#and again asks/comments/requests/suggestions are welcome >:3

[bluehairedspidey]

Please tell me about Johnny Cage's sex diary! (This is @bisexualjohnnycage !) ^_^)

@bisexualjohnnycage hell yeah!!! i posted a good chunk of the ideas i had already on this post but i'll try and put some of my other ideas here lol (just as a warning this may get a little raunchy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

alright so im just gonna put my notes for what ideas i have for the male characters in the rosters for mk9, mkx, and mk11 :)

Baraka

I don't have many ideas for Baraka yet, but this will probably be one of the more rough/violent chapters with some biting/bleeding/cutting likely involved (consensual tho, Johnny doesn't mind >:3 )

Bo' Rai Cho & Raiden

Definitely leaning towards Johnny having a threesome with these two, I'm thinking sometime between MK9 and MKX

Johnny's gonna see Raiden with his hair down for the first time and his brain is gonna short-circuit for a minute because Gay

I want Johnny to call Raiden "Rai-doll" at least once

Cyrax

I want Johnny to hook up with Cyrax before he gets cyberized so it's going to have to happen at the first tournament in MK9. Honestly I may have to change how long the tournament is in this fic because I feel like it's so short in the actual game that Johnny won't have enough time to be a manwhore lmao

In MK9 Cyrax was specifically assigned by the Lin Kuei to kill Johnny in the tournament, but chose to spare him at the last second, so that'll be a fun thing to consider. Does Johnny try to hook up with Cyrax because he can't stop thinking about him after their fight? Or did they sleep together before their fight and Cyrax decided not to kill him because the dick was that good? Either way, hilarious

Erron Black & Kabal

Johnny having a threesome with these two in order to try and set them up together yeehaw

Can Johnny resist the urge to make a "save a horse ride a cowboy" joke? No he cannot

Not sure if I'll be able to fit it in, but I may try to include Erron asking for/offering weapon training as a way of flirting with men because in MK11 he has these two intros that I think about a lot:

Erron Black: Come for shooting lessons? Sub-Zero: Are you offering, Erron Black? Erron Black: Only to the quick and the brave.

Erron Black: Don't s'pose you'd teach me that rope spear. Scorpion: And divulge Shirai Ryu secrets? Erron Black: I could make you share, Scorpion.

Kabal comes in like 30 seconds but his refractory period is super fast too so its okay <3

Fujin & Nightwolf?

I'm considering having Johnny hook up with these two together as well, but I don't really have much thought of for them yet cuz I haven't watched their part of the story in MK11 yet

I do know that Johnny will probably be surprised by how easily he's able to convince Fujin to sleep with him. Fujin canonically is both a fan of Johnny and "enjoys a good time" so I think he would be down lol

Goro

Goro effortlessly manhandling Johnny. Just holding him completely off the ground by all fours while fucking his face and/or ass <3

With Johnny trying to hook up with the more evil characters that I can see using Johnny to get off but not necessarily caring as much about his pleasure/comfort/safety I'm just imagining him being like "Okay gotta make sure I get myself prepped for anal Before I go because I Do wanna get fucked in the ass but the chances of them actually caring if I'm ready for it are Not High." Like he's rolling up to Goro's lair with his largest butt plug already In

Johnny Cage

Obviously going to take place with Past!Johnny and Future!Johnny in MK11. I'm probably going to have it revolve around the scene where Future!Johnny takes Past!Johnny aside to scold him, and then somehow either instead of fighting or after fighting they'll end up having sex lmao

Kenshi

Okay so for most of these ships I'm planning on having the chapter I write be about the first (if not only) time Johnny has sex with them. However, I may or may not end up doing that with Kenshi because I've been really into the idea of Johnny and Kenshi actually being in a long term relationship (and getting married to each other after Johnny gets divorced) beginning prior to MKX. So I may end up writing an instance of them having sex while they're already in an established relationship rather than their first time together. Who knows tho! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Kung Lao

Johnny and Kung Lao's sexual awakening! They're going to meet and hook up on the first night of the tournament in MK9. At this point Johnny's never slept with another guy before and Kung Lao's never slept with anyone before so it will be a learning experience for the both of them >;3

Liu Kang, Kitana, Jade, Kotal Kahn, & Reptile

My Outworld + Liu Kang Polycule! I have like three scenarios I'm considering for this one right now. In the first two the polycule is already together and in the third one they're not

First scenario: Johnny wants to hook up with Liu, but since he loves Kitana/he and Kitana are already in a relationship Johnny invites her too and makes it a threesome. Kotal finds out about this as well as the fact that Johnny has made "Sleep With Every Man Possible" into his own personal life goal and invites Johnny over. Johnny thinks “hell yeah” and goes over to hook up with Kotal, only to find that Kotal also invited Liu, Kitana, Jade, and Reptile. Johnny ofc is not at all bothered by this, the more the merrier >:3

Second scenario: Johnny is talking to Liu about the polycule's relationship dynamic (basically like a chain, Liu-Kitana-Jade-Kotal-Reptile). Johnny asks if all five of them have ever had sex together. Liu says they have not. Johnny asks if they'd like to, and if he can be invited >:3

Third scenario: Liu tells Johnny which members of the not-yet-together polycule have feelings for whom and why they allegedly can't be together ("I love Kitana but she loves Jade who is in a relationship with Kotal and also Reptile is there") and Johnny is like "Hm. Interesting. >:3" and starts plotting to be matchmaker again

Also like with Lao I headcanon Liu as not having slept with anyone prior to MK9, however I haven't decided for sure whether or not he and Kitana will have had sex by the time stuff happens with Johnny

Rain

Okay Vivi I have to admit I'm probably gonna be SUPER influenced by the Rain/Johnny fic you posted recently because I absolutely loved it!!! Rain is DEFINITELY into being praised. Johnny just needs to give him even the smallest amount of positive attention and he'll be set >:3

Scorpion & Sub-Zero

Honestly I really don't have any ideas for these two yet except that they're definitely going to be together. Like obviously lol

And then there's a bunch of characters that I literally have no ideas for yet but might try to come up with something for in the future! Including but not limited to: Ermac, Geras, Jax, Kano, Kollector, Noob Saibot, Quan Chi, Sektor, Shang Tsung, Shao Kahn, Shinnok, Smoke, Stryker, Ferra/Torr, Tremor, Triborg, etc

[coco-loco-nut]

I Bet You Think About Me

pairing: lando x reader

summary: moving on isn’t always easy

masterlist part two requests open

————————————

Soft thuds fill the space of your apartment. You glance at your phone once again, its light illuminating your figure. 3 am. Your mind won’t let you rest as you pace in front of the windows. The city lights are soft compared to those in Monaco. Maybe that isn’t true, but after your breakup Monaco didn’t seem as welcoming as it used to.

You shouldn’t have done it, you shouldn’t have looked at the post on your feed with Lando’s face on it, but you did. Despite having him blocked, every once in a while he pops up via other accounts. Posts showing of him and his new girlfriend, one who is prettier than you. A moment of curiosity and a bit of jealousy has you clicking on her profile.

The latest post of her cuddling up to Lando has all his friends in the comments complimenting them. Fans say how much better she is for him. Rich, they mean she grew up wealthy like Lando did. You quickly turn off your phone and toss it on the couch, turning to stare out your window.

“Enough,” you whisper to yourself. The urge to run hits you like a ton of bricks. Grabbing your phone you pack a bag, if you leave now you will make it back to your childhood home in time for the morning chores. It’s better than thinking about him.

The lights of London disappear in your rearview mirror as you drive to the countryside. You almost feel your heart stop when you pass the exit Lando used to take you around the town he grew up in, and again when you passed Bristol and the mansion his parents moved into. You always felt out of place there.

Stars disappear and the sky turns orange as you turn down a familiar dirt road, the farmhouse you grew up on coming into view. A little beaten up, but it’s your home. The only thing keeping you awake is the now empty can of Red Bull beside you and your stomach growls at the thought of the breakfast your mom is probably making right now.

As you step inside, it feels like you never left. A couple bills are on the kitchen table and your mom is standing at the stove.

“What brought you home?” your dad greets you with a hug, surprised to see you without warning.

“Couldn’t sleep, needed to get out,” you mumble into his shoulder, tired enough to fall asleep on it.

“Why don’t you eat a bit then go sleep in your room?” your mom suggests, putting a plate of food on the now cleared kitchen table for you.

“Thanks Mum,” you gratefully take the seat. You can’t cook for your life, so a homemade meal is always welcome. Your Dad eats quickly before he heads out to do his farm work.

“Are you okay?” your mom slides you a cup of coffee. She has a sympathetic look it your eye that makes you want to cry.

“He already moved on,” your voice is small, a lump in your throat as you admit the hard reality.

“I’m sorry,” her wrinkled hand reaches across the table to hold yours as a tear slides down your cheek.

“I think he was cheating,” you swallow, building up the courage to explain the breakup. “It started slowly. Not laughing at my jokes anymore, rolled eyes, and then it was him saying he needed space and we were too different,” you feel a sob ready to wreck your body. Your mom stands up and pulls you up with her, bringing you to the living room couch to hold yours as you cry.

“You deserve more than him, and you will find someone who fits your needs,” her soft voice and warm arms make you feel safe, like the little girl who used to run to her for comfort.

“I love you,” you sniffle after thoroughly soaking her shirt with tears.

“Let’s get you to bed,” she rubs your shoulder, leading you to your childhood room. It’s remained in the same state you left it, teddy bears on your bed and posters of old celebrity crushes on your walls. Lando had asked when you will redecorate, saying it wasn’t fitting for an adult to have stuffed animals everywhere.

Wordlessly you crawl into bed, clutching your favorite bear and drifting off to a dreamless sleep. When you wake up it must be midday from the way the sun shines into your room and over your bedframe. On the nightstand beside you is a worn leather journal stained with glitter gel ink and a glass of water that wasn’t there before.

You sit up and grab the journal, carefully flipping through the pages. Old songs that you never finished or sent to artists. There are only a couple of blank pages in the back, ones left behind once you started university and your career as a ghost songwriter. You can sing and play instruments, but not well enough to have a big career like a pop star, nor would you want to. Sure you put on small performances, it helps pay the bills and gets you exposure in front of agents who will pick up your songs.

On the last page, in your mom’s scratchy handwriting is a note. Channel your emotions into a song, just like the other pages in this journal. Reaching into the nightstand drawer, you find your red glitter gel pen and write.

When you return to London you go straight to the record studio you work for to flush it out and demo it.

“This has a lot of potential, I’m going to send it around and see who we can get,” your manager tells you as you walk out, a weight off your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for a major artist to pick it up, record it, and release it as a single. It may be the best song you’ve written.

Lando sits in his Monaco apartment after a workout scrolling TikTok. His plush, expensive, leather couch and minimalistic decoration feels cold. The warmth left when you left and took little decorations he never really noticed until they were gone with you. The small touches that made it home, like his favorite blanket, or a picture you took of a random tree on your first date.

As he scrolls, he notices a song that everyone is posting. It’s catchy, a perfect hook that makes you feel the emotions of the words. But as he listens, he knows. A quick search of the credits confirms it, you wrote the song under your pseudonym.

“She’s actually insane, oh my god,” Lando laughs breathlessly, a little embarrassed at how much he admires you in the moment. The way he used to speak of your career like he was any better than you, Lando feels a bit ashamed. You have talent and instead of supporting your budding career, he laughed at you and your dreams just to become the inspiration for your best song yet.

Using a burner account that still follows you, he quickly checks your Instagram before his girlfriend returns. Photos of you on the farm and in your apartment bring back unwanted memories. The way Lando felt a little more free and happy, the way he didn’t have to fit in with the upper class like he does with his family and at F1 events. The way some things just didn’t matter with you:!And when the lock on his front door jiggles with a key, he quickly closes the app, returning to TikTok.

“Hi baby! I just got us tickets to some indie concert back in London. A singer-songwriter,” his girlfriend struts across his apartment like she owns the place.

“Sounds great,” Lando forces a smile, another concert. She always gets tickets to see small artists, it’s some ego thing for her.

Lando fights to force a smile as he reads the sign for the performance. You. He sits dutifully beside his girlfriend, buying drinks and waiting for you to make an appearance.

“This is where all the music agencies go to find new talent,” his girlfriend says, making Lando want to roll his eyes. He knows that, you talked about it all the time. “Oh my god, is this your ex? Well, I guess you can’t help who you fall for,” her voice grates on Lando’s ears as you appear, guitar in hand and piano off to the side.

You introduce yourself and your first song, looking out over the crowd, trying not to stop on Lando. He looks annoyed, but you know from experience that he will never be happy.

Lando’s mind screams as he watches you intently, asking why he ever let you go. He wants to turn his mind off, stop having you replay like a broken record or VHS tape in his mind. You certainly make yourself hard to forget.

At the end of the night you pause, taking a deep breath before addressing the crowd.

“I’d like to end this with something I wrote recently that’s blown up. I usually love to hear a crowd sing along, but tonight just enjoy the music,” you move from the piano back to the small wooden stool with your guitar. The crowd waits in silence on bated breath like you requested, hungry to know what you are about to perform. Some even pulled out their phone to record.

“This is a little song called I Bet You Think About Me.”

[whoreforsexymen]

Strong Drinks & Broken Links 🍺⛓️‍💥 CH. 1

Gray Hair & The Absence of Care

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Pronouns: GN!Reader (for now— please see this post for details)

Rating: SFW, except for strong language and consumption of alcohol (drink responsibly, people). Reader is old enough to drink, despite what Vander thinks.

Word count: 4.7k (the rest are going to be far longer, so be prepared)

Tags: Slowburn, Reader is implied to be 21+ years old, Age Gap, Heavy Use Of Language/Alcohol, Reader might be a little too angsty (I’m sorry), Tense Situations, Vander being the caring mentor type he is but in a poorly thought out way.

Notes: I don't think I've ever posted a fic on this account. So, welcome to my only outlet for the brain rotting obsession I have for this man. ALSO I SWEAR TO GOD NO ONE MENTION ANYTHING ABOUT SEASON 2, OR I'LL FIGHT YOU.

((If any of you want to be added to a tag list for this fic, please lmk!! Ask box is also open for requests/suggestions/comments 🤍 feedback is always appreciated 🤍🤍))

It had been a terrible night so far.

Not only had you been shortchanged more than two-thirds of the agreed-upon pay for a job you’d completed—but that paltry sum had quickly slipped from your grasp entirely, taken by a gang of thugs.

You had to give the undercity credit—it had an uncanny ability to remain a perpetual cesspool. You’d managed to take down two of the muggers, but the third—the one who’d made off with your coin—had slipped away while you were dealing with the others. Just your luck. The payout had been pathetic to begin with, and now you were left with nothing but the bitter taste of failure. It looked like you’d be scraping the dregs of the city to find enough for your next meal, yet again. 

That is, unless you decide to drink your dinner. As well as your sorrows, in the process. The idea struck you as you neared the central bar of the undercity, still sulking as you were making your way back to the shack you called home. The Last Drop. A name that said it all. If there was any place where the undercitizens of Zaun gathered, it was here. No doubt the owner had to be the wealthiest man in the area, though that wasn’t exactly saying much in a place like this. 

You made your decision. A warm meal might be out of reach, but liquor could suffice—if you drank heavily enough, that is. Or at the very least, it might dull the sting of the night’s failures. 

The bar was an eyesore, a hulking building among the rundown structures of The Lanes. A garish neon sign blinked above the entrance, buzzing like an angry fly, casting sickly light on the grime-streaked pavement. Inside, the din of loud music and the clatter of drunken chatter spilled into the street. It was a haven for folks with any background, no matter if they sought business or pleasure within its walls. 

You pushed through the door, noting how no one even bothered to glance your way. That was how you liked it—under the radar, always out of sight, always out of the mind of untrustworthy beings. 

Then again, you didn’t trust anyone anyway.

You duck and weave through the crowd of rowdy patrons, eyes scanning the bar for a table or booth at which you could hunker down and nurse your drink in peace. Your frown deepens beneath the hood of your jacket when you come up empty-handed. Typical. No matter, though. You’d have to order at the bar anyway, regardless of where you sat.

It’s when your eyes settle in the direction of the bar that luck seems to briefly shine upon you—there’s an empty stool. Without hesitation, you make a beeline for it, not wanting some drunken fool to snag it before you could. You practically dive-bomb onto the seat, landing with a small grunt, air knocked from your lungs. After the night you’ve had, this stool feels like an oasis, despite the new absence of oxygen beneath your chest. You settle into it like it’s the only thing left in the world, clutching the seat as if someone might try to commandeer it if you let your guard down low enough.  

The realization dawns on you that, in order to get a drink, you’d have to interact with the bartender. You hold that fact in high regard with contempt. 

Chit-chat? Not tonight– or truthfully any night. You’ve never been crazy about casual conversation. The events of the evening have only soured your mood further, and the last thing you need is some eager bartender trying to make nice. Normally, you’d avoid sitting at the bar for that reason alone, yet here you are.

Thankfully, the bartender pays you no mind, his attention fully set on the patron he’s currently tending to. That is, until said patron leaves and the barman finally turns to you, his new source of focus. 

The sheer momentum with which you rolled your eyes almost knocked you out of your seat. 

“Welcome to The Last Drop. What’ll it be?” His voice is deep, and heavy, garnering a thick accent that clung to every word. 

He’s an older man, though exactly how old is hard for you to pin down. His hair’s gray, his eyes tired, the lines of age having etched themselves into his face long ago. However, there’s something youthful about him—something that makes it hard to tell whether he’s an old-looking thirty or a young-ish fifty. Frankly, you don’t care enough to continue your mental evaluation of him. Age shouldn’t matter when it comes to bartenders. They either know how to pour a decent drink, or they don’t.

You don’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Something strong.” You mutter, your voice mostly flat, but with a hint of irritation that danced along the edge.

The bartender scratches at his graying beard, his gaze thoughtful as he considers your request. You grit your teeth, hoping he won’t try to scam you by giving you something weak and overpriced, just to line his pockets with your hard-earned coin. You’d seen it happen to others, and you’d be a damned fool if you let it happen to you. 

The bartender studies your face, or at least what he can see of it beneath your hood, before his gaze shifts to the shelves beneath the counter. After a moment of deliberation, he selects a bottle with thoughtful ease, pulling the cork out with his teeth. With his free hand, he grabs a tin cup and pours in a copious amount, sliding it toward you with a swift flick of his wrist. You’d almost call it a generous decision on his part, considering the fact that you hadn’t even paid your dues first. His choice to serve you first goes a long way in easing your suspicion, at least for the moment.

You dig into your pocket, retrieving the few gold coins you’d managed to hold onto when dealing with the aforementioned thugs. They weren’t enough for one measly meal, but they were enough for a drink or two– or three, but who’s going to keep track? Certainly anyone but you. You’d only stop once your pitiful wealth ran out. Without a second thought, you toss them onto the bar top, making it unspokenly clear to the bartender that you were hoping for much more than just this one drink. You grab the cup, lifting it to your lips and downing the lot of it in one quick, greedy gulp. The warmth spreads through you almost immediately, and it feels like a small victory over the obnoxious turn your night has taken.

The bartender watches this with a faint chuckle before you slam the empty cup back down onto the counter. He takes it without a word, refills the tiny tin chalice, and begins passing it back. Without missing a beat, you grab the cup from him, draining the contents in a second gulp before he even has time to set the bottle back down. 

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” he remarks casually, his voice low and steady as he finally reunites the bottom of the bottle with the countertop. 

“I’ve seen a lot of things.” you mutter, your eyes fixed on anything but him. The words come out flat, though there’s a weight to them. It’s more than just a refusal to talk—it’s a refusal to let anyone look too closely. You avoid eye contact like the plague. Eyes, after all, are the windows to the soul. And letting someone peer through them is a risky gamble you’ve never been apt to take.

You were clearly beyond uninterested in the beginnings of this conversation. The lack of willingness to be friendly reigning clear as you shove the tin cup towards him yet again. He grabs the empty cup and refills it once more—your third drink in under five minutes. He seems reluctant to hand it back. He maintains a grip on it as he eyes you again, this time much more thoughtful.

“Care to chat about it? Might be healthier than drownin’ yourself at the bottom of a bottle,” he offers plainly.

You give him a sidelong glance, not even trying to mask the edge in your voice. 

“Doesn’t sound like a good business strategy, encouraging your paying customers to cut back.” You fire back quickly, the sharpness of your words outpacing even your annoyance at the unwanted conversation.

The bartender chuckles again, a spark of amusement flickering in his tired eyes. There’s a glimmer of understanding in his smile—maybe he’s seen more than a few like you in this dive. Or maybe, he knows in the same fashion as you, that sometimes it’s more palatable to fill the silence with alcohol than with words.

“Fair point, but I’d prefer to keep my patrons alive. Helps me sleep at night, y’know?” The bartender shoots back, his eyes fixed on you, all too curious about what’s hidden beneath your hood. The conversation quickly turns uncomfortable, a painful reminder of why you’ve never liked bartenders—they always talk too much and ask too many personal questions. As far as you’re concerned, they should stick to the charade for the sake of their regulars, and leave all unsuspecting customers alone. 

The momentum of yet another roll of your eyes causes your head to bob ever so slightly— your hood creeping back towards the line of your hair. The new, incredibly subtle, view of your face made the barman clench the cup in his hands with rigor. 

His eyes narrow slightly, the amusement fading from his voice. 

“Where’re your parents, kid?” He asks, his voice low and in demand of an answer. 

The question hits you like a slap, and for a brief second, you find yourself caught off guard. You’re not someone who’s usually thrown by imbecilic remarks from the residents of The Lanes, but this one? It’s different. Not just the audacity of asking such a personal question, but the clear assumption of your age being made so boldly. 

Your head snaps up, and before you can stop yourself, you push your hood back, breaking your own rule about eye contact. Why? Who knows. Today has already gone off the rails, and you’re too far gone to care. The liquor’s sudden grip on your senses began to cloud your judgment, and honestly, it was far from shocking. To be fair, you had asked for something strong… Not to mention having no substantial food in your belly to dilute the potency you sought after. All in all, there was no ignoring how the liquor was starting to pummel you like a brick to the face would. 

You meet his gaze, eyes scanning his face for any sign of what he’s gunning after by asking such a question. But there’s nothing obvious behind those gloomy eyes of his. No clear motive. You can’t tell if he’s purposefully trying to get under your skin or if he’s just another fool with a quick tongue. 

“Rotting in their graves,” you mutter, voice sharp and, in addition, spiteful. 

“Which I’m sure you’ve got one foot in, yourself, Gramps.” You make a mockery of the decades that are clearly stacked against you, hoping to push him back into his corner.

He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he practically snorts, running a hand over his silvery beard as he crosses his arms; resting them across his stomach with the casual authority of someone who’s seen it all. He’s not rattled by your quips—no, not in the slightest. 

“How old are you, kid?” His voice is flat now, a hint of something more serious creeping in, though you can’t figure out why. You’re even more unsure now about his intentions. Constantly expecting the worst from people was your lot in life. 

“Too young for you.” You snap back, pushing forward with your usual sharpness, trying to regain some control over this ridiculous conversation. You reach for the cup he had refilled for you, but before you can even graze it, he snatches it away, clicking his tongue like a disappointed parent.

“Tsk, tsk,” he tuts at you, as if you’ve done something wrong.

“I asked how old you were.” he repeats, his voice now devoid of any amusement. 

He watches you carefully, his gaze inspecting your face as if he’s trying to peel back layers you didn’t even know were there.

You roll your eyes, irritation growing, and narrow them at him, unwilling to back down. You can’t tell if he’s probing for something deeper, or if he’s just getting off on making you uncomfortable. Either way, you’re done playing his game.

“Why are you so curious, huh?” you scoff, leaning in and making a bold decision to double down on your irritation. “I’m just another patron here to drown in my sorrows and drink them away. Not to mention, I’m paying for the privilege.” Your words are bold, and with that same boldness, you reach across the bar and rip the cup from his grasp.

You try to bring the drink to your lips, intent on finishing it off. But just as the cup nears your mouth, the bartender’s large, rough hand slips over the opening of the cup like a solar eclipse. 

He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing as he sizes you up with a look that could strip paint. In that moment, something clicks in his mind. The defiance in your voice, the way you’re carrying yourself—it all reinforces his suspicion. You’re not old enough to be here. When you walked in, your hood had obscured most of your face. But now that it’s gone, he can see it clearly: you’re just a kid, trying to score some alcohol. The only thing that kept him from throwing you out on your ass, was your cadence. You looked young, and spoke carelessly, but you sounded grown. If you were in fact grown, he’d ease up. 

However, with the way you look—bloodied and bruised, no less—he’s convinced you’re in some kind of trouble. The kind of trouble he doesn’t want being drug through his bar. He doesn’t know where you’ve been, who you’ve pissed off, or what kind of people you run with. But this? This is his bar, and he’s fought too hard to maintain the fragile peace that reigns here. He won’t let you ruin that for him and his loyal patrons by dragging your poor choices in with you. 

“Seems I’ve struck a nerve,” he says, his voice no longer playful but flat and serious. “Either tell me your age, or you’re cut off.”

The room seems to hush around you. The muffled chatter of patrons behind you fades as the bartender’s tone sharpens, leaving no room for argument. It’s a quiet threat now, the kind that lets you know exactly how much leverage you have—and how little he’s willing to tolerate.

“You didn’t strike shit,” You hiss. “and I don’t need to answer to shit.” You add. 

The bartender bends over the counter, his face inches from yours. The bitter scent of smoke hangs thick on his breath, hot and rancid, and it presses against your skin like a physical weight. The damp air in the bar swirls around you, brushing your cheeks with an uncomfortable warmth that feels suffocating, as if the room itself is closing in.

“Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll have no problem lettin’ my loyal patrons cut your tongue out for us to hang above the bar.” He says fiercely. 

You glance over your shoulder, catching the eyes of the dozens of patrons who have fallen silent, their conversations and business abruptly halted. It’s clear—they’re waiting for a signal, ready to back up their beloved bartender if things escalate.

“You can call off the cavalry, Gramps. I was just leaving,” you retorted, swiping one of your coins from the counter, as if to refund yourself for the drink you’ve yet to have. You release your grip on the cup, almost slingshotting it backwards from the sheer force you two had each been bestowing upon it. 

“Sit down.” the bartender commands, his voice low and final, as you attempt to abscond. 

You don’t reply, instead moving to shoulder through the row of patrons who are standing like silent sentinels, waiting for the slightest nod from their bar’s gatekeeper. It’s not like you expected them to part, but the way not a single person dares budge makes your blood boil. The crowd might as well be a wall of stone. 

“Sit. Down.” the bartender demands again, his tone sharper this time, a razor edge cutting through the haze of the bar.

You grind your teeth, your patience wearing thin.

“I’ll take my patronage elsewhere—”

You don’t even finish your sentence before a hand, seemingly out of nowhere, pushes you roughly back. You stumble, barely managing to stop yourself from falling flat on your ass. The sudden movement sends a rush of heat to your head, the anger spiking through your veins like fire.

You seethed at the touch, the anger burning hot in your chest, every muscle in your body coiled with frustration. But you knew better than to keep pushing your luck. Not today. Not in a situation like this, with dozens of hungry eyes watching, their hands twitching near their weapons of choice, waiting for the slightest excuse to make a move.

Biting back a torrent of curses, you forced yourself to swallow your pride, choosing to stay quiet—at least for now. It wasn’t worth the fight. You could practically feel the heat of their glares digging into your back as you turned on your heel, eyes locking once more with the bartender’s. You reclaimed your seat at the bar with deliberate flair, each movement oozing a sense of defiance and attitude. It was a performance, one you were used to. To you, it felt like you were playing the part of someone tough. But you knew, deep down, that to anyone else—especially the bartender—you probably looked like nothing more than a naive, immature idiot who didn’t know when to shut up. It wasn’t a great look, but at least it kept people from getting too close.

“I’m sat,” you muttered, voice brimming with the remnants of your irritation.

The bartender shook his head slightly, a hint of amusement creeping back into his expression. You could feel the tension in the room dissipate, the energy shifting as the crowd behind you resumed their rowdy conversations. The noise began to swell again, and for a moment, it almost felt like the bar was returning to some semblance of normalcy.

He grabbed a dirty glass from the counter, handling it with practiced ease, and pulled a rag from beneath the bar. As he began polishing the glass, he didn’t so much as glance your way. His focus was on the glass, and for a few moments, it felt like you were nothing more than a background detail to him. You could feel your impatience growing with each passing second. If he had something to say, you wished he’d just say it already. At least that way, you could get out of here—and maybe keep some of your pride intact.

The bartender continued his slow, methodical motions, running the rag around the rim of the glass with an almost exaggerated calmness. He didn’t bother to look up, yet you could feel the weight of his gaze on you through the silence.

“I’m gonna ask you again,” he said, his tone neutral, almost too much. “How old are you?”

You weighed your options. If you didn’t answer, you had no idea what would happen next. If you did answer, you still had no clue. It was a gamble either way.

“(Insert age here),” you muttered, the words slipping out begrudgingly, each one like a weight lifting off your chest.

The bartender scoffed lightly, a soft laugh escaping him that made your skin crawl. Your fingers began tapping impatiently on the bar’s edge, the rhythm a soft counterpoint to the growing tension between you.

“____ years old and still so naive… You really are just a kid, eh?” His words hung in the air, his eyes still locked on the glass in front of him, but you could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“There are worse things I could be,” you shot back, your voice laced with a mix of defensiveness and defiance.

“S’pose that’s true,” he replied, finishing up his polishing with the air of someone who had all the time in the world. He set the glass down next to the others—clean, polished, and waiting to be used. With a fluid motion, he slung the rag over his shoulder, then placed one hand on his hip and the other on the edge of the counter. He shifted his weight, leaning just slightly into the bar, his posture relaxed yet somehow still imposing.

“But on the other hand,” he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, “what you already are ain’t too good either.”

It wasn’t a threat—more of an observation, one that hung heavily in the air, like the smoke in the room. You felt the weight of it, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was a warning or just another way to mess with you. Either way, you could tell this conversation wasn’t over.

You could feel the first few bubbles of anger rising in your chest, the heat creeping up your neck as your blood threatened to boil. You’d always been quick to anger—an unfortunate side effect of your temper and stubborn streak. They were the crosses you’d carried for as long as you could remember.

You scoffed again, the sound sharp and biting, as if it were the only defense you had left. You had already rolled your eyes a dozen times tonight, but it felt like you were on the verge of an explosion.

“What’s your goal here, Gramps?” you spat, your voice dripping with sass, every word a little jab. You didn’t care to hide your bitterness. You liked to fight with words just as much as you did with your fists, and the bartender was starting to see that loud and clear.

“You got the answer you were looking for. Whether you believe me or not, you’ve already served me twice. If my age was such a concern to you, you would’ve kicked me out long before I even sat down.” Your words hung in the air once more, and you could see the gears turning behind his eyes, but he didn’t speak.

He just let out a quiet laugh, as if your logic amused him. And he didn’t bother to answer, not even in the slightest.

The silence stretched, thick and tense, and it was clear he wasn’t going to explain himself. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of an explanation. He simply leaned back, eyes flicking over to the rowdy crowd behind you.

It was infuriating.

You stayed silent for a beat, but only because you knew you’d have more to say. And damn right, you did.

“Do you do this with every new customer?” You snapped, your voice rising now, the frustration boiling over. “’Cause if you ask me, I’m not sure how this shithole’s still in business. You discourage your customers from drinking, even though this is a fucking bar, and that’s all people come here to do. You make it impossible to drink peacefully, just like you make it impossible to drink at all!”

The words spilled out like fire, each one more forceful than the last. Your temper was no longer something you were trying to hold back—it was running rampant, and it felt good to let it out, even if it was in the form of a scream. You weren’t about to let this bartender—this stubborn old man—have the upper hand. Not when it felt like he was deliberately pushing your buttons.

“So if it’s alright with you, Gramps, you got your answer, and I don’t owe you shit. I’m leaving.” You actually raise your voice purposefully this time, slamming your hands down onto the counter as you push yourself off of the stool once more. 

The bartender wasn’t fazed by your outburst. In fact, he’d dealt with feistier, louder, and much more difficult people than you—people who could out-shout you or out-punch you if they had to. He wasn’t bothered by your temper. He had raised four kids on his own, after all. He’d learned a thing or two about handling stubborn personalities, whether they were kids or grown adults who carried themselves like children. And you, in his eyes, were just another brat testing his patience.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was steady, calm, and authoritative, with an edge of finality that cut through the noise of the bar.

Before you could react, his hand shot out faster than you expected, grabbing your shoulder with an unexpected gentleness. He tugged you back into the seat with a kind of effortless force that made your breath catch in your throat.

You shot up from the bar stool in a flash, but his hold was stronger than you anticipated.

Instinct kicked in, and your own hand shot out like a snake, grabbing his wrist with a quick, almost violent motion. You shoved it off your shoulder, irritation flaring up like wildfire.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, your chest heaving as you glared up at him, the heat of the moment burning in your eyes.

You huffed, your fists clenching at your sides, teeth grinding. The room seemed to close in around you, but you weren’t backing down—not now, not after all of this. The tension between you and the bartender was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You could feel the weight of the crowd’s silent attention being drawn to you once more as they waited for your next move, but you weren’t afraid. You didn’t have time to be.

The man let out a heavy sigh, the sound thick with disappointment. 

“Look, kid—”

“By the fucking god’s, I’m not a kid!” you snapped, your eyes flashing a level of ferocity that sliced straight through him.

He pressed his lips into a thin, hard line, his gaze cemented on you still as he took a long, steadying breath. Patience was his virtue, and he was willing to endure this sparring match for as long as it took. 

“It’s clear you’re in some kind of trouble,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Maybe, just maybe, instead of lashing out, you could let someone help—”

You cut him off mid-sentence, your words an unpleasant interruption.

“Help? You want to help? Surely that’s the wrong word. Surely, I heard you wrong, cause, from the way I see it, you’ve done nothing except cage me in here, threaten me, and withhold what I paid for. So if it’s with any consolation, take your ‘help’ and fuck off.” 

Enough was enough. Without another word, you climbed atop the stool, bracing yourself for what came next. You steadied your balance, then launched yourself toward the crowd with calculated precision. The dismount was quick—intentional, forceful. You tucked your legs in, soaring over their heads in a perfect flip, and extended them just before hitting the ground behind them. Without pausing, you bolted for the door, heart pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, you made it—flying through the door and slamming it shut behind you with a satisfying crash. Finally, you were free, never to be seen within a hundred yards of this bar ever again. 

The patrons had made a half-hearted attempt to grab at you as you rushed past, but a sharp, deafening whistle from the bartender stopped them in their strides. He shook his head softly, a silent message that it wasn’t worth the chase. That it was better to let you go. If you were in trouble, it would catch up with you soon enough.

Deep down, the bartender hated seeing someone so young seal their own fate in such a way. But, in the end, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t save them all—no matter how badly he wished he could.

He couldn’t help but wonder— if maybe, just maybe, he’d been a little too assertive, or downright impetuous with you after all.

But it didn’t matter now. You were gone. All he could do was hope you’d survive out on those streets. 

taglist: @blogforhoes @committingcrimes-2047 @dirtandcrime @eternalgoddessofart @woozulo @lutaaaslostacc-d8 @heidiland05 @sugaaawaraaa @glenn-slayer

[lokideservesahug]

Thirsty

Checo Pérez x wife!reader

•°•°•

Warnings: Really quite suggestive, everyone is thirsting over Checo + his neck. Awful nicknames of my own creation (Necko Pérez) I'm sorry. Badly translated Spanish

Notes: I'm so glad that people enjoy reading both my work and for Checo. And for the anon that requested this, thank you.

Request: Could you do Checo Perez with wife reader? He had an interview and the interviewer asked him to show his thick neck 👀. And he did. Everyone went a little crazy it especially his wife. A little suggestive and fluff. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :)))

•°•°•

Summary: After a certain tweet subtly dissing Charles and Oscar, more people come to appreciate Sergio Pérez and especially his neck. -°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

(A/n I was forced to crop them but his arms in this video are just a work of art🤌. So I put them in the first photo of the header.)

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: misión completa. And apolgies to your eyes.

Liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen and 2,569,097 others

View all 34 comments

Schecoperez: te quiero cariño (I love you darling) ❤

↳ Yourusername: I love you more 🤍

Redbullracing: ...we are going to pretend we didn't see this for the sake of the head of PR's welfare

↳Yourusername: Ly admin <3

Maxverstappen: Tw next time please. I need to go and bleach my eyes now

↳Schecoperez: reina del drama. Se me permite amar a mi esposa. (drama queen. I am allowed to love my wife.)

↳Maxverstappen: I don't know what that means....

↳Yourusername: He said that he's very sorry and won't try and traumatise you again in the future.

↳Maxverstappen: Oh! Thank you Checo😊

↳Schecoperez: crédulo

↳Maxverstappen: Hey! I can use Google translate you know

↳Schecoperez: Oops....

User1: I speak as one of a few 'fanpages' to be fortunate enough to be followed back by you. And on behalf of the entire F1 community, twitter is going to go wild over this...

↳Yourusername: Meh let them. Thay were the ones that helped to bring this to light...

↳User1: Being it to light? Does that mean this was a regular occurance in private?

↳Yourusername: With a husband like that? Of course.

This user has limited comments

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and as always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback are always welcome!

Taglist (idk if this is your thing so if not then sorry) :

@nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

[chaosartic]

START OF THE SEASON SPECIAL

AUTHORS NOTE

Welcome to my first writing special!

This year will be my first full season watching F1 (and writing) and therefore I wanted to start a small special event. In the next two weeks you may request anything from the prompts below as well as any kind of headcanons.

This is also as a small thank you to everyone who’s been with me so far! In a bit under a month I meet some amazing people, made friends and joined a new community. I’m so grateful for everything and could’ve never imagined that I’d come this far.

Find out more about this event under the cut!

RULES

- deadline for this event is when the Australian GP starts aka 16th March

- please include no more than two prompts or one headcanon per request

- also please request for no more than two drivers at the same time, yes I write poly

- you may request as often as you want

- if you do not specify what gender the reader has I will automatically write with a female!reader. However I’m also open to write male!reader and non binary!reader if requested

- I write fluff, angst, humor and smut/suggestive, so feel free to request anything you like (if the headcanon isn’t a 100% clear on this please include it in your request)

- I only accept requests that land in my ask box. Comments, reblogs and private messages don’t count for this event

- I don’t have a fixed posting schedule so please be aware that it might take a bit till your request is posted

- I have every right to decline and not write any request if I don’t feel like it

If the prompts run out during the event I might add some more!

WHO I WRITE FOR

Alex Albon, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Franco Colapinto, George Russell, Kimi Antonelli, Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, Ollie Bearman and Oscar Piastri

Do you want to request someone who isn’t mentioned above? Feel free to write me and I might consider it.

HOW TO REQUEST

with a prompt: prompt number (or what it says) + driver (+ setting and/or idea)

example: prompt #2 + Oscar (+ fluff/first date together)

for a headcanon: idea for headcanon (also type of fic if not clear) + driver

example: quiet night in with smut + George

PROMPTS & HEADCANONS

PROMPTS

1. “Please don’t ever stop touching me.” - taken with Franco (+ 11)

2. “I may have found a new addiction.”

3. “Do that again it feels nice.” - taken with Oscar

4. “Sorry for waking you up baby. Go back to sleep.” - taken with Kimi

5. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.” - taken with Ollie (+ 6)

6. “Hey, hey, shhhh. You’re okay.” - taken with Ollie (+ 5)

7. “Hey, lean on me. I can carry you.” - taken with Alex (+ 8)

8. “You did so good.” - taken with Alex (+ 7)

9. “I have a solution.” “Thank goodness.” “It involves fire.” “Absolutely not.” - taken with Lando

10. “Why are you hiding behind me? What did you do?” - taken with Charles (+ 13)

11. “Do you ever shut up?” “I thought you liked my smart mouth.” “ I do. When it’s shut.” - taken with Franco (+ 1)

12. “Do you need this back, or?” - taken with Ollie

13. “I can see you staring at him. You aren’t being very subtle, you know.” - taken with Charles (+ 10)

14. “You idiot.”

15. “Is that my shirt?” - taken with Kimi

HEADCANONS

These are just some ideas, feel free to request anything else that comes to your mind!

First date, love language, quiet evening together, random dates, how you cuddle together, …

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Hiking.

-> Pairing: Lee Know x Reader (You)

-> Request: This is a repost from my old account

-> Synopsis: You regret agreeing to go on a hike with your boyfriend.

-> Warnings: None. No use of pronouns

-> Word Count: 439

-> Requests: Closed. I will make a post when they are open again.

Lee Know Masterlist

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you. 

“Are we almost there yet?” You ask well into your hike with Minho. 30 minutes into the walk you started to regret agreeing to his offer of going on a hike with him.  

Despite being in the shade, it’s hotter than hell, the bugs seem to be immune to the cheap bug spray you used, and your feet are aching, hot and sweaty and your pretty sure you have blisters that are beginning to form. Minho’s always been the more active one out of the two of you, unless it involves water. But you agreed to go with him because it's been a while since you got to do something, just the two of you.    

“Another 10 minutes, Jagiya,” he assures you.    

“You said that 10 minutes again," you pant as you stop walking. "Next time could we go see a movie? Go out for dinner? Maybe do something that doesn’t involve a 40-minute hike?” you suggest.    

“We can do whatever you want,” he says turning around when he realizes your no longer right behind him. He moves his backpack to his front and crouches down a little in front of you. “Jump on.”   

“Are you sure?” you ask a little uncertain. You’ve always admired his strength, but he would be carrying you as well as the backpack filled with supplies and food. "We still have another 10 minutes." 

“If it’ll stop you complaining, I don’t mind,” he assures her. 

“I wasn’t complaining,” you pout but jump onto to his back.  

"Yes, you were," he teases with a little smirk. 

Carrying you the rest of the way, you reach your destination in less than 10 minutes. In front of you is a beautiful river. The water is shallow and crystal clear. You didn’t doubt it would be freezing cold but nice and refreshing.  

Minho lets you off his back. The first thing you do is kick off your shoes and dip your feet in the nice cool water. You turn back to Minho, seeing him crouched down and pulling food and water out of his backpack.   

“I’m sorry I complained and that you had to carry me,” You apologize feeling slightly guilty.  

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, looking at you. You can see the mischievous look in his eyes, “But I won’t be carrying you back to the car.” 

“The walk back always seems to go quicker,” You smile. “I think I’ll be fine but you’re cooking dinner tonight.” 

“I’m fine with that,” he agrees. “Your cooking is terrible anyway.” 

Pretending to be offended even though you know he’s right, you kick water in his direction, splashing him. 

Tag List Sign-Up

bold won't let me tag you properly or at all - please check your mentions and visibility. If you get the notification please let me know so I can change it.

@staytiny2000 - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @rainydayteacups -

@tinyelfperson - @yeonjunnie - @laylasbunbunny - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things -

@kayleefriedchicken - @everythingboutkpop - @oddracha - @kpopsstuffs - @beefcakebarnes -

@summergirlsmj - @skittyneos - @pinkpunkdynamite - @bookswillfindyouaway - @bookswillfindyouaway

@katsukis1wife - @armystay89 - @instabull

[kingofbodyrolls]

Coming Home (m) | pjm | masterlist

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

When your best friend, Park Jimin, who you’ve had a crush on since forever, suggests you stay at his house to heal and find yourself again after a series of traumatizing events had haunted you for years, you don’t hesitate to accept. Within those walls, a safe haven is woven, where wounds can heal and memories find release. As he nurtures your shattered spirit, an unexpected intimacy unfurls, leaving the fragile barrier between friendship and deeper emotions in question - can you keep your feelings hidden?

→ Pairing: Jimin x reader (female) → AUs: detective!au → Genre(s): angst, healing after trauma, slice of life, smut and fluff → Trope(s): childhood best friends to lovers → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)→ Total word count: 55.8k → Warnings + triggers: mention of past abuse and sexual assault (r*pe), attempted sexual assault, trauma, stalking, fighting, trust issues, insecurities, slightly thriller vibes, angst, fluff, explicit smut (multiple scenes), kissing, cuddling/spooning, unprotected sex (stay safe - OC’s on the pill), penetrative sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), slice of lice, healing after trauma (including therapy sessions), guns, BIG feelings, protective Jimin, previous character death (a parent), Jimin being soft and loving, self defense, humor, degrading words (whore and bitch). → Disclaimer about warnings: I know nothing about sexual or physical abuse (I only know psychological because I experienced that, not in a sexual context though). This story is fiction, I do not mean to say that this is how one would go through their emotions or handle this situation. This is a delicate and fragile subject, so proceed with caution. I also know nothing about police work or the work in emergency/hospitals. Also, I don’t own BTS or know how they would act in a similar situation. This story is purely fiction, a fragment of my imagination. They just inspire me so much 💜 → Author’s note: I don’t know what happened! I planned to write like 5K words to get back into writing and then boom 40K+ 😆I don’t really know how I feel about this story, but I wanted to post it because I finished something 🎉If it’s shit, I’m really sorry. Also, I just couldn’t decide which hair color to give Jimin, because I love all colors on him, so I settled with black 😊 → Read on AO3? [link]

→ Chapter 1: part 1 → Chapter 2: part 2 → Chapter 3: epilogue → Chapter 4: coming home to you (christmas extra)

→ Requested taglist: @thelilbutifulthings

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex @rapmonjoon94 @parkitrighthere

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2023 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[tonberry-yoda]

AHHH IDK IF UR REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN BUT I GOT THIS IDEA FOR SANJI FROM THE ASK I ASKED U

Sanji reacting to his crush calling him pretty boy :D fem or male reader

If they are closed feel free to ignore this-!-

Calling Sanji "Pretty Boy"

notes - I KID YOU NOT I HAD IT ALL WRITTEN OUT AND IT ALL DELETED SO I HAD TO RESTART IM SO PISSED RN GRR IT WAS SO GOOD TOO AHHHHH Well nonetheless, I love this request and I may have made it a bit suggestive tee hee. Thanks for the amazing Sanji requests, I can't wait for more! Lots of love! <3

"pretty boy~"

he would stare at you as blush slowly spreads across his face and a line of blood goes down his nose

he wipes the blood and just stares at you again

"wh-what?"

you just smirk and run your finger under his chin, your lips inches away from his "you heard me~"

you killed him

good job, y/n

he would BEG that you call him that more often

B E G

like when you call him that, you catch him off guard sm and he doesnt even care that he just dies, he NEEDS it

and it doesnt matter where you are after that (if he's cooking or with the crew), the moment you call him that, he will sweep you away to anywhere private and lay shaky kisses all over you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear (accidently sputtering some in french too)

please keep calling him this and treat him like the pretty boy he is tee hee

~~~~~

one piece masterlist | pinned post | ko-fi

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[midnight-mourning]

1000 kudos/100 Follower Special!

wow so um, there’s a LOT of you now

👀👀👀

WHERE DID Y'ALL EVEN COME FROM LIKE?? HI!! 👋👋👋

AND ALSO

THIS???? CRAZY, incredibly appreciated <3 but also wild

anyway, I think that deserves celebrating! So, here’s a couple ideas I came up with for y’all to vote on, with the option of sharing other ideas in the comments, I’ll do the top two and save the others for the next milestone :)

If the 'other' option gets the most/second most votes, I'll do another poll with ideas that people suggested and we'll go from there. You can scroll down and click the read more if you'd like more info on each option! SO, having said all that:

Letting you guys make the call with this one! I have stuff prepped for all of it, just a matter of people voting since this is ME showing my appreciation to YOU. And again, next milestone will have the opportunity for the other choices :)

Also, this isn't just for followers/the moots either! Anyone is welcome to vote and participate if they'd like to 💙💙

Please also feel free to ask questions in the comments if that helps you with voting! Can't wait to see what you guys pick :D

I will expand on each option here for clarity in your decision making:

CS one-shot: I will write a one-shot (3,000-5,000 words prob) based in the CS universe. It will be canon to the fic but will never be mentioned/referenced in the fic itself so stand alone to read. It may be a future scene, may be based somewhere in the current timeline. Open to ideas on the POV and such (though I have some floating around that I can do ;))

Q&A/Ask the Cast: a classic, I know my ask box is open but here's also a clear chance to ask something that you've been really curious about! I won't share spoilers for the story, but everything else is on the table, including stuff about me, writing etc. Just no super personal questions is all! Additionally, you can ask the cast questions and answers will be in character, perhaps with a little doodle as well ^-^

Finished refs/busts for the cast of CS: I'll post the finished versions of the rough sketches I shared a few months ago, along with the remainder of the cast! This includes the rest of the engineering team, the division heads, the glamrocks, and the DCA! I also will include little blurbs for all the characters as well. This will probably happen eventually anyway BUT if you want them sooner rather than later this is you're chance if you're curious :)

Spooky Season one-shot: something halloween-related that again I'm open to ideas for! Would also be about 3,000-5,000 words in length, could be related to CS or not

Writing Requests: similar to the requests I did for reveal day, same rules apply (no nsfw, suggestive is fine, be specific if you want specific) but a little longer in length (500-1000 words)

Doodle requests: I provide you with a little drawing I made with tender love and care (would be lined, colored, shaded, etc.)

A peek into the drafts: I do in fact have a couple other fic ideas floating around in my brain that I simply haven't started so that I don't get bogged down/focus on CS. I would share those and a little bit of concept art

Other: explained above

[matty-bear]

hey! i love your fanfics. crazy idea, but what if Nick finally gets his lesbian tattoo artist bestie that he's been longing for?! a cross of the two perspectives. Also, crazy thought, what if the Lesbian has only come out to Nick and not the rest of the group, so Matt keeps trying to win her over, but Chris is sure she's got her mind set on him... OMG i would melt if you wrote this!!! (can it be from Nick and y/n perspective? if you think that'll work that would be amazing!!) love ya xx

0I, New Tattooist, New Romantic Tension 

type: request !

pairing: idk ! LOL (nothing romantic is gonna happen srry guys 💔)

warnings: SFW, fluff

summary: in desperate need for another tattoo, nick texts mez and asks for an appointment. unfortunately for him, she’s not gonna be available for quite a while. to save the boy's despair and cure his needs, mez suggests nick to go to you. it took a bit of convincing, but the oldest triplet ends up in the shop with you. who knew that the blooming friendship between the two of you would cause some issues regarding nick’s younger brothers to form ?  

notes: idk why finishing this took so long 😓 u guys don’t wanna know when i started writing this 😭 anywho hope u guys enjoy the first part of this ! not sure if it will be a mini series but i def know that i won’t be able to satisfy anon’s request in a single post :3 we need plot guys 💔 hope anon doesn’t mind that their request is gonna turn into a multi part fic 😭

WC: 5.6K

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“Guys~” Nick lets out a loud whine as he plops down on the sofa. He allows his head to fall back and rest on the back cushion, his eyes shutting momentarily as he shifts a little to get more comfortable. From the kitchen, both Matt and Chris stare at the brunette blankley. The two boys exchange eye contact for a moment before one of them speaks up. 

“You got boy trouble or something?” Chris asks as he turns on his heels and approaches the cupboard. At the boy’s question, Nick abruptly lifts his head and narrows his eyes at the younger boy. 

“Oh, please. I’m not a teenage girl, Chris. I don’t have ‘boy trouble.” Nick mumbles under his breath, his eyes rolling. 

“Then why are you huffing and puffing?” Matt chimes in, his light footsteps barely sounding through the house as he enters the living room. As the boy takes a seat on the opposite sofa from the one Nick is sitting at, the latter sighs again, this time raising a hand to run it over his face. 

“I need to get another tattoo.” The brunette huffs out. “It’s genuinely bringing me pain like I need to get one or I might drop dead.” 

Chris goes to open his mouth to comment on his brother’s statement, however is quickly cut off by the boy speaking again. “Is this what getting addicted feels like? Is getting tattoos my drug?” 

Matt lets out a breathy laugh as he raises the can of soda up to his lips. He takes a quick sip before he replies, “I’d like to think so.” 

“Why don’t you text Mez and ask if she can come over? You have her number for a reason.” Chris suggests as he sets a small skull-shaped glass on their marble countertop. As the boy pops open his can of pepsi with a loud hiss, Nick forces his lips together in thought. Matt silently watches with an unamused expression as the older takes his pointer finger and lightly taps it on his chin. 

“You know what, I think I will.” Nick declares, a wide, child-like smile spreading across his lips as he digs in his pocket for his phone. As the boy busies himself with searching for Mez’s contact, Chris mumbles a small ‘you’re welcome’ under his breath as he picks up his now full glass of pepsi and heads towards the living room. He cautiously takes a seat near Matt, being careful not to spill any of his previous beverage as he sits down. 

“Okay, what’s a good greeting message?” Nick asks, both of his thumbs twilling around his keyboard. Matt raises his head to allow his gaze to shift from his phone to the brunette across from him. 

“Are you serious?” The boy asks, his voice monotone. 

“What?” 

Matt takes a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to collect the remaining bits of his sanity and brain cells before he replies, “You don’t need a greeting message Nick. Just text her that you want a tat and ask when she’s available.” 

“Alright, alright. My God, no need to be so aggressive.”

“I’m not- Never mind.” Chris snickers under his breath as Matt leans back against the sofa, completely done with the current conversation. Nick flashes the boy an innocent, tight lipped smile before averting his focus back to the device in his hand. After taking a moment to allow the dials in his brain to turn, he finally begins to type out a text. 

After hearting the female’s message, Nick lets out yet another loud whine. The sudden noise causes Matt and Chris to divert their focus from their devices to look over at him. 

“Is she not available or something?” Chris asks, a single eyebrow raising as he eyes his brothers ‘distressed’ state. 

“No. She’s checking her availability right now.” Nick replies, a loud, dramatic sigh escaping his slightly glossed lips as he allows his phone to slip out of his hand and fall to the cushion with a soft thump.

“Well, you seem like you’re going through it right now so-“ 

“I am.” Matt narrows his eyes at Nick as the boy cuts him off. The brunette takes a deep breath to collect himself before he continues, “You seem to be going through it so I suggest that you go eat something. You know, to calm down your nerves and get your mind off you innerly dying.” 

“I have a feeling that I should be offended by that but I'm gonna do what you suggested anyways.” 

“I didn’t have any negative or hurtful intentions behind what I said but whatever helps you sleep at night, kid.” Nick gets up off the sofa with a soft huff, his eyes darting to his two brothers who have both returned to busing themselves on their separate devices.

The boy huffs softly and makes his way to the kitchen, the hollow sound of his platform shoes thumping against the wooden floorboards filing the house. 

Upon arriving at the kitchen, the brunette swiftly opens both doors of the fridge. The moment he goes to scan the contents inside, the feeling of his phone vibrating in his pants pocket causes him to halt his actions.

Without hesitation, the boy whips his phone out, the sight of Mez texting him back sending an excited spark down his spine. With a rather large smile, the boy unlocks his phone and opens up his chat with the mentioned female. 

It didn't take Mez very long for her to send Nick the tattooist’s Instagram. The brunette eyes the @ in the chat for a moment before sighing softly and copying it to his board. The boy didn’t know why he was so anxious about this whole situation. Mez wouldn’t try to set him up with another tattooist who’d do him dirty, right? 

right? 

Before Nick allows his thoughts to spiral, he quickly opens up Instagram and clicks on the magnifying glass at the bottom of his screen. In a few taps, the boy pastes the @ in the search bar and taps on the first account that pops up. Immediately, the brunette is greeted by your profile. The boy subconsciously hums faintly as he begins to scroll through the profile, his eyes scanning the countless numbers of posts illustrating the work you’ve done. 

It didn’t take long for the boy to be super impressed by the numerous tattoos you’ve done and the amazing quality each of them have. It seemed to him like some of your best works were simple lined tats with no color, which for him is a perfect fit for what he’s looking for.

While your colored works are wonderfully done, he wasn’t looking for media like that at the moment. The moment the brunette saw an Edward Scissorhands tattoo that you had made for a client about a week back, he immediately knew you were the one. 

With no further hesitation, the boy scrolls all the way back to the top of your profile. He taps on your bookings highlight and allows his eyes to scan the quick and simple information found there for a moment. Surprisingly to him, you have a lot of open spots. Who knew such a talented tattooist like you would have so many openings? 

Closing out of the highlight, his eyes immediately lock on the number in your bio. Unbeknownst to Nick, the boy began to grow a small, excited smile on his lips as he held his thumb over the number. When it highlights with a light blue color, he removes his finger and swipes out of Instagram.

He quickly opens up his messages app and the moment he goes to open up a new chat, a loud and sharp ringing sound pierces his ears. The boy immediately flinches at the sound, both of his hands shooting up to cover his ears in hopes of muffling the ringing. 

“Nick, shut the fucking fridge! What the hell are you doing?” Matt exclaims, his voice carrying a sense of irritation as he looks over at the older boy standing in front of the refrigerator.

Nick’s mouth shapes into a small oval as he raises his head and locks his eyes on the inside of the fridge. After allowing himself to come back to reality, he takes a few steps back in order to softly shut the fridge’s doors. 

“My bad. Wasn’t paying attention.” Nick apologizes, his free hand raising to rub his nape out of slight embarrassment. 

“You’re fine. You were letting all the cold air out. I was starting to feel it from way over here.” Matt reassures the male, the tone of his voice much softer than it was moments ago. 

“Dramatic ass.” Nick mumbles, his eyes narrowing as he shoots a quick glare at the younger boy. Matt simply shrugs at the brunette’s statement, deciding not to add to the conversation at hand as he brings his phone up to his face again.

Nick can’t help but sigh at the male, his eyes rolling as he turns on his heels to walk to the dining table. Instead of pulling out a chair and seating himself down, the boy stands behind the dark wooded furniture. 

When his chest hits the back of the chair, he subconsciously allows his left arm to drape over it, his right elbow resting on the back and bending upwards as he holds his phone up to his face. It takes a moment for the boy to remember what he was originally doing, considering how the fridge so rudely interrupted his train of thought. However when he opens his messages and sees the new chat holding your phone number at the top, everything comes back to him. 

Without a second thought, the boy allows his thumbs to type a message. After briefly scanning over what he wrote, he sends it with a confident tap. 

“WHOOP! WE GOT AN APPOINTMENT!” Nick exclaims happily, both of his hands shooting up in the air in pure joy. 

“With Mez?” Chris asks as he quickly reaches for the remote next to him. He quickly pauses the show that’s faintly playing on the television and turns his body slightly to give the older male his full attention. 

“No.” Nick’s arms shoot down and plop down on both of his slides with a loud slap. A small frown can be seen creeping onto his plush lips as he paddles out of the kitchen and back into the living room. He plops down on the same seat he sat in moments prior before Chris decides to continue the conversation. 

“With who then?” Both Matt and Chris knew that Nick was, as said previously, ‘attached’ to Mez. The brunette has stated multiple times in vlogs that he won’t allow anyone but Mez to tat him. You know, ‘until she gets sick of Matt going on random tangents about Wingstop’s spice scale.’ 

“She sent me another girl's instagram since she doesn’t have any available for a whole month. She does pretty good work, actually. Like I'm very impressed.” Nick replied, his lips slightly shaping into a pout as he faintly nods. 

“Wait, I wanna see.” In an instant, both Matt and Chris scramble off the sofa and seat themselves down on either side of the older brunette. With an encouraging nudge to the side from Chirs, Nick narrows his eyes at the boy and adverts his focus back to the device in his hand.

The boy has to swipe his screen a few times before your profile on instagram pops up again. When he goes to open his mouth to make a quick comment about your work, Matt snatches the device from his palm.

In response, Nick’s jaw drops and he slowly turns his head to look over at the younger boy who’s now focusing on scrolling through your account. The boy radiated major ‘old person energy’ in accordance to Nick due to him holding the device very far to his face, his eyes squinting slightly as his eyes scan the screen. 

“Now why would you think that snatching my phone from me is a good idea? You stupid fuck.” Nick asks, irritation laced in his tone as he seemingly stares bullets at the boy next to him.

At the sight of the latter waving him off and paying no attention to him, the brunette huffs heavily and turns his head to look over at Chris, who has an unreadable expression on his face. When the boy realizes the older is looking at him, his eyes shift over to him. 

“You’re just gonna let him do that?” Chris asks, a single eyebrow rising slightly. Nick simply shrugs in utter defeat, not knowing what to do. When he goes to reply, the sound of Matt speaking up catches his attention. 

“Holy fuck, look at his Eeyore.” The brunette gushes, his eyes widening and shining out of astonishment as he turns the device in his hand over so it faces his two brothers. Immediately, the latter two examine the detailed Eeyore tattoo done on someone’s calf. 

“Holy shit, it looks like she took it right out of the cartoon. That’s literally unreal.” Chris states, his jaw slacking in utter shock. 

“I’m telling you she’s really fucking good.” Nick says as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“So when’s the appointment?” Chris asks as he reaches to grab the phone from Matt. 

“This friday.”

“You know you need to upload and possibly edit that day right?” Matt questions the older boy with a single raised eyebrow.

“I know, Matt.” Nick replies sassily, side-eying the younger boy before looking over at his phone which is still in Chris’ grasp. “We’ll film the car video tonight and I'll spend all day editing tomorrow so I don't have to worry about it on Friday. I got it all under control, promise.” 

“Alright… But if the fans start having another freak out because your ass didn’t upload on time, don’t come crying to me because you planned shit terribly.” 

“Matt. I got it.” At the sight of the intense glare that Nick is sending him, Matt raises both his arms up in the air in defense. When the boy allows his arm to fall to his lap, Nick huffs softly, a faint thinking expression painting his features for a moment. “Can we go pick something up?” 

Matt’s eyebrows furrow in slight confusion at the sight of the older sending him a blank expression. “Like… to eat?” 

Nick can’t help but roll his eyes at his brother’s stupidness. With his pointer finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose, he replies, “No to own. I’ve decided we’re getting a dog today.” Before Matt (and chris’) stunned expressions turn into one of excitement, the brunette continues, “Of course, something to eat! I’m fucking starving.” 

Matt’s expression falls and shapes into one of disappointment before he sluggishly stands up. “Let’s go then.” The brunette mutters with a heavy sigh. 

Immediately, a wide smile appears on Nick’s lips as he hurriedly grabs his phone back from Chris and also stands up. Matt goes to open his mouth to ask the brunette where he wants to eat, however stops himself when the boy seemingly bolts downstairs and to the garage. As Nick’s rapid footsteps fade, Matt turns to Chris with an unamused expression. When the boy points at the staircase, which the older took moments before, Chris simply shrugs and gets up from his seat. 

“I’m kinda hungry too.” The brunette mumbles, his speech getting cut short as a yawn rips through him. Matt allows the younger to stretch out his sore limbs before he pushes his head and walks to the staircase. “Ow, mother fucker!” 

_____

After two days of conversing with you and making a few adjustments to the tattoos Nick wants, the boy finally finds himself in the car on the way to the tattoo shop. Matt is (obviously) driving the boy to the said shop and Chris has joined the two in his designated passenger seat.

The brunette told the two that he would ‘feel lonely all by himself’ so Nick reluctantly agreed to him joining. Now, the three boys are sitting in comfortable silence in the car, the faint beats of Melanie Martinez, Mac Miller, and Lil Skies all playing through the speakers. 

“When you said that you were going to get the tattoos done in the shop, I was a little surprised.” Matt speaks up, his soft voice cutting through the silence. 

Nick lifts his head up from his phone and looks up at the rear view mirror to momentarily lock eyes with the younger boy. “Really?” 

Matt shrugs his shoulders and focuses on the road ahead of him before adding, “I mean you always get your tats done at home. I’ve never seen you go to get one done at a tattoo shop.” 

Nick hums softly, his lips forcing together into a straight line for a few seconds. “Well, I've never gotten a tattoo done by y/n before and letting her in my house without properly getting to know her would be a little…” 

“It wouldn’t set right with you?” Chris asks, finishing the boy's sentence for him. 

“Yeah.” Nick nods his head in agreement before continuing, “Besides, y/n said that she's more comfortable in the shop and I would never want to make her uncomfortable.” 

“I love how considerate you are of other people, Nick.” At the sight of Chris turning in his seat to look back at him, Nick sends the younger a weary look and shuffles in his seat a little. 

“Thanks…” Nick mumbles, not really knowing how to respond to his brother’s sudden compliment. Chris sends the male a soft smile before turning forwards in his seat again. 

Comfortable silence fills the car once more as the three boys focus on their separate tasks. After a few minutes, the GPA displayed on the center console alerts Matt that they’ve arrived at the tattoo shop. The boy takes a quick glance at the illuminated screen before looking ahead of him and taking in his surroundings. When his eyes land on the shop, he nods faintly to himself and finds an empty spot to park in on the side of the street. 

“Do you want us to come with you Nick or no?” Matt asks as he pulls the gear shift down to park. 

The mentioned male quickly picks his head up, snapping out of the slight gaze he was in, before he looks through the windshield. “Uhh…” Nick trails off as he eyes the tattoo shop a few feet away. “I can go in by myself, it’s fine. You guys can go somewhere or something if you want.” 

“We can wait here for you.” Chris ensures the brunette as he turns back to look at him. 

“Alright. I’ll go in then I guess.” Nick mumbles softly as he reaches for the door handle. With a soft tug down, the door begins to slide open, allowing the boy to slip out of the car. 

“Have fun!” Matt exclaims with a small smile. Nick simply waves his hand in response and pushes the button on the door handle to shut it. After hearing the faint click, the brunette turns on his heels and begins walking towards the tattoo shop.

A sudden wave of anxiety washes over him and the boy finds himself biting down on his lip subconsciously as he walks down the pavement. Getting a new tattoo isn’t new for him so why is he so nervous? 

Upon stepping in front of the shop door, the brunette seemingly has a small stare down with the black, metal door handle. 

Don’t be a pussy, Nick. Just go in already. You're literally embarrassing yourself. 

With a heavy intake of air, Nick finally grabs onto the handle and pulls the door open. Immediately, the sound of the bell ringing above his head rings in his ears as a small greeting. The boy can’t help but wince slightly at the loud sound as he steps inside the shop. As the door shuts behind him with a soft click, the brunette takes a few moments to take in the new and unfamiliar surroundings. 

The interior was decently dark and decently large to say the least. Despite only being able to see the entrance of the shop, the male carefully examines all the furniture and decorations. Most of the furniture was black apart from the off- white tiled ceiling, framed movie posters which decorated the majority of the walls, and the occasional plants tucked in the corners or the front desk. 

Speaking of which, the moment Nick walked into the shop, a dark haired male twirled around in his spinning chair. He was sitting a little ways away from the front and after sitting up a little, his eyes landed on Nick. The male allows his eyes to study the brunette for a moment before he rolls closer to the desk. Upon reaching the dark furniture, he props his feet up on another chair nearby. 

“Newcomer?” The male asks, his slight raspy voice ripping through the silence in the shop. 

At the sudden voice, Nick flinches slightly and quickly whips his head around. At the sight of the male staring right at him, his brain struggles to search for a simple response. The male ahead of him can’t help but chuckle at the brunette ahead of him and reluctantly slips off the chair he’s perched on.

In a few steps, he stands directly behind the desk and bends his upper half to lean over the furniture. The male proceeds to drum his polished nails on the wooden surface, waiting for Nick to reply to his question. 

After a few moments, which seemed like an eternity for Nick, he finally opens his mouth. “Yeah.” He manages to get out. 

The male in front of him slightly nods his head and reaches over to the clipboard next to him. “You have an appointment?” He asks as his free hand begins to dig in a drawer nearby. 

“Yeah, I do. It’s with y/n.” 

The male yet again nods his head, this time with a soft chuckle. As the male retreats his hand from the drawer, a ballpoint pen now in his hand, he begins to flip through the pages in the clipboard. “That girl has been getting new bookings left and right. It’s fucking insane.” 

“Well, she is pretty talented.” 

“Oh, definitely. Gotta say she’s the most talented person in the shop.” Nick nods his head in agreement and finally begins to walk towards the large front desk. He silently watches as the boy in front of him scans the countless number of sheets in front of him, his pierced eyebrows furrowing slightly in concentration.

After a moment, the boy mumbles a small “ah” and taps the tip of the pen on the paper. He swiftly lifts his head and locks eyes with the brunette in front of him before saying, “Name please.” 

“Nick.” The boy instantly replies. 

“Alright, Nick. I’m gonna have you sign a few papers before I bring you to y/n’s space. Is that alright with you?”  

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Perfect…” The male mumbles softly. He turns on his heels to grab a small packet of papers behind him. When he turns back around, he sets the pack as well as a pen on the table and slides it towards Nick. “Here you go. Sit wherever you’d like and give me the papers back when you’re done.” 

“Will do.” The male gives Nick a small nod as he grabs the stack. As the brunette walks to the waiting room, the boy plops back down on his spinning chair, a soft sigh escaping his lips. The male begins to busy himself by pulling out a miniature sketchbook from the front desk and doodling small designs on the empty pages as Nick gets busy filling out the documents. 

_____

“I filled everything out.” Nick’s sudden statement startles the tattooist behind the front desk and snaps him out of his slight daze. The male quickly gets up from his seat and walks up to the boy with a small smile. After setting his sketchbook down, he sets an open palm out in front of him, gesturing Nick to set the pack in his hand, which he does. 

“That didn’t take very long.” The male comments as he begins to scan through the packet. “You sure you filled everything out?” He teases. 

Nick can’t help but squint his eyes at the boy before replying, “I’ve filled them out before so it really wasn’t that difficult to finish.”

“Have you now?” 

“Yeah. I’ve gotten tattoos done before.” 

“Really?” Silence fills the shop for a moment as Nick stares down at the male in front of him. After recollecting his thoughts and holding himself back from saying anything smart, he replies, “Yeah, I have a whole sleeve done and some of my leg.” 

The male hums softly, finally lifting his head from the packet to lock eyes with Nick. “Proof or you’re lying.” 

A heavy sigh escapes Nick's lips and he pushes down the strong urge to call you and get him out of this annoying predicament. What’s this dude's deal? After receiving a single eyebrow raise from the male in front of him, the brunette reluctantly rolls up the sleeve of his black zip-up. He turns his arm slightly to allow the male to get a quick look at the designs littering his skin before he rolls his sleeve back down with a faint huff.   

“Hmm. Nice.” Nick rolls his eyes yet again at the bland reaction he gets. As he crosses his arms over his chest, the male before him chuckles slightly and stashes the packet of papers in a vanilla folder nearby. “Shall I get you to y/n?” 

“Please.” After gesturing Nick to follow him with a single wave of the hand, the male slips out from behind the desk and begins to walk to the hall a few steps away. As he begins to walk off, Nick quickly chases after him. As he trails close behind him, he can’t help but allow his eyes to trail down both of his arms, which are filled with numerous tattoo designs. 

From what the brunette could see, there was not a single empty space of the male's skin, even his elbows held intricate designs. Before his gaze wanders further down, the male stops abruptly in front of a door. Nick, not paying attention to anything around him, bumps into the boy a little harshly, a soft ‘fuck’ escaping his lips as he stumbles back. 

“My bad.” Nick mumbles out a quick apology as he rubs his nape, the apples of his cheeks taking on a soft red hue. 

“You’re all good. Just be more careful when you’re staring at people.” The tatted male replies. The boy doesn’t allow Nick to defend himself before he knocks on the door they stopped at. “y/n! Nick’s here!” 

“Come in!” You shout out, your voice sounding muffled due to you being on the other side of the door. 

“You heard the woman.” The black haired male states. He sets a hand on Nick’s shoulder and squeezes the male's clothed skin before adding, “Have fun, kid.” And with that, he retreats back to the front. 

Nick stands in front of your door, his jaw slightly dropped in shock as his brain tries to comprehend what just happened. When your worried voice calls out to him, the brunette snaps out of his daze and quickly opens the door in front of him. Nick slowly pushes open the dark surface and peeks his head inside the room. 

“Nick!” You exclaim excitedly, a wide smile visible on your lips. “Come in, come in!” 

Nick quickly slips inside the room and shuts the door behind him, a small smile of his own decorations his features as he locks eyes with you. “Hey y/n! Great to finally meet you in person.” 

“Same here! Gotta say right off the bat, I absolutely LOVE the Edward Scissorhands tee.” At your compliment, Nick looks down at the graphic tee covering his torso, his smile widening ever so slightly. 

“Thanks!” The male beams. Nick takes a quick moment to examine your space, the room giving off a completely different vibe in comparison to the shop. The first thing the male took note of was the color of the walls. They were a soft pastel pink, which seemed to be the perfect shade considering how your chosen decor complimented the color perfectly. 

Speaking of decorations, the brunette could make out a few Sony Angles and other small figures set on shelves attached to the walls and on the main desk, as well as a few posters of presumably your favorite artists and shows. When his eyes locked on the Cry Baby and Portals posters, Nick couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped his lips. 

“You like Melanie?” The male asks, his jaw dropping in pure shock. 

“I love her! I attended her LA show The Trilogy Tour as well the K-12 Tour!” You reply with a wide smile.

“NO FUCKING WAY!” A small giggle escapes your lips when you watch as Nick’s jaw drops. 

“Yes fucking way.” 

“Bro…” A soft laugh escapes you when Nick rubs his face with his hands, a loud groan sounding from him moments later. 

“I fucking love Melanie. I have yet to see her live and it’s KILLING ME.” 

“Well…” You start as you roll towards your desk and pull out the main drawer. “When she goes on tour again, we can both go.” 

Nick’s hands slap down to his sides with a loud slap. “Don’t fuck with me…” The brunette states, his eyes narrowing as he sends a small warning glare in your direction. 

“I’m not!” You defend with a small laugh. Nick’s expression quickly shifts into one of excitement as you slip a small folder out of your drawer. “Now, I promise we’ll go back to talking about Mel but I think we should start getting you tatted.” 

“Oh, yeah! Where should I sit?” 

“In the recliner chair please. Also, do you mind rolling up your pant leg for me?” 

“Of course!” Without a word more, Nick scurries over to the wrapped recliner and seats himself down on it. After swinging both his legs over so he’s laying down fully, he sits up and reaches down to his leg. As he begins to roll up his pant leg, you roll over to him, vanilla folder in hand. 

“So.” You state as you set the folder on your lap. “You excited?” 

“Very.” Nick replies with a bright smile. You can’t help but smile softly at the brunette as you reach over to the nearby rolling tray holding all your needed supplies and pull it over. Before you go to grab the pair of black gloves, you freeze in your spot and furrow your eyebrows. Noticing the sudden change in your demeanor, Nick turns his head to face you, a worried expression instantly painting his features. “What’s wrong?” 

“There’s no music playing.” You mumble, a soft sigh escaping you as you sit up. Nick can’t help but chuckle at how upset you became over something so small. “Was it always this quiet?” 

“Yeah.” When the brunette softly nods his head, a frustrated groan escapes you. 

“Mike must have turned it off again. I swear to God, that dude drives me to the brink of insanity sometimes.” You begin to ramble under your breath as you walk towards the door. 

“Mike?” Nick asks, his head tilting to the side as he grows confused. 

“The dude at the front desk. He’s also the one that walked you here.” When Nick’s mouth shapes into a small oval and he nods his head in understanding, you reach for the doorknob and twist it to open the door. “I’ll be right back, hold on.” When you slip out of the room and shut the door behind you, Nick finds himself examining your room again.

He begins to hum a random tune under his breath and subconsciously bops his head along to it as he gets more comfortable on the recliner. After a few moments, the door opens and reveals you. When you step inside the room, you flash Nick a small smile and make your way over to him again. 

“Sorry about that. I needed to get the speaker since I let Jen use it for her last session. You don’t mind if I play some music right?” You ask as you set the miniature bluetooth speaker on the counter behind you. 

“I don’t mind it at all. I actually prefer listening to music while getting tattoos done. Helps calm me.” Nick replies with a smile. 

“Okay, perfect.” Whipping your phone out of your cargo pants, you immediately open up Spotify. After scrolling through your playlists, you finally settle on your go to one and push play.

As Red Wine Supernova By Chappell Roan plays on the speaker, you put your phone away and finally reach for the black rubber gloves on your tray. “So, before we start, I am going to prep your skin for the stencils. When that is finished, I’ll set the stencils on the area we discussed over text and move it if needed. And then, we can start. Sounds good?” 

“Sounds perfect.” Nick confirms with a firm nod of his head. 

“Alright, let’s get started then!” 

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[crusty-chronicles]

Hi there!! What about a Kite headcanon where his partner was doubting themselves, i.e didn’t think they were good enough to be with him. <3 you

Self-Doubts

Synopsis: It's a mystery how someone like you could have a partner who was seemingly perfect. It made you wonder just what exactly he saw in you. Though maybe you weren't the only one with these doubts.

An: I'm so sorry to whoever requested this that it took so long for me to get to!

It was no secret Kite was a good person. A man with seemingly endless patience and understanding. His profession was one of the more humble ones. A beast hunter who studied and gathered information on any new species. Hell, the animals practically flocked to him. The people he surrounded himself with were also pretty decent, holding him to the highest regard. 

There was just something about him that was easy going. Managing to diffuse even the most heated of situations. A level head on his shoulders that led to him making the right decision most of the time.

And the way he was with you…it made you think that he was perfect. He never missed an anniversary. Even when he couldn't physically be there with you, there'd somehow be a delivery of flowers outside your door. The times he was home, he made sure to make every minute count. Whether it was lounging on the couch or going on a date, you were together. 

If you ever had the opportunity to visit him on the job, he welcomed you with open arms. Excitedly showing you what he and his team had found. Loving and devoted. That's how you would describe him. He made it easy to feel safe and secure.

But some days, it really hit you how different you were. You didn't have some noble job dedicated to research. You weren't the most level headed when you were upset. Irritable even on your best days. You didn't have enough funds for fancy restaurants or special anniversary gifts. 

Compared to Kite, you had nothing to offer. Someone like him deserved a partner that could keep up. Someone who didn't hold him back because they were normal. Ordinary with nothing special to keep his interest.

Sometimes you wondered what he saw in you. 

What made you special in his eyes? 

It's not like he intentionally pushed you to think like this. No, he'd never purposely make you feel lesser. Not once had he ever made any comparisons. He never commented on your financial status or excluded you from his work. He wasn't the type to put someone down just because.

This was an internal struggle.

Something caused by your own self-doubts and observations. The ones that said you simply weren't good enough. That there had to be a catch. There was no way someone like him was in love with you. 

On days like those, your demeanor had shifted for the worst. Lounging around in bed curled up. Thinking, just thinking it was only a matter of time before he realized you were no good. He'd come in, break things off with you and leave. You'd never see him again, and the blissful memories of your relationship would diminish to nothing. You'd spiral, thinking of the worst possible scenarios before you'd snap out of it. 

It was both a blessing and a curse that he was never there for those moments. Insecurity was something that couldn't be helped, but you always felt stupid for it when he came back and showered you with his affections. Feeling ridiculous because it was obvious he loved you. 

But why was the question.

You'd never outright asked him. At least, not until today. It just so happened that today was one of the days where your insecurities were at their highest. And just who was it that surprised you at your door this morning?

Kite.

You tried not to let it show. To just enjoy the time you had with him. Yet you couldn't shake the negative thoughts from your head. A part of you knew that he knew something was off. Suggesting to stay in for your usual date night. You'd agreed, ending up cuddled on your couch while a movie played in the background. Your head on his chest, letting his heartbeat soothe your racing thoughts. 

It was enough. The closeness was enough. 

The sound of a phone ringing startled both of you. You got up and reached for your phone. No calls. A tired groan from Kite let you know it was coming from his phone. He sent you an apologetic look before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Kite! Glad to see I've got the right number.”

It was a voice you didn't recognize. Their friendly tone only made your heart start to race. When he'd said their name with familiarity, you'd officially started spiraling again.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you by any chance busy?”

He briefly glanced over at you. No. No he wasn't busy at all. You went to get up, wanting to give him some privacy. But he stopped you. Mouthing a ‘I’ll be done in a minute. Promise.’ His attention returning to the other person on the line right after.

“Why do you ask? Did something happen back at base? If it's serious I'm sure I can make my way there.” 

Always considerate. You wanted to tell him it was okay. That he could go take care of what he needed to. But…

“No nothing bad….I was just wondering if you'd like to accompany me to a nearby bar. I heard you were in town and thought I'd ask.”

But this wasn't something revolving around his work. And it scared you. He wasn't the type, but he deserved someone better. Maybe this person was better. A stable job. Patience and grace. Confidence. 

You wouldn't be upset if he said yes. He looked towards you once more before answering.

“Sorry. I'm spending time with my partner right now. If something pertaining to our work happens, you can call me back. Until then, have a good night.”

With that, he hung up. The question of why ringing in your head. Why did he choose you? Over who? You couldn't help but ask.

“Who was that?”

“One of my new co-workers for the time being,” he answered.

For the time being. Because different surveys required working with different people. A temporary colleague. Nothing more, right?

“And you're not gonna go?” you questioned.

Because you didn't want to hold him back. 

But it felt like he wasn't even entertaining the thought. Moving close to you and bumping his forehead to yours.

“Of course not. My days off are reserved for you. I'm away from you enough as it is.”

“We still have tomorrow. You should go enjoy yourself.” You tried again. It almost sounded like you were pleading.

He leaned back to properly read your expression. Though you were sure he could sense your negative feelings. Somehow know exactly what was running through your head.

“Why do you want me to go so badly?”

You struggled to answer. Usually you were able to quell your doubts. You would've been able to if it weren't for that phone call. Maybe you were selfish for wanting to keep him when someone better was offering. 

You wanted him to go because you weren't enough. 

You felt him cup your face. Trying to get you to look at him.

“Hey, what's wrong?”

That was all it took for you to say it.

“Why?”

He looked at you with a confused expression.

“Why what?”

“Why are you with me? Why did you choose me over them? I mean, they clearly sound interested and you don't gain anything dating me.” The words seemed to tumble out before you could stop them.

“Is that what you think?” Kite asked. His tone in complete disbelief.

“That I need to gain something to be with you? Where's this coming from?”

You didn't answer. You didn't know how. Choosing instead to ask what had been weighing so heavily on you.

“What does someone like you see in someone like me? You give me so much in return for practically nothing. So why? Why me?” 

He was silent for a moment. Trying to figure out the best way to approach this. To formulate a proper response. He knew what he wanted to say. But he didn't know if it would be enough. This wasn't something he was used to dealing with. How ever long you'd been dealing with this, he'd felt guilt for not picking up on it sooner. 

“Why you?” He repeated. It was obvious wasn't it? The same reason you'd stuck with him for so long.

“I chose you because I love you.”

And he always would. There was nothing more to it. However, it looks like that wasn't the answer you wanted. 

“But why?”

He'd caught on then. Inching closer towards you.

“Well, I like that you don't let people walk all over you. You stand your ground and you don't let other's opinions sway you. You give pushback when you think something's wrong.”

A hand placed on top of yours.

“I like how we can have conversations unfiltered. We can talk about practically anything. And how you always seem to know what I mean when something I say doesn't come out right.” 

Your personality and understanding. He'd loved you for those things. But was it really enough? Did that make your worth even? Did it matter if it didn't?

“I can't give you the same things you give me,” you started. 

You couldn't afford extravagant dates or gifts. You couldn't travel as often to see him the same he could you. You couldn't provide the same way he could.

“I'm not some hunter like you-” but he cut you off before you could finish.

“And I'm so grateful you're not.”

Moving even closer to you. So much so you could feel yourself letting your guard down.

“I like knowing you're safe. That I can come home and know you're there waiting for me. I don't have to stress out about you not coming back to me because of some job you took up.”

The whispers of insecurities were no match for him. Quieting down to nothing so you could take his words in full.

“We can just be together. Be normal.”

He didn't mind that you were ordinary. He wanted to come home to you. He just wanted you. You who was once again starting to realize how foolish you'd been.

“I love how understanding you are about my line of work. That no matter how long I'm gone, you trust that I'll come back to you.”

That you wouldn't leave him.

“You are more than enough for me. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky.”

He was so close you could feel the heat from his skin. 

Maybe your doubts hadn't been a one sided problem.

If you leaned any closer, you’d be able to kiss him. A comfort you didn't know you wanted until now. Face flushed from his declarations.

“You’re more than enough for me too.” 

Your lips brushing against his before he gave you a proper one. You were enough for each other in your own ways.

[2baabbies]

skz bingo; #7, she/her pronouns, with chan?? maybe some sort of bookstore meet cute where reader can't reach a certain book that's on a shelf just out of her reach, but chan is a little taller than her so he manages to crowd against her back and grab the book for her?? 👀 I don't mind either sfw or nsfw, whichever feels like it fits the fic best!

my dear, I couldn’t make chan taller for fear of excluding the tall girlies ;w; but I think I still worked it in well. and I hope you like hyunlix, because they’re in the background fulfilling my bookkeeper/florist couple fantasies. I also split the difference between n/sfw with extraflirty!chan, enjoyyy 🫶🏻

🖤 read me like a book (bangchan x reader) 🖤

Pairings: chan x reader, background hyunlix

Words: 1170 (I gave up on the world limit)

Humour + Suggestive (no smut) + Fluff

fem!reader

Request guidelines here!

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

Felix has been flirting with Hyunjin for over ten minutes, which is only a problem for you because he is sitting on the only ladder in the entire bookstore. The shop owner sits on the middle rungs as the florist leans against the wall and dramatically tells him about his morning. Felix clutches the bundle of white and yellow daffodils Hyunjin brought for him to his chest with a dreamy smile.

Residing on one of the upper shelves, out of your reach, is a new romance novel that you came to purchase. You steal a glance at Hyunjin and Felix, then continue glaring at your target. Now, it was not just the minor inconvenience souring your mood, but the envy of seeing the two men together. You felt incredibly unlucky in comparison to the perfect couple chatting away in the corner. You were tired of reading about romance, and more than ready to find it for yourself.

The tips of your fingers just brush the spine of one of the copies as you try again, and you sigh in defeat. Climbing the shelf would be entirely too hazardous, although you are getting desperate enough at this point to try it. You had been waiting for this book for months. But, as miserable as you were, you refused to interrupt Felix and Hyunjin.

“Hey there,” You look over your shoulder to face the man that speaks to you, “You, uh, look like you could use a little help?”

“I’ve got it.”

The speed in which you turn away is criminal. The stranger is incredibly handsome, and you would be damned if you let the cutest man to ever walk into this bookstore see the smut you were trying to pull off the shelf. He clears his throat gently and you peek over your shoulder at him.

“Hm, are you sure? I’ve got to grab something up there anyway.”

“O-Okay. I-If you wouldn’t mind…”

You are about to move when the man drops a stepstool behind you and springs onto it with ease. He braces one hand over your shoulder and leans in, his chest brushing against your back as he grabs the books. Your breath catches as he hops down again, and you will yourself to breathe as you turn around. You inhale sharply as he does not hand the book over to you, but flips through it instead. He then reads that lovely little page of content warnings- mainly kinks- listed by the author at the beginning of the book.

Your face burns as he hums and casually places it in your hand.

“Here’s your book.”

“It’s not mine,” You blurt quickly.

“Oh? Did you want a different one?”

You clutch it to your chest.

“N-No! I-I’m buying it… for my friend. I don’t read this stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” There is a troublesome little glint in his eye, “That’s a shame. That author is quite popular. Maybe you should give it a try?”

You squirm under his playful gaze. You wish you could just melt into the bookcase to escape this conversation.

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“It’s not… realistic…”

His eyebrows quirk but he looks satisfied with your answer. Felix interrupts the tense moment as he begins leaving the bookstore with Hyunjin.

“Hey, Chan, I’m taking my break now. You got an eye on the cash?”

“Yeah, mate, you’re good. I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Hyunjin gives you an excited wave, which you return shyly, as Felix adds:

“Oh, y/n, I put a book aside for you. It’s behind the counter. Chan, her name is on it.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you,” You murmur.

The doorbell chimes as the door falls shut behind them, and you are left alone with Chan. He kicks up the stepstool and catches it one hand.

“Well, y/n,” He coos in his lovely accent, “I’ll be at the cash if you need anything. Give me a shout if you have any questions, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

He winks and walks behind the counter, settling in and opening the book he pulled from the shelf. You stall for a bit, then steel your nerves and approach the checkout. Chan sets his book aside and smiles as you set yours on the counter. He finds the book Felix set aside for you, and it is the exact same book you pulled from the shelf.

The road to Hell is truly paved with good intentions.

Chan pauses then coyly asks, “I guess you don’t want two of these, hm?”

You puff your cheeks.

“No.”

He chuckles and begins ringing up your purchase.

“Okay, I won’t tease you anymore. You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know?”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

He side-eyes you playfully.

“Alright. Are you paying with cash or card?”

“Cash.”

You quickly pull the bill from your pocket and hand it to Chan. You are both quiet as he makes your change then hands it back to you. You count it then furrow your brow gently.

“Something wrong?”

“Um, it seems… You gave me extra.”

He checks the receipt then looks at your hand as you hold it out to him.

“No, it’s right.”

“You gave me a discount?”

You drop the change in your pocket and accept the book and receipt as he hands them to you.

“Of course. Pretty girls shouldn’t have to pay full price.”

You fluster.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to tease me anymore?”

He rests his chin in his hand and leans his elbows on the counter with a smirk.

“That wasn’t teasing. That was flirting.”

You clutch the book to your chest and duck your blushing face.

“Well…”

He giggles and the charming sound startles you to look up again.

“Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“I-It’s okay.”

“Hm?”

“Uh, you don’t have to stop.”

Chan smiles warmly.

“Only if you like it.”

“I, um, I do.”

“Okay then. Well, I hope your friend likes the book.”

“It’s almost worse when you pretend you don’t know…”

“Well, for the record, I believed you a little bit.”

“Sure.”

“I did,” He purrs, “And I would agree with you. I tried to read those books but they weren’t really my thing.”

“You did?”

“Mhm, like you said: it wasn’t realistic. If you’d like an example of something more realistic though, I’d be happy to show you.”

You roll your eyes as a grin breaks out on his face. Although he delivered the line with confidence, his whole face is flushed like yours.

“I’ll keep that in mind…”

Chan winks as you walk away.

“Have a good day!”

You rush out of the bookstore and pause outside as you notice something sticking out of the book you just purchased. You flip it open to see a scrap of paper with a phone number written on it. You look through the window of the bookstore to see Chan, giving you a fluttery wave as you piece it all together. You huff and cover your face as you stomp away, but you cannot suppress your charmed smile.

[conductoriya]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. :* BYF + RULES!

this blog, while containing my writing, also doubles as my personal account. i post a lot about jik, hq, a-24 movies, and other things that strike my interest, but i’ll mostly be posting about my writing.

please filter the tag #jjk spoilers and #jjk leaks if you are not interested in getting spoiled!

when it comes to interactions — i'd like to kindly reiterate once again that this is an 16+ blog. if you are interested in becoming mutuals, sending messages, asks, or liking/commenting on my posts, you need to be at least 16. i check those who follow me, and blank, ageless, and underage blogs shall be promptly blocked.

basic dni criteria applies. zionists, pro-ana, racists, etc. are not welcome here. please don't be mean to me or others! this is a j chill space and me and all my friends hate racists, homophobes, transphobes, etc! also no drama please! i'm just a girl and i do not want to deal with any kind of discourse so please leave me out of it <3

when with regard to my inbox — i know in the past i answered & allowed pretty much everything and anything, however now i would like to look in my inbox and not be met with a long paragraph of a trauma dump/vent! as kind as i may seem, i am not a therapist and things trigger me too! as much i love interacting with you guys, please think twice before sending in something :)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. :* WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING!

i write only SFW currently, at most suggestive content. comments, reblogs, and asks allegedly motivate me to write more and will be highly appreciated! requests, please do not send me a whole essay, only 3 to 5 sentences is fine! some things i won't write: scat, noncon, kidnapping, piss play, vore, vomit, step-cest/incest, and more will be added as necessary. i reserve the right to refuse any kind of requests for any reason, please do not take it personally.

super busy being a very cool and tired girl in uni & working 2 jobs , so please be patient when it comes to updates. i write when i have the time to, but i will try my best to cover everything! nov-feb is probably when i will exhibit the most activity.

• do not translate my writing

• do not repost my work on other platforms

• while i love a good correction here and there, please no criticisms about my writing! i'm here for a good time, so make it a long time <3

• i primarily write afab! or fem!reader perspectives but if you would like a gender-neutral piece, please specify in your request!

• all characters are aged up.

• no plagiarism :( i will clock you.

• if you're interested in requesting, please go through the list of things i won't write first!

• request status: closed.

these are just some of the characters i specialise in. i am open to writing for more, but at the moment, these are what i feel comfortable with!

JUJUTSU KAISEN — gojo satoru, geto suguru, shoko ieri, sukuna ryomen, megumi fushiguro, choso kamo, yuuji itadori, toge inumaki, maki zenin, nobara fushiguro, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, shiu kong, higuruma hiromi

HAIKYUU — miya atsumu, hanamaki takahiro, iwaizumi hajime, suna rintarou, miya osamu, kuroo tetsuruo, bokuto koutaro, akaashi keiji, matsukawa issei, kageyama tobio, oikawa tooru, ushijima wakatoshi, kenma kozume, hinata shoyo, nishinoya yuu, semi eita more to come.

© CHOSOSCAMGIRL ! — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[kittykatkatelol]

★Welcome to our Hell lovelies<3

(accessible, plain text, no flashing intro here: link)

This intro mainly involves our host, since loverboy fronts the majority of the time - for info of our headmates, our pronouns.cc is linked

You can call me Daimon/Daímonas, Faraday, John, Maxwell, Dixie, Vulpes, Viktor, Val/Valentino, Micah, Barty, Makarov, or Jack

My pronouns include (but are not limited to): it/itself, loverboy/loverboyself, moth/mothself, ne/nem, he/him, ve/vem, luv/luvself

I'm genderfluid + xenogenders + mspec biromantic lesboy ~ oriented aroace - asexual + ACRflux + greyromantic ~ physical nonhuman + fictionkin + demonkin + ockin + therian + ~ cripplepunk ~ adhd + autism(?) + bpd(?) ~ endogentic system ~ polythesist satanist ~ multishipper

My links: A03 ~ Pronouns.cc ~ StrawPage ~ Please ask for SimplyPlural + Discord + Roblox ~ my memories of hell+my demon appearance ~ filter tag list ~ my rdr2 side blog @shhhhtotallynotmicahbell

This blog is 13+, I curse like a sailor and reblog/post suggestive shit. I try to tag things appropriately, but I am not responsible for whatever you may find here - I suggest you leave if you are under 13

The main content is shitposts + reblogs + occassional art and/or oneshot/fic update

thomas jefferson's (from hamilton the muscial) biggest fan - the number one hermes defender - biggest hater of the brotherhood of steel

Extremely biased lover of Caesar's Legion (We acknowledge they are awful but again, biased as we have a Vulpes Inculta fictive, along with our host being a Vulpes Inculta as well) - Legion hate will be made fun of if brought to our table(askbox). We request you leave your NCR love and Legion hate at the door, please and thank you as such comments could set off our Vulpes fictive.

My highest kin(s) is currently Faraday from Fallout 4: Far Harbor + Dixie from Fallout 4: Nuka-World + Vulpes Inculta from Fallout New Vegas

My full kin (fictionkin + otherkin + therian) list:

Valentino from Hazbin Hotel

Barty Crouch Jr from Harry Potter

Roxanne Afton a FNaF OC of mine

Micah Bell from Red Dead Redemption 2

Demonkin

Vladimir Makarov from the OG COD MW trilogy (specifically mw3)

Maxwell Roth from Assassin's Creed Syndicate

John Hancock from Fallout 4

Dixie from Fallout 4: Nuka-World

Funtime Foxy from FNaF

Faraday from Fallout 4: Far Harbor

Kellogg from Fallout 4

Vulpes Inculta from Fallout New Vegas

Viktor from Arcane

Jack Kennedy from DSaF

White Persian Cat therain

Roxanne Wolf from FNaF Security Breach

(otherlink) Sylveon from Pokémon

(questioning) Negative Karma Lone Wanderer from Fallout 3

(questioning) Octavian from Percy Jackson

(questioning) Silco from Arcane

(questioning) Alice Angel from Bendy and the Ink Machine

(this is subject to change at any time)

My current fixations are currently:

Fallout

COD (just all of it it's a big special interest)

-

My favorite music artists are:

Scene Queen

Yungblud

Falling in Reverse

Palaye Royale

Marina

Melanie Martinez

Baby Bugs

Olivia Rodrigo

Måneskin

Mitski

-

My fandoms/interests:

Fallout

Arcane

Hamilton (musical and historical)

EPIC the musical

Death Note

Heathers (both musicals and movie)

Little Nightmares 1 & 2

FNaF

Cooking Companions

Percy Jackson (I have only finished the first series, and I do not want spoilers, hence why I don't interact with the fandom but i really like it lol)

Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss (literally no clue what the creator did but I don't support her since I watch it all pirated and don't have the money lmao)

Call of Duty (I love all the early stuff (haven't played any black ops though) but especially the original modern warfare)

SIX The Musical

DSAF (specifically the 1st and 2nd ones, I don't particularly enjoy the final one)

Red Dead Redemption 2

Heartstopper

My Little Pony

Legend of Korra

Hunger Games

-

Current favorite songs:

(all of theses lists are subject to change at any time)

I tend to use typing quirks (example: Hello ! / what ? / Hmm , / Huh .) or cursive fonts ~ please tell me if you need me to not use said quirk(s) when replying :)

I use tone tags quite often since I myself have a hard time figuring out other entities tones - you do not have to do the same for me though it would be highly appreciated

DNI: anti-xenogenders/neopronouns ~ TERF ~ anti-endo ~ sys-med ~ homo/transphobic ~ anti-fictionkin ~ anorexia/ED blogs ~ christian centered blogs ~ Valentino hate blogs ~ just assholes in general

My boundaries are:

no sexual stuff ~ I might be Val but that doesn't mean I like sex

no mouth gore/puke ~ i genuinely hate it and it makes me ill (I'm cool with most gore but mouth stuff just grosses me out)

no weight comments like ever, please

no sending things of dead moths

no sending me stuff specifically about Val getting tortured

no asking me to donate to stuff through asks, especially if I don't know you ~ I'm not financially independent and just don't have the cash even if I wanted to donate ~ any asks asking that will be deleted

I love being tagged in stuff, but if it is a picrew, I request you don't tag me in it IF it the whole game is "make irl you" or something along those lines

do not involve me in shipping wars

I am okay with Angel Dust kins interacting, but please do not try and befriend me

I request no fellow Valentinos try and befriend me (aka please no doubles - the rest should be fine though)

Do not bring DiMA hate to this blog, it will not be tolerated

Also, I do not support JKR (the creator of Harry Potter) though I am still in the HP and Marauders fandoms - I dislike Harry Potter itself and only engage in the fandom side of things that is also highly against JKR

User tags:

val's little hellhole (for all general posts/shit posts, never reblogs)

heaven doesn't want me and hell fears me (vent posts)

the summoning circle (asks & strawpage asks+drawings)

valentino writes (for my writing)

charles tag !! (for my bestie @/bxtteryacid !! (you = bestie sorry not sorry >:3))

CJ tag :3 (for la bestie @/p4rty-rockaa :3)

hoarding moth (for identity reblogs 4 my hoard + posts about my genders)

moth val's art (for my art)

fictionkin asks/answers (for any/all asks/questions I get related to fictionkin)

the moth attempts to learn french (shit posting about me trying to learn french)

banner and pfp are both from Arcane. pfp by gagalacrax on twitter & editfandom on tumblr - banner by metrocat on tumblr

I'm open to questions about my identity(s) ~ intro may update in the future ~ Other than that, have fun :)

✨️ to be cringe is to be free ✨️

. .

. .

In all of my lives, I regret nothing.

I'd do it all again.

No hesitation.

-

Last up dated: 5/18/25

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

i didn't sign up for this!

IKE EVELAND - DAY 3

“Hey, welcome in!” Ike called out as he heard the bells above the cafe door ring. You walked in, shivering with a beige scarf wrapped around your neck, your puffy white jacket covered with snow as you shrugged it off before getting inside. It was nice, being in a warm and cozy small local cafe. You knew almost everyone who worked there, from how frequently you go there, even during rainstorms. You saw your favourite employee (though you always swear you don’t have favourites). Ike always had a somewhat special place in your heart; he was a novelist with a part time job at the cafe, and you were an illustrator. His books were always fun to read, as he showed you a few drafts, but he’s never published one.

“Ike, hey! Could I get-“ You started but Ike already interrupted you.

“The usual? Your iced coffee with three shots of espresso, two pumps of vanilla, chocolate syrup with caramel drizzle and whipped cream? [a/n: stop ok idk any drinks]” He recited, as you had always requested before. It was an extremely random combination, but you always seemed to love it.

“You remembered?- Oh, well, obviously, I always order it,” You said, chuckling, “Yeah, that’s what I’ll get.” He laughed a bit, then nodded. He made the coffee and gave it to you, as you handed him money.

“Have you finished another illustration, (Name)?” Ike asked curiously, leaning on the counter towards you.

“I don’t have anyone who commissioned me yet.” You told Ike, sipping the hot coffee with a sigh of content.

“Maybe you could illustrate the cover for… my book?” He asked hesitantly, fiddling with the golden chain on his glasses. You looked at him, dumbfounded. Ike finally published a book?

“You… got a book published?” You asked him, your excitement climbing. You’ve always wanted him to finally have a book on the shelves, mainly because his writing style was so unique and his books had always piqued your interest.

“It just got through editing. I still need to illustrate a cover for it, then I can publish it.” Ike said in a meek tone, clearing his throat.

“Congratulations!! I would love to illustrate for you! Okay, okay, so!-“ You started off at the mouth with excitement before Ike inevitably stopped you with laughter.

“Okay, okay, calm down (name)!” He laughed, pushing up his glasses, “First of all, are you free anytime this weekend? Maybe we could meet up, y’know, discuss a few things? Or… how does it work for you?” He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, a shy smile creeping up his flushed cheeks; he was very flustered about your excitement towards something that seemed so mundane for him.

“Yep, yep, I could clear Saturday if that’s cool with you!-“

“Woah, woah, if you have something important for Saturday, we can meet some other time, I don’t wanna like- Take up so much of your time.” Ike said sheepishly, leaning forward as you suggested having to clear a day just for him.

“Huh? Oh, no, don’t worry! It’s nothing important. Just a date that I don’t really want to go to.” You waved it off, chuckling quietly.

“A… date, huh?” Maybe I could take her out on a date… Ike thought as he got embarrassed at the thought. He’s been pining for you for a while, ever since he started to become your friend, “Uh, sure then… If Saturday’s alright, I can do that.”

That Saturday, he ended up meeting with her on Saturday at the cafe again, but just when he wasn’t on shift.

“So what’s your plan for the cover?” You asked, taking your drawing tablet out as he sat beside you after ordering two coffees.

“Uhm… I made a sketch already of what I wanted, I was just thinking that you could just render it?” He asked, taking out a page with a very rough but still talented drawing of his desired cover.

“Sure! It’s a very nice drawing, by the way.” You giggled when he blushed bashfully, shaking his head at your comment while you scanned his drawing to keep most of his originality in the cover while still fixing a few rough patches and such.

“So, uhm… Why did you not want to go on that date?” Ike asked awkwardly as you started to render his sketch on your drawing iPad, since he insisted you stay for lunch.

“Oh, I didn’t really like the person. Honestly just accepted the date to get over talking with them.” You shrugged, looking up for a moment at Ike while you took a sip of coffee, “Why do you ask?”

“Ah, nothing, just curious… Say, if I asked you on a date, would you accept?” Ike asked meekly, turning away from your face.

“Hm, well, sure.” You shrugged, the words not connecting in your mind while you drew, mainly focused on his art. Your response made him become bright red and very flustered.

“Oh- Ah, then… Would… you go on a date with me?” He stumbled through the words, looking down into his cup as he asked, expecting rejection.

“Huh? Oh, uh… Sure.” You replied, looking at him with a surprised expression though you sort of expected it at this point. You’d never tell him how obvious he was though.

[xenodile]

Goddess of Victory: Nikke - Story Recap

Chapter 10: Comrade

Following Ingrid's directions, Counters travel to the surface without delay and rendezvous with Absolute. The mood is...tense, to say the least.

Anis is the first to break the silence, commenting that with the 3 members of Counters, 3 members of Absolute, Shifty, and the Commander, suddenly it feels awfully crowded. Eunwha tells her that if she doesn't like she's welcome to take a hike. Anis cheerfully turns to the Commander and asks if she can do as Eunwha suggests, go home and take the day off, but her request is denied.

Eunwha whinges that she thinks Absolute being tasked with babysitting a third rate squad is waste of their time. Neon speaks up, saying that if they're third rate, then three is still a higher number than one or two. Anis eagerly agrees. Eunwha calls them both stupid and tells them to shut up, but Neon says it takes an idiot to know an idiot, and Anis again eagerly agrees. Eunwha grows visibly more irritated the longer the exchange goes on, causing Vesti to giggle. Eunwha wheels about and snaps at her.

Rapi reminds Eunwha that Absolute is not "babysitting", they're taking part in a joint operation. Eunwha scoffs at the idea. Counters cannot by any metric be compared to Absolute. Emma tells Eunhwa to stop making such a fuss, and just think of it as doing Ingrid a favor. And that if Eunwha continues being difficult, it'll end up on Emma's report.

Shifty tries to get everyone's attention but Anis seizes Eunwha quieting down to continue needling her, prodding at the fact that Eunwha fell in line as soon as Ingrid was brought up. Eunwha calls Anis a slur, and says that just because she's tolerating her idiocy does not make them peers or equals. Anis makes a show of pretending to be hurt, and threatens to tell Ingrid about Eunwha's potty mouth.

Their argument is punctuated by the sound of a gunshot as Eunwha draws her rifle and fires a round into the ground beside Anis's foot, threatening that the next one goes in her head if she keeps talking. Anis is shocked, but doesn't back down, getting up in Eunwha's face asking what her fucking problem is.

Emma and Vesti can only look on in awe, having never met anyone who's actually stood up to Eunhwa. Vesti quietly remarks that Anis...is really cool.

Shifty speaks up again, hoping to actually get the mission going. Alas she is once again ignored as Neon moves over chat with Emma and Vesti, commenting that as much as Anis gets on her nerves, she really is dependable in situations like this.

Rapi tries to urge the group to shift gears to their mission, but is interrupted by Emma coming over to greet her, and ask if what she heard from Ingrid about her memory wipe is true. She asks Rapi if she recalls where the two of them first met, and Rapi somewhat bashfully answers that they first met in the shower. Emma teases her to repeat Emma's first words to her, but Rapi gets embarrassed and says that she can't say such things in in polite company. Satisfied that Rapi's memory is intact, she eases up and doesn't embarrass Rapi further, even as Neon curiously inquires as to what they're talking about.

Finally it's Vesti's turn to greet Rapi, overjoyed that Rapi hasn't forgotten about her old friends. And finally, Shifty manages to get everyone's attention so they can commence the mission. Only for Anis to address her as Syuen. Shifty tells her that for the umpteenth time, she was at a training camp when that happened, and she is NOT Syuen. Anis demands she badmouth Missilis as proof, but Shifty just tells her she's being immature.

Rapi manages to get everyone back on track and Shifty reviews their directives. First off, they need to get moving, as they've already been in one place for too long and their chatter has likely attracted Raptures.

As the two squads start moving, Shifty reviews their operational goals: to investigate the region designated as "Area H" and secure fragments of the fallen Heretic, should they exist. According to operational records, approximately three months ago, Absolute and Matis successfully defeated the Heretic they encountered, but in so doing triggered an explosion that unearthed and ignited a vein of subterranean natural gas, making it impossible to collect any remains. According to long range scans, the burning natural gas has finally been depleted, making it possible to search the crater where the Heretics remains should be.

To summarize, they need to reach the center of the crater, acquire some fragment of the fallen Heretic, and return it to the Ark. With the mission parameters clearly set, Eunwha is eager to get underway and finish dealing with the likes of Counters. Anis is curious though, and asks Eunwha what fighting the Heretic was like. Eunwha tries to blow her off, but Emma answers that it came down to the wire, and both Absolute and Matis were nearly wiped out in the process. It ultimately came down to luck, as a bolt of lightning had struck the Heretic at the right moment for both squads to catch their breath and retaliate. Eunwha tries to shush Emma, but she insists that she's not going to endanger her team by hiding important information. Eunwha says again that Counters are not her teammates, they are a burden, but Emma cuts her off, reminding her that they've fought a Heretic of their own. Eunwha writes it off as dumb luck, and Anis chimes in that that means Counters and Absolute are in the same boat. Eunwha again tries to tell Anis that they cannot compare to Absolute, and Anis agrees. After all, Counters did much better fighting a Heretic that Absolute apparently did, and they didn't have Matis backing them up either. So really, Counters are the strong squad by far.

Eunwha suggests that maybe the Heretic was taking it easy on them. You know, on account of her being an old friend. She asks Anis how it feels to know her friend is a traitorous monster. Anis is about to swing when Rapi steps in and tells Eunwha to back off, but Eunwha snaps at her, calling Rapi a traitor and to not say Eunwha's name.

Eunwha's outburst stuns everyone, causing her to curse and stomp off away from the group as Anis mutters that she needs to lose her attitude. Neon says that it might just be Anis specifically she has an issue with, but Anis disagrees, saying she was just trying to chat and it was Eunwha that wanted to pick a fight. Vesti, eyes shining, walks up to Anis and asks if Anis could teach her how to talk back and piss Eunwha off like that.

Vesti explains that she's not very good at standing up for herself, and Eunwha can be pretty abrasive sometimes, so she'd like some advice on how to talk back to her. Anis is willing to help, but asks if Vesti is sure, given Eunwha seems the type to throw a punch if someone stands up to her. Vesti appreciates the concern, but reassures Anis that it's no problem as she's stronger than Eunwha by a wide margin.

Anis considers for a moment, then gets ready to share her wisdom with Vesti, but before she can, Shifty warns them of a large group of Raptures approaching their position. Vesti asks Anis to hold that thought, and runs off to deal with the issue. Anis wonders aloud if it's alright for Vesti to go off alone, but Emma tells her it's fine.

True to her word, less than a minute later Vesti returns with nary a hair out of place, having destroyed at least three dozen Raptures single-handedly. Anis is incredulous, having thought that Vesti was supposed to be the weakest link of the squad, but Emma tells her it's the opposite. Vesti is easily the strongest member of Absolute, despite her timid nature.

Anis mutters that looks can be deceiving, then goes back to her lesson with Vesti. She leans in and whispers something in Vesti's ear, saying that if Vesti repeats that, she'll shut Eunwha up in a snap. Vesti is aghast, believing that's a pretty harsh thing to say...though it isn't wrong. Just then Eunwha comes over to tell them to quit lagging behind, giving Vesti a chance to use her new technique.

With Anis's encouragement, Vesti's musters her courage and tells Eunwha to stuff it and she has no tits. Emma can't stop herself from laughing out loud.

Eunwha stares at Vesti, dumbstruck before saying that if she has time to mouth off, she's got time to move, and walks way. Anis and Vesti look on with disappoint, and Anis apologizes that her surefire technique didn't have the desired effect.

Emma runs after Eunwha and notices she's put out. Eunwha asks what Emma what she thinks of the matter, and Emma says that based on her estimates she'd put Counters in the top 10% of Nikkes in terms of combat performance, but then realizes by the blush on Eunwha's face that's not what she meant.

Emma teases that she didn't think a comment like that would upset her so much, and Eunwha asks again if it's true. Emma giggles and says she won't know for sure unless she feels them for herself, causing Eunwha to blush even harder and scold Emma for getting handsy.

The mood between the two squads stabilizes somewhat as the journey to the crater continues. Neon catches up with Emma and comments on Emma's minigun, to which Emma replies that it does pack some serious firepower. Hearing the magic word, Neon's eyes light up, and she begins quizzing Emma on her weapon attachments, ammo types, loadouts, and gear. Emma is a little out of her depth, admitting she just uses with whatever she's given and picked the gun she thought looked strongest.

But seeing how dejected Neon looks upon realizing she hasn't actually found another gun aficionado, Emma indulges her by asking if there's anything she would recommend to upgrade her weaponry. Neon is all too happy to share all she knows about The Way of Firepower.

Shifty comments to the Commander that despite the rocky start, Counters and Absolute seem to be getting along pretty well. They share in her worry, and Shifty adds that in retrospect, it's not too surprising, given that the two of them had a pretty rocky start on the Commander's first mission as well. She asks if there's anything on the Commander's mind since they've been quiet for a while, and begins wondering if maybe Emma's generous assets have been distracting them, but the Commander says it's nothing like that. Ever since meeting with Absolute, they've just had an uncanny feeling.

Before they can elaborate, Eunwha silences them, and begins communicating silently with Rapi in sign language. Commander isn't as familiar with hand signs, but is able to get the gist. They're being followed. Rapi and Eunwha nod to each other and move to the front of the group in sync.

Shifty remarks on how despite being at each others throats before, Rapi and Eunwha work well together during a mission. On the subject, Shifty asks if Commander is familiar with Rapi's history with Absolute. Commander hasn't, but says they'd rather hear it from Rapi herself, and Shifty agrees, chiding herself for gossiping about someone's personal life.

The squad continues to walk even as the sun begins to dip behind the horizon and the skies darken. Shifty identifies a large canyon ahead devoid of Rapture signatures, and advises they set camp near the edge. Eunwha confirms and instructs Counters to set up decoys, and Anis seizes the opportunity to continue badgering Eunwha, much to Vesti's delight.

Having successfully annoyed Eunwha, Anis calls for Neon and Rapi to join her in setting up decoys, but Eunwha requests Rapi stay behind and help Absolute secure the perimeter. Anis and Neon aren't sure what she's hoping for, but they don't object and go on their way.

With two-thirds of Counters stepping away, Rapi is left with her former squad, and a tense silence falls over the makeshift camp.

Emma asks outright, would Rapi ever consider coming back to Absolute? Eunwha says she'd never allow it, Rapi made her choice to leave them and the squad is better off without her. Vesti says that even if Eunwha says that, it's clear that she misses Rapi the most out of all of them. To this day, Eunwha always looks to the empty spot in their formation where Rapi should be, hoping to see her there. Eunwha tries to tells Vesti to stop, but she powers through, saying she misses Rapi too. She misses seeing her and Eunwha together.

Eunwha again tells Vesti to be quiet, and finally deigns to address Rapi herself. She needs to know. Why did Rapi leave them? After all they'd been through, how could she just walk out on them without so much as a goodbye!? Rapi doesn't answer immediately, as Eunwha asks her again, her voice starting to waver.

Rapi sits down and asks if they all remember their last mission together. Five Tyrant-class flying Raptures were encroaching on the Ark's borders, and it was on the four of them to deal with it. Vesti and Emma recall how difficult it was, and that Rapi and Eunwha had been the heroes that pulled them through it.

It was an accident. A stray grenade. In the heat of battle, as Raptures pushed into the Outer Rim, casualties were unavoidable. And yet this one was unmistakably her fault.

But that wasn't the worst part of it. That isn't why she left.

No what struck her was as she looked at a human being, blown apart and bleeding to death because of her carelessness, she was annoyed.

Because she'd have to write a report about it.

It was a moment of clarity. She was damaged. Broken. She was a Nikke, her mission, her reason for being, was to protect humans, and yet she treated the death of one as an annoyance. Her own callousness disturbed her. She didn't recognize the person she had become. She couldn't do this anymore. She had long since given up her humanity, and now she had failed as a Nikke. So she ran away.

There is a pause as everyone takes in Rapi's confession. Eunwha finally asks if that's really what it was about, and if Rapi ever once considered how any of them felt? She felt bad, so she just walked out on them, no explanation, no good bye, just a note left for Eunwha to find the next morning after she was long gone!?

How did she see Absolute? What were they to her? Rapi says that Absolute were her friends, but that only seems to make Eunwha angrier as she calls bullshit. How can Rapi say that she ever cared for them after she abandoned them? Partners don't treat each other like that.

Anis and Neon return to the sound of Eunwha shouting at Rapi, prompting Anis to ask if the goal is to attract every Rapture for miles. Eunwha goes quiet and apologizes for letting her emotions get the better of her, catching Anis off guard. Emma tries to diffuse the situation by asking if setting up the decoys went well. Neon says it was fine, but...they did find something rather unusual. With some effort, Anis and Neon haul their discovery into the light, revealing it to be a trio of unconscious Nikkes.

And not just any Nikkes, it's none other than the strongest Nikkes in the Ark.

Matis.