what's stopping you?

their little group

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

𐐪𐑂 ♡

sapnap is almost cross-eyed in concentration, his posture probably absolutely shocking as he leans down over dream's thigh.

the little smile is the smallest tattoo he has ever done, simply a colon and a bracket, and for some reason that makes him so much more anxious to get it right. this small, any mistakes would stick out so obviously.

when sapnap had done wilbur's tattoo, over a year ago now, he has been able to go quickly and with less precision, because the image was so big and shaded in that you would never even notice a shaky line or dot too dark.

on the bright side, something about their whole friendship group being sat on the floor a few feet away, cramped into the small space of his caravan with multiple portions of chips laid out between them, makes him feel a lot more at ease.

he listens absently to the conversation they're having as he watches the ink pool slightly.

"yeah, i managed to drive back from my mums the other day," tubbo says proudly, dipping one of his chips into the curry sauce.

"and then we got to watch star wars," tommy adds happily.

"may divorce be with you," tubbo mumbles, the joke slipping from his mouth without even having to think- it earns him a few real laughs.

"whose car have you been driving?" wilbur asks from where he's sat on one of the chairs, pulled up right close to dream. he pretends like he's just watching, but sapnap knows that he's sat that close for dream's comfort more than anything.

"my uncle's," he answers, "he's got two so he said i could use one until i pass and can buy my own."

"oh my god!" tommy exclaims, his posture fixing itself amid his excitement. "you guys talking about cars just reminded me! i found mr marriott on youtube!"

"what?" jack laughs, raising an intrigued eyebrow. "on youtube doing what?"

"he makes songs," tommy answers, voice distant as he focuses on getting his phone out and making his way to his youtube history. "he has a song called car lights, that's why i thought of it."

the group fall simultaneously silent as the strum of a guitar, followed closely by the unmissable sound of their teacher's voice, spills into the room around them, accompanied only by the buzz of sapnap's tattoo gun.

"it's not bad," george says, bopping his head along lightly. "i kind of like it."

"no wait, listen to this part," tommy tells them, skipping past the first two minutes. he hums along, having listened to it more than once already, and dramatically head bangs as the drop comes in, "you can hold my hand! in a crowded place! but just hold me close! and hope that they don't see my face! why don't you come right here?! let's see how you taste-" he stops singing along and pauses it. "how sick is that?!"