can y'all please come into my humble abode and imagine something with me i don't yet have the wits to write a full fledged fic out of (yet)?
so, everyone knows how when you get a tattoo, part of the healing process is the itchy phase, right? and for obvious reasons, you can't scratch it. favored method, in my experience and fellow tatted friends, is to just give it a good old slap.
perfect. so now, with this in mind, can you imagine having gotten a large hip/ass piece, and how mortifying it would be to smack your own ass to soothe that itch? and it's just plain painful. you want your new ink to heal properly - it's gorgeous and you put a lot of time, pain, and money into that damn thing - but it just sucks.
enter best friend eddie.
he loves your new ink. thinks it's fucking sick. nearly creamed his damn pants when he found out you were doing a hip/ass tatt (because how can he ask to see it without being weird? how can he react to that without being weird when he's spent the last several years with the world's most pathetic crush on you?) at first, it's fine. you show him the tattoo in a totally friendly, totally platonic way. he hypes you up, he calls you 'the most metal person he knows'. flourishes you with all the compliments and looks at you with starry eyes out of sheer awe at the way he's managed to snag a person into his life who is just so. damn. cool.
but the days pass by, that new ink begins to heal, and it fucking itches.
when you first proposition him, you're even more embarrassed than he is. stumbling over all your words, the request coming out contorted every wrong way. you don't want to make things weird, but is it really that weird for a friend to help a friend? it is really that weird to ask your best friend to smack your tattoo to help with that itch you can't even really properly reach?
it's just friends helping friends.
and that's the mantra you both repeat to yourselves - as you request the embarrassing favor of him, as he agrees almost too eagerly, as you find yourself face-planted in your bed wondering how deeply you can bury down your shame as he tries to make jokes to make it all a bit less awkward.
it's just friends helping friends, until eddie's hand lands down on your ass with a resounding smack, and that first little whimper escapes your lips.
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So. Guess who commissioned the amazing @shukruut to do up late teens/early twenties Ylliben (time-traveler Obi-Wan) in A Child’s Ink? Specifically, with most of the tattoos he gains across the course of that fic.
Our boy is mid-workout and there are some very flustered Fellow Teens that he is either ignoring or genuinely does not notice.
(I say 'most' because there are a few I still haven't decided on for chapter three, and thus could not direct the placement or design of. I'll figure those out uhhhh eventually. At least two of them are probably on his legs anyway, so I'll just imagine that's what's going on, and you will presumably forgive me for being bad at Decisions if one of them doesn't quite match up with the art lmao.)
Some of these aren't definitive and if you want to imagine it differently, that's great! I definitely kept a few of them vague enough for reinterp! For me, half the point of this commission was to get an idea what was even going on so I could keep track of where he still had room for another tat in the years to come.
Flats under the cut! Plus, you can open the image in a new tab for Much Details.
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decided to wear a pair of loafers to the office today and every time I see them in my closet I'm like oh these are cute why don't I ever wear these? and every fucking time I forget that the buckles on them jingle every single time I take a step so it sounds like a little elf is wandering around.
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My toxic trait is when I try to take a picture of my body and I don't like my face in it, I will simply photoshop a possum face over my face instead of just retaking it 🫶🏻
(The photo in question)
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tonight i'm just picturing byan after this manic sort of art binge... hair a mess, mostly fallen out of their ponytail, and they're just covered in paint and ink and glitter... it's all over their hands and arms and their shirt and they've even rubbed some across their face... there's glitter in their hair and they're missing a sock somehow and they can't tell you how many hours have passed...
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