was booking myself a new tattoo and this is all i could think of !
this is just brainrot ramble
: ̗̀➛ hobie brown x gn!reader - giving him tattoos (and yourself)
thinking about giving hobie sweet little tattoos with a makeshift stick and poke set up. he'd come home drunk one night, slurring his words and holding you close to him, ranting about how he wants you to give him a tattoo (and something about not wanting to pay big corporations for a real tattoo gun). even if you’re not creative, he just wants to be able to look at his skin and see evidence of you, always. you refuse him at the time, telling him he's too drunk and he'll regret it. but when it's the next day, and he's stone cold sober, you walk in on him hunched over the kitchen table, making a little stick and poke creation.
so, it’s late at night, he’s sprawled out across your bed like it was his, his head and shoulders pressed into the headboard, eyes trained on you. straddling his lap, you held his arm up to the lamp, tongue stuck out in concentration. hobie winced everytime the needle met his skin, his free hand gripping at your thigh to outlet the pain. when you're done, and he's all cleaned up, he's lit up with pride, constantly checking his arm in different lights to see your design.
"it's perfect, darlin'," he mutters, his lips pressed to your forehead.
he’d very rarely ever wear sleeves again after that, always having your design on show to remind him of you when he’s away. not that he needed it, you always had a comfortable seat in the front of his mind. he’d show it off to his friends, though, all the time.
"oi, pav!" he'd call out to his friend, drawing his attention over to his exposed skin.
"you got a tattoo!" pav would exclaim, hopping over and inspecting it closely.
“my partner did it,” he couldn’t mask the grin from fuzzing his cheeks, “fuckin' sick, right?”
his heart wasn't even prepared for what he'd come home to that night. when he'd climb in through your window, shedding his spider-apparel and kicking his boots off by your dresser, he'd notice your sleeping form. smiling to himself, picking up the sheets and climbing into the empty space, careful not to startle you – not that it would, you were more used to waking up beside him than alone.
his hands wouldn't be able to stop themselves from touching you, needing to feel your skin beneath his fingertips, and beaming at the sleepy sound of his name leaving your lips. when his hands find your hip, however, you jump and groan in pain. he'd pull you to him.
"'the fuck 'appened?" he'd whisper, careful not to touch the area again, but be confused at your reaction.
"tattoo," is all he could catch, through your tired, and possibly pained, groans.
"you what?" he'd mutter, and lift the covers back, hiking up your his t-shirt to expose a tiny black design, sitting on the skin above your hip bone.
etched into you was a tiny spider, hand drawn and adorned with little spikes, similar to his persona. he'd be so taken aback, he wouldn't even know what to say.
"'s'this for me, sweetheart?" his fingers would very lightly ghost the dark outlines, honing into your body's reaction to it, steering clear of the painful areas. he's close to you, very close, and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.
"mhmm," you moan, your brain finally pulling itself from slumber, warm in the smell of him, tangling your arms around his neck, "all for you."
"fuckin' ell," he breathed before kissing you with such a passion you'd never felt from him before. he was drowning in you, head buzzed at the thought of something of him being on your skin forever, and you on his. heart pouring, he reached for you in every way he could.
he'd be obsessed with both of the tattoos, strongly encouraging you to never ever wear anything high-waisted again, so long as he steered away from sleeves. pride and happiness overtook him when he'd see you with other people, in public or with friends, and see the black ink peek through your clothes, knowing that it was for him, and nobody else.
he just loved you a lot, and he adores the permanent reminders.
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I know I've been saying this in my tags, but from birth to around age three Lo'ak and Jake Sully were mortal frenemies and they both loved it secretly.
Lo'ak's throwing food at Jake and kneeing him in the dick when climbing in or out of the sleeping pile day after day like it's personal AND intentional. Tantrums begin when Jake enters a room and end when he leaves because he's aware Jake will cave and Neytiri won't put up with that shit. Anything Jake leaves near his level will go directly in his mouth, it doesn't matter what that shit is. If Jake isn't watching him constantly he will kill himself straight up. Jake asked Mo'at once if babies who are not quite yet sentient could be suicidal. If Jake leaves him alone for more than an hour he will scream until Jake comes back. Unlike Spider, who Norm complains constantly about losing cause he can silently climb anywhere, Lo'ak makes his presence known at all times. Jake just carries him around in a wrap over his chest like he's a large and inconvenient fanny pack that might try to vacuum up whatever Jake and his warriors are working on if Jake bends down too far. Jake has an x-ray saved from Norm of the time Lo'ak swallowed a whole spoon somehow.
There's a month long period after Lo'ak learns to walk where he insists they hold hands to go anywhere and he won't say why but Jake is pretty sure it's because an older kid said something mean to him about his extra fingers, so he keeps doing it even though he's become a permanent hunchback. He complains but Neytiri says he won't act like he likes Jake forever so he should treasure it. He imitates everything Jake does literally all day like the worlds smallest stalker, and Jake can barely take a piss without turning around to find Lo'ak trying to piss the same way somehow. He tells Neytiri it's too disturbing to treasure but she is not convinced.
Around when Lo'ak turns four he deems Jake uncool and begins stalking Neteyam instead (rip to that poor kid, Jake prays for him), and Jake revels in his peace and quiet for about a week until he realizes he's actually really bummed out and Neytiri was right all along and he liked it when his kid liked him.
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