quality comic of how the pot came to be

"What kind of milk were you?" the song came in as i was finishing the chapter and it fitted so well i named the chapter after it, as i mentioned it was me like poking gently to clover's life before the underground, his thought process was mostly thinking marlet was angry at them over doing the dishes in "secret" idk how to explain it but yeah :( poor little fella, also as noted at the end, flowey observed all happening and just like kept in mind

"Sewing back the pieces" I loved imagining how clover's room looked, and i had to include it, more joking around from the best friends, id like to think clover knows how to sew but they are just a bit clumsy with the needle, also those things are slippery...

"The calm before the mall" I feel proud about the title pun(? but this is also what i kind of meant with flowey keeping things on mind, by the time of this chapter a bit of time has passed of them living with humans, and flowey knows how stuff can be and how clover is a biiit shy so thats why the warning was persistent, it didnt work but meh

"Fertilizer is a fun word" IT IS A FUN WORD i love writing it lol, but seriously, i tried exemplifying more the thing of clover not speaking a lot so flowey does most of the talking for them, they do speak a bit but its short sentences and very quietly,

"You are just a boy, you are no man" this one will be long again the song fitted and it came on while writing the middle lol, clover does not know very well about the whole story with chara, but they do know that buttercups are meaningful in some sort of way for flowey so thats why they picked them, now is fun to note that the comments about their friends being monsters did bother clover but the one comment that like spilled the cup was the age one, that one hit deep and thats why they reacted that way, also the amount of people did not bother clover that much when they arrived but like the panic and stuff made them very aware of everyone around and med everything worse so ye, lastly, another time flowey calls someone idiot, this time dalv (sorry king)

i think thats all, if there's a specific choice yall are curios about feel free to tell me :3 i will probably have an answer for it

#neth draws #neth rambles #this post deserves it loll #undertale yellow #undertale yellow clover #undertale yellow flowey #undertale yellow dalv #undertale yellow starlo

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kumezyzo · 9 months

Note

literally love you for all the streamer!reader hc cus no one else really does it 🫶🏼🫶🏼 (pls do more for my well-being ill beg 🤧)

hehe. first thing that came to mind was the creation of everest. so here you go. fem!reader

i was so incredibly sleep deprived and in a random holiday inn express in colorado/kansas when i started writing this. so its my brain basically on crack trying to describe harmonies in my cellist little peanut brain 😭😭

i also assumed this anon wanted bf!sapnap... and im sorry if thats not the case. just pretend i never wrote any of that.

anyway, enjoy! or dont... :) m.list

bsf!dream who asks you to harmonize on the vocals with him.

"its like barely an octave higher," he tells you as you stand infront of the microphone. you roll you eyes and adjust the headphones on your head.

"its barely an octave higher," you say, mocking his voice.

"yea and then its higher on the second 'coming down' and keep it high but flat," he says easily.

you stare at him with furrowed eyebrows as you think over his words.

you sigh, "i hate being your friend."

bsf!george who teases you when he hears your vocals added to the song.

"oh my god, yn's singer era?" he grins at you. you groan and shove him playfully.

bf!sapnap who hears your raw vocals and just feels like a proud bf that you stepped out of whatever comfort zone you had to sing in dreams song.

when people hear the take with all four of you, they can actually tell because of your voice.

during bsf!dreams promotion for the song, he posts on tiktok with the title 'yn not singing and stalling for three minutes'

its a compilation of you talking and pacing around the studio, prolonging a groan, and insulting clay as much as you can. and saying obscenities into the microphone, obviously.

"im hungry, are you guys hungry? we should go get some food....and not come back-" "ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"clay, youre a bitch." "clay, i hate you." "dream is a bitch, sub to me-" "so high like im on acid-" "i thought nick and george were supposed to be on this song too."

bsf!george who complains about how much you and sapnap were pelting him with snowballs during the music video.

"for some reason they gave them all to sapnap. and he gave half of them to yn," george said recalling the semi-traumatic events. "and both of them throwing them were so painful."

on your own stream, you talk about the behind the scenes of the music video.

"shes [amouranth] actually such a cool person...i was about to leave nick for her-"

"what you guys didnt see after nick popped the champagne, was that he proceeded to point it at me and completely drench me in it," you say pursing your lips in annoyance. "and it didnt even taste good!"

"they asked me to join this little pillow fight right here," you said pointing at the screen. "and instead of hitting kaitlyn, i went around and smacked the fuck out of george. but you can barely see it."

"i really hope they didnt get that energy drink on the carpet..."

bf!sapnap who suggested you getting in a bikini like the other girls in the music video.

you look at your boyfriend blankly, "your such a perv-"

i liked writing this. thats it. -nony

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #dteam #sapnap x y/n #anon #sapnap x streamer reader #asks #streamer reader #sapnap x streamer #dream team fluff #dream team crack #sapnap crack

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single-malt-scotch · 8 months

Text

Bdubs' speech patterns & quirks

i made a post a while back about Bdubs' typing habits and ya know what. ill be a little stupid obsessed and unhinged again and do this one. might be useful for fics.

been watching this man from day one and im trying to throw together everything i can in my head. he really hasnt changed that much if we arent considering a shift of humor and energy-- but i will regard it at certain points for clarity of how his speech is handled.

General speech pattern

Through time Bdubs has gained more energy in his voice, and more confidence in how he speaks as a person presenting in his videos. But he still has his quirks, quirks that have remained forever.

biggest one. There is a big habit of stuttering in some sense. Either on the same words with the intended phrase:

Example: "You-- you don't- you don't understand!"

or a phrase that is altered during the stutter:

Example: "Yeah but-- you-- I don't think you get it..."

They aren't the stutters people default to in most cases (no "y-yes" "i th-thought.." etc-- in *some* cases you can throw this in but i suggest the bigger ones and never make it too frequent).

Theyre long and very obviously, and make him take longer to get his words out. sometimes it cuts his train of thought and he stops his sentences, maybe even starts over entirely.

in addition to that, bdubs also cuts words in a way i think most people will- goin', gonna, thinkin' etc. however at times he will enunciate the whole word for effect (plays into his "exaggeration" described below)

With his awkward pacing and stumbling, there are times where he fumbles and might say something in a "weird" way. sometimes, it becomes purposeful! he'll keep doing it when its funny, but you can tell its more of a slip than on purpose at first. there are far too many examples of this, but its obvious that he picked up the funny way of saying 'hermitcraft' on purpose at a certain point, for example. this may be hard to get across in writing however and its not as important.

bdubs loves to exaggerate. personality wise, hes like this obviously. and it plays into how he talks. boisterous is the best word. dont be afraid to go hard on the exclamation points or question marks! "!!" and "??" may describe what you want when you need to imply more of his noise.

Exclamations, regarding swearing

Bdubs doesnt swear anymore, but its worth addressing it, in context to what... replaces it, in a sense. or if youre writing something based in the years when he did swear.

Lets get one thing straight. bdubs does not say fuck. like, even back when he swore. there may have been some very light instances of words slipping (the old video where he completely bleeped out his words may have likely had that) but it is not how he spoke on the regular.

bdubs' most used 'bad' words were "damn", not as often "ass". he used a lot of 'safe' words-- shoot, crap (crapper, directed at someone/thing), frick (fricker, directed at someone/thing), dang ('dang man'), freaking (this is exclaimed very strong when it comes up, as if he was saying "fucking". comment phrase "very freaking funny!")....

these are the most frequent choices. id say bdubs has the capability of more swears, but it would be a last resort/under extreme duress.

Other notable phrases

Some of these fall under 'exclamations' at times, but i wanted to address the phrases he says in response to things, one subject is what people like him say in place of things like "oh god". you can see this in some hermits too, but bdubs does not say "oh (my) god". there is no exclamation of "god" when he needs to say something like this.

some are more or less frequent in the overall timeline, but you will likely hear...

"judas priest!" "oh goodness!" "oh jeez/jeezer!" if there is any phrase regarding god its a sorta "dont use the lord's name in vain" situation. none of the "oh god" stuff.

in terms of other frequent phrases,

"Trying my heart out/off" pops up a lot, and it means that he is trying hard at something whilst also saying he is 'putting his whole heart into it'.

Older/less frequent these days:

the good ol 'pet names'. it is/was never a super frequent thing (that bdubs/etho ooge video was surprisingly frequent...) "sweetheart" is most likely, "baby" but not always in a 'pet name' way, just a casual word to throw out at nothing. might get a "darlin'" in there too. the instance of calling someone specific those things is not super common, but still important to note.

a final notable one is "boy", directed at others in a more like. jokingly stern way. "What are you doin' boy?" a direct aim at a person, perhaps in a (joking) accusatory way at times? (wanted to comment there was an early ooge instance where etho picked it up as well lol). and imo i saw this way more in the early days, less so now.

Conclusion

bdubs has a variety of expressions in his speech. generally very relaxed and sometimes even careless, hes not tryin to focus too hard on every word he speaks. which is only natural! imo i think his personality is what affects this more than anything. hes silly, extroverted, and acts first.

his 'loudness' and stutter is important and it can be hard to express through words. outside of the way you describe the way he tackled talking in fics, seriously dont be afraid to double those punctuation marks imo. definitely dont be afraid of those big 'stutters'!! its probably the most defining part of his voice imo. i hope this is useful and feel free to add on or ask about it!

#bdubs #bdoubleo #hermitcraft #hermitblr #bdoubleo100

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kai-anderson-whore · 1 year

Text

The evans (what they're like drunk)

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

Tate Langdon:

okay so I feel like tate would be so fun to get drunk with

•until he thinks of something sad then your his shoulder to cry on

•you'll probably end up crying too

•but besides that he'll play nirvana on repeat and will make you dance with him to about a girl

•you will definitely make out at Somepoint during the night

•that's the type of friendship you both have

Kit Walker:

•now kit is a pretty relaxed when he drinks which in my mind is probably like a few beers at night once the kids are asleep

•I'd imagine him with a record on probably elvis or sinatra sitting on his chair with you in one arm a cold beer in the other

•he'd be more loving when he has a drink or two in him placing kisses on your shoulders telling you sweet nothings

•just blissful

Kyle spencer post- death:

•now as we all know Kyle is a frat boy so he'd be a mess if he's completely hammered

•but he's the responsible one so that doesn't happen often

•he'd make sure your safe and that his frat brothers don't do stupid things

•but if he get so drunk he'd be like "y/n do you know how much I love your cute face" with smoochy lips 😘😘

Jimmy darling:

•we've seen it in the show he has his moment when he's drinking

•like tate one minute he can be happy singing songs that pop into his head without a care In the would to being all sad or angry if its missing his mother or just something stupid that pissed him off

•his hands will be all over you without a doubt he's a horny drunk

•you would tell him no if you are sober but if you drank with him then your going at it all night let's just say

James patrick march:

•Now as we all know james likes his whisky and absinthe and being dead he could literally drink anyone under the table

•he doesn't get wasted probably thinks it's distasteful but he did a few times before and let's just say he's a helpless romantic even drunk

•would literally shower you with live and affection and if you don't let him he's a whiny bitch

•"darling What's the matter please hug me" "James you reek of booze" "this is an outrage"

Rory monaghan:

•Rory will bombard all his social media platforms with videos of a night out like he would post every detail of the night

•instantly regrets it in the morning when he's hungover

•will definitely do weird dad dances and would want you to join him so he's not alone

•I feel like he's the type of drunk that would need to be on one of those backpacks kids have so they don't run away because the second your eyes leave him he's off and it will take ages to find him

•he would be one of those drunks that ask so many weird questions no one knows the answer to like "how are humans actually put on this earth it doesn't make sence"

(Kai Anderson)

•Now kai would stop drinking because he needs to stay sharp for the cult but if he's having a very bad day he would drink his problems away or fuck his stress out of you

•he's an angry drunk for sure would constantly snap at anyone in sight and throw glasses in the room

•if your there you could possibly calm bim down sometimes it's a no go but you try your best

•would definitely try and get into your panties but you say no because well he's drunk but kai is consistent and will not take no for a answer

(Jeff pfister)

•Jeff wouldn't drink since he's always off his tits with the coke but he might mix them both on occasion

•he would blackout not remember a single thing at all

•probably would make out with mutt since he's completely wasted

•would wake up the next morning with mutt not remembering a thing which freaks him out because he could had probably committed a crime and he wouldn't know but you were there the next morning with a photo gallery full of videos from the night before

(Austin sommers)

•Now we all know austin likes his alcohol but he also likes to still be fully aware of what's going on around him

•but once in a blue moon he would get hammered which he would never be away from karaoke singing all the cheesy hits like cotton eye Joe or barbie girl

•once your both home he would ask you to pamper him with face masks and what not, so you both lay on the bed with a face mask on some more whisky laughing and joking (I think this could be a fic?)

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aj1dordinary · 6 months

Text

GRWM to participate in a life or death brawl!

platonic!Johnny Cage x platonic!gen-z!reader; neutral!Kenshi Takahashi x neutral!reader; platonic!Raiden x platonic!reader; platonic!Kung Lao x platonic!reader; platonic!Lui Kang x platonic!reader

@one-green-frog @whore-of-many-hot-men xox

thank you guys for showing love to my very first piece! i look forward to providing you with as much content that i can pump out! now that i’ve essentially finished the general background info, I’m gonna try to follow the storyline as closely as possible while also developing the lore for !reader. bear with me pls! don't know about any relationships taking place, but that may change. anyway, enjoy! xox

“hey guys! welcome back to my channel! as you all know, johnny and i decided to take a little vacation in between some of his big projects. that doesn’t mean that you miss out on all the action though so here’s a quick little get ready with me in this rehab facility he checked us into!” you poke your tongue out and shoot a peace sign to the camera before turning it around and showing the beautiful scenery of the monk academy.

“y/n! check this shit out!” johnny wails, he began showing his improved skills by throwing punches at a wooden dummy and with an uppercut, knocked the head a good 5 yards away.

you whistle and track the trajectory of the dummy head with your phone. you’d managed to ration out your battery life despite filming and posting an abundance of johnny’s new life of martial arts.

johnny runs over after to see the video for himself and as you play it back for him, he notices someone looking on with great disdain.

“kenshi, man! I’m telling you, if you wanna piece, all ya gotta do is ask.” he makes a show of it by flexing his arms and posing as if he was back on the red carpet.

kenshi rolls his eyes and lets out a puff of air, “i dont want anything you have to offer, john.” he crossed his arms and turns his attention toward the other guys that lui kang recruited to be the power rangers of earthrealm.

you learned that kung lao and raiden were their names. you had to stop johnny from getting himself cancelled as he tried to make references to Godzilla when the men clearly were not of that origin. but they were cool people, you’d have to make a mukbang with them one day for sure. you paused, realizing you were no better in terms of geography.

“oh really? not even sentō?” speaking of being an antagonistic asshole, johnny removed the sword from his back and waved it around, trying to perform swift and severe moves as a ninja would. he made it a goal to make the sounds as well.

you just stood at the ready, phone already recording and the sound picking up the popping of bubblegum in the background. a week in and you traded in your black flats and pantsuit for the same training attire that the guys were wearing. you were by no means throwing any punches, but you’d be damned if you didn’t match for aesthetic purposes.

kenshi stopped in his tracks, “oh i think you done did it now, johnny baby…” you twirl a curl of hair between your fingers, lowkey focused more on the rippling muscles and raging testosterone that put itself on display for you.

“now, now. if there is gonna be a brawl of any sorts, its going to be the one that decides who our champion of earthrealm will be.”

“ahhh, the all-knowing, all-powerful always has such perfect timing,” you coo. “what’s hopping kangaroo?”

“ah, i’ve been managing the behind the scenes of the competition. making sure all is in order for whomever our champion will be.” he smiles genuinely before bowing before you out of kindness. you would be rude to not return it.

“which is totally going to be me.” kung lao says affirmatively before throwing his makeshift razor-hat. it passes just over your head before getting imbedding in the side of a building.

“watch were you throw that thing! you kill my assistant, you replace her!” johnny pokes at his shoulder.

“nice to know that you value and care for her…” raiden chips in.

“word.” was all you said in agreement.

“right…” lui kang claps his hands together, looking over the lively bunch in front of him. part of you wonders if he was beginning to regret his choice in heroes.

“as I was saying, today is the day. whoever comes out victorious in the matches will be earthrealm’s champion and will go on to battle against outworld warriors to defend the title. we will start with johnny and kenshi.”

“y/n, watch me beat his ass real quick.”

“best 2 out of 3?” you say as you join lui kang on the sidelines. he simply nods.

“round 1… fight!” you say before banging the gong.

“beat his ass, johnny! wooooo!” you jump and cheer from the sidelines.

“finish me johnny cage~” a robotic voice chimed from your phone. the sideline goes silent before you mutter a quick “oops” to check what the fuck just happened.

you’re accidentally livestreaming. the voice being someone who donated. well, gotta get paid someway. you turned the phone back on the action, watching as donors flooded the chat, saying how sexy johnny looked when he was fighting and the whole nine yards.

“chat thinks you’re so cool right now. don’t disappoint!”

and how could he? with a swift uppercut, kenshi called it quits for the first round while he regained his balance and strength.

“you’re not done yet johnathan carlton!” you call. he runs over as you take a gatorade bottle and squeeze the contents into his mouth and a little bit on your hands before smacking the shit out of him. “you get out there and you finish it!” he nods without a word before bumping your fist. when he turns to get back in the ring, you deliver a swift slap to his ass for encouragement.

“does that actually help?” raiden comments. he wouldn’t lie, he was tickled by the nonchalant relationship you and Johnny exhibited.

“nah. he just has a really nice ass.” you say, body language unwavering.

it definitely wasn’t helping. he was getting his shit handed to him this round. so much so, he tagged you in.

“whyyyyy am I here! i’m so quitting after this!” you scream as you block many of kenshi’s attacks. johnny, who claims he is just taking a breather, now acted as cameraman as he and the chat giggled at your attempts to evade kenshi.

lui kang had a smirk on his face as he watched the growing potential in you. Despite your obvious fear, you were evading kenshi’s offensive moves quite diligently. He eventually spoke with the goal to guide you.

“compose yourself, y/n. you’re bouncing all over the place, use that momentum for something else.”

you were desperately running out of air from running around the ring, but you couldn’t let up or else kenshi would deploy his frustrations about johnny on you (mmmmm). despite your fear, you heard lui kang’s voice and man, does this god have a voice of reason. you had to obey. so you placed your trust in it and stopped before quickly ducking.

In doing so, you felt a gust of wind fly over your head, surely a devastating blow from kenshi. you then turned and blindly threw a punch. surprisingly, you made contact, square in the middle of his chest. he gasped for air as the assault caused it all to exit his lungs and drop to his knees. he looked up at you with a fire burning in his eyes. you did not wait to continue and tagged johnny back in.

“now who’s the kangaroo?” lui kang smiled.

“you must think you’re so funny.” you respond, completely stale-faced.

johnny ended up losing the second round, before recovering and winning the final round. quickly though, he was thrust into battle with kung lao where he lost.

“a brawl between old pals,” you start. “how you feeling kung fu panda?” you put the camera directly up to his eyebrows on a 0.5x setting, getting an insane shot of his forehead.

“first, you’re no better than johnny,” you gasp. “second, i’m feeling really confident.” he finishes.

“and you ray ray?” you proceed to give him the same media coverage.

“i’ve been waiting for this day for a while.”

“oh he’s so gonna beat your ass”

and you should’ve bet money on it too as raiden came out victorious.

“so these outworlders, they hot? mutated? what exactly should we be expecting God-Almighty?” johnny asks but not without you delivering a swift elbow to his side for his crudeness.

“outworlders do have an enhanced strength compared to humans. some also have powers like me.” lui kang demonstrated with his possession of fire.

“so what’s raiden got that can go up against people like you.” kenshi spoke up, finally seeming over the bitterness of his loss earlier.

“i am always prepared. raiden, i bestow upon you the element of lightning. i ensure that it will aid you tenaciously. i am certain earthrealm will remain in good hands with you.” He hands the amulet over and raiden immediately demonstrated his new abilities by electrocuting the shit out of some training dummies.

“ok one, he just literally roasted the fuck outta y’all and two, can he charge my phone with this new ability.”

“can you be serious for one moment?” kenshi grumbled.

“oh im sorry, i thought someone who’s ass i kicked earlier had something to say?” you retort.

he was ready to respond again, but lui kang redirected the conversation.

“it is time. we must depart. outworld is expecting us.” he begins to move his hands in the same circular motion as before and another portal beings to open up.

“y/n! y/n! Look!” johnny points as if he was kid asking his parent capture his performance.

“i got it johnny, damn! it’s not like this isn’t my whole ass job.” you roll you eyes as you break your slowly dying phone out again. before entering the portal, lui kang turned to you,

“i trust that you won’t be getting yourself in trouble?” he raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor replaced with a serious one.

“don’t worry kangaroo, i’ll be doing the PR work for both johnny and i. count on me to clean up any mess these boys make. it’s all in the job description.”

his face screwed up in thought before he nodded.

“Let us show these outworlders what we are made of.” he led first through the portal.

-end-

I will update as much as I can but just know I am a college student with other commitments. bear with me!

#mk1 2023 #johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #raiden #lui kang #kung lao #x reader #mk1 x reader #reader insert #shitpost #self insert #mortal kombat #platonic

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