#tattoo removal shop near me

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You run into the last person you wanted to see in Annapolis, which leads to you and Bradley fighting over the phone.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing and smut

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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"Oww!!" You were trying your best to keep it together as your friend Caleb gave you your first tattoo. But you weren't sure if the location was extra sensitive, or if you were just a gigantic baby, but it was hurting a lot.

"Let's take a little break," he told you, gently wiping your skin before he removed his gloves and went to get you a bottle of water.

You glanced down your body to where your leggings were pulled part way down, revealing a half finished tattoo that was clearly dedicated to Bradley. 

Oh my goodness, you'd actually done it. The idea occurred to you when you were first engaged; a hidden tattoo that only he would see. Well, him and your doctors, and perhaps someone who saw you in a bathing suit. But even your bathing suits were probably not skimpy enough to show off the single-line Rooster that was going to be adorning your skin near the left side of your pelvic bone, between your pussy and hip.

"We're almost done," Caleb promised as you drank. "You got five more minutes in you?"

"Yes," you managed to say, watching him wash his hands and grab a new pair of gloves. "It'll be worth it for the surprise wedding gift."

With a laugh, Caleb adjusted your leggings and got to work once more. "I'm pretty sure Bradley is going to freak the fuck out when he sees it. No joke, I would lose my mind if Jess ever did anything like this."

"That's what I'm counting on," you groaned through clenched teeth. You tried to take deep breaths and pretend you were at the beach, taking Tramp for a walk as the needle made you want to cry. 

"Nearly done," Caleb mumbled, and now you were biting your finger to keep yourself still. You were panting by the time he finished and wiped you clean one final time. "Here, check it out with the mirror. Looks pretty cool."

You propped yourself up on one elbow and took the mirror from him. You gasped softly as you examined yourself. "I love it! It's perfect! Tiny and cute and just perfect!"

While Caleb taped plastic wrap over the rooster to cover it while it heals, you argued with him over payment. 

"It's on the house," he insisted.

"That ridiculous! How much would you normally charge?"

He just laughed and said, "It's dainty, and it was your first time, so I'd charge the shop minimum. But you're going to pay nothing and consider it a wedding gift. Congratulations."

"Thanks," you told him with a hug, only feeling slightly bad that he was insisting you skip payment. "But if I come back for another one, I'm paying full price."

"Sure, whatever you say."

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

Bradley was sitting in your car in the driveway. He was already running late, because he missed you so much he could barely function. And because he had stayed in bed too long jerking off to the dirty videos of the two of you. And now your car wouldn't start for him.

"You fucking piece of shit!" he scolded the dashboard. He had moved the seat back as far as it would go, and he could still barely fit. His head was almost touching the roof, and the seatbelt felt like it was smothering him. "I swear this is the smallest car ever made. Can't be safe."

Then he remembered that he promised you he'd treat the car nicely. So through gritted teeth, he gently ran his palm along the steering wheel while he tried one more time to turn the key. 

"For some reason she loves you, so will you please be nice to me?"

The car magically started, and he was finally on his way to work. He thought about how much better the Bronco was while he drove, but he didn't dare voice his opinions out loud. It was only Monday, and he needed this thing to be agreeable for at least a few more days. 

Bradley knew you were busy. He knew you had spent the entire day Sunday with your parents, but he was still craving even just a phone call from you. He thought about calling you now, but the last thing he wanted to do was be a nuisance this week. 

But his phone rang as he pulled into the parking garage, and he scrambled to answer. "Sweetheart!"

"Bradley! I only have a minute," you told him, and he could tell by the amount of background noise that you were already in the conference hall. "Just wanted to check on you and Tramp."

"We're good, Baby Girl. Just miss you."

"Listen, I've got all these dinners and cocktail hours all week, but I'll call you when I can, okay? Text me! I love you!"

Bradley made his way to the classroom and took a seat next to Nat. "How you holding up? I never thought I would see the day when you were a lovesick mess, waiting for your wife to return home."

Bradley grumbled. "Almost wife. And I fucking hate her car. She's so nearly perfect, like literally my ideal woman, but her choice of vehicle honestly makes me question her sanity."

"Of course she's fucking crazy. She's with you."

Being three hours behind you all week made things even more interesting, but when Bradley was fixing himself a bowl of cereal for dinner around 7 on Tuesday, he was surprised to see you were texting him. 

I miss you, Roo. We could definitely manage to break this bed together.

Just as he was about to write back and tell you exactly how he'd take care of you and the bed, a few images appeared in the thread. In the first one, you were naked and all wrapped up in the white sheet, your hair a mess and you had that hazy look in your eyes that told him you'd had a few drinks. 

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as two more images came through. You knew what that ring on your finger did to him. And you decided to tease him anyway. 

The picture of you with your left arm covering your hip, slipping your middle finger inside yourself had him unzipping his shorts. The diamond ring sparkled in the light, and your manicured nails against your pussy looked so pretty. 

He called you over facetime immediately, looking through the pictures while he fisted himself. 

"Roo," you gasped. Your room was dimly lit, but he could tell you were masturbating. You must have just taken these photos before sending them.

"Baby Girl," he groaned, and you whined in response. God, he loved that sound. Loved it when you were a needy, spoiled princess for him. 

"Get me off! Talk to me, Bradley, and get me off!" you demanded, tilting the phone so he could see your pleading face before shifting it to show off the rest of your body.

"You have the prettiest little pussy, Sweetheart. Yes, use your fingers, just like that. Nice and slow. Add a second one to fill you up."

You were moaning louder now, swiping your clit with your thumb. 

"Show me your face. Look at me," he told you, gripping himself tight as you guided your phone up to your face. He scolded you whenever you let your eyes drift closed, demanding you look at him while you came. 

"Bradley," you gasped, your head tipping back, but your eyes stayed on his as you made all the little noises that he would forever associate with pure sexual bliss. 

"Good girl," he told you as you rode your fingers to completion. After a few more pumps of his fist, he had made a bit of a mess in the kitchen for himself to clean up. 

You bit your lip and sighed softly. "I miss you. When I get home, can we make another video together where you call me your dirty little slut?"

He just grunted in agreement. "Anytime you want, Sweetheart."

Bradley let you start to doze off as he talked to you, only telling you to hang up and charge your phone before you fell asleep completely.  

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

Every lecture you attended was fascinating. Every cocktail hour was a great chance to network. And every dinner with your team brought everyone closer together. But you were getting tired of socializing. All you really wanted was to be home with Bradley, eating dinner on his lap and listening to his playlists. 

"Everyone ready for tomorrow afternoon?" Bickel asked on Wednesday evening during dinner just off base. "We've got lecture hall 7 starting at 10:00, so we should have plenty of time to run equipment tests."

"Ready," you promised him as the others agreed. You weren't nervous at all, just excited to share your work. The thing you were most worried about was how itchy your tattoo felt now. It was covered up and healing, but you couldn't imagine giving an hour long lecture in your polyester uniform pants successfully at the moment. 

At least you had managed to keep it covered with your arm while you and Bradley had your facetime call last night. 

You smirked and excused yourself to use the restroom, running your palms over your dress as you wound your way through the restaurant. When your fingers touched your tattoo through the fabric, you actually giggled. You had decided you'd let Bradley find it on his own when you got home on Saturday afternoon. You'd be exhausted from your week by that point, but you still couldn't wait to see what he thought about it.

You were excited for tomorrow's presentation. And on Friday night you'd be out with the Admirals. The Admirals! 

You finally turned the last corner, but you weren't looking where you stepped. It was too late as you felt yourself collide with a man, and then you heard a familiar voice as he said your name. 

His hands came to rest on your arms, steadying you as you felt a cold, horrible feeling wash through your body. 

It was Josh. It was Josh, and he was touching your bare skin, and his face was next to yours. 

"Oh, my god," you gasped, trying to pull out of his grip.

"Shit, it is you," he whispered, finally letting go of you as you wrenched yourself away. 

You stood just staring at each other as you inched slowly away. Some remote part of your brain recognized that you were safe, you were surrounded by people walking to and from the restrooms. You didn't need Bradley or Jake or Bob. But you still felt clammy and uncomfortable. 

"Didn't expect to see you in Annapolis," Josh drawled with a thoroughly disinterested look on his face. "You here to get me kicked off of another base? Get me demoted again?"

"Josh," you whispered, gathering your thoughts. "I'm here to give a presentation."

"I know. I saw your name on the keynote list. I should have been part of that project."

You scoffed. "You should have kept your hands to yourself. And I was never going to choose you, I was always going to keep Sonya."

He laughed bitterly. "Okay, now that much I do not believe. You can say what you want, but I'm not blameless here. You gonna get your huge boyfriend to hit me again, just for fun?"

You pressed your lips together before you said, "Fiancé now, actually."

Josh's gaze dipped down to your hand, but you didn't make the ring any easier for him to see. You didn't even want him looking at it. It was yours. 

Then your mind wrapped around his words. "What do you mean? Hit you again?"

"Is he here?" Josh asked, glancing behind you. 

"No, he's in San Diego, but if I call him, he'll be on the next flight. What do you mean by hit you again?"

Josh shook his head slowly, and you could see in his eyes how much he hated you now. A chill went through your body, but you didn't move an inch. 

"You were there that night, at the bar. I assumed you sent him over to head me off. Him and that blond guy, too."

Your eyes went wider as you pictured Bradley and Jake hauling Josh out the doors of the Hard Deck. Your face must have given you away.

"So you didn't know he punched me in the face then?"

"No," you whispered. Now you were angry at Bradley and Jake, but you were even angrier at Josh for making you remember with vivid clarity the way he had touched you, all while he was standing right in front of you.

"He broke my nose and my ribs. I thought about calling the police. Getting him arrested."

A bitter laugh escaped you as someone nudged past you to get to the ladies' room. "Really? What stopped you? The fact that I would have reciprocated by turning you in for physical and sexual assault? You've got a lot of nerve even talking to me right now, so let's wrap this up. Is there anything else you'd like to say to me?"

Josh eyed you from head to toe, his gaze lingering on your chest for a few seconds before he shook his head. "Just that you weren't worth it. You seemed so fucking easy too. I'd hate to be engaged to you, the way you flirt with other guys like some kind of skank."

"Get the fuck away from me," you said, hating the way your voice shook. "Chelsea told me you did that shit all the time, and I was never even interested in you. You're a pig." 

As he got himself in your personal space, you just wanted Bradley. But you forced yourself to hold your ground.

"And you're a bitch," he snapped next to your ear. 

You sucked in a breath and swallowed hard as he strode away from you as you muttered, "Fuck you." 

When he was out of sight you ducked into the bathroom and locked yourself in a stall. You hated the fact that he could get you so rattled. And you were steaming mad that apparently Bradley and Jake had pulled Josh aside, and everybody neglected to tell you about it. 

You needed to get a cab back to your room so you could be alone and call the one person who would tell you the truth.

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

Everyone was obsessed with his home gym. It really seemed like the silliest thing for his friends to be envious about, especially since Bradley was always inviting them over to use it. He filled up a huge jug of water and grabbed his speaker before taking Tramp out back with him and heading toward the garage where everyone was already gathered.

"Holy hell," Nat muttered. "No wonder he's out here working out all the time. Look at this one!" 

Bradley found Nat, Bob and Jake all huddled around the calendar where it hung on the wall, flipping through the pages. 

"That's so pretty. I love how the photographer used the negative space to make a statement," Bob said.

Jake laughed. "I think you're supposed to be noticing her legs."

Bob stuttered. "Well, I...I just would never look at her that way. So let's be respectful."

Nat shrugged. "I am respectfully saying that I can understand why Rooster is so pussy whipped. Look at this!" She was pointing to the November photo with you in black lace, garters and stocking, and Jake let out a low whistle. 

"Will you please stop looking?!" Bradley scolded, and Nat let go of the calendar like it had burned her.

"We weren't being crude," she replied with a smirk, but Bradley growled and carefully unclipped the calendar from the wall. 

"August is my personal favorite," Jake commented, and of course that was the one Bradley liked because your tit was out.

He eyed them all up. Nat and Jake were both still smirking, and Bob was beat red and looked like he wanted to disappear. "I know she's sexy. I know it's a marvel that I'm with her. I know I am pussy whipped. I know, okay?"

"Just as long as you know," Nat said with a laugh. 

Bradley tucked his calendar carefully into a plastic tub of photos from the storage unit before turning on a playlist. "You've all seen more than enough of my future wife. Let's start this damn workout."

Without another word, everyone grabbed some weights and got to work. Bradley was lifting while Bob spotted for him when he heard Jake's phone ring. 

"Angel, how are you?" Jake drawled, and Bradley quickly set his barbell in the holder and popped up.

"What's wrong? Did she try to call me?" Bradley asked, walking over to his phone. Nothing.

"Whoa, whoa! Angel, calm down! That's not even what happened!" Jake was getting louder and pacing around.

"What's going on?" Bradley demanded, and he was answered by a hand held up in his face. 

Now Bob and Nat were looking concerned as well. 

Jake's eyes went wide and darted toward Bradley's, panic stricken. "You saw Josh tonight? In Annapolis?"

"Give me the phone!" Bradley thundered. 

Jake just held his hand up again. "Angel, you know how I always have your back? I have Rooster's back too, I promise. Everything was under control that night at the Hard Deck." 

"Now!" Bradley added, ready to take it away from Jake.

"He's about to rip my phone out of my hand, so I'm going to give it to him, okay?"

Bradley reached for the phone and juggled it until he had it to his ear. "What is going on?"

"Bradley! I can't believe you punched Josh and never told me! You and Jake both!" you shouted into the phone.

"You saw him tonight?! Where are you?" he shouted back.

"Are you going to tell me what happened when you hit him?" Your voice was near hysterics now, and Bradley knew he needed to calm himself down. He paced the length of the garage while three sets of eyes watched his every movement. 

He readjusted Jake's phone against his ear and took a deep breath. "Sweetheart. I need you to tell me where you are and if you're okay."

"I'm in my room! I'm fine!"

Bradley found it was easier to breathe now. "And where did you see Josh? Does he know where your room is?" Bradley was not above calling your parents and telling them what was going on, since they were only an hour away from Annapolis. In fact his free hand was twitching to text them, and buy a ticket to Maryland himself. 

"I saw him at dinner. He does not know where my room is. Now tell me why you risked assault charges to punch someone who doesn't fucking matter, Bradley!"

Jake took a step closer, asking, "Do you want me to talk to her?"

Bradley sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Can I put you on speaker, Baby Girl? Nat and Bob are here as well."

"Oh my God! Nat and Bob know about it, too? Am I the only one who doesn't know about this?! Should I call Mav and Penny and ask them?"

Bradley tossed his head back and gestured toward the garage door before he disappeared out into the evening air. He paced down the driveway as he said, "There's nothing to tell, Sweetheart."

You scoffed through the phone. "He said you broke his nose and his ribs, Bradley! Why would you do that? He doesn't matter at all."

"For you!" Bradley growled. "What other reason would I have to do anything except for you?"

"He could have hurt you! He could have called the police!" you wailed. "You could have been in serious trouble."

Bradley's blood was pulsing through his body, and he really wanted to punch out a window when he walked past your car. "He doesn't get to touch you without consequences. That's the bottom line."

"But what about you? You think you're not just as important to me?"

Bradley paced back up the driveway, running his fingers through his hair. "I understand what you're saying, my love. But roughing him up outside the Hard Deck was just a warning. I wasn't going to do too much damage. Even though I really fucking wanted to."

The exasperated noise you made had him almost on his knees. "And what if you got arrested?"

Bradley leaned against your car. "Then you bail me out. I added you to all my bank accounts already. You can use it for that."

"I'm not joking right now, Bradley."

"Neither am I! I'm not joking about the fact that all my money is yours. I'm not joking about the fact that I would fund my own bail money to defend you a million times over. And I'm not joking about the fact that I would have done a lot worse to Josh if left unchecked. So if you want to be mad at someone, you can continue to be mad at me, but I promise you that Jake was there the whole time. And he would have pulled me off of him if necessary. That's the kind of shit that Jake and I would do for each other." 

Now you were actively crying, and Bradley didn't know what to say. He realized there was probably nothing that would make you feel better at this moment, so he went ahead and added, "I'm not going to apologize for what I did. And I don't feel bad about it. And I fucking hate that you saw that prick tonight. This is supposed to be your special week that you worked so hard for!"

He wasn't helping anything at the moment, but he couldn't stop himself as he punched the top of your car. "Baby Girl, I love you, and it's my job to protect you. Please try to understand where I'm coming from here."

You sniffed hard before saying, "Please let me talk to Jake."

Bradley heaved a deep sigh and headed back into the garage. "Okay. Here's Jake."

Bradley watched him take back his phone and head outside. "Angel, I promise you that I was with him the whole time......."

Every cell in his body wanted to know what you and Jake were talking about, but Bradley forced himself to sit down on the weight bench instead. 

"Here, use this for a bit," Bob said, handing a twenty pound dumbbell to him. "Keep your mind occupied."

"She's probably just upset that she ran into Josh, and everyone else seems to know you got physical with him except for her," Nat told Bradley, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "She just needs to blow off some steam to Jake, so let him take care of it. In the meantime, I'm going to order some pizzas."

Bradley let Bob count his reps while he listened to Nat order one pizza with pepperoni and one with mushrooms. He suddenly just missed you so much. He should have taken a few days off and joined you in Annapolis to attend your lecture. He'd love to see the look on Josh's face if he tried to talk to you with Bradley standing behind you. 

When Jake finally came back into the garage, tucking his phone into his pocket, he just sighed and stared at Bradley for a moment.

"Well? What did you talk about?" Bradley rasped, handing the dumbbell back to Bob.

Jake just kind of shrugged. "A lot of it was personal, so I'm not going to tell you, but I explained to her very calmly that she needs to get over it. I told her that I am completely taking your side this time, and that it was important for you to assert your dominance in this particular scenario."

Bradley grunted and stood, pulling Jake into a brief hug. "She likes you. She'll listen to you."

Jake nodded. "I told her to take an hour to think about things from your point of view and calm down. Then she's allowed to call you back, but she needs to be done being upset."

Bradley gaped at Jake, and a startled laugh escaped him. "And she's going to actually do that?"

"She better, or I told her I will be very disappointed in her."

"Shit," Bradley muttered, so impressed by Jake Seresin that he wasn't sure what had become of his life. 

"Pizza's here. Let's go inside," Nat said, guiding everyone toward the house.

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

Jake was probably right. You were in shock from seeing Josh again, and you needed to think through what happened at the Hard Deck before you talked to Bradley again. You had stripped off all of your clothes, too hot and uncomfortable, before flopping down on the bed.

Thankfully Jake had taken the time to walk you through everything. He told you that Josh looked like he was going to try to approach you, but there was no way Bradley, Jake or anyone else in that bar would allow that to happen. Jake also promised you that Bradley was very calm the entire time, and the only reason he hit Josh was because he started bad mouthing you.

And especially based on what Josh said to you at the restaurant, you tended to believe Jake. The man had the nerve to call you a skank! As if you had done anything to wrong Bradley!

Oh Bradley. You had yelled at him on the phone. And he'd been the one to keep this information from you for months to try to spare your feelings. He just wanted to protect you and keep you safe. And really, maybe Josh deserved that broken nose and the broken ribs. 

Okay, now you were thinking about Bradley fighting for your honor, and a shot of adrenaline coursed through your body. You ran your fingers along your healing tattoo and you reached for your phone. 

After one ring, you heard Bradley's voice. "Sweetheart."

You let his raspy voice wash over you. He was always going to keep you safe. "I love you, Roo. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was so flustered from tonight and then I was embarrassed. And you know you could have told me you hit him, right? I'm not fragile, Bradley."

"Oh, Baby Girl. You're not. You're so strong. I just didn't want you to have to keep dealing with this shit when I was more than happy to take over for you. You do the same thing for me sometimes. Like when you make fancy dinners for Goose and Carole just when I'm on the brink of collapse, because I don't think there's a good way to keep their memory alive."

"Okay. That makes sense." Jake was right. You just needed to take some time to think about things. "It's like sharing the burden with someone who can help in a different way."

"Yes," he replied, and you could tell he was smiling. "Exactly like that. And also, fuck you Jake," Bradley said, his voice raised so that you could tell he was yelling through the house. 

You started laughing along with Bradley. "Don't get upset with Jake. He's kind of sweet, actually. He helped me process this."

"I love you, Baby Girl. But it's so late there, and you have a big day tomorrow. Are you okay?"

You took a deep breath as you sat up in the tiny bed. Your eyes dipped again to your tattoo. "Yeah, I'm okay, Roo. Thanks for always trying to protect me."

"Will you call me as soon as you can tomorrow? I want to hear everything about your presentation."

"I will."

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

Ugh, Josh..... she needs to finish up in Annapolis and get home. At least the tattoo is complete!

PART 9

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[daisystwistedgarden]

𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒛𝒂 - 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

✿✿ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ✿✿

hello! i'm joining other lovely fanfic writers with @ficsforgaza to help raise money for the folks in need in palestine! i wanted to show my support in the best way i can, and this to me is a wonderful effort to bring the community together to do some good.

to participate, make a donation to a vetted fundraiser found on @ficsforgaza's page (aka, don't send me any money!) and send me a screenshot (with your personal information removed, please!) along with what you'd like to request to my ask box. please do not "double dip" aka use the same donation for several writers-- this is a fundraiser, after all! here is what a request looks like:

hello! can i sponsor your mermay fic? i donated $5 to gaza, here is the screenshot! thank you! [insert screenshot]

my pricing will be as follows:

❀ sponsor-a-WIP: $1/100 words ❀ drabbles: $2-3/100 words (elaborated below) ❀ no money to contribute, but you want to support the cause? that's okay. sign a vetted petition from the @ficsforgaza page and send proof, and i'll add a sentence to a WIP of your choosing.

if you have any questions, feel free to take a look here on @ficsforgaza's page or reach out to me. be patient, i will work on these fics at a good pace for me. thank you so much for helping me raise money for a good cause :D

✿✿ 𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫 ✿✿

❀ the high school years

before night raven college, each student had their own lives and experiences in high school. what did those years look like? how did they affect each student at the arcane academy now?

headcanon paragraphs for each student. college!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ mermay: azul, jade, & floyd

you're a researcher and rehabilitation expert at an injured merfolk sanctuary near the coast in a small city. one day upon arriving to work, you're greeted with news of a new arrival. he's a bit... odd, it seems, but you're determined to coax him from the depths of his tank and help him recover from the injuries that landed him here in the first place.

small fics for each character. x reader. nonhuman!au (aka no school, no transformation potions). estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 449. current sponsors: two! sponsored word count: 449/1000.

❀ summer camp collab

a super secret collab with two other amazing writers! support this fic if you want to sponsor a fun project i'm keeping under wraps for now...

fics for each character (limited cast). college!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ escape room hcs

in a convoluted set of circumstances, the members of night raven college are paired up together in completely random groups for an escape room bonding exercise. how does this go? who thrives, and who flounders? which groups make it out alive?

character groups made up of main cast of 24 (22 main students + yuu and grim). six groups of four chosen at complete random by a spinner wheel. college!au. estimated length = unknown. groups completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ tattoo/piercer!au

you're looking to start your apprenticeship in tattooing and piercing at a small shop on sage island. there, you study under an employee at the shop meant to take you under his wing. who is he? does your apprenticeship land you your dream job (and relationship), or is it a disaster from the moment you lock eyes?

fic, x reader. limited characters. post-college!au, tattoo/piercer!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ yandere!fem!vil x reader

vil never expected you'd ever break up. the split was blinding, leaving her in a stupor as she stumbled through coveted on-screen roles and modeling gigs for the most prestigious publications in twisted wonderland. in her mind, you're still hers. it's only when she finds out that you've found another lover that her world-- and mind-- officially crumbles. it's time she takes matters into her own hands.

fic, x reader. trigger warnings: murder, stalking, general yandere behavior. post-nrc!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

✿✿ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ✿✿

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[korgidorgi]

Alex Danvers x Tattooist!Reader

Word Count: 6,361

Warnings: homophobic slurs, tattoo needles

Summary: Alex keeps scheduling tattoo appointments with you ;3

I didn't mean for it to be this long but my fingers kept typing. Anyways, enjoy!

Also, @spoodermankid, i thought i'd tag you since you commented on my teaser post :3

Your phone dings, indicating a text. You check the notification on your Lock Screen. It’s a DM from your instagram. You swipe it open, looking at the message. They ask about your tattoo service. You shoot them a reply, including some information about your rates and types of art you do, and what you need from them in order for you to tattoo them. In return, they send some photos and description of the tattoo location and size. The two of you come to an agreement and decide a date for the appointment.

That day came slowly around the corner. The last few clients have been rather unpleasant. You sigh, leaning your head on your hand as you scribble some sketches down on a sheet for a client. You flip your pencil over and roughly erase a couple lines that don’t look right and return to scribbling madly. The door swinging open and a small chime alerts you to another client. You glance up at the door, watching as a tall woman walks in. Her eyes scan the room before landing on you. Her auburn hair is a touch messy and she nervously moves it out of the way. You raise your head up, your full attention on her. You look her up and down, taking in her dark outfit and short, auburn hair. Her tank top reveals her muscles as she tucks her jacket under her arm.

“Hey,” you greet, “welcome to the shop.”

“Hi, I’m here for an appointment for 3:30?” She asks.

You look down at your appointment notes. “Alex, right?”

The woman nods, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Okay, have you done this before?” You ask her.

“No,” she shakes her head. “First time.”

“Alright, “well, you’re in good hands today,” you offer her a smile. “Can I see some ID?”

Alex reaches for her wallet, pulling out her ID and handing it over to you. You accept it, running it through a scanner and printing a sheet for her to sign. You hand both back over to her for her to fill out.

“Do you have any allergies I should be aware of?” You ask. “Shellfish..?”

“Uh, no.” She answers.

“Okay, cool,” you respond.

You go over the size and location with her again, showing her some printouts of her design. She selects the one she likes best and you proceed to make the transfer stencil. You watch as her nervousness begins to slowly melt away as you talk to her.

“If you wouldn’t mind following me to my studio,” you get up and lead her down a hall of studios to the last one on the left.

“You can set your stuff down here.” You gesture to a corner near the door. “Just take a seat on the chair when you’re ready.”

Meanwhile you slide on your gloves and begin to set up your tattoo machine and open the ink caps you’ll be using. Alex takes a seat on the chair, settling into her spot.

“Can I see the area?” You ask. “I need to clean it and then I’m gonna apply the stencil.”

She turns her shoulder to you for you to apply the stencil. You wipe down the area and go to apply the blue stencil.

“Right here?” You hover over the area. “Or do you need it slightly somewhere else?”

“No, there’s fine,” she confirms.

You place the paper and smooth it over a few seconds before removing it, leaving a blue stencil behind on her skin.

“Go check the mirror and see if you like it there,” you smile at her and point to the mirror.

You watch her approach the mirror and look at the placement near her collarbone.

“I like that,” she confirms, her hands tracing the area around the stencil.

She turns back to you, pausing until you gesture for her to take a seat again.

You get ready and begin tattooing her. As soon as the needle first touches her skin, she winces slightly at the sensation. You pull away, looking up at her. She nods her head, taking a deep breath and letting it out. She gives you a nervous smile as you go ahead once more. This time, she’s prepared for it.

“So, uh,” she begins, “do you enjoy tattooing?”

“Yeah, there’s just something about watching peoples reactions to their imaginations coming true,” you answer. “It also keeps me in a creative mindset, a release I guess.”

She hums in response. “You ever get bad clients?”

“Yep,” you quip, nodding your head. “My past week has been full of them.”

“Jees,” she sighs.

“I’m gonna be honest, I was hoping you were a woman,” you continue. “I can’t handle another man right now.”

“I feel you,” she agrees.

As you continue with the small tattoo, the two of you make pleasant conversation. She tells you about her job as an FBI agent until you finish. You set your machine down and begin wiping down the area.

“Alright, that’s all done,” you announce, throwing out the ink cap. “I’m gonna apply some ointment and a second skin.”

She nods along to your procedure.

“Don’t leave it on for more than two days, after which you can begin to apply some ointment the next day.” You instruct. “Make sure to wash it twice a day, apply the ointment, and it should be healed within three weeks.”

You give her a satisfied smile as she goes to inspect it.

“Thank you!”

“Of course, any time, Alex,” you grin at her. “I also have some snacks if you wanna take one.”

You turn to pull out a drawer full of various candies. You watch her eyes widen at your stash before she roots through it to pick out a candy. Once she has her candy and has grabbed up her stuff, you guide her to the lobby and bid her farewell.

You slide down into the seat, resting your head in your hand, propped on the desk. You let out a small, satisfied sigh.

“Oh, I know that look,” you hear your coworker, Becca, state from across the lobby. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she’s leaning against the frame of the hallway.

“What look?” You sit up, crossing your arms in return.

“You saw a hot woman,” she smirks, “and now you’re fawning.”

Your hand flies over your heart. “Am not!”

“Mhmm…” she slowly nods, an eyebrow raised at you. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”

•••

A few weeks go by before you get an instagram DM by none other than Alex Danvers. You open the message, reading it and responding. She wants another tattoo, so she sends you her ideas and some pictures of what she wants. She asks for your input and what you would do if you were getting it. You advise her that its her tattoo and she determines what she wants on her body. Once again, you two agree on a date and time for the appointment.

“Can you turn this gay shit off?” He huffs at you.

“What vibe do you want, my guy?” You get up and head to your iPod, rolling your eyes.

“Something that’s not so faggy,” he retorts.

“Sorry, mate,” you interrupt, “we’re not using that kind of language in my studio.”

“What?” He snorts. “Gay? Shit? Fag?”

“Yeah, not in my studio,” you shake your head at him.

He just huffs in response, going quiet in his seat. You turn back to your iPod, finding a playlist you’ve put together just for people with his attitude. These people don’t listen to the lyrics, so you play it. You then slide your gloves on, sitting in your stool to tattoo him.

“Can you give me your arm?” You ask.

“You’re not touching me,” he quips.

“I can’t tattoo you if you won’t let me,” you respond.

“Fine,” he huffs yet again.

You begin tattooing him, beginning on the top of his forearm. He wanted a dragon slithering around. The banter from him continues, wasting your tattooing time. He keeps flinching away, telling you to stop, and interrupting your art by going to grab his water bottle with the arm your tattooing. With every word he speaks, he shortens your fuse bit by bit. You’re nearly done with the lineart, flipping his arm to the underside and tattooing the dragons tail. The moment you touch the underside of his arm, he pulls back violently.

“Ow!” He screams. “Bitch!”

“Sir, I’m telling you one last time,” you glare at him, “respect me and my space, or I’m not tattooing you.”

“You can’t deny my service,” he continues yelling, “I’m fucking paying you!”

“Okay, y’know what—” you put your machine down and taking off your gloves— “you can leave now.”

“You can’t kick me out!” He screeches.

“I’m your artist, this is my space, and you’re being an asshole.” You argue.

“You’re the asshole!” He continues. “You’re playing faggy music in a faggy shop in a faggy studio!”

“Get the fuck out.” You point towards the door of your studio.

“NO!”

You get up, leaving the studio yourself. He grabs his stuff and angrily follows you.

“Where do you think you’re going???” He storms out behind you.

“Away from you,” you answer. “Our session is done!”

“No it’s not,” he bellows, “get back here, bitch!”

You continue walking away from him, not paying him any mind.

“This is why I don’t let women tattoo me!” He screeches, throwing his hands up.

“Hey, if you want to take a while and come back later when you’re not a hater, I can finish your tattoo,” you offer. “But you’ve wasted time and I have a client coming in any minute now so you can take your attitude and get the fuck out.”

“Fuck you, bitch!” He storms towards you. “Fuck you and your fucking stupid ass faggy shop and your stupid fucking bitch coworkers and—“

“Since you want to be such a hater,” you whip back around to him, “I’m not a big dick manly alpha man, and you just got tattooed by a lesbian!”

He stands in his place, his jaw dropped in offense. He finds his composure and tries to speak again, however, you cut him off.

“So why don’t you walk yourself out of this faggy store.”

Between you and your coworker staring at him, he finally lets up, grumbling as he angrily shoves past your next client, kicks the door open, and leaves. You sigh, deflating and taking a seat in the desk chair. You look back up at the person he shoved past.

“Alex!” You greet, a tired smile taking over your features at her presence.

“Hey,” she returns, “sorry about all… that.”

You wave her off, “It happens more than you think. I’m used to it at this point.”

She hums, shaking her head. “Still, doesn’t mean it should happen at all.

“How long were you there?” You ask.

“Long enough,” she breathes. “Sorry, I also came a bit early.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shake your head at her, “its fine.”

You take Alex through the whole check in process, taking her ID and giving her papers to sign. Once done, you lead her back and get setup in your studio. You place the stencil and she confirms its placement and you get started with tattooing her.

“Do people like him happen often?” She asks.

“Not super often,” you shrug, “but enough to make you contemplate quitting.”

“You think about quitting?” She asks, surprise evident in her tone. “Not seriously,” you admit, “but sometimes people, like him, piss you off so much and make you feel like shit.”

“That’s not fair to you,” she states, her eyebrows narrowing.

“It is what it is,” you sigh.

The room is silent, other than the hum of the machine as you work on her body art.

“By the way,” she smirks, “I like being tattooed by a lesbian.”

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head and glancing up at her.

“I’m glad.”

You continue with the tattoo, the two of you finding comfortable conversation in the meantime. Once you finish, you apply the ointment and second skin and go over the aftercare instructions with her. You both walk into the lobby together.

“Thank’s for being a good client,” you acknowledge her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She nudges your arm with hers. “You’re the best tattoo artist.”

You chuckle at her compliment. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“C’mon, give yourself some credit,” she encourages.

“I’m your only tattoo artist,” you tilt your head towards her, driving your point further.

“But,” she tuts at you, “you’re the best one.”

You shake your head, taking a seat on the desk.

“Hey, I’ve still got some time to kill,” Alex states, “if you don’t have anything going on, would you mind if I stuck around and chatted a bit?”

“Sure,” you accept, smiling at her.

You hop off the deck, going around to open a cabinet full of your personal snacks.

“Want any?” You offer to her.

She points to one and you grab it for her. You return to her, handing the snack over.

“C’mon, we can chat back in my studio,” you usher her back to your studio.

The two of you chat for a while before Alex has to go. She bids you farewell before disappearing out the door and down the street.

•••

Business is slow for the next month and a half, allowing you to relax a bit more and de-stress from ridiculous customers. Alex sends you pictures of her tattoo in the healing process, which you applaud her for taking good care of. You still spend a lot of time in the studio, taking walk-ins here and there. You sit at the lobby desk more than anyone else in the studio because of your slow business.

The door swings open, the chime alerting the store to someones presence. You look up, recognizing the auburn haired woman.

“Back again so soon?” You quip to Alex, resting your chin on your hands.

You smirk at her from your side of the desk and watch as another woman enters the shop.

“Yep, and I brought my sister this time,” she beams at you.

She hands you her and her sisters ID to you.

“We’re hoping to get matching tattoos!” The blonde announces, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Oh,” you hum, turning to the scanner, “you better not be getting each others names on you.”

“Oh god—“

“It’s a curse,” you playfully sigh at her. “I swear it. Any tattoo artist will too.”

Briefly, you turn to the computer and plunk in some commands for the forms needed. You then perch on the desk, waiting for the printer to work its magic. You look back at the two.

“Well, we’re not getting each others names,” Alex states, failing to hide a chuckle from you.

“Well, what were you two thinking?” You ask, grabbing a few freshly printed papers for them to sign. You extend the warm papers and their IDs back to them.

“We were thinking small,” Alex starts, glancing at her sister.

The blonde interrupts her, “I’d get the sun and Alex would get the earth!”

“We were thinking on our wrists,” Alex turns her hand over, motioning to the spot on the underside of her wrist.

“Alright,” you nod, “do you have designs picked out yet?”

“Yep!” The sister chirps.

“Alright, if you two could sign these for me,” you bring your knees up on top of the desk as you spin around.

You hand them the forms required for the tattoos. Alex pulls out her phone, searching it for something.

“I’ll send these to you,” she says, glancing up at you briefly.

Seconds later, your phone buzzes, letting you know you got her message. You open the message, resting on your hand on the desk and leaning back on it. The designs are very simple, just lineart. They’re cute. Like Alex, you think to yourself.

“They’re cute.” You smile, looking over the simple designs.

“Thanks, Kara picked them,” Alex replies.

You let the two of them finish up while you proceed to download the images and print them on the stencil paper.

“Alex talked me into it,” Kara adds.

You let out a small, humorous snort, grabbing the stencils from the printer.

“Of course she did,” you chuckle.

You fully swing around and drop off the desk next to Alex, stencils in hand.

“C’mon to the back,” you wave them with you, leading them to your small studio room.

The two of them follow you and watch you put on some gloves and begin to organize your tools. You sway your body to the soft beat of the song playing quietly through some speakers in the room.

“Who’s going first?” You ask, opening a box of inks and needles.

“Me!” Kara exclaims. “I’m gonna get squeamish if I don’t.” She laughs nervously.

“First time, right?” You inquire, spinning on your stool, stencil in hand.

“Yeah,” she admits.

“Alright. Well, this will not be bad.” You reassure her. “Have you been scratched by a cat before?”

“Uh, no.” She shyly admits.

“Well, if you’ve ever been scratched by something like brambles or something, it would feel like that.”

You grab your machine and the needle.

“Are you nervous about needles?” You ask.

“Only if they’re stabbing me.”

“Okay, well, the needle I’m using is a very fine needle. It’s going to stab your skin, but it’s nothing like being stabbed with a shot or a knife.” You hold the small needle up for her to see. "It’s just injecting the ink into your cells.”

“Okay..” she sits on the table.

“Which wrist?” You ask, pulling a rolling tray with you.

You open the small ink cup, placing it next to your machine. Kara lifts her right arm, turning it over for you to see. A green stone bracelet adorns her wrist.

“Do you wanna take the bracelet off for this?” You ask.

“No, I can just slide it out of the way.” She responds nervously.

“What kinda stones?” You ask. “Emerald? Some sort of sapphire?”

“Yeah, emerald,” she answers, playing with it.

You let her pull it out of the way as you wash the area and place the stencil in its spot. You take the paper away, leaving the blue ink on her skin. She confirms the location. You grab your tattoo gun and turn on the machine. The soft buzz fills the room as you gently lower the nose of it to her skin. She flinches at the contact but eventually eases at the sensation. You begin the tattoo, the needle gliding over her skin leaving the black ink exactly where you need it. You work slow enough to get the lines perfect, and quick enough as to not subject her to the sensation more than she needs to. Before long, you’re done. You wipe the leftover ink away from her skin and gently wash the fresh wound. Once you apply some ointment and a second skin, you scoot back.

“What do you think?” You tilt your head at her.

“I love it!” She confirms.

She promptly shows it to Alex, letting her look over your simple handiwork. She hums in content, a smile gracing her features.

“Alright,” you clap your hands, “aftercare.” Kara looks up at you.

“Since your sister has gotten some before, she can help you,” You say. “Don’t leave the second skin on for more than two days. It’s best to take it off around 24 hours after your tattoo. For the next 5-ish days, wash it gently with antibacterial soap and water twice a day. You can also use a soft ointment on it on day 2. Once it’s done flaking, you can add moisturizer to keep it hydrated and healthy. It should be fully healed within two to four weeks. I’ll send you both home with the stuff.”

“Okay, thank you!” Kara exclaims.

You stand, nodding your head at her. You turn to toss your gloves and grab new ones to reset your station. Upon finding your box of inks empty, you climb the desk to reach a high cabinet.

“Do you need any help?” Alex offers, stepping towards you.

“It’s fine,” you assure her, focusing on your task. “Go sit your pretty self down.”

You wince at what just came out of your mouth, opting to pretend it didn’t just happen. Kara shoots her sister a knowing glance behind your back.

You hear her move to sit in the chair and you let out a small breath you’d been unknowingly holding.

After grabbing a new box of ink caps, you return to the floor and set up your station.

Alex offers you her left wrist, bare of any bracelets. You clean the area and prep it for the tattoo. Removing the stencil paper from her skin, you discard it and turn your machine on.

Tracing the stencil, the ink from your machine stains her skin. The music on in the background makes the silence comfortable as you and your clients vibe. Soon enough you’ve finished her tattoo and are cleaning it up and applying the second skin.

“All done,” you announce, stepping back from your work.

You begin to put your stuff away and discard the needles and ink caps again. Meanwhile, Alex shows her earth to Kara. You lead them to the front desk and scoot yourself over the top of it once again.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Alex offers the money for the tattoos over the desk.

“Anytime, Alex,” you wink at her as you accept the cash from her.

You watch a soft pink dust her cheeks. You focus back on counting the money and counting the change to return to her.

“Thanks for coming in, Kara,” you bid farewell to her. “See you next time, Alex.”

“Bye, Y/N!” Kara waves.

“See you,” Alex follows.

•••

It’s been a couple months since you tattooed the sisters. Alex had sent you pictures of the fully healed tattoos of the two of their wrists next to each other. You’d responded, noting how clear and healthy the tattoos both look. You’re glad they both enjoy them.

Your appointments were completely booked for a good chunk of the month. While you wracked in quite a bit of money, creating multiple works to the same high standards was beginning to take a toll on you. The appointments finally let up a bit, allowing some breathing room. One guy was quite persistent even after being denied a tattoo by you. He began blowing up your phone until you blocked him. He even went as far as making multiple instagram accounts to message you. You finally got him to shut up last week.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You set your drink down and drag it out, dreading the message. Upon looking at the message display on your screen, your heart gives a little flutter. Alex’s instagram user displays on the alert. You immediately open it, reading her text.

Hey, it’s been a while. How have you been? Anyways, I’ve decided on another tattoo if you’d want to do it. Might need your help with the final look.

She’s attached a few images to the message. One of her own sketch and a few reference images full of flowers and snakes.

You begin typing but immediately stop and rid the keyboard when you see her typing animation display.

I was thinking hip and thigh area. Sorry my artist skills aren’t the best. Take ur time with your sketch! No rush!

You begin typing again, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Of course! I’d be happy to! I’ll come up with a few slightly different designs. I’ll send them when I finish and u can choose which one :)

Awesome! Thank you so much! :)

You smile at your phone, thinking for a moment before typing again.

*Also, I’d been a bit swamped with commissions but they seem to have let up a bit. There’s also this asshole who won’t leave me alone because I refused to do his tattoo—*

You pause your typing, thinking about what you’re about to send. You begin to delete some of it before changing your mind.

As to how I’ve been, I’d been swamped with commissions but it’s seemed to slow now. There’s also this guy who didn’t like being told No about a tattoo How about urself? How have u been?

The two of you text back and forth a bit about your lives since last seeing each other. She tells you about her FBI job and the coworkers getting on her nerves, and about how her sister loves to flaunt their tattoos to their friends. You tell her about the annoying guy who won’t leave you alone and tell her there have been a few changes to the shop.

•••

Three days pass and you’ve completed four versions of what Alex was asking for. You send her the final photos of them and she decides on them. The two of you also decide on a price and an appointment date and time within the week.

You sit on the front desk casually watching the new shop fish swimming around their tank. The small, striped tiger barbs chase each other around the tank, weaving around the driftwood and plants. The other tetras remain calm, schooling together and minding their business. A small school of cory catfish sift through the sand and plant stratum substrate.

The door opening steals your attention. You look over and see Alex entering the studio. You offer her a smile, which she returns.

“Hey, good to see you back,” you greet.

“It feels good to be back,” she returns.

She swiftly hands you her ID and you promptly scan it and print her paperwork for her to sign and hand both back over to her. She pockets her ID and expertly fills the form out, meanwhile you print the stencil. She hands her form back over to you. You put the form away and hop off the desk, beginning to lead her back.

“The fish tank is new,” she observes.

“May or may not have been my idea,” you cheekily shrug, grinning at the 50 gallon setup.

“Looks amazing,” she awes at the setup.

“Thank you,” you throw a smile over your shoulder at her. “I’ve been planning it for a while now, just needed the money.”

You get her settled in your studio and you look through your various playlists to set as background music. You select one of your indie playlists, allowing the music to softly play a song by beabadoobee. You begin to prep for her tattoo, sliding gloves on and opening packages of needles and inks.

“You got your own studio fish too?” She inquires, moving over to the 5 gallon tank that houses a new betta and shrimp duo.

“Yeah, I had some leftover cash from the big tank,” you state. “Decided I needed a friend in here.”

She coos at the little flamboyant fish as he swims near the surface, looking for food. You set the chair into a recline for Alex to lay down for her tattoo.

“Gotta lay down for this one, Flower Girl,” you pat the chair- now table- for her.

She bites back a grin, opting to chew on her bottom lip at your nickname for her.

“Also, lose the pants,” you instruct, your face immediately heating up.

“I- uh, I need to be able to access the, uh, area,” you stutter out.

She smirks at you, obliging to your instructions. You look away, allowing her some privacy.

“There’s uh,” you stutter, “there’s a blanket over there if you want.”

You point over at the burrito print throw blanket in a basket full of additional various blankets. You can hear her shuffle and you occupy yourself in throwing together your tattoo tray. You get the stencil ready.

“Look in this mirror and tell me where you want it,” you instruct her.

What ensues is a game of hot and cold as you find the perfect placement for the tattoo. Once the stencil is transferred to her skin, you let her get comfortable on the table while you prepare your tattoo machine. You pull your stool over beside her, dragging your tray with you. The familiar hum of the machine soon rings out in the room as you begin to trace the stencil on her hip and thigh.

A few minutes into the tattoo, Alex speaks. “So, what got you into bringing fish into the studio?”

“I just wanted to bring some life into the studio,” you respond, eyes not leaving the tattoo site. “Something non-disruptive.”

She hums in response before you continue.

“I’ve been in the fish keeping hobby since high school,” you explain. “And Becca doesn’t like snakes.”

“You almost brought in a snake?” She asks, surprise evident in her tone.

“The thought crossed my mind,” you chuckle, wiping extra ink off her skin.

“Do you have a snake at home?”

“Yeah, actually. She was the model for my snake tattoo actually,” you answer her, briefly showing off your forearm sleeve. “Brought her into the studio I went to for it.”

“You're cute,” she hums, a small smile gracing her features before she panics. "I- I mean, that's-- cute."

You chuckle out a “thanks,” to her.

“Anything else in your home?” She asks, hoping to distract you from her slip up.

“Yep! I got two dogs, a leopard gecko, and seven fish tanks,” you proudly state.

“Wow,” she breathes, “that’s a lot.”

You hum in response, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I wanted to bring a slice of home into the studio,” you admit.

“Do you have any clownfish?” She inquires. “Like Nemo?”

You let out a small laugh. “Actually yeah. Except she doesn’t have his stripes and her name is Coat.”

“You named your fish ‘Coat’?” She chuckles in amusement.

“Yeah,” you defend your fish, “she looks like she’s wearing a white coat and her face is sticking out the hood.”

Alex lets out a laugh at your defense. “What’s your snakes’ name,” she continues, “Wood Glue?”

“Close,” you laugh, having to lift the machine off her skin.

She turns her head to you, mouth agape in disbelief.

“Her name is just Glue,” you laugh, going back to the tattoo.

She raises her eyebrows in amusement and disbelief. She shakes her head, laughing at your choice of names for your pets.

“My leopard gecko is Bones,” you continue. “I also have some cory-cats at home: Panda, Duck, Leopard, Rat, and Toad.”

“You’re insane,” she shakes her head, a grin taking over her features. “How many fish do you have in all those tanks?”

“Pffttt! Too many,” you humorously state.

She raises an eyebrow at you incredulously, egging you on.

“Honestly, I don’t know, but it’s more than like, 40,” you state. “The guppies keep fucking.”

“Jesus—“

You hum, letting a chuckle escape your lips.

“What about you?” You inquire. “You got any pets?”

“Not yet,” she admits. “My job is too demanding for me to have the time right now.”

“If you could choose a pet right now, what would you choose to adopt?”

She hums in thought, tilting her head as she thinks. “I’d probably adopt a puppy,” she admits. “Not a huge breed, but not an ankle biter.”

You laugh at her answer, continuing with the lineart of the tattoo.

“What, do you have a problem with—“

“No, I just—“ you laugh, shaking your head, “pffttt, ankle biter.”

She laughs with you as you continue inking her skin.

The first half of the tattoo goes by relatively smoothly. You’re working on the shading of the upper half when Alex asks you to pause.

“You doing okay?” You ask, placing your machine on the tray.

“Yeah, I just need to take a short break,” she admits. “I need to stretch.”

You nod, backing your stool up and letting her stand. You take your gloves off, discarding them as you stand as well. You reach your hands above your head, interlocking your fingers to stretch out your body. You hear a couple places in your fingers and shoulders crack and pop.

“I’m gonna pop out to the Snack Shack in the lobby, do you want a yummy?” You offer.

“Sure,” she accepts your offer, wrapping the large burrito around herself.

You open your studio door and hop out to the snack station. Alex follows, wrapped up cozy behind you.

You open the cabinets that house the snacks and find your personal stash.

“Anything specific you want?” You pull out a couple bags of snacks to show Alex your options.

“I’ll take the cookies right there,” she points out the bag of chocolate chip mini cookies.

You grab them and toss them to her, nearly catching her off guard. You grab your own snack and turn around to usher her back to your studio.

The two of you take a seat, you on your counter next to your fish, and her on the tattoo table. The two of you snack in silence. You’re grooving to the beat of Fever Dream by mxmtoon, humming softly along.

Before long, the two of you finish your snack break.

“Let me know when you’re ready to go again, you state, tossing your wrapper in the trash bin in your studio.

Alex follows your role and tosses hers across the room, scoring it in the bin.

“Nice,” you congratulate her.

Alex begins to settle back on the table, exposing the tattoo site. You grab a new set of gloves and get ready again, settling down in your stool.

“I’m ready,” Alex states, shifting on the table one last time.

You get ready to tattoo, adjusting your own position to best tattoo the area.

“Has that guy texted you anymore since?” She inquires, breaking the silence between you two.

“Yep,” you huff. “He keeps making new accounts to bother me.”

“You know, you can put in a police report about it,” she suggests.

“I did,” you sigh. “They said since he’s not threatening me and he hasn’t shown back up, they can’t do anything about it.”

“God, that’s such bullshit,” Alex snorts. “That’s unfair to you!”

“It is what it is..” you sigh defeatedly.

“That’s not how it should be though,” she adds. “If he keeps bothering you, I’ll open a case against him for you.”

A small smile takes over your features and you glance at the agent. “Gosh, Alex—“

“Don’t tell me not to,” she insists, “I won’t listen to it.”

You let out a chuckle, gently shaking your head. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you again as you continue working on her tattoo. Various sapphic artists continue to play through your speaker softly.

“You know,” you begin, “you don’t have to keep paying me hundreds of dollars to be able to talk to me.”

You glance up at her and she meets your gaze. Confusion crosses her features as you continue.

“Just ask me out already.”

You continue focusing on her tattoo, waiting for her response. She opens her mouth to speak, not being able to find the words to respond to you.

“I- well,” she begins to stutter out words. “I mean, I’m free next Thursday if you are?”

You smile, lifting the needle off her skin and looking at her.

“Three o’clock?” You ask.

“I’ll pick you up,” she offers.

“Deal.”

The two of you smile to yourselves, stealing glances from each other as you continue tattooing.

Alex finds mother topic for the two of you to converse about while you finish up the last hour of tattooing. Once done, you clean the area and add the second skin.

“What do you think?” You ask, discarding your gloves as she inspects it in the mirror.

She runs her hand around the second skin, inspecting and admiring your work.

“I love it,” she states, turning to you.

You give her a grin, happy with your work and her content with the final product.

“I’m glad,” you smile at her. “Okay, go get dressed and meet me at the front desk.”

You turn and hop out of the room, gently closing the door behind you. You happily skip over to the desk, jumping up and sliding over the top into your spot behind it. A few moments later, Alex exits your studio and approaches you. She digs for her wallet, taking out the cash for your work and handing it over. You accept it and quickly hand back over her change.

“Thursday,” she nods at you, “three o’clock, I’ll pick you up.”

You nod, biting your lip. “Here. I’ll be here.”

“It’s a date then,” she agrees.

•••

Come Thursday, you’d just finished up your last client of the day about an hour before Alex was supposed to arrive. You’d planned a bit ahead this morning, opting to bring a change of clothes to work for you to change into for your date.

Glancing at the fish tanks, you notice how grubby they look. “To kill some time,” you sigh to yourself.

By the time you finish, you’ve got 15 minutes to get cleaned up and ready for Alex. Before long, you hear the engine of a motorcycle revving approaching the store. You throw on a jacket, completing your look and stepping outside to wait for Alex. You look down the streets and watch the person on the motorcycle pull up in front of you. Placing a foot down to hold the bike, they take off their helmet.

“Hop on,” Alex greets.

She pulls an extra helmet up into view, extending it towards you. You grin, approaching her on her bike and accepting the extended helmet. You swing your leg over the seat, settling in behind her and securing your helmet. She urges you to hold onto her. You wrap your arms around her torso, feeling the warmth radiating from her. You hold onto her firmly yet gentle as she revs the engine, gently taking off onto the road.

[ikeromantic]

IkeVamp Boys React to Tattooed MC pt 4

Vlad, Faust, and Charles

Vlad

You shiver as Vlad's cool fingertips slide up your spine. He places a kiss just at the top, where you know his lips touch the cluster of sakura blossoms. He presses a kiss to each falling petal, suspended in ink along the line of your back.

"I like these," he says quietly. "The promise of beauty and spring, eternal."

"And the passing of time. Beauty is ephemeral." You arch into his touch.

"And yet you've made it permanent, caught in this moment forever." His fangs scrape lightly on your skin as he kisses the last one, near your hip.

You understand the meaning in his words, the promise that he won't let you go, not again. Not now that he's found you after centuries of waiting and searching.

Faust

You wake to find Faust staring at you, his eyes narrowed. The expression makes you self conscious. "Ehm. Good morning?"

"Is it?" He frowns and leans closer. That's when you realize the sheets have slid down and he can see the tattoo on your hip, just under the hem of your night-shirt. He's seen it before, you are fairly sure.

"Is there a problem," you counter. Then you sit up, tugging your shirt down to cover the design.

Faust reaches over to pull it aside again, studying you like one of his experiments. "This. There is something about it."

Ah. You smile in understanding. "It's a cover-up. I got a stupid tattoo when I was - well, it doesn't matter. Just never get a name tattoo. Trust me." You try to tug your night-shirt down again.

"A name?" His bright green eyes pin you in place.

"The design covers it up. I bet you can't even tell what was there, right?"

Faust scowls. "Who's name is it?"

"Look, it's an ex, ok? I thought, I don't know . . . it was stupid and I regretted it right after. I got the cover-up as soon as we broke up." You shrug. "It's probably not what I would have gotten, but at least I don't have to see his name on me the rest of my life. So, can you not make a big deal about it?"

"So . . . would you remove it if you could?" His gaze turns speculative, thoughtful.

"I guess? But it doesn't matter. Even in my time, tattoo removal isn't exactly 100%." You finally pull your shirt from his grip.

Faust stands, determination in his posture. "Eat and then meet me in the lab. We have much work today."

"I thought you were taking a break today!" You frown at him now. This was supposed to be your day to spend with him. Maybe going shopping, getting some food . . .

"It was. It is. But I have a new project and you must be present. My little guinea pig." He smiles at you. "Today, we will discover how to remove ink from human skin.

Charles

You notice Charles is giving you puppy dog eyes. This isn't unusual, exactly, but you aren't sure what he wants from you. After all, you're already on a date. You decide not to ask. He will definitely tell you.

A moment later, you're rewarded for your patience. He reaches for your collar, tugging it down. "Can I see?" Charles doesn't wait for permission. He pulls your shirt away from your collarbone, and you realize what he's trying to look at.

The raven in flight that graces your collarbone, inked there when you left home to start a new life on your own. A reminder that you could always start a new, as you had again when you followed Le Comte through the museum door.

"That's my tattoo." You aren't sure what else to say, especially with him leaning close enough to kiss.

"It's pretty." He runs a finger along the delicate feathers. "Like it's about to fly away, but it can't. It reminds me of you."

"I'm glad you like it." You feel heat rising to your cheeks, not so much from the touch - Charles is always handsy - but from the way he speaks. That rare moment of vulnerability when you can see past his cheery mask.

"I hope you'll never fly away from me," he lays his head on your bared skin.

"I told you I would stay." You let your cheek rest on his head, his hair tickling your nose. "Besides, that's not what the raven means. It's . . . it's rebirth. Starting anew. Remembering that no matter what happens, there's another chance, if you're willing to take it."

You can feel his smile, and the warm, damp dew of a teardrop. "That sounds like a nice thing to believe."

[short-black-diamond]

Hi, I read Toman and Muslim Reader a while ago and I like it So since Eid al-Adha is near, can you write a second part with the addition of Tenjiku and Yuzuha?

And I wonder what their reaction will be when they discover that a reader cannot marry a person who is not a Muslim unless he converts to Islam and performs all the religious duties as it should.(It was funny when reading Mitsuya and Draken's reaction when they found out that Muslims don't get tattoos 😂😂)

Of course love! Also please tell me how you want to be called. Someone claimed the 🍰nom as an anonymous, you can have a name too!

I think Imma convert to Islam to be honest 'cuz it's such a cool and peaceful and beautiful religion and I honestly hate anyone who thinks of them as terrorists or some other bad thing.

Is what you said 'Eid al-Adha' this festival where you kill/sacrifice a goat or sheep or something? My friend told me that she would do it this wednesday or thursday, as in the festival being two days long or something...? Also she said that she'd fast on the 27th...oh well

Anyways, I actually laughed my ass off when I thought about their shocked faces and then also thinking of each other like 'damn, Draken/Mitsuya has one too!' and then the first one calling the other and berating each other about getting their tattoos removed lol

Also, I'm going to write stuff which is sadly not happening canonly, and I'm only at chapter 139, so please bear with me. Also you didn't tell me which ones, so I just did these below plus your precious Yuzuha.

Also sorry for only posting it now...

Characters: Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho, Ran Haitani, Yuzuha Shiba

I did not proofread.

---

Tokyo revengers with a muslim friend :D , part two

part one , tr with a muslim wife

Izana Kurokawa

Nah bruh, that's not it.

he saw you for the first time when he craved some food in the convenience store

didn't really think much of you at first, but he didn't really see you before

you also didn't really look like a japanese woman, more like a foreigner

so, he just watched you for a bit

you were actually having a pretty good life, and he was a little jealous

but then, one day, you were quickly making your way to a bigger shop, while talking to somebody in a stressed manner, you were sweating and looking around fevereshly

over the time he watched you, he grew somwehat protective of you

and when he saw you like this? He didn't like it

he thought that somebody was after you, and what would be the best way to introduce himself to you?

After all, many people here knew him and also not to mess with him

"my name is Izana Kurokawa, and I noticed that you didn't look very well. Are you alright?"

and when you noticed him, like really staring into his eyes, he lost it

you were the most beautiful woman he's ever met actually, and he felt his breath hitch

"Huh? Oh no, it's alright love, just preparing for a festival is all!"

Festival? But there were no Japanese festivals announced yet-

"Oh, let me introcuce myself first. My name is ____ ______ and I'm from ______. I'm a muslim, as in my religion is Islam, and in a week, a day called Eid-Adha will come and there we will sacrifice a sheep/goat and share some meat with our aquaintances and eat it along with friends and families."

This was too much input, but he managed to understand

"Do you guys have a sheep yet?"

"Sadly no, we also can't buy slughtered meat from the meathouse because it's not halal."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means that the sheep is not slaughtered by a muslim."

"...and what if I bring you an alive sheep? would that be okay?"

"What? Oh, no. No no, please, you don't have to stress yourself, Kurokawa, it's alright!"

Nah, it was not. Your parents were in dire need of a sheep actually

And safe to say, you were secretely happy that the friend you made the day prior did not only help you with your groceries, he also brought you a sheep the next day

...but where did he get that animal from?

after your confrontation, Izana had no choice but to tell you the truth.

He told you about everything that happened and expected you to give him a scared expression and then run away

but you gave him a sad look.

"I can somewhat relate to what you're going through right now. But doing all this because you're holding a grudge against his little brother is not going to lift your spirit, you know?"

You poured him a cup of tea and he thanked you silently.

Izana was surprised that you still talked to him. He really expected you to run away

"would Shinichiro be okay with you trying to hurt his brother? You're Emma's brother, after all. Have you gotten in contact with her yet? I'm sure she'd love to see her sibling again."

Emma...?

Tears spilled from his eyes. His shoulders shook.

"Izana...it's okay. let it all out. God knows what you're going through. He is testing you."

"why..? Why is god doing that to me...?", the leader croaked, and you could see a spark in his eyes.

"Because he loves you. God loves every single living form in this planet. He created us, after all. And he is also the most forgiving of us all.

Talk to Mikey, talk to Emma. Talk to everyone you don't like and see what happens. Hope for the best, pray for the best thing to happen. Imagine how happy Shinichiro would be if he saw his two brothers getting along! Imagine how happy Emma would be to see you again!"

He thought about it, but he was not so sure.

But he tried.

He asked you to accompany him, and you said yes with a smile. you were glad to aid as emotional support.

What you didn't tell him though, was that you already knew Mikey and Toman.

Izana didn't.

And so, Izana met with Mikey, who firstly greeted you, and then also greeted Izana, but with a little less respect.

"Listen, Manjiro Sano, I'm sorry. Surely, you must've read my letters by now,", he started as he noticed a carton boy with opened letters that looked an awful lot like the ones he and Shin sent each other.

"I...was jealous of you. That you were his...real brother. I wanted to be his brother too, but well..."

Mikey understood. "then let's be brothers, Izana."

Izana looked at him with more widened eyes, then he looked at you. You smiled at him.

From that day on, Tenjiku and Toman were good with each other, thanks to a little help of yours.

Izana also felt closer to you. He felt at ease with you. He wanted to know more about you.

Izana wasn't really a religious person, so it gave him a little whiplash when you told him that you could only marry a muslim or a converted muslim.

He never knew that he'd want to try to become or do something for someone

but if it was you, then he'd for sure try.

and it was actually the best experience he had

praying fives times a day was no problem, as you and him frequented a mosque that wasn't too far away from you

he was a little sad by the fact that he couldn't pray with you, but the brothers on the other side welcomed him with open arms

Izana would've actually liked to stay there longer and listen to the men, but he remembered that he had to meet up with you in two minutes

like an excited puppy did he tell you about everything he knew, and only after a second did he realize that you knew most of it already

still, you gave him a smile and encouraged him to learn more

Kakucho

That guy is just as stupid as the others.

He also just noticed you recently, but he found you to be a pretty foreigner

He actually wanted to hang out with you, and so he also introduced himself

"Name's Kakucho, may I know your's, pretty lady?", he was actually quite the charmer (my headcannon)

you smiled, his heart pounded, and you said your name as well

still, you asked him about his scar, which was...very visible

"Ah, just a little accident!"

"Really? Poor you ...Oh, it's time for me to go, it was nice hanging out with you! See you soon!"

and with that, you left.

like Izana, Kakucho felt the strong need to look after you.

I mean, c'mon, who wouldn't want to protect a pretty girl like you?

Kakucho also hoped that he'd have a chance with you, but we'll come to that later

Safe to say, you two saw each other very soon

some nameless delinquents were cornering you and you had no other choice but to scream

Out of curiosity, Izana's "brother", looked at the source

and he saw red.

you were holding your purse close to your chest and pressed yourself against the wall, and in front of you were three guys with knifes in their hands

"give us you-" *CRUNCH*

the first one fell down, two more to go

You stared at the body on the ground, he must've given the guy a concussion

then you looked at your savior, who just punched the other two away and came to you

"Are you alright, ____?" "Yeah, I'm fine. But you didn't have to beat them up like that. but...but still, thank you."

he smiled and blushed and felt so happy that he saved you

"It was no big deal, but hey-; what were you doing at this hour? It's already past six!"

"I had to pick up my little brother from his friend's house. um, would you like to accompany me? I don't want to get attacked again, you know? I mean, if you're free at the moment...!"

Could this day get any better?

"Sure! You know where he lives?"

"Yup!"

and so, you two talked and laughed along the way here.

the topics lead to religion, and how you loved doing your prayers, spending money for charities, to your ideal type of husband,...somehow

"...and, well, my husband has to be a muslim as well!"

"Really? So...uh, if we're speaking of a friend, and he really likes that girl, but she is muslim, but they are close friends, and the guy thinks he has a chance with her...then...should he just-- convert to Islam?"

You felt your cheeks heat up. Why? guess we'll never know

"Uh, yeah! Y-yeah, sure! But! I-it shouldn't be taken lightly! Fulfilling the five prayers is not easy, or reading the Quran, or learning arabic, or doing your best at all times. Of course, the religion is beautiful and makes a better human out of you, but it is not to be taken lightly, and shouldn't be accepted because out of love to a person, but to Allah.

He created us after all. And the only thing he wants from us is to believe in him, to look for him when times get rough, to search assurements from him when you do not feel well, to thank him for having such a life as yours, even if it's bad. It could always get worse, so always be grateful for your creator."

Kakucho then started thinking more of the religion than of you

mans never had such a peaceful feeling when he was listening to podcasts of converted muslims and men or sheikhs talking about things that can or shouldn't be done

Kakucho thought that he'd never see heaven, but he prayed

"dear god, sorry for only talking to you now, but there's this girl I like-no, I love her! And well, it's kinda stupid of me to say this, because you know, 'cuz you created us and shit, but...could you maybe bring us together? I'll also try my best in becoming a muslim!"

He just hopes his prayers were heard

Eid-Adha came and you were busy as heck

you didn't have time to pick up kakucho's phone (let's imagine they have phones in that timeline) because of making all the food and cleaning up the house

boy did he get worried

he was already by your door and ready to know when his phone rang

it was you

he didn't even let it ring the second time and picked up the call

"Y-yeah?"

"Kakucho? Are you alright? Why did you call me so often? Did something happen?"

Again, he relished the fact that you were worried about him

"Ah, it's nothing, I was just asking you if you'd like to hang out with me today?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm still preparing the food for our holiday!"

"Oh! I'm sorry! I totally forgot about it-"

"Hey boy, stop standing in the way!", a male interrupted

the man was carrying a cut sheep

Kakucho thought about punching the man but started helping him when he remembered in front of who's house he stood

'if that guy is her father, then I have to leave the best first impressions!'

Kakucho. You were still in your gang uniform. YOU HAVE A SCAR ON YOUR FACE.

But the man didn't let a single emotion be noticed than hard work and fatigue, so he didn't really fight the delinquent who shockingly offered his help in a sweet tone and nice smile

"Dad, you're late- Kakucho?!", you yelped.

"You two know each other?", your mother chimed in as she examined the boy who was now standing with the cut sheep, your father let himself fall on a leathered chair

"Yeah, he's the one who saved me from the bad guys!"

'YOU TOLD THEM ABOUT ME?!?!?'

his day couldn't get any better

"Hello, my name is Kakucho, and I'm glad I could help, I'll be taking my leave now-"

"Stay."

Kakucho and you looked at your dad with surprised faces

"Who'll help me cut it into smaller pieces? My wife is tired and my daughter is not strong enough"

of course you objected because well, you're a girlboss/feminist

but eh

let the men do something for a change

and that's how kakucho ended up laughing at your parents stories of you being the clumsiest baby they had, with you dying out of embarrassment of course

your dad took him out for a moment

"Do you like me daughter?"

"Y-yes sir."

"You know that you have to be a muslim to marry her, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Tomorrow. 1. at this address, and don't you dare come late."

It was the address to a mosque

what could happen next?

Ran Haitani

That twisted mf

he actually couldn't have cared less about who you were

he actually was just strolling around Roppongi, looking for trouble to deal with

then he saw you

sweet, in your own little world, happily walking your way

bro nah

of course he followed you and made himself known

"Oh, hello? can I help you?"

"Yeah, uh...tell me. What's a sweet little thing like you doing here? And all alone?"

Please I'd punch that guy

"Well, I just had to do my groceries, and I just can't seem to find this store...do you know where it is? It's one of the only stores here that sell halal food"

he didn't know what halal meant but he'd for sure ask you later

And of course he knew every single shop here

he and Rindou owned Roppongi after all

when I tell you that he's been through the five stages of confusion

1. staring at the name, then the shop

2. then smiling reassuringly at you

3. looking at the shop's name again with a frown this time

4. calling one of his allies

5. telling you the truth

you being down, him feeling unwell

ran could've been a little dissappointed in himself for not knowing that shop, but oh well

"according to google maps, I should cross this road!"

'she has a phone? It looks rather new too-'

"Aw, man...there's so much traffic...how am I going to cross it?"

this 'gentleman' told you to follow him

all the damn cars stopped

you were shocked but also happy

ran's pride flared up

and you guys actually made it to the shop

this is the second part of five stages of confusion

1. why is there a different smell in every direction he breathes?

2. why is there such a wide variety of tea??

3. why are there sausages, onions and fish hanging from the ceiling?

4. why was there a cat on the cash register?

5. what did you need from here?

an elder man came to view and you bowed politely

ran felt somewhat out of place when you talked to the grandpa in a foreign language

the man studied your paper and put everything you needed in a bag

then he said something which made you mad

you quickly fished out your money and slammed it on the counter

the man yelled something

you yelled something

you pushed ran out of the shop

you ran out

but not before petting the sweet cat, which purred in return

and you sighed angrily

"uhm...what was that??"

"he didn't want to accept the money."

"so? good for you."

"wha- no! I was the first customer there. He had this shop only opened recently. and I felt pity on him, so I gave him thrice from the actual price I had to pay."

"why?"

"Because that's what people from my family do!"

He didn't understand you

but he wanted to get to know you more

so he tried to accompany you as much as possible

and well, you two became friends

and you talked about your religion a lot

ran liked that about you

that you were a kind young lady, who only wanted the best for everybody

but he froze when you once spilled the tea about one od your cousins from your dad's side

"and she wants to marry an American, I mean, can you believe it?!"

"wait, what's so special about it? I mean, if she loves him, then...you know...?"

"Yes, but he is not muslim. And he doesn't want to convert to Islam. That's the problem."

"...I don't- I don't understand-"

"A muslim woman has to marry a muslim man. This is tradition and religion."

"Oh.", that's when he froze.

Ran also came to terms that he really liked you from that moment.

Like, he really really liked you.

that...that might be a problem.

"So...marriages between a muslim woman and a non-muslim man are not allowed?"

"Nope."

"And what about you? would you marry a non-muslim man?"

And you laughed. Was this a joke to you?

"Why would I marry a non-muslim man? I don't need a person who hasn't got the same beliefs as I do. Also, I don't need a man even half as much as I need Allah, Ran."

'Huh'

Guess he'll convert to Islam then.

Yuzuha Shiba

This precious baby girl

She actually knew you from Emma and Hina (let's pretend they know each other)

she loves how modest you dress and how mature you act

she loves how you can cook sweet oriental food and also tell the craziest stories which you had with your cousins

this girl

however

doesn't get

why you don't have a boyfriend yet

like

the first option would be her brother, because Yuzuha thinks that you would be the best wife for him

and uh, well, she doesn't really know anybody else

but

she doesn't like that you have to marry a muslim guy

like c'mon

"why can't you just marry Hakkai, ____?"

"Aren't you christians? And Hakkai always freezes up when I'm near-"

"sheesh, he'll get over it. And he can convert."

"Yuzuha, no. I don't want him to accept another religion because of a girl. He has to accept it himself. and why are you so mad about the fact that I have to marry a muslim? I wouldn't want to marry any of these guys here. every single boy in our age is a delinquent."

"But...does that mean that you'll go back to your country? What if we never see each other again?"

"....Are you guilt-tripping me right now?"

"...is it working?"

You two cried after a few seconds while hugging each other

your precious holiday came near where you sadly had to kill one of your goats

you didn't kill, your father and his friends, but still

you cried when you saw the head

you wanted to irk your bestie out

"look what they did to him...!", you said over the phone.

"What do you- EEEEEWWWW, ____! Why'd you show me that?! Euehzfg....Heuvghghg, I think I'm gonna puke-"

You heard puking sounds and you gagged as well, but you also chuckled.

"I c r i e d when I saw the head. I don't wanna suffer alone, love."

"But why me though?!"

"Cuz you're my bestieeeee <3"

please just pretend they all have phones.

"Also do you wanna eat? I made food. It's our holiday after all!!!"

of course she came over

But she was mad surprised when she saw the amount of food there

she's never seen so different looking stuff

she wanted to eat something from every plate

and she did

little by little

you two gained at least two pounds

you two were not happy

but full.

and that's all that matters. :D

---

guys I wrote stuff that might not suit your expectations or what is not correct, because again, it is all from the knowledge my muslim friend gave me.

but also please feel free to correct me if I made a mistake!

[kookieminsuga]

The Wolf and his Coyote - Part 2

Hey guys! Sorry this took so long to update, I recently graduated from school and so I didn't have much time on my hands over the past year! Hopefully now I'll be able to update more. This chapter is also pretty short, they will get longer as we go. Enjoy!

Summary; Jungkook is the leader of the biggest biker gang in Korea. He is never interested in people unless they can benefit him in some way. That is until he runs into a girl who is the only person who appears to not be afraid of him. New to Korea, Amalia is an artist who spends most of her days working on her comics at her friend Minhyuks diner who also happens to be Jungkooks favourite hang out spot. What will happen when Jungkooks, a man who's heart seems to be frozen in ice, interest is peeked for the first time since he can remember?

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Pairing: Gang leader jk x Tsundere, artist Amalia

Rating: 18+ do not interact if you are a minor!

Word count: 1,030

Genre: Biker gang bts, action, romance, there will be smut down the line, angst, violence, humour.

Warnings: potential triggers, violence, gang talk, stalking.

“Thanks again!” I say to the guy at the counter of the ramen place near my house as I pick up my order and exit the restaurant.

Ah I can’t wait to just relax at home with my ramen and a good horror movie. Walking down the street, I turn into the alley way that leads to my place. I notice a man leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette. Damn that smells. I block my nose as I walk past him, not looking his way, due to my sensitive sense of smell. 

“Hey sexy!” The man says to me with a lewd, whistle. 

I shiver from the disgust I feel inside and do my best to ignore him and continue on my way.

“What are you, deaf or something?” He continued, “Don’t ignore me when I’m talking to you, lady.”

That last word made my blood boil and it took everything I had to not turn around and whack him. Due to his large size, I resigned myself to do so in my head.

To my horror I started hearing footsteps approaching me from behind. I gripped the straps of my heavy bag. As I thought, the man grabbed me by the shoulder but before he could do anything, I pivoted around and introduced his crotch to my bag. 

“I heard you-” I said bending down to look the now bent over man in the eye “You’re just not worth my time.” I said before breaking into a run, turning the corner to make it to my apartment. 

I put in the code and entered the building, gasping for air. I honestly didn’t think that would work, but considering the man was nowhere to be seen I guess it did. 

After collecting myself, I took the elevator up to my floor and entered my house. I threw my bag on the couch after removing my shoes and turning on the lights getting ready for my, hopefully, peaceful night.

Jungkooks pov.

Hearing the wind buzz by me as I speed down the highway usually helps me clear my head, however today I could not get the image of this girl out of my head. I’ve seen many pretty faces in my day and, although this one is not the prettiest, no one has ever left quite the impression on me. No one has ever looked at me with those eyes. Such unapologetic eyes. Such, familiar eyes. It’s clear to me that those eyes have seen things. Things that most people should never have to see. It was like looking in the mirror.

As my mind repeats the events that happened in the diner, I can’t shake the feeling of wanting to see her again. Is it just curiosity? I’m not usually the type to pine after woman, no its usually the other way around. This girl isn’t even my type. I must simply be in shock of her actions, yeah, that explains it.

I start to slow down as I reach the street I usually patrol at this time, parking my bike at a nearby shop. Strolling down the street, my mind goes back to one of the tattoos on the girls wrist. A large, neat, semi colon. I think most people would know the meaning behind a tattoo like that. The more I think about it, the more I wonder what she’s gone through. What confuses me the most however is, why do I even care so much? 

As I keep walking I start passing by a dark alleyway when out of the silence I hear voices. I turn to look and notice a man following a girl. Not on my turf. I start to head into the alleyway but before I have a chance to do anything the girl suddenly turns and hits the man in the crotch with her bag before uttering some words and making a run for it. Well doesn’t this look familiar. I keep my eyes on her as she turns the corner and to my surprise, its the same girl from the diner. A smirk forms on my lips before I could stop it, this is the second time this girl impresses me with her bravery in one day. 

I get pulled out of my train of thought as I notice the guy start to recover and get up to follow her. 

“Yah!” I project my voice to make sure he hears me.

He turns his rage filled eyes on me.

“WHAT?!” He yells. 

I notice the shift in his expression go from anger to fear as I walk towards him and he finally gets a glimpse of my face. 

“Can I know what you think you’re doing on one of my streets?” I asked, now directly in the mans face.

I noticed the tattoo of a hummingbird on his forearm, the symbol of our biggest rival gang, the hummingbirds led by Mr. Kim Seojun. A sick bastard who’m I’ve had to keep my eye on for years due to his crazy nature. Him and his mens, if you can even call them that, were known for tormenting people around the country. What is this trash doing on my turf?

If I’m being honest, although I’m certainly not innocent, I don’t really like to use violence. I only use it when necessary and never on innocents.

“I- I’m sorry Mr. Jeon, it seems I made a wrong turn.” He said, bowing his head.

Pathetic. 

“If I ever see your face around here again, it won’t turn out so good for you. Be happy I’m in a good mood.” I said taking a step to head back the way I came. 

“Oh and also-” I shifted back and punched him as hard as I could in the gut. “That was for harassing an innocent girl. I don’t know what it’s like around your area, but around here, no means no, got it? Give Mr. Kim my regards.”

He fell to the floor, clutching at his stomach. 

Feeling satisfied, I turned back around and headed back towards the street to continue my patrol. If there’s one thing I don’t tolerate, it’s the abuse of women. 

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Saturday :) Thank you to everyone who commented and liked/reblogged the last review. I was nervous to take on such an epic episode and it got well received. Thank you all truly you have no idea how much it meant to me. ❤️ We move onto post 2x11. The healing process. Or start of. This episode is an incredible follow up.

It shows why I love the Harper/Lucy dynamic so much. Their amazing scene in the shop wasn't gif'd so found a site that'll do easy gifs. So took video with my phone and made a few. So those be mine lol They are no where near the status of the ones I use from the library, but wanted it to have some sort of gif for it. So apologies for it not being as pretty haha Anyways The growth is unreal between Lucy/Harper and I’m here for it. Off we go.

2x12 Now and Then

We open our episode with Lucy putting concealer on her DOD Tattoo. She’s using her beautiful mirror to cover it up. It’s obvious she’s trying to cover up more than just the ink. Poor thing. I can’t even imagine the recovery mentally for something like this. We then see the guys talking about her over coffee in the kitchen. Jackson telling Nolan she had him run out at 6am to grab more concealer for her. Such a good friend. Says she does it every morning. John asks when she can have it removed?

Lucy comes out says ‘4 weeks, 2 days and 9 hours’ not that she’s counting... It’s her first day back she’s been cleared by medical and psych. Lucy asks that they don’t clap for her during roll call. I can’t blame her I hate being the center of attention in a public setting. Also its very obvious Lucy just wants to shove this into a box and move on. Sadly not how trauma healing works my dear…

We join Nyla and Tim at the station and she’s asking what he has planned for Lucy? I love her immediately wanting something in place for Lucy. Wants to see what he's doing to ease her back in. Tim explains he wants to do input overload. Forcing her to push through dynamic engagements. Hone in on her fight or flight responses. Nyla says so basically get her into a bunch of fights? Tim says he wants to remind Lucy she’s a cop not a victim.

Nyla is not even a little on board for this. Tells Tim she knows she isn't a victim. What she needs is to make peace with the voice inside her head. The one telling her she’s never going to be safe again. You can tell Nyla unfortunately has experience in this area. Tim fights back says he’s been training rookies a lot longer. He knows what she needs. (yes babe but not in this instance…) Harper tells him that’s ego talking right now and he concedes. (Look at him so proud.)

Nyla goes on to say what happened to her is every woman’s worst fear. It really is. I know it’s one of mine. Tim says he’s very aware of that. Her retort is perfect. ‘But you have never lived that fear.’ Harper is on it with the logic and good points. This is an excellent scene between them. They too have grown a lot in their interactions. Tim wouldn’t be giving her opinion on this time of day early on like he is now.

His face below when she tells him he can’t understand. It’s crushing. If he could undo her knowing this fear he would. He would do anything for that. Harper continues on trying to give him a little balm for his wounds. Says she knows he has her best interests at heart. Harper wants him to consider letting Lucy ride with her this week. To let her be served and guided by someone who’s been there. Tim looks sad and defeated but says 'And that Someone is you.’ She nods with tears being held in her eyes. Trying not to think too much about why she fits the bill so much.

This scene is outstanding. Both Eric and Mekia showing so much with just their expressions. You can see he feels for Harper too when she reveals this. It couldn't have been easy for her to do so. Also just adore her stepping in like this to take care of Lucy. By letting Tim know this piece of her history in order to convince him. Tim is throughly persuaded by Harper's plea. But also looks so very sad he can’t be the one to to guide her through this.

Especially when she’s done it for him so many times. I’m sure it’s killing him he can’t be her emotional support during this. As we all know that’ll come towards the end of this ep. It’s huge for him to step aside. Let Nyla take the reins like this and with Lucy of all people. His personal growth never ceases to astound me. Honestly this scene is that for both of them. Their arcs arcs are my favs. (Other than Lucy’s ha) They are my top 3 fav characters for a reason.

We start with roll call. Lucy apprehensively entering trying to avoid the clap. It happens anyways and she anxiously scurries to her table with the guys. Nolan says say he tried. Lucy says he’s dead to her LOL Grey announces she will be riding with Harper this week. This scene is another example of that incredible silent communication of theirs.

Lucy looks back to double check with Tim. Wanting confirmation this is true. He nods sadly at her like 'Yes you are and It’s ok.' Her face is a mixture of sadness/hurt but also trust. She knows he’s going to do what’s best for her. Even if what’s best isn’t him. I think she’s also a little confused as to why but doesn’t have time to question it any further. You’ll find out soon enough my girl.

Tim gets saddled with a ride along he didn’t approve. It’s too funny. Harper approved it knowing he would be stuck with it haha She’s grown a lot but she’s still Harper LOL Her satisfied face as she walks away is everything. Tim asks who it is? Cause he's not interested in tame calls today. (We know why) Nolan says his future daughter in law Abigail. That he actually wants to take high risk calls to scare her off. Tim smiles for first time says that’s his speciality haha

Lucy immediately asks Nyla why the switch? Sure that’s been burning a hole in her pocket since roll call. Harper gives her a simple answer. 'Tim thought she would’ve better served riding with her.' Lucy questions this. Goes off on a mini tangent saying this has to be a Tim Test. (Oh honey no. This is actually cause he cares about you. Not that your brain would think to go there honestly.)

Nyla bites back a little saying 'Do you think I would allow anyone to rope me into something like that? Especially Bradford?' haha Lucy says fair enough hehe Already their dynamic so much different this time around. More confidence on Lucy’s end. She asks again why the switch? Nyla lets her know due to her own experience she would have better insight for her. To help reintegrate her back out onto the street.

Lucy asks snarkily ‘Did you go on a date with a serial killer? ‘. Harper stumbles and says ‘Well no…’ Lucy cuts her off and says then she can’t help her with this. I think she’s still a little grumpy she’s not with Tim. She wants to take the Tim approach that she normally scolds him for. To push her emotions deep down in a box never to be opened. She then starts ranting off psychological exercises she’s been doing. Harpers face above says it all LOL Not even a little convinced that’s all she needs. Lucy finishes off with a shaky ‘I’m fine.’ Sure you are…

Harper and Lucy return to the station after helping out Angela out with an arrest. Nyla god love is her trying so hard with Lucy. Complete opposite of last time. Asks if she wants her to do paperwork? Lucy says no. Harper tells her she did a good job out there. Trying to commend her performance out in the field. Lucy is one worded again says ‘Thanks’ Harper smiles and says 'You're not gonna let me help you at all are you? Lucy reiterates that she doesn't need it. She’s fine. (You’re really not though..) Harper says ‘We’ll see.’

Lucy spots Abagail when Tim and Nolan are bringing in an arrest. She hugs her and thanks her for the basket and flowers. Tim like a moth to a flame flits over to them. Makes a classic jab at her. Says he lets her ride with Harper for half a day and now she’s hugging people on shift?

This scene is such a marriage moment. From her giving Tim crap about Abigail not buying his tough act, to him biting back that her fate isn’t in his hands like Lucy's is. (that one a little heavier for him than usual) Lucy is giving him the most wifey look as she knocks on him for his lack of bark. Damn I just love them sfm it’s insane. Look at these two clueless idiots haha Abigail ducks away to use the bathroom leaving them alone.

Tim instantly softens for her once Abigail is gone. Takes off his tough guy act to check in with her. Says he heard she dodged some bullets. Lucy asks if he’s keeping tabs on her? A smile on her face. You know she’s actually really hoping he’s doing that. It would prove to her he cares. More than you know Lucy far more than you know. He continues his marshmallow trend letting her know if she needs anything he’s there. Look at this man's face. He would do anything she needs. He's trying so hard to keep his bounds by letting Harper help her. But can't help letting her know if she does need him to just ask.

She asks for a Time Machine. His face. Sucker punch to my feels. If he could deliver that you best believe he would. What I love the most about this scene is Lucy's vulnerability. She's been fending off Harper all shift. Trying to convince her she's fine. Holding her cards very close to her chest. Two minutes with Tim that wall comes crashing down. She immediately confides in him that she isn't ok yet. That a time machine feels like the only way to fix how she is currently feeling. The sadness in both their eyes.

Her's seeking comfort from his and him wanting to fix it so badly. Trying to relay how much he wants to be able to do that for her. The immense amount of trust and comfortability they’ve built shines in this scene. She gets a stolen moment with Tim between calls and is more open with him than she’s been the entire day. Nolan and Jackson included in that. He is her safe space in so many ways. This scene truly showcases that. The emotional pull between them with those final looks. *heart clutch*

Lucy is getting changed in locker room and we see her run her fingers over the fading concealer. Wanting to cover it up it as soon as possible. She covers it up quickly when someone walks by. Harper and Angela ambush her and says she’s not going home but out with them. She’s so confused.

I love Nyla enlisting Angela on this. Says they’re gonna have a girls night. Lucy gets defensive at first and says she can’t believe Nyla is not convinced she’s ok. They do little white lie and say it's just to hang out. But if she doesn’t want to….Lucy jumps on their plan after that. Saying they've never hung out before but she's in. She asks where they’re going? A a bar? A club?

They lead Lucy to speed dating LOL It’s got some solid logic attached though. She's instantly uncomfortable. Nyla starts with saying Lucy was right. She had never gone on a date with a serial killer. Angela jumps in and adds ‘That would make anyone question their judgement.‘ Harper tells her she’ll never truly know she is fine if she can’t trust her judgement again.

That in this controlled environment she can get that back. By going through all these guys and sharpening it again. Also the song choice for this scene is perfect. 'Shaking off the rust'. Exactly what they’re trying to get her to do. She makes them do it with her. Haha They tell her that's fair enough. Angela pulls out a flask. LOL I love her.

Lucy gets started and grills the hell out of these guys. Asking if they’d submit to a full background check? If not why? Haha omg. This scene is really funny watching all their reactions. Harpers dead pan face as these guys say stupid crap is so funny. Their plan is going successfully until the final guy touches a thread on her sweater near the tattoo…

Lucy blacks out and he’s on his ass in seconds. Harper rushes over and tells Lucy it’s ok. Angela escorts the guy out quickly. Telling him. 'Maybe don’t touch a woman’s sweater without asking.' LOL How he doesn’t need to make a thing of it as she leads him out. I love them protecting her when she has a clear PTSD reaction. Harper asks what happened? Lucy doesn’t reply just looks mortified she’d done it at all. She takes off without a word. Poor thing.

Tim is none to pleased when word gets back to him about it. He asks Angela 'What the hell is Harper doing?' He took a huge leap of faith by letting Nyla do this. Angela backs her and lets him know Harper is doing this to help her. His instinctual fierce protector is coming out. Angela has to ground him a bit before he goes after Nyla. Says not to go all ‘Tim’ about this but thought he should know. He relaxes and softly asks ‘Lucy’s ok? ‘He is an absolute squishy marshmallow for her in this one and letting it show. I love it so much. Angela reassures him 'She will be.'

Lucy starts off her day saying she’s fine. It's like if she says it enough it'll be true. Smh. Harper reiterates she is not. Lucy continues on to say she was only doing what she was trained to. React quickly and subdue the threat. Harper disagrees. Replies that all the guy did was pick a piece of thread off her. That she was triggered. Lucy snaps and says ‘Yeah well what do you know about it?’ Oh Lucy. So very angry and barely keeping it in. Nyla sighs and knows she needs to share why she took Lucy on.

Just her word of being her best option isn't going to cut it. It’s here we finally find out why Harper decided she was the best option. Why sadly she could relate. The absolute sass on Lucy's face above when Harper starts her story. Like she thinks she will gain nothing from this other than a lecture. How wrong you will be. Harper begins with telling her UC you can never let go. Not even for a second. That it is physically and emotionally draining. Because you are reading through every glance.

Lucy continues the sass and replies ‘ So what you slipped up and someone figured out you were a cop?’ Nyla disregards her comment and continues. She takes a deep breath and you can see how hard this is for her to share, but she’s going to do it anyway. Tells Lucy she used to meet her case officer at a bar. It was the one place she could let go and truly be herself. Take off the mask of whoever she was at the time.

Tells her one night one beer turned into two and then she lost count. Says if it was any other scenario she would sobered up and cut herself off. But she wasn’t with the crooks she was with another cop. That she trusted him. She should’ve been safe. You can see the defensiveness from Lucy fade away as Nyla gets emotional. It’s inferred just by their looks what happened to her. Clearly he took advantage of her being drunk and violated that trust deeply. Realization washing over Lucy with tears in her eyes.

Nyla says it was a long time ago but the point was she shut down. Didn’t even tell her husband. Kept pushing her feelings down. Thinking she would just deal with them when she was ready. Lucy interjects ‘But with each week it only got worse…’

Nyla admits maybe she pushed her too hard last night, but she knows what it is like not to face things head on. Lucy takes a deep breath her words getting through. Looks like she’s holding back tears. Nyla is so sweet and supportive. Tells her she’s going to get through this. She promises. Such a good shot of them both. I talk a lot about Eric's expressions. Melissa too is incredible good at conveying so much with just a look. Written all over this scene.

Lucy NEEDED this moment. As much as Tim wanted to be this person for her he couldn’t be. Not in this capacity anyway. Nothing hits home more than someone who’s been through what you have. I commend and respect Nyla so much for doing this for her. Lucy asks what happened to her case officer? Best reply ever above. Note to self. Don’t mess with Nyla Harper. I love this woman SFM. One of the best female role models Lucy could’ve gotten post Capt. Anderson.

We roll back to Tim and Nolan in their shop. They’re ride-along free. So Tim decides to ask about Lucy. The concern just seeping out of his body. The way he grips the steering wheel while he does. Asking how she’s doing? Like really doing? Nolan tries to pass off a generic answer. Telling him she's good. Tim is deciding if he wants to call him on his BS or not. It’s written all over his face.

John sees the genuine concern on Tim’s face. Picks up on him feeling like that wasn’t enough of an answer. He amends it by saying 'Really.' Tim relaxes a little but not enough that he seems convinced. John decides to add more. Saying how once tattoo is off things will better. Like that’ll be the magical fix to all this. I mean it’s a drop in the ocean of what’s she dealing with. Tim knows that.

Why his reply schools Nolan. Questioning him on his POV of the whole thing. Asks him if he think's because its physical it somehow makes it worse? That tragedies always leave scars only some you can see. He knows that all too well. Not that Nolan will ever get an inch into that window. He gets her struggle so much more than Nolan ever would. God love John he sure tries but falls short. Just another reason why Tim is her person and Nolan never been could’ve been.

Anything that emotionally damages you leaves deep scars that take a long time to fade. I can relate to this all to well. Why I relate to Tim so deeply. I had that relentless emotional abuse growing up. Its not something you walk away with scot free. It stays with you whether you like that or not. It’s almost worse when you can’t see the scars, because people understand it less. Because there is no physical marker. Why Tim is so defensive when John pops off that the tattoo being gone will fix everything. It’s a start but nothing more than that.

We start this incredible moment with Lucy in the training room. Punching the hell out of a punching bag. Such a good parallel to the last time we were in here with 2x02. Roles very much reversed. Lucy uses her shirt to wipe her face exposing her tattoo. Tim sees this and respectfully looks away. Lucy awkwardly says ‘Hey...Hi 'His opening line is classic. Telling she’s got no quit in her does she?

He says it with so much pride though. The way he speaks about her with such reverence. I’ll never get over it. This entire scene. The pride he holds for her and this entire situation. Lucy tries to defer that to being around him. Says she gets it from him. Tim refuses to take any credit for that. Says she walked in the door that way. It’s what caught his eye in the first place. Wouldn’t be surprised if he heard about her arrest on the way in and requested her.

Here comes one of the most beautiful parts of this scene. He was about to walk away after their mini chat. Even says good night then stops himself. Hesitates for a moment before jumping into it. Some may think the best part is towards the end. When he’s telling her about her tattoo. Now that is one of my fav parts as well. It’s iconic. But I like to point out the parts that aren’t brought up as much. Tim decides just like Harper did to carve out a piece of his past. Share a piece of his soul and history with her. With the hopes it’s going to help heal her present.

Decides that is more important to do this than walk away leaving her to stew. Tim so badly wants to empathize and relate with her. God how far he’s come. The impact she’s had on this man. For him to even think to do this for her. Imma cry. I just love their development so much. Their slow burn is so well written. It’s such a beautiful thing to witness. Lucy had no idea with all her sunshine ways, empathy and understanding for his things, that she was teaching him how to be there for her emotionally. For Tim to show up for her like he does in this scene. She has awoken this portion of him and its showing.

Never be over Tim sharing a little piece of himself by telling her about his past traumas. Letting her know about the physical ones and more importantly the ones you can’t see. Telling her how they’re apart of who he is whether he likes it or not. They made him who he is now. Lucy tells him she appreciates it but it isn’t the same as what she went through. A sadist etched her day of death into her skin. S1 Tim might’ve backed off at this point. Seen her resistance to his help and tapped out.

What’s so great is he doesn’t deter from his course at all. Only strengthens what he’s going to tell her. He does what he does best. Adding some logic to his empathy. I love how fiercely he’s says his 'But you didn't die' line. So desperately wants her to understand what’s she’s overcome. How incredible he finds her resilience. How she fought to stay alive. You can see Lucy getting mad like he’s not getting it. He continues and says he’s in the ground and she isn’t. Her final words to Caleb came true. He died. She lived.

Tim backs it up with saying he isn’t telling her what to do. Which is huge for him. Also to quell her anger a bit. You can tell she is still trying hard not to continue defending her anger. He just wants her to have some perspective and possibly some peace. Which she has so earned at this point. Tells her his iconic line of how he views her tattoo. That she may choose to see it as her greatest failure. I would feel that way for sure. To have your security ripped away from you about something you felt confident about. Not only that but to have a reminder of that failure etched onto you. Never letting you forget.

He knows that she may see it as a massive failure. That she may also be worried that he views her as one because of it. Which is part of why Tim is letting her know his POV on this. Needs her to know that isn't what he sees in her at all. What Tim sees is bad ass survivor. The tattoo is proof of that. (Just like when she saw his kinesthetic learning as a strength and not a weakness) She survived something incredibly traumatic and came out the other side. Not a damn person can take that away from her. He is her fierce protector and sometimes that means protecting her from herself. Which is exactly what he's doing in this scene. She is beating herself up so much over this and he won't have it.

Her teary ‘Thanks’ is a mirror to his back in 2x02. I love it so much. He couldn’t be any cuter putting his hands in his pockets. Asking her if she’s riding with him tomorrow? Like a nervous boy asking his first girl he likes out. She laughs and smiles replies yes sir. That beautiful smile of his he reserves just for her comes out.

She needed Harper a majority of the ep no doubt. But she needed to finish strongly with a moment with Tim. To really seal the deal towards that healing. To have a deep convo with her person. Tim finally getting to be there for her the way he wanted to be the entire episode. Wonderful moment to end the episode on.

He then tosses her the ring that saved her life. (My shipper heart trying not to explode with how long he's been carrying that in his pocket.) It’s then we see the change in Lucy completely. That smile he’s been working towards this entire scene. She's in awe he kept it and returned it to her in this moment. The way these two look at each other. Said this before but if you had no context you’d think they were together already. The in love looks this scene ends with. My shipper heart is gonna implode. The heart eyes are out of control in s2 and I love it. Perfect way to end this episode.

~~~~

Side Notes-Non Chenford.

Not really anything. Jackson had his own SL separate with Angela. Otherwise it was a pretty intwined episode.

Thank you to everyone’s continue likes/comments (oh how I love the comments) and reblogs. They make every ounce of effort for these worth it. Shall see you all in 2x13 :)

[raethethey]

Tucked Away Tattoos

Member: Lee Minho x gn!reader

Word Count: 3087

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, tattoo adventure!

Warnings: swearing, general anxiety, small existence crisis attack lol

A/N: I love this. I think I'll always love this. This was so fun to write even though it is now 7am (haha my sleep schedule hates me). Thank you loml for requesting this @labyrinthgate <3 I hope ya'll enjoy!

Part of @the-writing-nook's monthly prompt for January: write something set in a small town. Go check out the other ones here! (link to be added when the masterlist comes out at the end of the month)

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Summer break was right around the corner. You had so many plans to adventure and get out there. First on your list was to get a tattoo. You had been thinking about getting one for years, something special to you and meaningful enough that if your parents ever found out (you, an adult with your own money) got one they wouldn’t absolutely hate it. (They’d still frown at you because they thought you ruined your career life forever, but it’s not like they could do anything about it either.) So you called up your best friend, Minho, called the tattoo shop you’d researched for weeks, and made an appointment for the first weekend after finals.

Time flew by fast. Maybe too fast. Your appointment was approaching and your nerves were on the fritz. Were you really doing this? Really getting something completely and totally permanent (besides the laser removal options)?

Yes. There was no turning back now.

Minho pulls up to your dorm building in his beat-up family car, the one you snuck out of the house in so many times in high school, the one that took you to all your club activities in middle school, the one you threw up in during elementary school. He rolls down the window and as always lays down on the horn, loud enough and long enough everyone in a five-mile radius turns their head to see what’s going on.

Jogging to the car as quick as you can, you hop in and slam the door shut, punching his arm, “Shut up, you menace! You’re going to get the police called.”

He just laughs, putting the car in drive and turning on the radio to a quiet volume; it’s a level just for background noise. “So, where is this little tattoo shop you’ve decided to throw your money at?”

“Just outside of town, kinda near that cat café we went to last month,” you say, pulling up directions. It’s only a twenty-minute drive from the university near the small lighthouse at the bay.

“Oh, I’ve been there! It has plants everywhere and this cute little shop cat that none of the artists know where it came from, they just accept that it lives there now.” He turns out of the parking lot making his way to the main road, the GPS silently telling him which directions to turn.

Quirking your eyebrow, you turn toward him as much as you can while being buckled, “You’ve been to a tattoo shop? Without me? Traitor.”

He rolls his eyes, “Jisung wanted another piercing, six wasn���t enough apparently.”

“Hey, one can never have too many piercings. Wait! Was it that forward helix one he got? I love that one.”

He nods, leaning back in his seat to get comfortable for the drive. “I may have also gotten a piercing.”

Unbelievable. Lee Minho? A piercing? He has his lobes pierced, you know that much, but another one? “You’re joking. You’ve gotta be joking.” He glances at you. “Oh my god, you did not. You did? Where?!”

His lip twitches. You slap him on the arm resting in between you on the center console.

“You did not, you asshole. You’re always doing this to me.”

“Okay, okay, I didn’t, but I did get a tattoo.” A small grin graces his face.

Not believing him this time, you turn back to the front of the car and turn the volume up, rolling your eyes at his antics.

He turns it down again and looks at you, glancing at the road every few seconds, “I actually did though. I’m not kidding about this one. It’s small, almost invisible, I’m not surprised you haven’t seen it.” He holds his arm out in front of your face, close enough to have you crossing your eyes at the proximity. He uses his thumb to point at the side of his middle finger. There, the tiniest marks you’ve ever seen is a tattoo, a real tattoo, of a minimalist cat face. Two tiny triangles for ears, a smaller filled-in triangle for a nose, and six lines for whiskers.

It’s cute. It’s very…him.

You’re stunned, to say the least. It takes you a while to come up with something to say, something normal and not a babble of ‘oh my god you’re adorable can I kiss you?’ Because that would not be good.

Instead, he speaks up again in your silence, “I swear I was only there for emotional support for Sung, but the dude asked if I wanted anything since I went all the way out there and you know Jisung is a terrible influence, so I got this. It was small enough they didn’t even make me pay for it.” He huffs a laugh, putting his arm back down.

Your eyes follow his hand, still trained on his finger even though you can’t see it from this angle anymore. Finally, something in your brain starts to work again and you grab his hand, tugging it to your face again, this time to see it right side up instead of upside down as he had shown you. It leaves his wrist at an awkward angle.

“Ow! Not so rough, I am driving, you know?”

You risk a touch. You lick your finger and rub it across the ink to see if it would smudge.

He pulls his hand away and rubs it on his pants. “It’s real, y/n, ew. Why would you do that?”

“Oh. My. God. IT IS! You got a tattoo! Without me! Not only are you a traitor, but you’re also a backstabber! We promised! You promised we’d be there together if we ever got a tattoo for the first time.”

“No, we didn’t! I do not recall a promise like that ever being made. What are you talking about?”

“Fifth grade. We were on the bleachers listening to this dude talk about motorcycle safety and he had the sickest arm sleeve. You don’t remember?”

His mouth falls open and his head hits his seat, “Ohhh, yeahh. Sorry.” He grimaces at his forgetfulness.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

As the shop comes into view, Minho starts looking for a parking spot. Miraculously, there's an open one right in front of parlour. And it’s free. No wonder considering how small this town is. He parks and you both hop out, heading into the shop. The little bell rings signalling your arrival and a woman walks out from the back. Presumedly, she’s an artist what with her arms decked out in ink and a few piercings littering her ears and face.

“Hi, how can I help you two lovely, blank people today?” A friendly smile stretches across her face revealing another piercing just inside her lipline, in front of her teeth.

You smile back, “Hey, I’m here for an appointment? Y/n at 4:30?”

She checks her computer and nods, “Yep. Can I see your ID?” You hand it over, having it ready. “Great, I’ll just have you sign these papers and we can get right to it.” She hands you a clipboard from behind the desk.

After filling it out and handing it back, she takes it to the back to get it into the system, telling you your artist will be right with you.

A few minutes pass as you wait in the lobby, flicking through the binders laid out on a small coffee table of all the artists' past works and styles. Minho is scrolling on his phone and tapping his foot.

The silence, save for the rock music playing through the speakers around the room and Minho’s tapping, is making you nervous. You start wringing your hands together, biting your lip and glancing out the window, at the decorations, and then at the cat that saunters into the room from who knows where. You nudge Minho and point to the white feline. He glances up at you and follows your line of gaze, a small grin appearing on his otherwise stoic face. Ever the cat dad with three of his own, he starts making noises at it. Small clicks of his tongue and soft tuttings. The cat gingerly makes its way over to him and rubs its face against his pant leg, meowing quietly.

You whisper, “How is it that every cat loves you?”

“It’s universal,” he whispers back, “They all communicate telepathically telling each other which ones are the good ones. Turns out I’m a great one.” He smirks at you as he pets its head, scratching the top of it and eventually its chin.

Rolling your eyes, you reach out a hand to let it sniff you. It bumps its head against your fingers, purring. When it jumps into your lap all of a sudden, you coo overcome by its adorableness. “Who’s the great one now?” You smirk back at Minho.

A man walks out of the back this time and calls your name. Standing up, the cat leaps from your lap and scurries back to where it came from.

Minho follows you and the man to the back of the room where a station is set up and a chair, reclined to a flat position is waiting for you.

The man, also covered in an array of swirling lines, more colourful than the lady’s, asks if you’re ready as you sit down. Nodding you pull out your phone and start to look for your reference pictures. Once you find them you show them to the artist and a few minutes pass as you talk about placement and the different pain levels for each area. Deciding your forearm would be the best place for your first tattoo, he starts drawing up a stencil of your idea, asking for your opinion every few seconds.

The closer he gets to finishing it, the more anxious you get, rubbing your hands up and down your thighs as you tap your toes together. They’ve gotten quite sweaty in the past half hour.

Minho has been characteristically quiet since you walked in, but now he speaks up, “Hey. It’s gonna be fine. Just half an hour, maybe less and you’ll be walking out of here a new person. A new, badass person with ink to show off to all your friends and to make your mother faint and father threaten to never speak to you again,” he gives you a reassuring smile. The one that only brings up half of his mouth and makes his eyes twinkle. “This guy’s done thousands of these, there’s no reason to worry about how it’ll look, plus,” He takes your hand in his, the one with the little cat face on it, and squeezes lightly, “I’ll be right here the whole time. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you like. Now breathe.”

You take a deep, shaky breath and exhale slowly, returning his calm smile as a silent thank you. Unconsciously, you start gently rubbing his little tattoo, the placement already ingrained in your brain.

“Alrighty. Here’s the final product. You like it?” The artist shows you the stencil and you nod, giving him a thumbs-up with the hand that isn’t holding Minho’s.

He starts placing it on your forearm and the process begins shortly after. It’s not as bad as you thought it was going to be, but damn you if you won’t take this chance to hold Minho’s hand.

He isn’t really a touchy guy and prefers witty comments to lift you up instead of hugs or pats on your head. Any chance you get to be closer to him without giving away your true thoughts is a chance you’ll take.

Growing up, you and Minho had always been close. Not just proximately by way of living arrangements as kids, but practically joined at the hip all throughout childhood. You did everything you could together. Whoever said absence makes the heart grow fonder, would change their mind if they got to spend almost every waking hour with Minho like you did. Shit, you were head over heels for your best friend. He was funny in the weirdest, bestest way, charming, caring in his own odd ways, and smart. So fucking smart. Nobody knew the most random facts about anything like he did. And if you thought he was the most handsome man on earth, no one needed to know but you. Fuck, you were in love with him.

Maybe getting this tattoo would change things. If you were brave enough to do this maybe you could be brave enough to tell him. Or maybe all your courage would desert you as soon as it’s over.

You squeeze his hand instead. He squeezes right back, softly rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand to soothe you. “You’re doing great, just keep breathing. I’m not carrying you home if you pass out.”

You chuckle and it just slips out, completely on accident, “God, I love you so fucking much.” You take a deep breath and close your eyes. For barely a millisecond. They fly back open immediately as soon as you process what you actually just said. You’re too scared to look at him. The ceiling is a much better view, you think. Why did you say that? He’s gonna reject you. He’s gonna stop being your friend now. It’s going to be awkward every time he sees you if he doesn’t completely avoid you. You’re going to have to tell your parents why he’s stopped coming around. You won't ever get to see his cats again! Why, why why did you open your mouth? You’re frozen in fear. You might have stopped breathing. Maybe you’re dead? Please, you want to fade out of existence right now.

“Breathe, y/n. You’re turning purple.”

You let out the breath you were holding. Hopefully, your last breath before you follow the light to sweet, sweet endless nothing where you never have to face him again. Why couldn’t you just respond normally? One simple word change and you wouldn’t be having a crisis right now.

The artist speaks up, “Almost done here. Like he said, you’re doing great. Just a bit more and we’ll patch it up and you can go home.”

A weak smile tugs at your lips, though it’s more of a grimace thanks to your inner turmoil.

“See, almost done. And like you said, I love you so fucking much too.” The world stops spinning. You chance a glance at Minho though you can’t be too sure you’re meeting his eyes; the world may have stopped spinning but the room is going 80 miles per hour. However, as soon as your gaze lands on him, everything slows and it feels like the world fades around you. You can barely hear the tattoo gun anymore.

There’s no mischievous glint in his eyes, just pure honesty. And love. Maybe you did die and this is just a poor excuse for heaven; hearing what you want to hear in the afterlife. Some joke life is.

You don’t know how long this purgatory lasted but all of a sudden someone is helping you sit up. You feel a tightness around your arm and look to find saran wrap around it, the tattoo covered in gauze to protect it.

“All done! You were a great patient. Here’s an aftercare worksheet to make sure it doesn’t get infected and some extra gauze to switch out occasionally, I assume you have saran wrap at home. If it starts itching or you get a rash, call a doctor, yadda yadda; that paper will tell you everything you need to know. Enjoy being part of the community and we hope to see you back again soon!” The man starts cleaning up his station as Minho gently helps you stand up and gather your things to pay and leave.

Unfortunately, your knees don’t really work right now and you start to buckle. Shock catching up to you; more from what you think you heard than the tingling sensation in your arm. You never hit the floor though, Minho guides your slight fall back to the chair and sits you down again.

You hear muffled conversation from him and the artist as you try to gather your bearings, Minho’s hand firm your grasp.

A cup of water enters your vision and you flimsily take it, gulping down its contents. Then Minho’s face, his beautiful, perfect, angelic face enters your vision, smiling like a cherub sent from heaven. Goddamn him. Why does he have to be so pretty?

“It’s just genetics, angel. Don’t worry, you’re not too bad looking yourself.”

Did you say that out loud?

“Yes. You also said that out loud. Come on, love. This man doesn’t have all day and we gotta get back home.”

“I-” Your voice cracks. “Sit. Can’t move. You-”

He chuckles looking at the man still cleaning up his station. “Sorry about this. They’re usually more coherent with their words. They might be in shock right now.” He gathers you up in his arms again, careful of your arm, and with your clumsy steps barely helping, he moves you to the waiting room again to sit for a bit longer, until you have your wits about you again.

His figure disappears for a while as your senses start to return. You don’t know how long it is again before he comes back, but he’s got his own bandage around his middle finger.

Worry speeds up your reviving process. “Are you okay? What happened? Why do you have a bandage around your finger?”

“Relax, love. It’s just a new addition. You needed a bit more time to come back from lalaland and the nice man offered when he finally recognised me from when I came with Sung.” He squats in front of you, loosely taking your hands in his. “Can you walk now? Without falling on your face?” You nod, blinking. “Good,” he stands up, pecking your forehead on the way up, “Let’s go home now and talk about this wonderful revelation you’ve just made while high on brave juice.”

“Oh god, I did say that out loud for sure, didn’t I? Fuck.”

“Don’t forget what I said. That’s kind of important too, angel.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Bonus:

“I can’t believe they let you get another tattoo for free.”

“I can’t help it if people just like me more, besides it’s cute.”

“It’s an ‘x’ and a squiggle on the other side of your finger.”

“It’s a cat butt and it matches the face I got.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

[josephtrohman]

wait, now I'm curious, can you show your fob tattoos?

sorry for the delay anon, i wanted to take the time to potentially take some better pics and i had a very busy evening last night lol. tattoo tour under the cut!!!

my futct keyhole tattoo was my first tattoo gotten at the beginning of february :3 i can’t wait to go back to this artist bc she killed it but it also was my most expensive tattoo (understandably so) so i need to save up but i have more non fob ideas i want to take to her based on her portfolio. it’s a little purple cuz this is from when it was still fresh and the purple is from the stencil but i feel a lil self conscious about my arm rn so i can’t take a better pic rn lol it’s not purple tho

this one was the second one i got and it’s a difficult location for me to photograph since this is on the outside of my ankle lol. i got this one incredibly impulsively near the end of february, bc i had a stressful evening and before going to bed i looked up tattoo shops near me that had online booking availability for the next day, and i booked after looking at the guy’s portfolio a bit even tho he practices more traditional styles n traditional tattoos aren’t my fav. i really wanted to get something special to remember my 8ball, and i was really excited and proud about coming up with this idea on my own!! this one i was slightly upset with at first bc i just think i should have waited but now that ive gotten used to it i appreciate it soooo much more!!!! and now im really happy and think it looks cool :) also this one hurt like a BITCH i wasn’t expecting it given the relative ease of my first one (the shading was rough on the first one but that was it), and the guy even offered me numbing spray for the black, but i powered through and he was very impressed with me and said i was tough lol :)

these next two i got at the same time and for some reason i can’t take a good pic of the one rn (it’s got a lot of adhesive on it from removing the second skin so it looks kinda bad right at this moment until the adhesive washes off more, but beware the second picture has a little bit of blood)

pls don’t make fun of my chubby arm but anyways these two i got at the same time just this past saturday from a lady who specializes in tiny tattoos :) the xo is based on how it actually appears on the back of the record, and she tried to font match it and i think it’s soooooooo cute (it’s rly little on my wrist, so little she just charged me for the i swear i say tattoo!!!). i know it’s kind of crazy to get two tattoos for the same song but 1) that’s my song im the number one highest streamer on stats fm, 2) xo has gotten me through so much :( i am considering one more xo tattoo in the future (getting “love never wanted me but i took it anyway” in pete’s handwriting using the font someone made out of his handwriting). but it’s my plan to wait on that one and make that be a far future tattoo, UNLESS they play xo as my 8ball in which case my ass will get it the next chance i get. lol

i maybe have one or two fob themed tattoos i’m potentially interested in getting in the future but that’s like a long term thing, i want to get some tribute to whatever my 8ball may be at minneapolis to go with my fame < infamy tattoo, especially if they play a song that’s one of MY songs, but this is generally where i’ll leave the fob tattoos for a bit and just getting more personal/non music related tattoos lol

[emoprincey]

Dukexiety week - tattoo/florist

Author’s note: Here’s my submission for @dukexietyweek, I used the day one prompt tattoo/florist. 

Writing taglist: @iclaimedtobethebetterbard

Word count: 798 

“Are you sure about this?” Virgil asked, for the fifth time that day. He was wringing his hands as the two of them walked down the street to the tattoo parlour. “It’s just something I sketched, I’m nowhere near as good as a professional artist.”

 Remus caught one of his hands, starting to swing it between them as they walked. “V, babe, you’re an amazing artist, you know I love your work. And I love you, there’s nobody I’d rather have design a tattoo for me.”

“Sap,” Virgil scoffed, hiding his face behind his hoodie sleeve, but Remus could see him blushing. “Hey, is this the place?”

 Remus looked up at the shop they were passing. It was indeed Remy’s tattoo parlour, the windows filled with designs that his friend had drawn. “It is, come on! Remy will be excited to meet you!”

 “I’ll be with you in a minute, babes,” Remy’s voice called when the two of them entered the shop, and Remus glimpsed his friend through the doorway to the back room, their head titled back to down the last of their coffee.

 While they waited, Remus caught Virgil looking wistfully around at the tattoo designs Remy had tacked up on the walls. “Fancy one of your own? We could get some matching ones!”

 Virgil snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m letting a massive needle anywhere near me,” he said, then he paused. “I’m sure this’ll work out great for you, though.”

 Remus chuckled. “You don’t have to comfort me, baby, I’ve been here enough times before.”

 “That’s true, Remus has been one of my best customers through the years,” Remy said when they finally emerged from the back room.

 “Oh, you’re too kind,” Remus laughed.

 “You want this on your forearm, right? As much as I appreciate your attempts to bring back some of the worst parts of ‘80s fashion, I’m gonna need you to take those off,” Remy said, gesturing to Remus’ neon green arm-warmers.

 Remus let out his best offended gasp as he peeled off the arm-warmer on his left forearm to reveal the tattoo he’d been keeping covered since Virgil came out as trans a few weeks ago. He’d gotten the original tattoo pretty early on in their courtship – his twin brother Roman, who’d been through his fair share of heartbreaks and gotten a few tattoos of his own removed, had warned Remus that he might regret it, but Remus was happy to discover he’d been right when he decided Virgil was the one for him after only two months of dating. The tattoo was a pretty simple design, of Virgil’s birth name in a nice stylised font, surrounded by purple flowers.

 “And the design for the cover-up?” Remy prompted.

 Remus nodded, and took the paper Virgil had sketched the new design onto out of his pocket. Somehow, he’d managed not to get it too badly creased, leaving Virgil’s drawing intact and perfectly legible.

 Remus had discussed the tattoo with Remy beforehand, and sent them a picture of Virgil’s sketch, but Remy still let out a low whistle when Remus handed it to them. “Damn, Virge, this is good! I should get you to sketch up some designs for the shop sometime.”

 Virgil ducked his head the way he always did when he received compliments, but Remus could tell he was pleased with the attention. He’d worked hard on the redesign for Remus’ tattoo. He’d made sure to keep most of the basic shapes the same to make it easier on Remy, incorporating his chosen name with a few embellishments into the flower design.

 “Yeah, I can work with this,” Remy said, holding the paper against Remus’ arm. “Sit down, you know what to do. We can get through this today, easy.”

 Remus sat down in the chair next to Remy’s tattoo machine, and Remy sketched the new design on areas he’d need to change. Virgil sat in a chair nearby. Despite his aversion to getting a tattoo himself, he seemed curious about what was going on, and asked Remy a couple of questions about the process.

 The tattoo took a couple of hours, along with a few breaks – shorter than most tattoos Remus had gotten.

 When it was finally done, Remy wiped Remus’ arm clean. “What do you think?”

 Remus looked down at the fresh tattoo of Virgil’s name, surrounded by purple flowers with added vines that looped around the letters.

 “Yeah, it’s perfect,” Remus said, hoping how choked his voice was wouldn’t show, and tilted his arm to let Virgil see.

 Virgil peered at the tattoo, a grin forming on his face. “That’s... that’s amazing. God, I’m still not used to seeing my name written down.”

 “Well, you’re gonna see this a lot more often now,” Remus said with a smile.

[yisony07]

The Green and Improved Boss - Gerald version

Idea suggested by @electrodudesmith95

A few quick footsteps splashed the puddles that the raindrops generated under the street lights. The hooded figure was holding a black suitcase, soaked from the rain, and was running without stopping, as if in a great hurry, or rather… as if escaping from something. He kept running down the same side of the street, under the electric yellow lights of the stalls and shops until he came to a corner. The figure turned his head, looking to his sides and, when he was sure he was completely alone, he entered the dark alley that hid his presence.

That figure, seeing himself safe, stopped, leaned against the wet wall to catch his breath and removed his hood, revealing a man of average build with some tattoos around his neck. His lips were slightly opened, straight, but then he curved them into a smile that revealed satisfaction. The man turned to the street once more, then settled back to open the suitcase.

"Finally…" he whispered, his breathing still ragged. "It's mine…". Carefully, he unlocked the suitcase and…

*BOOM*

A gun fired, through the man's forehead, and he fell to the ground, dead, with a trickle of his blood running from his head, and a few drops on the suitcase.

Another, more robust figure, who, by the gesture of his hand in his pocket, had been the perpetrator of that cold murder, quickly approached the body. He was wearing thick gloves. He moved the dead's body apart and took the suitcase.

"We have the suitcase" he whispered into the left earpiece. He then left the area but not before cleaning the scene to get out of the way…

A man was sitting in a huge chair while looking outside through the large windows. He wore a black suit that emphasized his body. He was black-haired and dark-eyed, with a small beard. He was serious, maybe a little upset. He repeatedly tapped his shoulder with his fingers. His back was to the rest of the lighted room, in which an atmosphere of filthy joy reigned, for he was not alone: ​​a few men, rough and stout, some near the door, others near him, were playing and amusing themselves with some sluts, money, weapons and jewelry.

The man heard the door being flung open and someone running in. Without turning around, he spoke. "I hope it's good news this time, Gerald…" he said calmly.

"Boss, Morald got the box, I have it here" Gerald replied, more animated.

The boss heard the suitcase being put on the desk. "And I told you that you can call me Wulfric, Gerald… Have a seat" he said as he turned away.

Wulfric saw that man, surprisingly his age, somewhat pale and with brown hair, who was restless in his presence, in his gaze… Gerald took a seat in the big armchair opposite to him. Wulfric's gaze moved from him to the suitcase, and he pulled it closer to him and opened it, noticing the object inside.

"So this is the mask that gives power, isn't it?" Wulfric took the mask and didn't find it all that impressive. Dark green wood, weathered over time, three holes, two for the eyes and one for the mouth, and a long metal bar that ran from the forehead to where the nose would be. The strangest thing, for Wulfric, was the lack of any support to the face.

"Yes, legends and rumors indicate that it is a mask of unknown origins, presumably divine, capable of granting unimaginable powers to whoever wears it," Gerald explained. At this time the men, who were Don Wulfric's bodyguards, had become silent and were paying attention to his boss and the mask.

Wulfric was looking at the object with great interest. He looked at everyone in the room for a moment. "Gerald, stay here, everyone else, get out now."

He had no need to speak aloud. Reluctantly, all the stout men and their female companions left for other rooms. Wulfric sat with the mask in his hands and Gerald was standing there in a cold sweat.

"It doesn't seem to have any way of holding on to a head, but being magical I would assume the mask does it on its own…" Wulfric said. "How do I know it's the real one and not a trick to mislead us? Aren't there fake masks out there cruelly murdering the unwary who put them on?"

"There has been no information regarding any deaths, sir… excuse me, Wulfric." A blush suffused Gerald's cheeks. "But you should be able to see some sparkle behind the mask, only then will you know its authenticity."

Wulfric heeded the words of his subordinate and turned the mask. There seemed to be nothing extraordinary; could it have been a farce? A waste of time? Or even worse... a replica created by one of his inferiors to gain control of the organization?

"I don't see it, Gerald…"

When Wulfric muttered that slowly,Gerald got scared. How was it possible? Wulfric put the mask on the desk, and, despite facing the boss, Gerald could see that glow, green and reddish...

"I-I can see it, s-sir… I mean, Wulfric" he blushed again.

"Really? Well, I guess it's true, because you wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

Gerald swallows hard. "O-of course not, Wulfric."

"But if it is so powerful, how is it possible that it ends up in different hands, as you told me before?" Wulfric thought aloud, "Does it have a price to pay?"

"That's the detail…" Gerald was reluctant to continue, especially because of Wulfric's inquisitive look"The power it confers is given in exchange for unleashing the host's deepest desires, those that the wearer does not usually, or worse, wish to bring to light..."

This took Wulfric by surprise and he eyed the mask suspiciously. The deepest desires? Those that even the wearer does not wish to take out? It was a pretty dangerous business, and he'd already done plenty of them in all the time the organization had been under his command.

Wulfric then looked at Gerald and his blush became more noticeable. Wulfric looked at the mask and smirked.

"Well, I don't think it's appropriate for me to take that risk. My motivations and convictions must be kept hidden for the sake of the organization and our power, you know?"

Gerald returned a confused and astonished look. "So we did all the dirty work for nothing, right?!" he uttered, standing up abruptly. Wulfric raised an eyebrow. Gerald, realizing what he had done, returned to the seat ashamed of himself. " Excuse me…".

"I said: for me to take that risk," Wulfric emphasized. He turned the mask over and, with two fingers, moved it closer to Gerald.

"You won't pretend…?"

"What's the problem?.Are you hiding something from me?" Wulfric asked with a bit of a sneer. "You could have the power, and so I could take a well-deserved vacation, clear my mind of these messes and relax; besides, I trust you enough…"

Gerald didn't know what to think. Did he want to reveal his hidden desires? It wasn't the best idea but… He didn't want to disappoint his boss. He nodded and took the mask. Again he saw that glow, reddish, greenish... A drop of his cold sweat fell on the mask and the glow turned a little orange. He took a deep breath, he wanted to drag it out as long as he could.

''And well? I'm waiting…" whispered Wulfric, who put on his dark glasses and, to Gerald, he looked more intimidating, and more captivating…

Gerald was adjusting his shirt and tie when out of nowhere the mask jumped onto his face as his orifices moved to fit perfectly into Gerald's.

Thanks to @kermit43 for this edited pic.

The contact stung painfully, and Gerald's cries were not enough to give him relief. With his hands, as the mask moved over the skin of his face, he pulled the side edges outward: as he groaned, the mask clung to him, and every inch Gerald stretched out of the wood was another five the mask was gaining ground. The jolts, falls and turns on the ground did not even tickle the mask, which gradually took over.

Gerald got up again: the mask brushed just over his ears, sticking into him like a million pins and spreading hellish magical heat over him. Gerald writhed and groaned and snarled as the areas already covered by the mask mimicked his facial features, and within seconds the orifices in the mask moved in tandem with his eyes and lips, shining through them, and Gerald uselessly he moved his hands all over his head and all over his body.

Wulfric was impressed at what he was seeing. All that power, molding the head of his second in command. If what he had said was true, Wulfric wouldn't get in the way at all, no matter if Gerald even begged. But then, the boss was surprised: those moans and grunts no longer sounded of pain or supplication...

Once the mask was attached to the back of Gerald's head, his hands began to move to specific places: the nipples. As he prodded and fiddled with them, he stuck out his tongue (a trail of saliva dangled from the tip) and rocked his hip back and forth.

"Gerald… Gerald!" Wulfric called getting up from his seat when he noticed this 'strange' behavior. Gerald writhed, and even in the middle of his pants a dark stain formed and, suddenly, a whirlwind of fire surrounded and spun around Gerald, drowning out his moans, drowning out his movements…

As the tornado dissipated, the figure that rose up smiled and, with a sudden movement, pushed the table aside, causing it to crash against the wall.

"He, he, he… I've been wanting this for a long time" the dark, masculine voice that came from the man's lips impressed Wulfric, who stood up wordlessly, gasping for breath. The figure, still smiling, ran towards Wulfric, who couldn't dodge it, spinning him around in a tornado, leaving him bare-chested, confused, and his senses heightened. A reddish scent filled Wulfric's nostrils, influencing his mind, emptying it, changing it... and when the figure touched him, he felt somehow the most graceful being in the world.

The figure took Wulfric to the huge closed windows and stroked his bare chest. "I have a proposal so that I can… help you relax, sir" expressed, and then kiss him with passion on those lips, which Wulfric, without any vestige of clarity, corresponded. And they both cast passion. Sure the organization will be in good and... efficient hands.

[anxiouslyfred]

A Shop of Both

for @dukexietyweek day 1, Tattoo shop

Summary: Virgil needs flowers for a meet up with family and notices the florist he goes to also does tattoos and piercings. He's confused over the safety of that.

/\/\

Virgil had come into the shop for flowers but now all he was registering was 'he has plants through his ear.'

Most people probably wouldn't have focused on that when meeting the shop owner but it was everything that Virgil had the capacity to understand now.

“Welcome to my shop, I'd ask what you're here for, but given your staring, I want to know what;s shocked you about my look today?” The shopkeeper asked after a few minutes of waiting for him to stop staring.

“Is that a real holly branch going through your ear? How is that safe on any level?” Virgil exclaimed, shock colouring his words, just as much as embarrassment as he realised just how he'd reacted in public.

Laughter was his reply, as well as the branch being pulled out to reveal a stretched lobe with a ring stretcher in. “It's female holly, the only spikes on the leaves are at the ends and yeah, it's safe, as much as you might think it's dangerous.”

“Is that how you describe this store, also? Pretty sure combining flowers and pots of mud with things that should be kept sterile like piercings and tattoos is a bad combination.” Virgil asked, looking away from the holly branch now held out to him and around the store now, unable to see any sign of the tattoo studio he knew was included somewhere in the store.

“Guess you're here for flowers then.” The shop keeper grinned, and jumped over the counter he'd been stood behind. “Come and tell me what you need them for. I'm Remus and will not share secrets over my businesses success until at least the first fuck.”

The last sentence made Virgil hesitate, frowning slightly. “Wasn't trying to flirt or get secrets from you, just find out how safe you actually are. You are right though that I'm here for flowers. Been ordered to visit family for lunch and just know if I don't take flowers of some kind the criticism I'm already expecting will be worse.”

“Skip it!” Remus near yelled, but started hurrying off among the rows regardless. “Family shitty enough you expect criticism should never be listened to when asking you to meet them.”

“They really aren't that bad. I'm just pessimistic about well, everything.” Virgil shrugged, “Including the amount of diseases being risked by anyone getting a tattoo from a flower shop.”

Remus laughed at that comment again. “Living is to constantly risk illness, injury and death, why not go to the people open about the chances of it rather than the people who make places so sterile only the worst diseases can remain while all the healthy or helpful bacteria are removed?”

“Just cause an axe throwing place states there's danger does not mean I'd let them make me wait behind the targets while people are throwing axes.” Virgil countered. “Honesty doesn't include safety. What are you even gathering flowers for? I haven't said anything about what I was looking for yet.”

“Haven't even said your name.” Remus grinned as well. “I'm just getting the fucking dull bouquet together. It's the generic shit all relatives can swoon over without worrying that it's not been thought out.”

They carried on walking past the flowers as Remus grabbed a few more type and Virgil tried to remember what the types were. “I'm Virgil and you seriously have a set bouquet for that?”

“You'd be surprised how often people need it. Also Fuck you bouquets, but I think that's because they looked at the website and just wanted to see if that one actually exists.” Remus shrugged, “Besides, I'd assume if you wanted to insult or offend these relatives while still going along with their invite you'd be getting a tattoo at the same time.”

“Would that get me proof that you actually sanitise and keep the area for tattooing and piercing clean?” Virgil blinked after he spoke, wondering why that sounded like he was flirting.

It got him shoulder nudge, “Not sure if you're flirting or turning me down on that offer for fucking.”

“Let's go with the second option.” Virgil nods, lips pressing tightly together to try and suppress whatever reaction he'd have.

“Damn, come back later if you need a tat done. JJ isn't here to cover the store while I tattoo someone currently.” Remus clicked his fingers, shoulders drooping in exaggerated disappointment.

Back at the counter now, Virgil just nodded, letting Remus put together the bouquet while he waiting and fished his wallet out.

“I've added my number to the card so you might want to remove that before any controlling mothers, interfering aunts, nosey uncles and projecting fathers find it.” Remus called after Virgil had paid and was heading out of the store.

His laughter could be heard when Virgil immediately stopped to dig the card out of the flowers and pocket it just outside the shop.

/\/\

This was a bad idea. Honestly, it was also a nice change from all the worries, dangers and concerns over destroying his livelihood that usually flowed through Virgil's mind, but it was still a bad idea.

He'd literally filled 3 A4 pages over all the dangers and concerns he has around getting a tattoo, and still was about to walk back into the florist, piercing and tattoo studio that was 'The Wild Side'.

“Good Afternoon, Welcome to the Wild Side. Which of our services are you here to request?” Someone unknown was sat behind the counter and spoke disinterestedly, only glancing up from their book to Virgil for a second.

“Maybe a tattoo?” Virgil asked, even more uncertain about going through with this thought now Remus wasn't there being whatever level of enthusiastic and teasing he seemed to naturally be.

The person sighed, leaning back from the counter to tap their book against the door. “Someone's thinking about making a horrible decision. Come talk to them.” They called, which had Virgil jolting and putting his hand to the pocket his pages of reasons why he shouldn't do this were stashed. At least, wanting it removed later wasn't actually one of those concerns.

“What type of bad decision can I- VIRGIL!” Remus was cooing as he hurried through the door before bouncing in excitement that definitely wasn't deserved when they'd only met once. “Tattoo or piercing and do you have ideas over what or where?”

Virgil blinked a little, stepping back. “Um – a tattoo, on my neck maybe, since you suggested getting one to annoy my relatives and that'd be visible.”

“You seem nervous about the placement.” Remus stated, but reached out to touch his neck. “You're not one for standing out, are you?”

“Invisibility would be my preferred state 80% of the time. If it weren't for all the smiling, I'd want to be the Cheshire Cat, able to evaporate constantly.” He didn't deny that having a tattoo that's visible had been on his list of reasons not to get one at all.

Remus's hand moved slowly to the front of his shoulder, just beside where a collar might reveal with a couple buttons undone. “How about here then? Close enough that it might be glimpsed but you can easily keep it covered without changing your hoodie for turtle-neck sweaters.”

“Are you going to just stand in the florist section for this consultation or are you actually going to show our customer the studio?” Janus's voice interrupted whatever reply Virgil could have given and thankfully got the hand on him to instead grab his wrist to tug him around the counter and through the door Remus had emerged from.

“Sorry for distracting you from your take down of whichever politician, JJ.” Remus cackled. “Just actually doing my job.”

The door shut but Virgil could swear he heard a comeback about flirting not being part of Remus's job. That seemed like a crazy thought though.

“So about the placement, or whatever you want putting on you? I am an option for things that can go on you.” Remus immediately put doubt to Virgil's doubt about him flirting already pushing him into a seat more likely used when tattooing was in progress than for a normal consultation.

For all the concerns and comments Virgil had made on his first visit to the store the tattoo studio was clearly cleaned and maintained well. The biggest consideration to the store-front was the plants and flowers painted all over the walls and a few small potted plants like aloe vera kept on top of cabinets clearly marked for paperwork.

Focusing back on what had been asked Virgil shrugged a little. “Can it be a frowning vanishing cat? Just- just not the meme one, maybe more like the Cheshire cat original illustrations except frowning? And yeah, there like you suggested.” He tapped where Remus had held his hand too moments before.”

“Still not letting me be on you. A man could be hurt by this rejection but keep doing it. Means you're more comfy around me.” Remus leered a little, grabbing a sketchbook and pushing a chair from a desk over to be next to Virgil.

“Pretty weird that you're set on hooking up with customers at your job. Maybe try inviting me on a date somewhere other than here.” Virgil snarks back, getting the closest he'd dare to outright rejecting or accepting Remus's flirting. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad, but hell, it'd already got him to do something he wouldn't have expected to ever do and that was far less like flirting than Remus had done today.

Remus hummed, pencil moving quickly over the page for a few minutes. “Other than trying to convince JJ to hook up just so I can say I've fucked everywhere I own and failing, you're the only person who've walked in those doors I've flirted with. And they were harsh in their rejection so I spent a month swapping any eggs they brought with spoiled ones since I have keys to their apartment in case of emergencies. Is this a good design for your tat? What colours do you want the cat?”

“Purple and black, do we need to book in a time to do it or-” Virgil's answer for that was easy, using the two colours he was most comfortable wearing.

“I can do it now. No other bookings and JJ knows not to send multiple customers through at once.” Remus span his chair back to the desk grabbing a pot of pencils from one of the drawers. “Pick a purple or two for me to use. I can match the inks we've got to these.”

Virgil looked through the pencils for a moment before deciding Remus wouldn't mention things if he didn't want him to question them. “How harsh would I have to be to face a similar response?”

“Planning your script already?” Remus grinned at him, as if even that could be flirting. “They left me to man both parts of the store alone for a week. Do you how annoying it is to be tattooing someone and have to stop because the bell to the store has gone off? I had to threaten them with letting Picani help out to get them back. Picani is a therapist we know who sometimes asks to use the upstairs space as his office and can't keep any plant alive for a week. Can't remember what they actually said when turning me down, but they have a sharp tongue unless they're trying to charm you so that doesn't matter.”

It was Virgil's turn to smirk, handing his chosen pencils over, “Why would I need a script? I've already told you to ask me on a date at a time neither of us is working that's outside of the store before anything'll happen which you haven't done. Guess you aren't actually into me.”

“This should take until closing time, if you're happy with it.” Remus hummed, scribbling the pencils over his drawing a few times including a black pencil too. “Let's get dinner and I can show you how to look after this after that. Does that cover a date outside of work?”

Virgil froze in the process of taking his hoodie off. “Yup, guess so, and yeah, that looks good.”

“Plus dates get a discount on tattoos.” Remus stated. “So get that t-shirt off and I'll to a test line so you can know how much pain to expect.”

“Sure, I guess.”

[witchthewriter]

Hi there lovely! Here’s my information for the Sons of Anarchy Ship/Match-up

Features: I’m a female, standing at 5’6, I possess long light brown hair with a tint of redness in the sunlight. My hazel eyes change each day from green/brown to brown/gold. I have the sun and moon tattoos on my thighs, a shark up my side torso on my ribs, half an arm sleeve and a neck tattoo revealing my zodiac sign – Gemini (which I often hide) I’m slender with curves.

Hobbies: I am a workaholic; it becomes my hobby at times. I work in the funeral home, removing the deceased from the POD. I enjoy my free time spent with my dogs, my fierce Doberman and my lovable, motivating exercise collie partner. I enjoy reading all things Stephen King and James Patterson and playing any horror related video games. You guessed it, I’m a strong advocate for the horror genre, and Freddy Krueger will always have my heart. I watch SOA and SPN religiously whenever I tilly tally around the house.

Personality: Often seen as an outgoing, happy go lucky, eccentric lady (This is from first judgement from people I know) When really, I’m rather introverted and possess way too dark humour. I collect knives, different types ranging from a replica of the SPN demon blade, to a jungle machete. These are all encases in a glass shelf, only used for display. I love to make others laugh, and I’m incredibly loyal to those I care for. I don’t practice religion (I support others who do) as the only thing I believe in, is the reaper.

Aesthetics: Not sure if this is a term but my house is very much cabin like. Wooden beams, brown features, brown clocks with black accents. I love this kind of theme, heavily decorated with green plants and fish tanks.  

Likes: Lover of being at home, with my man and the dogs. Also a lover of all things spooky. I enjoy long hot showers with my candles lit in the shower itself, It’s so peaceful. I love to read, whether it be books in my hand or online. Sadly, I am a smoker, so my time alone on my patio having a cig is therapeutic to me. I adore time spent with my little family or my close friends whether it be going to the pub for a beer or shopping at Walmart for new bedding 😊 Coffee is my best friend.

Dislikes: My biggest dislike in this world, is seeing animals mistreated. I am that person that buys the near dead betta fish at the pet store and brings it home to treat and watch thrive. I dislike SNAKES. They just scare me, but don’t wish any ill will on them. Hypocrites are my triggers, can’t stand someone who preaches to the choir about wrong doings when they’re actively just as guilty. Own your shit is my motto.             

Brief fun facts about me!

Used to train canines for search work, in areas such as narcotics and explosives. My closest friend is my grandma. I love to wear black. My go to perfume is good girl. I play COD often – I’m competitive in nature. I wear the SONS rings as I got them custom made, and it’s my favourite accessory!

I put way too much into this post, but hopefully it’ll help lots with finding my best ship! Thanks for taking the time to do this 😊  

Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈

You LITERALLY sound like a character from Supernatural?!?! Are you sure you aren't Bobby's long-lost daughter or something?

Also being a canine trainer?! Um... are you the coolest person in the goddamn world? I think so.

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑶𝒑𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏! I think you guys would be such a perfect match. In a way, you remind me of a cool-ass version of Donna? You seem very strong - emotionally, mentally and physically. Opie is a quiet guy, very loyal and genuine. You don't have to worry about him being manipulative or having underlying motives. He practically wears his heart on his sleeve but does his best not to show it.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

・You’d both be very level-headed and know you can trust the other. Opie is incredibly loyal, and if you showed to him the same loyalty, then nothing could come between you. 

・I think Opie would put on a brave face to watch horror movies, and he finds some scenes funny. Although he gets tight-lipped when there’s a lot of gore (feels a bit guilty?)

・He’d actually like one of your favourite horror movies, and love getting themed gifts from you

・Opie would love staying at home with you - you two would move in together and make your home a paradise. You both have a similar aesthetic. Cabin, rustic, and cosy, Opie would absolutely adore your dogs. 

・I think you would fit in with the club very easily. Gemma would be wary of you at first, but realise you aren't someone that's easily pushed around. You would definitely grow on her without realising it.

[clover-46]

Okay. I finished making dinner so I'm back on the wagon.

We coming back strong with Gavin as a tattoo artist.

Gavin who has a slight penchant for dishing out some pain that will lead to a reward. Unsurprisingly, the people who commission him are more than happy to remove articles of clothing while he sits by the chair, preparing the stencil. They try to trick themselves into thinking that he takes glances at them as they do, but usually he's just doing his own thing.

Gavin who does amazing linework and even better coloring. And his customers report near to no pain, although that's all because their too focused on how he pays so much attention to them (a part of them anyways) that they can't think about the pain from the tattoo gun.

Gavin who is getting bored with the daily repetitiveness, and still faces it all headon with a flirtatious smile because it gets him the best tips.

Enter Freelancer, excited for their first tattoo upon leaving their strict family. Damien goes with them to a highly reviewed shop because they're nervous. They walk in to hear pained giggles and maybe they actually don't want this. But then a liquid-golden sensual voice hushes the giggles with a "Try to stay still for me. Don't you want to be good?"

Damien snorts at the obvious emotion 360 Freelancer just went through and nudges them towards the counter before taking a seat. A soft spoken man that practically is radiating calm (Cam) hands them sheets to fill out and sends them off with an encouraging smile.

Gavin's client finishes and he walks her to the front desk to pay and she's shooting her shot and trying to get his number. He only smiles and says "If you want another appointment with me, you know where to find me. I'll be looking forward if you do." He says, head resting briefly on her hair.

Freelancer can't focus on the paperwork, just watching the whole interaction with wide eyes. They watch as he peels off black medical gloves, his sleeves pushed up to reveal his own inked art. He catches them staring and winks, but Freelancer quickly hides behind the clipboard again. They fill out the paperwork and hand it to Cam in the front, who goes over it one more time before nodding.

"Gavin! Are you able to go over design work with a new customer?" Cam calls. Gavin, exits the back from where he was cleaning the tools to cross his arms over his chest and lean against the wall. Freelancer can feel their stomach erupt in butterflies as his eyes drag over them once, twice, three times before smirking.

"Oh it would be my pleasure." Before holding out his hand for them to take. Freelancer does and the whole time is worried if their palm is sweaty or not.

Freelancer who is trying so hard to explain what tattoo they want and they mention its their first, causing Gavin to grin at them as he sets his tablet on his lap and leans closer.

"I get to be your first then. I'll make sure to make it good for you." And he knows it's a cheesy line, but it still gets Freelancer to squeak and that's all that really matters before he backpedals. "Your first tattoo should look good of course."

Freelancer who leaves the first appointment with the next already scheduled, their stomach all jittery. Gavin who thinks he might have just had a renewed passion for his craft.

When their next appointment comes and the design is finalized, Freelancer is fidgeting in the seat as Gavin places the tools down on his tray. Gavin who sees they're nervous so he quietly explains what every tool does and how much it might hurt.

Gavin who lets Freelancer hold his hand, even though it makes his job more difficult. Gavin who takes as many breaks as they need, not growing annoyed.

Gavin who murmurs bits of praise as Freelancer stays still and isn't too loud. "You're being so good for me.", "We're almost done with this section." "I'm so proud of you, Freelancer."

It takes more than one appointment until the project is finished and Freelancer is struggling to find a design they would want so they can spend more time with Gavin. Gavin who isn't oblivious to the way that Freelancer's brow furrows and lips purse. At the end of the final appointment, as much as Freelancer wishes to continue sharing time with Gavin, they don't want to be like that woman who they saw on their first day here.

So they profusely thank him, give him a wondrous tip and leave the shop.

A "Deviant! Wait!" stops them and they turn to look at Gavin who rushed after them. "Are you going to ask me for my number?"

"Would you give me your number not out of obligation?"

"Only out of obligation to the feeling that I want to get to know you better. So may I have the pleasure of giving you my digits?" And he grins as their eyes widen. He knows how else his words can be taken. They aren't the only thing that can be, as he later finds out.

- 🙊

OHHHHHHHHHH MY GOD. dude if it was me my hands would definitely be sweating. DAMIEN COMING WITH THEM WAS SWEET LOVE HIM.

i was giggling and kicking my feet reading this part omg

IWIDKAKDKDKCMFKVL28;8-@;@(@!!!!!! god i love him

@messenger-of-stupidity

[wabisabireiki]

The scorpion and the moon

Dearest, I signed up for a Friday the 13th (9/13/24-flash sale tattoo with my regular artist). Felt around on their flash for what sang to me and there was a little scorpion holding a crescent moon and star. My mom is a Scorpio and I've been trying in my own ways to smooth over the challenging aspects of our relating that has gotten courser over the years through my healing process ( and no doubt her unspoken gilt and shame). He, my artist booked me out a few days after the 13th and it fell on the day before the full moon. The timing was perfect though not on the 13th. I was his last appointment for the day and we spent my session catching up and talking about Preacher ( the show), mutual acquaintances, life, movies etc.

About a week before that I had listened to the diary of a ceo podcast with Andrew Huberman, and in it Andrew talked about how much relationships were such a big part of his life. In the talk he says he texts certain people ( not family) every morning. And that those morning texts between he and his friends are such important aspects of his life. IMO: Connection is becoming harder to navigate in this modern world because it is full of false alarm distractions/ exploitations. I have since started to text my mom every morning. Just a "Have a good day, or hi, hello", etc. I noticed she always responds in a way that I sense makes her feel cared for. I'd been sharing with her a lot about my Jung animus studies when I see her, which has also been with more consistency as of late.

A few years ago when my mom went on a short stint of leaving her Christianity to discover new age spirituality, she got her reiki certification and had begun to search outside of a religion. One time we went to a metaphysical shop and we both got tarot readings from a gifted psychic. When it came time to get my reading the psychic asked my mom to give us some privacy. She then relayed to me in a question, that there was something in the relationship with my mother that had greatly affected me and was more or less containing/ holding me back? I had never considered this before. I was blindsided and confused. Over the next couple of years I would delve deep into my unconscious ( Scorpio territory) and I would see, especially recently that I inherited so much from my mother's unconscious ( NO DIVING, as the sign says). As I continue to excavate the depths, what I see specifically now in this timing is how much my thoughts, feelings, sensations, and emotions were just copied and pasted over to my blueprint. Once you see it, you SEE IT.

This full moon eclipse for me is the culmination of all I have seen and felt that is not mine. There is a lot to leave behind ( not in abandonment) but in recognition that it is not mine. It is not me and I don't need to do something with it ( like remove it, fight it, condemn it). I find it hysterical that I took this pic to show someone my tattoo and it had the 'no diving 'sign in the background bc I was reading by the pool. It brings me back to so many childhood memories of growing up in El Paso near the mountains and all the run- ins I'd had with scorpions. 🦂 Never did get stung, but specifically one memory we went swimming at a family friend's and there was an alive scorpion just chilling at the bottom of the pool! They are always diving!

The great reckoning is going "OH! This beautiful substance ( in my metaphor a scorpion) that is within the scorpionic symbol- is indeed poison in one state and especially when it is retaliatory. It's other function(s) is/are heavy ( dangerous, of great pressure) exploration, adaptability, deep knowing, courage, power, resiliency and of course transformation."

A medicine. A magical alchemical process.

I find when my mom and I get together I am telling her a lot about the animus lately ( very virgo/ pisces axis) I see her intrigued and guarded.

This little tattoo is literally a symbol that I hold the rights to my self empowerment, which I am ironically just realizing that is what most of my tattoo's symbolize. It's still pleasing to me to think, "remember that one time I had no idea I was letting all of these attachments run my unconscious beliefs?!".

And how just this year an intentional mastery of said thoughts, feeling sensations, and emotions would be my focus.

CHEERS to all the scorpions out there, you continue to be one of my most beloved teachers and guides. And my South node in ♏️ 🥂