#but I’m no tattoo artist so it’s eh

[timethehobo]

Saw more photo inspo and just had to. Tattoo Emmy tho… 😌

[persephone411]

Under the skin (JT x Reader)

Summary: you get your first tattoo from a very attractive tattoo artist

You took a deep breath before you opened the door to Teller Morrow. This was it. You we’re actually going to get your first tattoo. An exited giggle escaped you. During the whole time between the making of the appointment till today you had expected of you to drop out and cancel. But now you were here. With slightly shaking legs you enter the tattoo studio. It was kept in the industrial style with a dark wood floor and exposed brick walls. Dozens of sketches and pictures of finished tattoos cover the walls. A black leather couch was to your left.

“Hey. I’m Gemma. how can I help you?” A brown haired woman behind counter asked you with a polite smile.

“Uhm hi. I am here for my appointment. It’s at half past one” you nearly stammer. The woman nods and checks her computer.

“Yeah, you send your design in a mail, your first tattoo right ?”

“Yes, how do you know?” You asked surprised but Gemma only laughed

“Sweetheart, only first time clients are so nervous, plus you also wrote it in the mail”

“Oh yeah right” you say while laughing akwardly.

“Hey, everything is fine. What will happen now is that I’ll print out the design you send a few times in a few sizes and you can see which one you like the best ok?”

“Yes, thank you. I guess I’m just excited ” you smile while the printer works.

“And that’s totally normal. A tattoo is a big thing, but I assure you after you get your first, you will get more. It’s always like that”

Gemma says while cutting out the design.

“Alright, I printed out three different sizes. You can always say If I should print out more. The placement was the hip ?”

“Yes” you answer and carefully take the smallest of the pieces. Quickly you noticed that the moment you held it in your hand, you fell even more in love with the design and the idea of having it as a tattoo. After a bit you chose the middle size. Not too big, not too small.

“Alright perfect. It’s a really beautiful design. I’m sure it will look amazing on you sweetheart” Gemma says with a motherly smile.

You smiled and she nodded at the leather couch

“How about you take a seat. I’ll bring you some water, hydration is important. My son should be done in a few minutes”

“Your son?” You ask interested and Gemma nods

“Yes, it’s a family business. Here”

She gave you a glass of water, then sat down next to you.

The next minutes you spend taking. You told her the story behind your tattoo idea and she shared her tattoo stories plus the history of the studio. Just as you were about to compliment one of her tattoos on her arm, someone new stepped into the room.

“Alright, We are done”

You turned your head towards the new voice and your eyes widened.

Fuck he was gorgeous

Long blond hair, blue eyes and a blonde beard. He wore white trainers, baggy jeans and a white oversize T shirt. Tattoos were covering his arms. You were so struck that you didn’t even notice the other man, probably his previous client standing next to him

“Ah, perfect, your next customer is already here”

Gemma stood up and you followed.

“This is my son, he will be doing your tattoo” she introduced him and he shook your hand

“Hey, I’m Jax” he said with a mischievous wink.

You introduced yourself and Jax smirked

“Alright, then follow me, you got your design?”

“Yes” you showed him the piece of paper.

Shortly before Jax guided you into the separate room, Gemma called him back

“Be gentle with her, it’s her first time”

Jax nods understandingly

“I’m always gentle at the first time” he said and you blushed at the innuendo.

Then he walks to you into the tattoo room.

“Alright darling, first time eh?” While he spoke he started to stretch himself.

“Excuse me. I’ve worked on that one piece for hours now you can probably imagine what my back feels like after being in one position for so long“

He groaned and a hot shiver rand down your spine.

“No I get it. Don’t worry” you assure him quickly.

He nods but then gets serious.

“Alright princess, where should the tattoo go?” While he spoke his gaze slowly wandered over your body and another shudder went through you. Why did he have to be so attractive?

“I thought about the left hip bone” you tell him and he nods.

“It’s a good spot. Sexy”

You smiled and Jax walked over to his desk to prepare the stencil.

“So, how long have you been doing this?” You ask him

“Now around 14 years i think. I started by doing my first stick and poke on my own leg. I was just a rebellious teen. You know the drill. Then I started to design my own stuff out of boredom. I grew up with this whole tattoo culture. I mean you’ve seen my mom’s tattoos and everything. So when I was 20 I leaned it professionally and we opened up the shop”

While he talked you listened attentively. You loved the way he talked. While staring at his back you notice a few darker spots under the white of the shirt.

“Do you have a back tattoo?” You asked curiously and he nodded.

“Yeah, got it when I was done with the training. It took multiple sessions, still remember the pain. I’ll show it to you once I am done with your stencil”.

He worked for a minute or so in comfortable silence, then he got up.

“This is the stencil, and this is my back piece”

Your eyes widened as he started to strip out of his shirt.

“Wow, that is impressive” you said as you saw the huge sons of anarchy tattoo on his back.

“Yeah, it also hurt as hell go get it. The spine was the worst. You can touch it if you want to. No need to be shy”

He said.

Hesitantly you reached out to touch the ink on his back, tracing the letters.

“That’s insane” you murmur and quickly pull back as a shudder goes through Jax

“It’s fine. Just a bit sensitive on the back”

He explained while turning around to face you. Again your eyes widened. This time because of his naked torso. It was perfection. Although you’ve never seen an actual naked Greek god, you were sure that they looked like Jax Teller.

“You like what you see?“

Jax chuckled as you blushed and started to stammer while avoiding his gaze.

,,It’s fine. I’m just teasing” He said with a playful wink. You nodded and watched as he grabbed his shirt. Quickly he pulled it over his head, then he grabbed the stencil for your tattoo.

“So, where should it go?” He asked and you pulled your shirt up and your pants down slightly to show him the spot you chose. Just on the hipbone. Perfectly hidden from everyone except for the people who you wanted to see it. Jax nods, then without a warning gets down on his knees in front of you. Carefully he presses the stencil against your skin, holding it for a bit and then peeling it off.

“Is this ok? There is a mirror. If it is too high, too low or anything, just tell me. I can do it again”

You nod and walk over to the huge mirror. Eying the blue mark on your left hip. Behind you Jax was still on his knees, watching you.

“Maybe a bit higher” you said and he nods, getting up to get some wet wipes.

Carefully he wiped the blue ink off the stencil off your skin.

Goosebumps form on your body as you feel his breath on your naked skin, tickling you slightly. Jax places the stencil again, this time slightly higher. You watch as he bit his lip in concentration.

“How about now?” He asked and you walk back to the mirror.

“Can you do it a bit more right?” You asked hesitantly.

“Sure” again he wiped off the old stencil and placed it a bit more right. You checked it out again and nod with a happy smile.

“Perfect”

“That’s what I want to hear. You can then lay down on the table and I’ll prepare everything” Jax instructed you.

You did as he told you and watched as he prepared the ink and the tattoo machine. Then he grabbed a black hair tie and pulled his hair into a small bun.

Fuck he was even more attractive now.

With his stool he rolled over to you and watched as you exposed your hip area again.

“I’ll start now and if anything feels wrong, You tell me. We can pause it anytime ok?”

He told you, his voice serious.

You nod and laid down comfortably, focusing on your breath.

Again you couldn’t really belive it, you were actually getting a tattoo !

You felt his gloved Hand on your hip, then he started. It was less painful than you thought it would be. Mostly just a bit of a tickle with a slight burn from time to time.

“How are you doing?”

He asked after a bit, his hand absentmindedly caressing your skin

“Good so far, it’s not as bad as I thought It would be” you murmur while staring at the ceiling.

“Good. If anything happens, tell me”

You nod and he started again.

It was a nearly relaxing process. The buzzing sound of the machine, the tickling on your hip and the quiet rock music in the background. But your favorite feeling by far was his hand on your skin. Although he wore a glove you could feel his warmth, and sometimes his cool breath.

“You mentioned that your first tattoo was a stick and poke on your leg?” You asked after a bit and he hummed.

“Yes, I was 16 and my best friend and me thought it was a cool idea. I tried to do the Harley Davidson logo. But it looked rather bad. Couldn’t get one line straight”

He chuckled and shook his head. You watched him silently. A strand of blonde hair had fallen out his bun ad he bit his lower lip in concentration. As he reached a new spot you nearly flinched. It was much more painful than the rest.

“Shh. It’s alright. We’re over the hip bone now. The skin is thinner” Jax explained and stopped for a bit

“And here I was, nearly falling asleep” you joked. He chuckled and pushed the strand out of his face

“Tell me when I can start again. Did you eat or drink before coming here?”

“Yeah, I had breakfast” you answered. As you two talked you couldn’t help but love how calm and relaxed everything was. Jax really made sure that you were feeling comfortable and for a bit you wondered how it would be to be friends with him, or maybe even to be more. Just as you dreamt about snuggling in his arms on a couch in front of a TV, Jax spoke again.

“Is everything alright ? You seem a bit lost in your head” his blue eyes watched you attentively.

“Yeah, you can start again” you nod towards the tattoo machine in his hand.

He nodded and continued to tattoo you.

“We’re now halfway done” he informed you after a bit.

“What are some of the craziest tattoos you’ve ever done?” You asked.

He thought for a moment then answered: ”I think I have a few specials. Sentimental, funny or plain stupid. But no bad tattoos. I don’t do bad tattoos”

You giggled at his cocky tone.

“Someone’s confident”

He laughed and you nearly melted. It was nearly criminal for someone to be that attractive.

“So? What tattoos did you do?”

“Hmm let’s see. I did my first real one on my best friend, that was quite special. Once time I tattooed a couple which was married for nearly 70 years. That was probably the one time where couple tattoos aren’t stupid. I have lots of sentimental tattoos, like pets who died or the names of children. In regard to funny tattoos… A girl once wanted me to tattoo her vagina. She made sure to ask for me specifically“

“And ? Did you do it?” You asked curiously but Jax only smirked

“What do you think?”

Your eyes widened and he chuckled.

The next minutes was a comfortable silence between you two. Although you had so many questions for him (like what is the favourite tattoo you ever did? Are you single? Can we get married ?) you didn’t say anything. After a bit he broke the silence.

“I’m nearly done sweetheart”

You bit your lip in disappointment. You didn’t want him to be done. To be honest, you would love to fall asleep right here, with his big warm hands on your skin and the quiet buzzing of the machine.

“Do you have a website or a portfolio?” You ask Jax, curious about his work. His own work.

“Yeah. I have a folder and also a instagram page If you are interested. Oh and you can also DM me anytime if you think about getting a touch up or other tattoo related stuff”

“Yeah, that would be great” you smiled, already excited to stalk his social media.

The tattoo machine stopped and you sat up slowly.

“Careful, you could feel a bit dizzy from lying down for so long“ Jax gently grabbed your arm and you blinked a few times.

“I think I’m good. Thank you” you smiled and slid off the tattoo table. Jax was still holding you as you walked over to the big mirror to inspect your tattoo. It looked even more perfect than you expected it to be. The shading was perfect.

“Wow” you say quietly.

“You like it?” Jax was towering behind you, a smile on his face.

“Yeah, it’s absolutely amazing. I love it. Thank you so much”

“I’m glad to hear it” you shivered at the slight purr in his voice.

The next minutes Jax put the second skin onto your fresh tattoo and explained the aftercare to you. Like mesmerised you listened to his voice, barely acknowledging what he said.

“Good. I think we’re done. It was an honor to be your first time and I hope I’ll get to tattoo you again”

Jax smiled and loosely wrapped an arm around you while he led you out of the room.

“And? How did it went?” Gemma asked as soon as you entered the main room of the studio.

“It went well and the tattoo truly looks amazing” you said while beaming. Jax chuckled, visibly proud of himself. You showed Gemma the tattoo and she nodded.

“Good work there son. I hope you treated her like a lady”

“I did. Don’t worry”

The payment process was quick and simple and you thanked Jax again.

“No problem sweetheart. It was a pleasure and hey, maybe we’ll see each again”

You smiled and waved him and Gemma Goodbye.

On your way to the car you opened instagram and found the sons of Anarchy account as well as Jax personal account. The moment you saw the first of his own tattoo designs (and a shirtless picture) you knew you would come back.

[morganski-19]

The One Where It All Started

This takes place about a year before the rest of the posts will be taking place. Just to set the stage before the real schnenanigans start.

“So I said that was a terrible idea, because there was barely any research done so it would be misleading to the readers, right,” Nancy continued her story about the piece she’s been working on at work.

“Yeah, that would make me pissed,” Robin added, following along.

Nancy nods in agreement as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Exactly. I would rather print nothing than something they made up. But of course, the boss doesn’t think so. I’m thinking of dropping the project, so my name isn’t attached to it, but then that just means I ‘didn’t have faith in the work’. No shit I don’t, it’s completely fake.”

“Fuck those guys,” Steve adds, partially listening as he’s grading his student’s assignments.

Jonathan and Argyle walk into the café, finding the group at their normal seats and joining them.

“My dudes,” Argyle bellows. “How’s it going?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Nancy groans.

Jonathan winces. “Those assholes at work again?”

“Yes,” Nancy exclaims. “I need to find another job but this is the best I could get after school.”

“Could be worse,” Robin adds.

“I know, I just hate working there.”

Steve stares at the paper in front of him with a confused expression. “What do you guys think of this one?”

He turns the paper around to reveal a hand turkey covered with red drops resembling blood. What would normally be the feathers are now plucked off and surrounding the turkey leaving the pink underneath. Or at least that’s what it looks like. It could just be pink feathers and a turkey standing on a pile of leaves. But that wouldn’t explain the X’s for eyes.

“Are you seriously grading hand turkeys right now?” Robin rolls her eyes. “And you think your job is hard.”

“Try to teach a bunch of first graders basic math after they’re all hyper from recess and then get back to me. And it’s not just hand turkeys. There’s also spelling tests somewhere in here.”

Jonathan takes the paper from Steve’s hand, showing it to Argyle better with a very concerned glare. “I think you might need to talk to this kid.”

“He drew a murdered turkey, dude. Kid’s got issues.”

Steve takes the picture back, assessing it more. “I mean, those could be leaves.”

Robin points to the picture. “And that’s not blood.”

“Yeah, I need to talk to the kid.” Steve turns it over and sees the name. “Wait, this is Bobby’s. His parents hunt wild turkeys. That’s normal.”

A man with long, brown curly hair approaches the group, wearing a leather jacket with a band tee and black jeans. “Sorry to interrupt but, Wheeler?” He turns toward Nancy, pointing softly at her.

“Oh my god, Eddie?” Nancy smiles standing up to give him a hug. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since high school.”

“Eh, it’s been better. But you, I saw the article you did last month. Best thing I ever read in the news.” Eddie sits down on the chair across from Nancy.

Steve is trying his hardest not to stare and keep grading his stack of papers, but it’s hard. Robin elbows him in the side and widens her eyes in a “Really?”. Steve shrugs in his defense, taking a sip of his mocha. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Aw, thank you. I worked hard on that. What are you up to now?”

“Kinda between jobs at the moment. I work as a freelance artist but I’m taking a break from that becoming a tattoo apprentice.”

“That is so cool, dude,” Argyle interrupts from across the table.

Nancy has a moment of realization. “Right. Eddie, these are my friends. Robin, Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle. Guys, this is my old friend from high school, Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you guys.”

The group replies with varied greetings, Steve and Eddie holding eye contact a bit longer than the rest of the group does. Resulting with another jab in Steve’s ribs from Robin. He yells at her with his eyes for her to stop.

“So, do you live in the city now?” Nancy goes back to addressing just Eddie.

He scratches at his chin with a pained faced. “Kinda. Moved here to live with my ex a few months ago. And then he sort of cheated on me, so I’m trying to find somewhere else, but money’s kind of tight right now.”

“Ugh, that sucks,” Nancy winces. “I’m sorry.”

“Is what it is.”

Nancy turns to Robin, whispering something in her ear. Robin shrugs and whispers something back.

“You know, if you wanted to, no pressure or anything,” Nancy starts. “But, my old roommate just moved out and I’m looking for a new one. It’s a nice place my grandma rents to me so it’s rent controlled. I know we haven’t talked much since high school, but it’s yours if you want it.”

“Have to think about it, and see the place. But that might be nice.”

“And you’d live across from me and Steve,” Robin adds, earning her an elbow to the ribs.

Eddie smiles flirtatiously. “Well that does sweeten the pot.” He notices the hand turkey still laying on the table. “What the fuck is wrong with that hand turkey?”

“I already said I would talk to the kid,” Steve groans.

“Why is this is this kid going on turkey hunting trips anyway,” Jonathan asks, concerned.

Steve shrugs. “How would I know, not my kid.”

Argyle reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a joint, handing it to Steve. “For your troubles.”

“This group is great,” Eddie laughs to himself, already agreeing to Nancy’s offer in his head.

General information about the fic here

Tag list (just tagged everyone who seemed interested, let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417

[asmileforyourscrapbooks]

It's the summer of 2001.

Joe meets Patrick and he’s like, “Yo! i know about music.” and Patrick’s like, “Yo! I know more about music~!” “THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!!!!!111 ...Do you wanna start a band?” and Patrick’s like, “Yeah, that’s cool” and then he’s like, “Yo! this is a bookstore, it’s not a music store!” And then they met at Patrick’s house. so, Patrick’s wearing shorts and socks and a hat. Patrick is playing drums for some fuckin’ reason. and Pete’s there for some reason. they start playing music together and they’re like, “oh, let’s play some fucking covers from some other bands!” there was like Green Day, and fucking Misfits, and fuckin Ramones. Pete said to Joe, “Yo! We gotta change this shit up!” — HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH — *sips beer* — “Yo, we played all these bands, let’s play shit from Fall Out Boy” and so Pete and Patrick were like, “Yo, that’s dope. but we need a fucking drummer!” because Patrick’s playing drums and he’s a singer! Patrick’s like, “Yo! I got a soul voice!” and they’re like, “wait! how do you have a soul voice?” and he’s like, “Yo, watch this – YEAAAAAYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAEEEEEEEHEEEEEYEEEEHEEEEHHH” and they’re like, “ Oh my God, that sounds like soul!” so they put it in a song, it was like, “WHERE IS YOUR BOY TONIIIIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHTTTTTTT” — THHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH — and then they’re like, “Yo, that’s fuckin perfect. this is fall out boy” — *drinks beer* —

And they made records like ‘Evening out with your ex-girlfriend’ Evening out with your ex-girlfriend everybody loves it — “It’s called evening out with your girlfriend” — With your ex-girlfriend? It’s called evening out with your ex-girlfriend. It’s called eating out your girlfriend and it’s real and it doesn’t matter.

And Pete talked to Patrick and Joe and he was like, “yooo, what the fuuuuuck!!?? YO THIS IS GONNA BE FUCKIN DOOOPE” so they made a record and it was called ‘Take This to Your Grave’. They made it without a drummer! and they had like three, four drummers come in; the four drummers ahead come in were like Josh Freese, Neil Peart, the dude from Toto — tnghhhh — the fourth one was like the guy from like Papa Roach or something. And they’re like, “Yo, we need Andy Hurley.” “Andy Hurley, Take This To Your Grave, fuckin record it.” And he did it and he killed it and he was like, “BEGEDEGEDUGUDLULULUHHHLAHLAH BSHHH” Killin the skins! Tappin the skins! Tappin the rim! Playing the shit! Killin these bitches! Wrappin it out! — THAHAHA YOU’RE GETTING A FUCKING TATTOO RIGHT NOW!! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING OON!!?? —

“We should get signed to Fueled By Ramen, cuz these guys know what the fuck is going on” they were like, “yo, if you can make our scene any bigger than it is which is not fucking hard -” — tnghhh — “- we will sign you guys” he was like, “yo! we got this record that’s fuckin dope dude!” it’s called Take This To Your Grave. It’s called From Under The Cork Tree, it’s gonna be fucking huge. And then Patrick was like, “I gotta keep it real. I gotta keep it artistic. These are - These are three songs that are gonna make the album it’s called — *burp* — this is called Thnks Fr Th Mmrs, Twenty Dollar Nosebleed, and Sugar, We’re Goin Down. And they made this record that was fuckin dope and they fucking hit on the charts like ONE, TWO, THREE! THREE, TWO, ONE! THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEEENNN! TEN TO ONE! From Under The Cork Tree sold like four million records… ten million records… FIFTEEN MILLION RECORDS!

And Brendon Urie had nothing to do with the entire record! And Patrick was like, “THAT’S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDD”

Pete was like, “Yo, fuck you! I can do whatever I want!” Joe was like, “Yeah, that’s cool man whatever I don’t give a shit” and then Andy was like, “Eh. Cool!” and Pete was like, “Makeup is fuckin great for a guy because it makes a guy look beautiful which a lot of times a guy is not beautiful and i wanna change that. I wanna make sure that everybody thinks that guys are beautiful”

— SPIT. SPIT. SPIT. “I’m good so far” “Do you wanna spit one more time?” “Yeah, I do.” SPIT. SPIT. SPIT. NGHHH SHUT THE FUCK! HAHAHA OH FUCK ALRIGHT ALRIGHT —

Pete was like, “Oh my god! I’m so embarrassed about this dick pic!” and then I saw the dick pic and I was like, “Eh, it’s not bad! It’s not a bad dick. Let’s be real.”

We made Rolling Stone one issue before Fall Out Boy and Fall Out Boy made the issue right after us and they were so PISSED! they were like, “yo, fuck you guys!” They’re like, “YO PANIC! HAS THE FUCKING COVER OF ROLLING STONE!? YO FUCK THESE DUDES WE’RE GONNA FUCKING GO MILES ABOVE! WE’RE GONNA HIT EVERY FUCKING CONTINENT THERE IS KNOWN TO MAN!” but they didn’t! because they missed a second of time! Apparently, they were like, “Oh shit we got every continent!” When they didn’t actually hit it.

Dude, Pete was like, “WHAT THE FUCK!?!?” OOOOH YOU DIDN’T FUCKIN MAKE THE CONTINENT! IT’S LIKE FUCK YOU!

So From Under The Cork Tree happens we fuckin have three four years of awesomeness like people were coming on themselves cuz it’s so big.

Alright, so Fall Out Boy was like —

So Patrick was like, “Yo we’re gonna name this record From ooo - From Under The Cork Tree and from Inninity from EHEHAHA From Infinity on High.

Pete was like, "Yo, Folie A Deux means the theatric of two” — “The Madness of Two” “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” —

Fall Out Boy was like, “Yo, we gotta take a break” meaning Pete was like, “Yo, we gotta take a break bro” and Patrick’s like “I need time for my music - OOOOUUNGHHH” and Joe’s like, “Yo, I need time to find the fuckin art dude i gotta find some fuckin muh-metal” and andy’s like, “I’m just gonna play with some fuckin metal bands :D” and they’re like, “Alright, this break’s from like three years long two years long three years long three and a half?” “we gotta fuckin come back man we gotta come back STRONG”

— YOU TOOK MY BEER AWAY WHAT THE FUCK “you poured it all over yourself” —

“We gotta make this shit legit, it’s gonna be fuckin dope it’s gonna go fuckin sky high! we’re gonna make a fuckin record that sails the skies!” “skieees” “we’re gonna call this record: Save Rock and Roll”

So they made Alone Together, Light Em Up, Alone Together, The Phoenix. Everyone was like, “What the fuuuck?? you were going to the sky you fucking recorded Avril Lavigne and P!nk!” — “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS ON MY SHIRT DID I PEE ON MYSELF?” “You poured beer all over yourself” “oh god” —

Pete was like, “Yo, we’re gonna end up on a tour with Panic! At The Disco and Twenty Pilots” TAHAHA *burp. spit.*

And that’s all. And that’s all that matters. and that’s just how the fuckin story goes.

[lvgrrqs]

LIGHT STING — E. WILLIAMS.

summary. ellie williams with an s/o who’s getting a tattoo for the first time!

no warnings besides some slight cursing and maybe incorrect performance on giving a tattoo.

note. i’ve gotten to see two concerts back to back and i’m so happy about that :) just in a good mood because of it so i’m trying to write better things besides that mini series i pulled from my ass.

word count. 815

ellie williams. who holds your hand as you enter the quaint tattoo shop together. she’s sure to be by your side even when you were first planning on getting your own tattoo.

“how did it feel when you got yours?” you asked as she held the door open for you with her free hand, allowing you inside first. “eh, just a light sting.” she hummed in response. but she knew that everyone’s pain tolerance was different, and knowing you, you wouldn’t just feel a ‘light sting’ as she had. “i’ll be there to watch you and possibly hold your hand if you need it. worst case, you’ll get a stress ball or pass o-“ she stopped her words at your face, nervously laughing off how fast your head had spun to look at her. “pass what now!?”

ellie williams. who borderline had to bribe you back into your own idea of getting a tattoo with your favorite lollipop and a frown on her face.

yeah, it probably wasn’t the best thing that she let that part slip, but she was able to successfully get you from walking outside of that tattoo shop. “i’m sorry sweet thing, that’s on me. but you got this, i know you do.” she attempted to cheer your spirit, which she did with no effort as a smile lifted upon your lips. “thanks els, but do you think i could actually get that stress ball?”

ellie williams. who sat nearby as the tattoo artist kindly complimented the stress ball you currently had in your hands, thankful that they were so kind and understanding about your first experience with something like this.

“now, you ready?” the artist sat down next to you, materials on a table next to her as your stencil had already been placed down onto your arm. “yeah, i really like the placement.” ellie’s eyes followed your gaze down to where your forearm was, a small collection of butterfly’s in a morphed, twisted design sat inches above your wrist. the design was a mock of her tattoos, which you admired heavily. “it’s a nice design, matches your girlfriends.”

ellie williams. who’s asked to sit out because of how watchful she’s being over you.

oh where did it go wrong.

“i understand you’re looking out for them, but you can’t stand there and tell me how to do my job.” you looked back and forth between ellie and the tattoo artist, both facing off as you sat back in the chair, stressball still in hand. “well you’re obviously hurting them! you don’t see how they’re jumping?” “els, im fine. it’s a tattoo, i’ll be okay.” “i’ve been around tattoos for a long time, okay? i know how people act and why.”

“if you knew as much as you claimed, you would be giving the tattoo.” the artist sighed, looking at you. “i’m going to have to ask her to leave, but i doubt she’s going to listen to me.” with an understanding look, you got up as ellie started rambling on about ‘how can you talk to them like i’m not standing right here??’

briefly, you led ellie back to the front of the building and sat her down. mumbling, she looked up at you and then at the unfinished tattoo. “you sure you’re okay? it’s your first tattoo, i know i freaked you out earlier-“ “i’m fine, it’s like you said. feels like a light sting, i’ll probably feel it later though.” with a relieved sigh, she finally sat back without a problem and let you go back to the back to finish the task at hand.

ellie williams. who finally sees your finished tattoo a while later.

she’s absolutely grinning like an idiot when she sees your smile and the pep in your step and you approach her. your arm is extended out to show the tattoo off to her, and anyone else who happens to pass out. “look! oh my god, it’s perfect.” you swoon out, meeting ellie’s gaze. “it is perfect, i really like seeing you excited like this.” “we should go get more sometime soon.” you practically demanded

“let’s let that one heal first, and then we’ll see.” she promised.

ellie williams. who totally takes pictures just to post them and show it off to her friends.

your phone went off as soon as you got back home and said goodbye to els so she could head home herself. it was a new post she had tagged you in, which you found weird because you just closed the door.

captioned, “u wish u were this kind of cool.”

followed by her story including a picture of her flipping off the tattoo artist working on your arm from around the corner, both you and the artist unaware. she even had the audacity to tag the tattoo shop - you probably wouldn’t be welcomed back anytime soon.

© lvgrrps 2023 — all rights reserved.

[riveroftales]

:+:-・:+:-・𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍:+:-・:+:-

ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛ ɢɪʏᴜᴜ x ғᴇᴍ! ғʟᴏʀɪsᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ���ʀ

𝘾𝙒! 𝖦𝗂𝗒𝗎𝗎'𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾

“Hello!” You smiled as you walked in the tattoo parlour, holding a box. “I have a delivery?”

“Oh! Hi!” A pretty girl with one tatted arm of a swarm of butterflies smiled back. “Are those the African Violets?”

“Mhm! Got 5 small pots in it, just as requested.”

“Thank you so much! You can leave them on the counter, and I believe the manager already paid?”

You listened to the girl, gently dropping the box near the register.

“Eh? I was told I’d be paid in person after I delivered it.”

“Ah, I see! Please wait for a bit then, I’ll go get the manager.”

You nodded as the girl walked away. Looking around, you took in the sight of the parlour. The whole place was kept neat and you saw a few bottles of tattoo ink.

Looking at the posters on the wall, you wondered if you could also get one.

What would it be?

As cliche as it was, you wanted a flower tattoo. A pretty flower of any kind.

There are a lot of pretty flowers.

“Hello.” A man emerged from the back.

But he’s prettier than flowers.

“Kocho, the girl you saw here, reminded me about the payment.” There wasn’t an expression present on his face, but his demeanour was soft.

“It’s fine. Honestly, things like this happen.” You smiled softly.

The man cleared his throat.

“How much is it?”

“$30.”

“Do you take credit?”

You nodded as you took your phone out.

“Yup! Just scan this and we’ll be good to go!”

He unlocked his own phone before scanning the QR code you put up on your screen.

“Thank you for your purchase!”

You sprayed the small bonsai tree on your windowsill with a spray bottle, humming along to the soft music you were playing in the back. The door opened.

“Oh! Welcome!” You smiled warmly to the customer, just for a blush to rise to your face.

The handsome tattoo artist.

“Hey.” He scratched the back of his head. “I.. Uhm. I need to make a new purchase.”

“Of course! Please feel free to look around and take your pick! I’ll make sure to deliver it myself as well.”

To your surprise, he laughed softly.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I’d like to make a new purchase for you. I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM.

“Eh?”

“I don’t really like stalling.. you already should have my number on your order history. Just text me a ‘yes’ or ‘no’. If it’s ’no’, that’s fine. If it’s a ‘yes’, you can send me your address if you want me to pick you up. Be ready by 7:30 PM.” He smiled softly before putting his hands in his pockets, turning around to leave the shop.

“Wait!” You stopped. “How are you so confident I’ll come?”

He smiled. “You go on blind dates, right? Only difference is that you know what I look like.”

A small laugh came out of you.

“See you then, princess.”

A smile formed on your expression as you recalled the memory. You finished cutting the stems of your flowers and you started to arrange them.

You relocated your office. The store was still the same, but now, your office was in a different part. It was facing the tattoo parlour right across.

You could still remember how the parlour was once the size of a small grocery store, but now, it had undergone renovations and it looked better than ever. You counted 7 new clients.

My Love, you still ready for tonight?

You received a text.

Yep! Just gotta finish a small arrangement for a client who’s getting married soon

You got a response almost immediately.

That’s odd. I don’t remember proposing to you?

GIYUU

I’m kidding, Princess <3

You let out a small huff before smiling. Finishing the arrangement, you put it away at a safe spot in your office before grabbing your bag and walking to the other side of the road to the tattoo parlour.

You wanted to spend a little more time with Giyuu even though you were still going out for a date later that evening. Time just felt so beautiful when you were with him. A little unfortunately, you forgot your phone at your office and hence didn’t see the next two messages from him.

<<Image attachment>>

Heads up: I’m going to propose to you tonight with this ring. Don’t cry, okay? Just say yes or no. I’ll wait as long as it takes. I love you <3 get all dolled up for me, okay?

Ahhhh low-key hate this but I was desperate to upload smth T^T

I MIGHT rewrite this later bsjsjsjsjsj

[palangsaeya]

Hongjoong x reader

Group: Ateez

Members: Hongjoong

Warnings: none

A talented tattoo artist's world is turned upside down when Hongjoong, the charismatic leader of Ateez, walks into her studio, sparking a playful flirtation that blossoms into a deep and passionate romance.

The sound of the tattoo gun buzzing vibrated through the small, dimly lit studio. The smell of fresh ink and antiseptic lingered in the air, familiar and calming to you. Your studio was a cozy place, filled with framed designs, black-and-white sketches, and your personal touch—quirky little items that you had found on your travels. It was a place where you could lose track of time, where your art came to life on the skin of your clients.

You sat at your desk, sketching the design of the day. As you hummed softly to the tune of a playlist you’d put together, the studio door opened with a soft chime. You looked up, expecting the usual, but this time, the person who walked in made your heart skip a beat.

He was tall and dressed in a stylish, casual outfit—dark jeans, a loose shirt, and a denim jacket that someone had painted all over in an artistic way. His hair was dark and messy in that perfect way, framing his face with delicate light waves. He had an aura about him—confident, but not in an overbearing way. He looked familiar but you didn’t know where you knew him from. As he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the studio before locking with yours.

“Hi,” he said, his voice smooth and friendly, and there was a hint of playfulness in it. “I’ve heard this is the best place for custom designs.”

You blinked, startled out of your trance. You hadn’t been expecting anyone like him—at least, not today. He looked like someone who belonged in a glossy magazine or a fashion campaign. But his smile was warm, inviting, and it made the flutter in your chest grow stronger.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, trying to shake off your nerves. “I’m eh... I mean, I’m the tattoo artist here. What kind of design are you thinking of?”

The man chuckled softly, his gaze thoughtful as he walked up to your desk. He had a kind of energy about him, playful but easygoing.

“I need something special,” he began, leaning over your desk slightly, his fingers brushing against the edge of your sketchbook. “Something that really speaks to me. I’m Hongjoong.”

Your eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Ateez. You had been a fan of them for a while, their music inspiring you in unexpected ways. You hadn’t realized that the reason he looked so familiar was because he was the leader of Ateez, your captain. You had been working too long clearly because why else you wouldn’t recognize him? Hongjoong was really here, in your neighborhood and he had walked into your tattoo studio. You quickly reminded yourself to stay professional. He was a person just like everyone else—just a really, really famous person. Also a damn hot person now that you finally see him as something else than just a new customer. 

“Wait, Hongjoong? Really?” you stammered, the excitement creeping into your voice. You cleared your throat. “Sorry, I’m just surprised. I didn’t think I’d be meeting a captain today.”

Hongjoong smiled at your awkwardness, his eyes twinkling. “Well, I’m just another guy who needs a tattoo, right? Anyway, I’ve been thinking about getting something unique. Something that represents my group and my journey as an artist. I thought maybe we could design it together?”

You blinked, unsure of what exactly he meant by "together." You had done plenty of custom designs before, but designing with the person who was getting inked, especially when that person was a leader of a major group like Ateez, was a whole new challenge.

“Together?” you repeated, trying to process it. “You mean like… you want to help design it with me? Like… brainstorming, that kind of thing?”

Hongjoong nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I’m not a tattoo artist myself, but I’ve got plenty of ideas and I think you know what I like now that you clearly know who I am. I have seen your pics on social media and I think your style is amazing, so maybe we can create something that blends both our worlds.”

You smiled nervously, looking at your sketchbook, then back at him. He wasn’t like most of your clients. Usually, they were straightforward about what they wanted, and their requests were easy to follow. But with Hongjoong, there was something different. You weren’t just sketching for him; you were creating something that meant something to both of you.

“Well, let’s start then,” you said, trying to hide your nerves. “What ideas do you have in mind? Maybe something inspired by your group?”

“Something like that,” he said with a grin, his eyes suddenly softer. “But I want it to be personal. Something that reflects not only the group, but me as an individual. It could be a symbol of leadership, maybe a fire, or something that’s a little abstract. Or it could be a text.”

As he spoke, you felt the spark of creativity in your chest. You had an idea forming already—a text that’s big letters would be in his biceps. Something black but the font would be something else. It had to look like Hongjoong. 

“I think I’ve got something,” you said, feeling more comfortable now. “Let me sketch it out for you.”

As your pencil danced across the paper, Hongjoong sat quietly, watching you intently. There was something oddly calming about his presence. Even though he was a famous figure, he didn’t carry the usual celebrity aura of distance. He was just... there. It made you feel like you could breathe a little easier.

Minutes passed, and soon, you held up your sketch for him to see.

Hongjoong leaned forward, studying the design closely. His eyes softened as he nodded. “I love it,” he said with a sincere smile. “It’s exactly what I was hoping for. Simple, yet meaningful.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment. “I’m glad you like it. We could refine it a bit, add some details, but I think this is a good start.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “How about I treat you to lunch? As a thank-you for this amazing design.” His tone was teasing, but there was a genuine warmth in his voice. “I know a place not far from here. I’m sure you’d love it.”

You blinked, a little caught off guard by his offer. But then again, it wasn’t uncommon for clients to ask you to hang out. Still, something about the way Hongjoong asked, and the casualness of it all, made you feel strangely excited.

“I guess I could go for lunch,” you said, your voice more flustered than you meant. “But only if you promise not to spoil me too much.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Spoiling you is exactly what I do best.”

-----

The little café Hongjoong had taken you to was a cozy place, the kind of spot with mismatched furniture, soft lighting, and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. You were surprised by how ordinary it seemed compared to the glitzy image you had of him as a leader of your favorite group. He had insisted on sitting at a small table by the window, his eyes bright as he gestured to the menu.

“So,” he began, leaning forward. “What do you usually order? I’m a big fan of trying new things.”

You chuckled, looking over the menu. “I guess I’m pretty basic. I usually go for something like a vanilla latte or a simple sandwich.”

Hongjoong grinned mischievously. “You’re a fan of the classics. I like that.”

You nodded sheepishly. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with sticking to the classics."

As you chatted over lunch, you found yourself becoming more at ease with Hongjoong. His playful nature was contagious, and soon you were laughing at his silly jokes and stories about his life with Ateez. There was something about him—something magnetic—that made you want to get to know him better.

As the meal came to an end, Hongjoong didn’t let you pay for your share, insisting on covering the bill. You protested, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I told you, I spoil the people I like,” he said, his eyes softening as he caught your gaze. “And I like you, a lot.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, and for a moment, you were lost in his gaze. It was hard to believe someone like him—a famous, talented artist—was genuinely interested in you. But the sincerity in his eyes made you wonder if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too good to be true.

As you both left the café, Hongjoong turned to you with that signature playful smile of his.

“So, how about a walk around the park? It’s a beautiful day, and I think it’s the perfect way to end this perfect lunch date.”

You laughed softly, the fluttering in your chest growing stronger. “I suppose I can’t say no to a walk with a charming captain.”

Hongjoong’s smile widened, and you could see that he was genuinely happy to be spending time with you. It was hard to ignore the way your heart raced whenever he was near.

“I’m glad you said yes.”

And with that, you two set off toward the park, your steps light and your heart full, unsure of where this connection might take you, but excited to find out.

-----

The sun hung lazily in the sky as you strolled through the park with Hongjoong. The gentle breeze tousled your hair, and the world around you seemed to fade into a blur as you focused entirely on him. Hongjoong had a natural ability to make the most ordinary moments feel special. His smile, the way he laughed at your jokes, and the glint of mischief in his eyes—it all added to the growing chemistry between you.

“So,” he began, his tone suddenly teasing, “tell me, what do you look for in a guy? I’m sure with someone as cool as you, it’s gotta be more than just looks, right?”

You felt a heat rise to your cheeks at his question. Oh great, here we go. Hongjoong was acting charming again, and it was hard to keep your composure. You'd been trying to avoid thinking about the fact that you might be developing feelings for him.

“Someone who doesn’t take themselves too seriously,” you said with a half-smile, “and who knows how to make me laugh.”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Oh? So, I’ve got a chance then?” His voice dropped slightly, adding a playful edge that made your heart race.

You bit your lip, pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe... but you’ll have to keep up with my sarcasm,” you teased, trying to maintain a cool exterior despite the fluttering in your chest.

Hongjoong grinned, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “I can handle sarcasm, but can you handle this?” He flashed you a wink, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think we might be a pretty good match.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile. “That’s a bold claim,” you shot back.

“Maybe. But I’m a bold guy,” he replied with a confident grin, clearly enjoying making you flustered. “You’ll see.”

You weren’t sure whether it was the way he was looking at you or the fact that you were in such close proximity to him, but something about the way he carried himself was starting to wear down your defenses. His cocky smile and charming demeanor made it impossible to ignore the pull between you.

As you walked, Hongjoong slowed his pace, moving a little closer. “So, what’s a talented artist like you doing, walking around with a guy like me?” His voice dropped just enough to make it sound like a compliment, his gaze turning into something a little more intense.

You chuckled nervously, unsure how to respond. Was he flirting with you? "I guess... I like a challenge."

He laughed softly, the sound deep and full of warmth. “I like that. Maybe I’m the challenge you didn’t know you wanted.”

Before you could respond, he glanced over at you, his lips curling into that familiar playful smile. “You know, you’ve got a way of making me want to step up my game. I’m usually the one who does the teasing, but I have a feeling you might be the one who keeps me on my toes.”

The teasing tone in his voice sent a thrill down your spine. He was flirting with you, and not in the usual subtle, shy way. Hongjoong was bold—very bold.

“Don’t get too confident,” you shot back, trying to hold onto your sense of humor, but your heart was racing a little faster now. Okay, maybe he was just as good at flirting as he was at making music.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, his voice dropping even lower. “I’m just getting started.” He leaned a little closer, enough for you to feel the warmth of his presence. His eyes flicked to your lips for a second before meeting your gaze again. “Are you always this much fun to be around?”

You swallowed hard, finding it a little harder to breathe. His gaze was intense, and for a moment, you wondered if he could feel the same spark you were feeling.

Before you could answer, he added, “I think I might be falling for you a little bit, you know.”

You froze, your heart thumping in your chest. Did he really just say that?

Hongjoong’s grin grew wider as he noticed your shocked expression. “I mean, is it that hard to believe?” He laughed softly, his fingers brushing lightly against yours, sending a small shock of electricity through you.

For a moment, you were speechless. Was he serious? It seemed like he was, but how could you know for sure?

“I… I didn’t expect you to be so forward,” you admitted, still a little stunned.

“I’m a man of action,” he teased, his fingers lingering near yours as if daring you to take the next step. “Besides, I’ve got to make it clear that I’m interested, right?”

You felt the warmth of his fingers grazing yours, and without thinking, you lightly brushed your hand against his, a small spark igniting between you. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but the chemistry between you both was undeniable.

“I guess you are pretty direct,” you murmured, trying to ignore the way your heart was thumping in your chest. “I’m just not used to... this.”

Hongjoong chuckled softly, his hand now fully brushing against yours. “Well, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m going to keep flirting until you admit you’re falling for me too.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“Only when it’s worth it,” he said, his voice low and warm. “And I think you’re definitely worth it.”

You stared at him for a moment, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “You really know how to flatter a person.”

“Hey, I’m just telling the truth,” he replied, his eyes softening. “But I’ll let you take your time. You’re worth the wait.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your nerves melting away with his words. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. The flirtation felt effortless, and you found yourself actually enjoying it, despite your initial hesitations.

“Alright, alright,” you said, smiling at him. “You win, Hongjoong. I’m starting to fall for you.”

His grin widened, and for a moment, everything else around you seemed to disappear. There was just you and him, and you didn’t need to say anything more. The connection was clear.

“And just for the record,” he added with a sly smile, “I knew you’d say that eventually.”

-----

The soft buzzing of the tattoo gun filled the room, blending with the quiet hum of the music in the background. You adjusted the needle, focusing on the linework that was starting to take shape on Hongjoong’s arm. He sat in the chair across from you, relaxed and calm, though his usual mischievous smile was still on his lips.

"You're doing a great job," he said, his voice smooth and casual as he glanced at you. The way he looked at you was enough to send a flutter through your chest, but you were trying your hardest to stay professional. You couldn't afford to get distracted now, especially not while working on someone as important as him.

"Thanks," you replied, trying to keep your focus on the task at hand. You had already mapped out the design on his skin, the words in a custom font that matched the energy of his music—bold, yet graceful. The piece was a blend of his artistry and your style, and you were genuinely proud of it.

Hongjoong leaned back a bit in his chair, giving you more room to work. His eyes didn’t leave you, though, as if he were studying you in a way that made you feel slightly self-conscious.

"You’re not just a talented artist, are you?" he asked suddenly, his voice playful but with an undertone of something more serious. "You're amazing. It’s more than just skill with you. It’s like… there's something else. Passion, maybe?"

You paused for a moment, glancing up at him. The intensity in his eyes was unmistakable. He wasn’t just talking about the tattoo, and you felt a twinge of heat spread across your cheeks.

"I don’t know," you replied, a small laugh escaping you as you focused back on the tattoo. "I just do what I love, and I guess the passion comes with it."

Hongjoong smiled, clearly satisfied with your answer, but he wasn't finished. He shifted in his seat, his gaze never leaving yours. "It’s more than that, you know. You’re different from everyone else I’ve met. Most people have their walls up, but with you... it’s like you’re an open book."

You felt the weight of his words, even though you were trying to play it cool. Was he flirting with you? You weren’t sure, but there was definitely an energy between you two that felt electric. You quickly focused back on your work, trying to keep the tattoo gun steady.

"So," he continued, his voice lowering as though he were teasing you, "what’s really your type? I’ve got to know—do you usually go for the shy, quiet type? Or are you more into the bold, confident ones?" His eyes sparkled, his lips curling into that signature playful grin of his.

You chuckled nervously, trying to keep the situation light. "I don't know, I guess I don't really have a type. I like... authenticity. Someone who knows who they are."

Hongjoong’s grin widened, and he leaned in slightly, making you aware of how close he was. "Well, I’m definitely authentic. No fake acts here. What you see is what you get."

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in your chest again. "I can tell," you muttered, more to yourself than to him, but Hongjoong caught it anyway. He leaned forward a little more, the playful glint in his eyes turning into something more intense.

"You think I’m easy to read?" he asked, his voice now much softer, like a challenge. His face was mere inches from yours, and you could feel his presence all around you. The air in the room felt charged, the atmosphere suddenly heavier.

You tried to pull yourself together, looking at the tattoo instead of his face. "I don’t know," you said, your voice a little breathless. "Maybe not easy, but I can tell you're genuine."

Hongjoong smirked, clearly pleased by your response. "Genuine, huh?" he repeated, his gaze now softer but still lingering. "I like that."

The buzz of the tattoo gun filled the room again as you focused on the next section of the design. The tattoo was coming along nicely, but Hongjoong wasn’t letting up. He seemed determined to make you smile, or blush, or do both at the same time.

"You’re too quiet today," he commented, his voice playful again, the distance between you suddenly growing shorter. "You’re usually more sarcastic. What’s the matter? Am I distracting you?"

You shot him a look, trying to maintain your composure, but he was right. You felt unusually flustered. "Maybe you’re just more distracting than I’m used to."

Hongjoong laughed, leaning back in the chair. "I’ll take that as a compliment. You know, I’m really starting to like the idea of spending more time with you."

You shot him a quick look, biting your lip. "I didn’t think you’d be this bold."

"What can I say?" He shrugged. "I like getting what I want. And what I want right now... is you to stop being so guarded."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. It wasn’t just a flirtation anymore; it felt like something deeper, something he was really trying to connect with.

"Maybe I like being guarded," you said, trying to deflect, but it came out softer than you intended. Hongjoong tilted his head, studying you as if trying to figure you out. He knew something you didn’t want him to.

"You don’t have to be," he said quietly. "I’m not going to hurt you. I promise."

You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. His words were sincere, and there was no joking in his tone. He was being real with you, and it was impossible to ignore the weight of it. Slowly, you nodded, still unsure of what to do with the mix of emotions bubbling up inside you.

The tattoo was nearly finished, the final details being added. Hongjoong seemed content to let you focus, but his eyes were always on you, watching every movement of your hand. There was a magnetic pull between you two, something unspoken, and you couldn’t tell if it was just the chemistry or if there was something more.

Finally, you stepped back from the chair, admiring the work. Hongjoong’s arm was adorned with the beautiful words, the design fitting perfectly against his skin. It was simple but powerful—a true reflection of who he was.

"Finished," you said, smiling up at him.

He looked at his arm, nodding appreciatively. "It’s perfect. You really outdid yourself."

You smiled, relieved that he liked it. But as you caught his gaze again, the air between you two shifted. There was something unsaid, something you both felt, lingering in the space between.

Hongjoong stood up, his movements fluid and natural, and he stepped closer to you. "I have to admit, I’m pretty impressed. You’re not just talented; you’ve got this way about you... I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I think you might just be the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. "Thanks," you whispered. "I’m glad you like it. I’m happy with how it turned out."

Hongjoong’s eyes softened, and for a moment, it was like the world around you disappeared. He wasn’t just flirting anymore. There was something genuine in his gaze, something that made your chest tighten in the best way possible.

"You know," he said slowly, his voice low, "I think this might be the start of something incredible." He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Don’t you?"

You felt your pulse quicken as his fingers lingered near your cheek. The connection between you two was undeniable, and you couldn’t deny the growing attraction anymore. The room felt suddenly too small, the space between you and Hongjoong too vast for your liking.

"Maybe," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

His gaze softened, and before you knew it, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, but as you both relaxed into the moment, it deepened, the kiss growing more passionate with every passing second. You melted into him, the world outside the tattoo studio fading away as you gave in to the connection that had been building between you for what felt like forever.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, Hongjoong’s forehead rested against yours, and he smiled softly.

"See? I told you," he whispered, his lips curling into that signature grin. "It was worth the wait."

-----

The date had been set, and Hongjoong had insisted on picking the place. You hadn’t expected it to be this simple, this sweet. He had taken you to a cozy, tucked-away restaurant in the city, a place that felt both intimate and exclusive. As you sat across from him, the atmosphere felt warm, inviting, and the only thing that mattered in that moment was the man sitting before you.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he studied you. “So, are you having a good time so far?” he asked, his voice soft and playful.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of the evening. “Yeah, I am. I didn’t expect you to be such a... romantic.”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Romantic? I’m just trying to give you the best time possible. I told you, I know how to treat people right.”

He was right. He had made the evening feel special, something out of a movie. Every detail, from the way he’d pulled your chair out for you to the little inside jokes you had shared, made you feel like the most important person in the room.

But the moment that changed everything came after dinner, as you two walked outside, the cool night air refreshing against your skin. Hongjoong reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asked, his voice suddenly serious, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

You looked up at him, surprised by the question. “I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I guess I’m more of a live-in-the-moment kind of person.”

Hongjoong smiled, his thumb gently brushing over your hand. “I don’t believe in fate either, but I do believe in this moment. And I think this moment is exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in the most tender kiss. This wasn’t just a kiss; it was everything. The connection, the spark, the chemistry—it all came together in that single moment, making your heart feel full.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathless.

“Looks like we’re both falling for each other,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

You smiled softly, the reality of the moment sinking in. “Yeah,” you murmured. “It really does feel like it.”

And in that moment, you knew there was no turning back. What had started as a simple tattoo session had blossomed into something much more—something beautiful, something worth fighting for. The connection you shared with Hongjoong was undeniable, and as the night continued, you couldn’t wait to see where this journey would take you.

THE END

[drabbles-mc]

Permanent Investments

Opie Winston & OC Chris Teller

Warnings: 18+, language

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I’ve ever written for, I’m aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We’ll see how far we get!

Prompt: cherry blossom

Word Count: 500

A/N: the universe can pry teenager!Opie from my cold dead hands!!! i have a whole multichap in the works for these two that i just...haven't finished....but that's a problem for future me lmao. for now we have this! and my burning rage over how few pictures/gifs/etc there are of young-20's ryan hurst. i will continue to be mad about that on my own time.

“I think you’re over-thinking it,” Opie said as he watched Chris pore over all the designs on the walls.

She didn’t even bother turning around to look at him as the response easily rattled off her tongue. “I think, as usual, you’re under-thinking it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head before taking two strides across the room so that he landed next to her. He tried to figure out which one exactly she was looking at without having to ask her—much like her, he didn’t even know where to start. “It’s just a tattoo.”

That got her to turn and face him. “Yeah, it’s just something that’s going to be on my body forever. Clearly you and Jax and, fuckin’, everyone else in the club don’t really care but right now I do.”

He shrugged, not taking the bait and getting riled up along with her. “You’ll get over it eventually.”

She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the options plastered up on the wall. “That does me no good now.”

There was a smirk on his face as he lifted his hand and pointed to one of the designs, the overhead light glinting off the rings on his fingers. They were new, Chris had noticed. He was trying new things, trying to figure out who he was and what he liked. Not unlike her in that way.

“This cute little pink flower seems like you.”

His tone might’ve sounded genuine to any bystanders, but Chris could hear the sarcasm underneath the suggestion. She wanted to be annoyed, and part of her was, but more than that she had to admit she was amused as she laughed. “Yeah, you know, I don’t quite think I’m a cherry blossom kinda girl, Ope.”

“Gonna get a skull instead?”

“Eh,” she waved him off, “that’s more yours and Jax’s speed.”

“Just get my name, then,” he joked, knowing it’d get a rise out of her.

“That’d be a waste of ink,” she replied easily, the smile she gave him taking any malice out that the statement might’ve had under different circumstances.

“Wouldn’t take that much ink,” he shot back as he mirrored her grin.

She pretended to give it real thought even though they both knew it would never happen. “That seems more like a fifth or sixth tattoo kind of investment.”

He watched her for another moment longer as she gave up looking at the potential designs on the walls and picked up one of the books of the artist’s work instead. Her fingers manipulated the pages so easily, almost gentle in stark contrast to so much of how she tended to present herself to the world.

He watched her, still smiling even though she wasn’t looking at him anymore. “Let’s start getting the first four done, then.”

There was a soft smile on her face even though she wasn’t looking at him, eyes still scanning and studying the drawings in front of her. “That’s not quite what I meant.”

[lunarcrown]

Question! But how did you get into doing tattoos? :D

OOOO!!! Ok so I ACTUALLY wanted to be a stop motion animation and I have my bachelors in it and EVERYTHING….(pictured: me on a set WAY BACK IN THE DAY animating for my friend)

BUT LIFE HAS CURVEBALLS and mine came in the form of me being really bad at putting myself out there, over saturation of animators in a VERY extra small field, and painful student debt (that still assails me to this day……..OTL I’ll be paying till I’m a billion years old PLEASE DONT TAKE OUT LOANS FOR ART SCHOOL!!!!!!)

SO I kinda bummed around for a while, working shitty jobs (I hate u 7/11) and ok jobs (I love you Barnes and noble) and generally just fuzzy through life, and THEN I had the amazing opportunity to show my portfolio to a tattoo artist that a friend knew!!!! Now I didn’t HAVE a portfolio but BOY HOWDY I MADE ONE!!!!! And he said “ok come be an apprentice” and I said OH HELL YEAH!!!! Now as for my apprenticeship, it was EH…..I taught myself a lot of stuff and I never got hazed but my mentor turned out to be kinda uncool.

BUT I graduated and now I work at a women/queer owned shop where we all do our own appointments so I can make my own schedule and we have gallery nights and it’s AWESOME!!!! I’m still not great at basically being a “small business” and promoting myself but my clients are amazing and I’m hoping to keep growing!!!

And here’s a lil clip of me tattooing at my first ever tattoo convention!!!! YIPPEE!!!

AND the finished tattoo!! (It wrapped a lot/terrible con lighting but it was SICK!!!)

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the comics: A Good Man (Issue #1)

Here it is. 

Moon Knight Issue #1: The Macabre Moon Knight. 

Written by Doug Moench

Art by Bill Sienkiewicz

Published 1980

If you’ve been following me, I’ve covered the history, the development, the creation, and the evolution of Moon Knight. I’ve covered the writers, the artists, the drama, and the glory of the comic. 

If you haven’t been following me and this is your first run in, please, go back and check out the other reviews. I’ve saved this one for last for a reason and with this one ends the official Moench run. Moench did write Moon Knight’s other appearances from 1975-1980, but they aren’t considered the OG run and while some of them are referenced a lot (See the death of Randall Spector), they had very little impact on the events of the main run from 1980 onward. 

Moench later returns for two special events (mostly to fix a problem that another writer caused), and I may cover those later. But for now, I’m bidding a very emotional goodbye to the OG run and to Moench. 

So… Let’s get this bread for the last time. 

We open on the title page. 

"At dawn, in the Sudan, the memory of the night's merciless cold lingers in the bones while the day's withering heat has already begun to sear the flesh. 

It was at dawn that the mercenary commando squad under the command of the skull-faced terrorist-for-hire, Bushman, hits the rebel camp just south of the Egyptian border. At Bushman's side rode his second in command, Marc Spector.

Thus, Marc Spector begins this day as a soldier-for-hire. He is fated to end it as something else." 

"The slaughter is swift--and soon..." 

We see Bushman and Marc talking in the desert, surrounded by the fallen. 

"An easy victory, Spector... And yet, you do not exult in it!" 

"Maybe I'm remembering I'm a professional soldier--not a butcher! Or maybe It's just the heat." 

"You are too good a man to go soft, Spector! You must be bloodthirsty...Ruthless to survive in our profession!

Fear is the key! You must strike total fear into the hearts of your enemies...And your followers as well! That is why I had my face tattooed into a mask of death! I have become an almost mythical figure of terror!" 

"That's the role you choose to play. I don't!" 

Marc throws his gun aside in a fit of anger. He has been working for the Bushman for a while now. Unclear if it is years, months, or weeks. But he is listed as his second in command. The Bushman recognized that Marc was very good at what he did. Anything that had to do with war, combat, weapons… Marc was the best. So the Bushman has decided to take Marc under his tutelage to try to turn him into a ruthless killing machine that will simply follow the next war and the next. For the Bushman, it isn’t about the money. It’s about the battle. 

While Marc always describes his past as being bloody and himself as being a killer and nothing more, we see flashbacks in later issues that often depicted Marc as a man at war with his own soft heart. He often showed mercy and pity to those he came across when he was alone. 

At that moment the chopper returns, Frenchy has brought them new orders. 

“Good Morning, Frenchy!” 

“Perhaps not so good, Marc… I have stolen a look at Bushman’s secret papers. It is clear to me now that we are fighting for the wrong side… No matter what the pay is.” 

“Clear to both of us, Friend!” 

“Perhaps we should plan a leave taking, eh?” 

“Quiet! Here comes Bushman.” 

Frenchy met Marc before they joined under Bushman. He very quickly allied himself as Marc’s only friend and followed him every since. It’s clear that while Frenchy is a highly skilled pilot and weapons expert, he is not as geared towards physical combat as Marc is. They became a team. Though we don’t get Frenchy’s story until much later. He has his own ghosts. 

Bushman tells them that they are going to Selima. 

The Selima Oasis is located in Sudan, west of the Nile and ancient site of Amara West. It sits along an ancient road that leads into Egypt. 

This was a huge waypoint for travelers in ancient days, as it has easy access to fresh water. 

Not a lot of archaeological work was done at Selima. Sudan has a rough history of war and the likes. Today, Selima sits as a military outpost. 

Marc protests: "But... There are no rebels in that area." 

"True! But rumor has it that an American archeologist found a pharaoh's tomb there! If a tomb has been found, there's gold to be had!" 

What’s interesting here is that Marc protests that “No Egyptian tombs have ever been found so far south of Luxor… But anything’s possible.” 

The fact that Marc knows this tells us a few things: 1. Marc knows his geography. 2. Marc knows the archeological history of the area. 3. Marc knows Egypt. It’s possible that Marc has been to dig sites before, and even more possible that he was interested in Egyptology at some point and read up on the tombs and pharaohs. It’s also possible that as he fought in that area a lot, he spoke to the local people and learned about the areas he was working in. 

Marc asks Bushman if going hunting for treasure is worth the lives that are going to be lost in the process of taking Selima. When he’s dismissed, he angrily confides in Frenchy that he’s had it. They make plans to leave that night. 

Next we find a small peaceful town that, as Marc has already pointed out, is not involved in their war. “When once again the crescent moon shines wanly across the desert, the raid begins–Hard, fast and deadly! The town’s small militia meets death in the darkened streets…” 

In a house on the town square, we find a man and his daughter. 

"Father, who can they be? What do they want?" 

"It is...Bushman! I've heard the townspeople speak of him in frightened whispers!" 

It's Marlene and her father! 

Dr. Alraune knows that word of their discovery has leaked out and now Bushman and "his band of cutthroats" are there to take the treasures for themselves. 

He decides to stop Bushman himself. Taking a dagger, he tells Marlene to wait in the house. 

Outside, Bushman is telling his men to "Search every house! Gather all the civilians and line them up in the square!" 

Yeah...Historically, when people are gathered by force and 'lined up', it hasn't ended well for them. 

In this one moment, Marc lets his instincts take over and he stops Dr. Alraune from killing Bushman. This is the moment that will drive Marc Spector for years. 

He watches Bushman brutally murder Dr. Alraune. 

This is the moment Marc breaks away from what is expected of him. The moment he tries to do the right thing. 

And here, he meets Marlene. It doesn’t go well. She calls him a killer and he tries to deny it but then… “Spector’s protest dies in his throat. If he hadn’t stopped the old man’s thrust, perhaps he would yet live.” 

Marc can only see himself as a killer. In failing to save the old man, he views himself as having assisted in his murder. 

“Yeah… I killed him! And I’ll kill you unless you get out fast, woman! Now beat it!” 

“Is this how you ease your conscience, Pig? I pray that you die the death you deserve!” 

Bushman tells Marc he's growing too soft. But the girl will leave a trail that they can follow and since Marc DID save his life, he deides to over look this one little issue. 

Frenchy returns and Marc is eager to leave. "We've got to leave now... Before she gets too far!" 

"She---? What are you talking about?" 

"We've got to pick up a girl in the desert! I'll explain later! Let's go!" 

"All right, Marc... But I think you are crazy! The copter is this way!" 

But just then, Marc notices that Bushman has gathered up all the other villagers and archeologists and has a firing squad aimed at them, ready to gun them down. 

"Wait! What's Bushman doing over there? Those are civilians! They can't be planning to-- They are! Got to stop them!" 

"Marc! No! You can do nothing---" 

Marc runs to try to stop Bushman but it's too late. The guns go off and the civilians fall. 

"You... Gunned them down in cold blood! You filthy murderer! I should have let the old man kill you!" 

Now, here’s where things mix with legend, lore, and myth. 

In some retellings of the story, Marc is shot and left for dead. In others he’s beaten to a bloody pulp and left for dead. In both those renditions he wanders through the scorching desert. In Sudan, temperatures can reach up to 49.7 °C (121.5 °F). That is enough to kill a man of exposure (and Marc is not dressed for this. That bare chest and arms? Marc really? Protect yourself my friend…). 

“Morning! Already the sun’s rays beat down mercilessly upon Spector as he begins what he knows will be a long walk to his grave. Already his throat is dry… His eyes burn… Noon. He is trapped in a bright, bursting nightmare… He staggers on. Night. Blindly, mindlessly, like a mechanical man he crawls onward, though the wind whips the sand into a stinging storm…” 

"He does not remember standing, swaying--nor the shout--" 

"Look! Against the moon!" Some men point as Marc lurches up over a sand dune. 

He collapses and the men grab him, pulling him away from the raging sand storm. 

"take him into the tomb! I will go to missy's tent and tell her!" 

"Moments later, in the tomb of the Pharaoh Seti..." We see Marc being carried into the tomb where a familiar statue waits. 

Marlene appears asking who he is. 

One of the men, a local that was hired to help at the dig site, proclaims that Marc is dead. 

"Him! Good--He's one of those who killed my father--He deserves to be dead!" Marlene angrily proclaims. "Leave him where he belongs--Rotting here in this tomb. Go back to the packing--We leave as soon as the storm dies." 

Her anger leaves her. She can’t be glad that a man is dead. And Marc did save her from the same fate as her father. She wonders if this is what cost him his life. “He must have suffered horribly in the desert! He was…Handsome!” 

I suppose now is as good as any to acknowledge that this stranger mercenary dead guy is handsome. Someone make sure they put that on Marc’s tombstone. “He was handsome”. He’ll appreciate that. (too soon?) 

 As Marc lays dead and Marlene at last allows herself to cry, the statue of Khonshu looms over them. 

"Outside, the howling sandstorm scratches across the face of the crescent moon. Inside, the torches' flickering light dances upon the hoard or a long dead king. And the stony countenance of the dark god who stands guard over him..."

“Perhaps it is a natural phenomenon which causes Marc Spector’s heart to resume throbbing… Perhaps it is something else… Whatever the reason..” 

And we don’t get to know the reason. Was he really dead? Had he just had a very weak pulse? 

We already know Marc has knowledge about the tombs in the area. Is it too much to assume he also had knowledge about Egyptian mythology? 

What have we learned about Moench up to this point? He had already picked the name Marc Spector back in 1975 when he was introduced in WBN. He had then learned that it was a Jewish name and he had decided to go with it. How much research he did is unclear, but the man also seemed to understand that he was not the best one to dive into deeply Jewish themes. (And yet, inadvertently, he still did and he carried them out in such a wonderful way). We ALSO know that he had taken an interest, like many others had in that time, in what was then known as Multiple Personality Disorder. 

Marc Spector was introduced in 1975. In 1976, the movie "Sybil" came out. It was based on the book that came out in 1973. This was the first big public interest in this disorder and Hollywood ate it up. It’s hard to say WHEN Moench decided to add this into Marc Spector’s character. Perhaps when he first made him all those years ago if he read the book? Or perhaps not till this issue in 1980. 

And as much as Moench was limited in how to properly depict the disorder, he somehow managed to do a damn fine job of it. 

You see, in WBN we get to hear a bit about Marc Spector’s elusive past. To pick the paragraph from WBN: "We'll get to that in time, Mr. Spector. Right now, I find your dossier immensely interesting... Soldier of fortune, mercenary, veteran of THREE African wars, FIVE south American revolutions, Brief flirtation with the C.I.A., Weapons expert, versatile practitioner of virtually all the martial arts, ex-prizefighter, marine commando for Eight years prior to beating a Lieutenant within an inch of his life...Et cetera." 

We get a picture of a hardened man and yet here in this first issue… We see a man in conflict with the brutality of what he is expected to do and what he deems as right and just. 

So when Marc wakes up from his ‘death’, he declares "Where am I? WHO am I?" 

And in this moment of panic, trauma, and confusion, he spots the statue of Khonshu. A statue of protection, vengeance, and power. 

And in that moment, Marc settles in what he must do. 

"Yes... One of the gods of the Moon--Known as the taker of vengeance... A figure of terror." (a figure of fear, much like how Bushman was trying to teach him and mold him to be). 

…..Marc… What are you doing. You can’t just steal random ancient robes and declare it’s ‘yours now’ and run off with it. 

"Mister... You're delirious! you must be! You don't know what you're doing!" 

"Don't I? Don't the dead know what they're about? Because I did die, remember? I'm a ghost now... A Spectre of the moon... The Moon's Knight of vengeance--and I've got work to do." 

I have wanted to analyze the heck out of this for AGES. 

This is a common theme that Moench comes back to time and time and time again. 

Marc believes he died. More than that, there is a possibility that Marc believes he is still dead. 

A man at conflict with himself over his past, over what is expected of him, over what he himself wants to do vs what he always ends up doing. We find a man that wants to be on the good side. That wants to believe that maybe he's helping someone despite knowing that he is causing death and destruction. 

This later turns into a man that despises himself. That thinks of himself as only a ruthless evil murderer that deserves bad things to happen to them. We see it get so bad that he becomes self destructive. 

So here we see a man that 'died' and now thinks of himself as just a ghost of who he was. 

Now, according to how Moench wrote Moon Knight (and no one else followed unfortunately), Moon Knight is also an alter. There are four people under that cape. 

It is possible that in this moment, Moon Knight split off from Marc with his very....very poor trauma processing skills. 

So in this moment, we literally do see the birth of Moon Knight. And with the way Moon Knight is written, more often than not, Moon Knight is co-conscious with one of the others, usually Marc. We don't actually see Moon Knight become aware of being his own person until much later on midway through Moench's run when he actually declares that he is no one but himself. 

But Marc continues to struggle with his identity and the notion of being 'dead'. It becomes a problem later on during the breakdown. And honestly, this is a thing that continues writer to writer. He dies many times over the years and comes back leaving him with less and less of a feeling of existing. Each death results in him immediately coming back and he is the one that experiences it and wrestles with it. 

Anyways, I just have always found that to be incredibly interesting in his character development. 

Marc runs off in their jeep with his new cape billowing in the wind. Marlene runs to get the other jeep to go after him.

"Midnight...ANd an eerie figure stalks the rooftops of Selina..." 

He looms over the watchmen. "Bushman--I want him! You'll stand aside--" 

And in this moment we are about to actually see what Marc Spector can do. It's rare that we really see Marc pull out his tactician abilities. 

He knows how to plan things. To create diversions, to utilize weapons of all sorts, and how to dismantle and break apart armies. 

"Meanwhile, inside the village inn, Bushman's men amuse themselves. The women whose husbands' bodies lay in the square are forced into humiliation worse than death..." 

We find Bushman forcing the women to dance for his men's amusement. 

Suddenly outside... 

Sending Bushman's army scattering, he slips out to face Bushman. 

"Yeah, it's me, Bushman! But I've changed--Just like you, into a figure of fear. I've finally learned your lesson, Bushman... And you're gonna be sorry you ever taught me." 

'changed.' Now under the guise of an Avatar of vengeance. He 100% is a new identity breaking off at this point. His years of trauma and self conflict are finally coming together. 

Marlene arrives and watches from the shadows. As she watches, someone sneaks up on her and snatches her up. 

Her cries distract Marc, allowing Bushman to make a run for it. 

"With the speed of thought, the cloaked figure races towards the source of the scream. Momentarily forgotten, Bushman fades into the night." 

He demands that Marlene be set free. 

"Oui! At once! Anything you say, Marc!" 

Frenchy! 

"I caught this one sneaking up on you! I thought..." 

He releases Marlene. 

Marlene is surprised. "I can't believe it! You--You won...All by yourself!" 

Oh Marlene, you don't even know this man. 

"Yes... But Bushman got away! I wanted his blood.. For killing your father!" 

"He killed--?" 

She realizes that she's misjudged him. 

“Not bad…for a dead man.” 

I also love how Frenchy is just “I was pretty sure you were dead but now you’re back and wearing a cape. Who cares. Let’s go!” This man would follow Marc to hell and back (which he pretty much does later on and suffers horribly for it. It takes a lot before Frenchy finally decides he’s had enough and leaves.) 

And here, we move on to exposition. We've seen Marc crawl through the desert and return as someone else. 

It's time to meet the cast. 

Narration: "He regains his health--ANd acquires three new identities. He is still Marc Spector, and he becomes Steven Grant, whose wall street wizardry parlays Spector's modest savings into a millionaire's fortune.

Then he adds Jake Lockley to his list of selves--Jake, a street-smart cabbie who hears everything!

Together with Marlene and Frenchy, they come to live in a Long Island mansion. Together they are...MOON KNIGHT... Continuing the mission begun in the Pharaoh's tomb!" 

(LOOK AT THEIR FACES. Marc is so frowny. Jake is just a guy. Steven...What is that smirk?) 

And this is where things really get exciting because we've met Marc. We saw what Marc can do and we saw him struggle with being a better man. We saw his...ability to deal with his trauma (nope)... And we saw the start of Moon Knight. 

And what's good about this is that this WAS the beginning of Moon Knight. 

Now we get to meet Steven and Jake. But we don't know when they started. We don't get to see them become themselves. Marlene assumes that when they came to New York and Marc started his new lifestyle that he was creating Jake and Steven for the first time. Just another identity to hide in. 

But again... Marlene doesn't know this man. She assumes she does and after they leave Sudan, Marc is no longer the one she's interacting with. 

Moench never officially shows it or discusses it. But there is a heavy implication that Steven has been around a LOT longer than just since they returned to New York. He acts the most self aware, is the most comfortable being himself, and knows a lot more about Marc and their past. 

Jake, on the other hand, he feels a bit newer. It's hard to say how long Jake has been Jake. It's possible he is a newer alter that came about when they moved to New York, as New York becomes Jake's home and he becomes attached to it to the point of never actually leaving it (He never travels with them). 

It's also possible that Jake was around BEFORE Marc left America. It's possible Jake was around in their youth, went dormant and then came back when the lifestyle changed again to better suit him. 

Either way, the system was not aware of being a system. Marc is heavily in denial and while he was out fighting his wars, the others were quiet and he essentially became front show runner. Steven is the first one to realize that they have a problem and that he is not just Marc and he is the first one to start asserting himself. Jake comes next and then Moon Knight follows. 

Marc is the only one that stays in denial until he flatout has a mental breakdown. ....Oh Marc... 

ANYWAYS… BACK TO THE COMIC. (I could babble about this all day if you let me) 

We first see Steven. 

We see him talking into a recorder. 

"Steven? Is someone with you? Oh. I heard you talking and--" 

"No one's with me, Marlene--Just dictating a case history. Moon Knight hit some heroin pushers tonight..." 

Yeah... just dictating huh? 

One way for newly aware systems to communicate with one another in an effort to open communication or keep the others aware of what's going on is to record messages on their phone (in today's age). 

We also don't really see them use the recorder again after this. Steven is trying. 

He tells Marlene that he found something while taking down the drug dealers. 

"Bushman!" Marlene is not happy. 

"Yes, your father's killer--Here in New York now, out for MY blood. I'm going after him as Lockley." 

He calls up Frenchy, who now lives on his roof I guess? He works on building a Moon chopper and other trinkets. 

He asks Frenchy to follow the cab in case he needs him. 

"Had a weird feeling about this, Marlene--Like I should tape Bushman's story before I left. But you stay behind, no matter what YOUR feelings are." 

He leaves after pulling on Jake's outfit. 

And here we see Jake. He always just calls Marlene "Lady." 

Samules, the butler, has Jake's cab ready. 

"Shall I expect you--That is, shall I expect Mr. Grant--back for dinner, sir?" 

"Don't hold your breath, Samuels. Grant just checked out for the night. And me, I got a heavy date ahead." 

Marlene remembers what happened to the last man in her life that faced Bushman. It's a loss that stays with her. 

"It's going to be hard, Steven...Or Marc, Jake, Moon Knight... Whoever you really are... The last time I stayed behind when a man I loved went after Bushman...I...I lost my father. And now I don't think I could bear to lose you... All four of you..." 

THIS IS THE ONLY TIME MARLENE ACKNOWLEDGES THAT THEY ARE INDEED FOUR PEOPLE. 

It also proves my theory that Moon Knight is his OWN person. 

For Marlene, again… She doesn’t know Marc! He connected to her because he felt terrible about her father’s death, he wanted to save her, and she had no one else. She connected to him because… she had no one else and saw him as her protector/hero. He offered her comfort and a lifestyle she found agreeable. He also helped train her in how to take care of herself. He made sure she knew how to handle guns, karate, self defense… They became a team, but she wanted something more. In the early days, she acknowledged that there was something strange about him and played along. When she got to know Steven Grant, she recognized that HE was the one that could offer her the life she wanted now and she latched on with the hopes that he would stop being the other alters and just be happy with her as Steven. 

This is a common thought with early dealings with “Multiple Personality Disorder” back in the day. That if they could just ‘fix them’ and give them a normal happy life, they could be the ‘good alter’ that was most adept at leading the ‘normal life’. 

It’s basically the old trope of “I could fix him”. 

And now... THE CREW! 

Even from the start, Jake always just cares about his people. He always asks Gena about the kids. 

And at this point, they only know Jake. They don’t know about his lifestyle, about the mansion, Marlene, Steven, or Marc. Later, Gena admits that they just assumed Jake was an undercover cop or something. 

Crawley is Jake’s informant. A homeless man that has a gambling and drinking problem. We find out more about Crawley’s past in a later issue. Crawley also has a distinctive style of speaking that only Moench has been able to pull off, which, unfortunately, has led to other writers just eventually getting rid of him. :( 

Anyways, Jake asks Crawley if he knows anything about Bushman. Turns out Bushman has taken over a lot of the drug and gambling action in the area. And he’s not being very private about it. “Almost as if he wants to be found.” 

Yeah… He wants to be found alright. 

Crawley gives him the address and Jake heads out, changing to Moon Knight. He calls up Frenchy and they head out. 

Moon Knight refrains from telling Frenchy who they are after. He knows Frenchy will want in on the action too, but "This one's mine--Mine alone." 

Unknown to Moon Knight, a fancy car has been tailing him and now continues to follow them as they head to Bushman's hideout. 

And now we see our first Moon Knight swoop! 

Moon Knight enters the night club and asks for the door to the back. 

"Tell your boss I'm about to enter his trap." He ascends the stairs. 

One of the chaps proclaims: "I know who that is! I even saw 'im once--Papers call 'im the Moon Knight." 

Up stairs they find the gambling room. Moon Knight bursts in. 

Those poses are completely unnecessary Moon Knight buddy… But you do you. 

He takes out the bad guys without breaking a sweat. 

He yells for Bushman to come face him. 

A secret door opens. 

"A trap... Just what I came here for." 

He dives in dramatic style, only to find an empty room with a golden dagger on the desk. A dagger from the dig site. 

"A memento, Mr. Spector... A memento of a fabulous treasure stolen from the grasp of antiquity... The ONLY memento I was able to keep--Thanks to you, Spector--Thanks to your treachery." 

Bushman's just a little bitter. 

Outside, the car that was following him comes to a stop and Marlene gets out. She wants revenge too. 

Bushman pulls out a gun and orders Moon Knight to the back room. 

"Forget it, Bushman! I've come for you. And nothing on this earth can stop me!" 

"You're afraid, aren't you, Bushman? Afraid of the figure of terror before you The lesson took!" 

"S-Stay back!" 

Honestly, Bushman knows Marc's skills better than Marc does. And the fact that he essentially beat up this man and tossed him in the middle of the desert to die and then having Marc come back, blow up his camp, and then track him through New York while appearing in the visage of a ghost claiming to have come back from the dead... I'd be worried too. 

At this point, Marlene bursts into the room behind Bushman. 

"At the sight of her father's murderer, Marlene cannot restrain a gasp! Instinctively, the cloaked figure turns towards the source of the sound. Momentarily forgotten, Bushman takes the opportunity to fire, but..." 

Moon Knight doges! 

Yeah, he then turns and shoots at Marlene. 

"Moon Knight lunges... But blind rage makes him careless." 

Bushman knocks him down and goes in for the kill with his sharp steel teeth. 

Moon Knight blocks with his truncheon! And then the anger and violence take over. 

He can barely restrain himself. He doesn't understand why she would want to spare Bushman. 

Her cries for Steven also go unheard. He isn't Steven. Steven is far far from present in this situation. It's no wonder he lets his rage take over and blocks out the rest. 

"Finally, as a soft moan heard through glass rises to a keening shriek, the crimson haze fades... And the fist falters. Opens tremblingly..." 

The police are on their way and they need to leave. 

It takes him a moment to snap out of it. To come back to himself. 

He and Marlene head up to the roof so that Frenchy can collect them. 

"Guess I... Went a little crazy, Marlene... Remembering that at one point I was almost like him.. But why did you stop me? Your father-" 

"I stopped you because I went crazy too at first--I wanted to kill him, but I knew I couldn't... We couldn't!  In a way, he created Moon Knight... But you've been through a lot since then--We've both worked hard to shape Moon Knight into something better than he was at his creation." 

They've all worked hard to set up Moon Knight to be what he is. To be the good man. To have access to what he needs to do what he does. 

"And I just want you to stay that way. I didn't want Bushman to spoil what he started... What you've made into a legend. Behind that legend is a man. A good and powerful man. And no matter how many roles you play, false or true, you must never abuse your power...You must never forget who that man REALLY is." 

And this brings our journey with Moench to an end. 

Bushman was their first villain and the most personal. He created Moon Knight when he killed Marc. He was brutal, and antagonistic to Marc. As the man that murdered Marlene’s father, any time he showed up, it was a high stakes game. No one knew Marc like he did. That is to say, no one knew what Marc was capable of like he did. 

As far as a threat, Bushman never actually was much of a threat. Though he was the leader of the mercenary group, it was always very clear that he got there through intimidation tactics, drastically brutal deeds, and back stabbing. When it actually came to abilities, Marc was always the top. What threat Bushman actually held was started above. Marc could have been Bushman. 

Marc had the ability to become the most brutal and dangerous leader of mercenaries. He had a second in command follower at the ready, Frenchy, he had a knowledge of the politics and governmental ruling of a lot of areas, he spoke several languages, knew how to blend in, knew geography, and he could fight. Marc also has proven over the years (even in Moench’s run) that he had a lot of powerful connections in high governmental positions. 

Yet Marc’s growing disagreements with the way Bushman worked eventually culminated in the literal death of that path. As much as Marc attempts to make himself seem no better than Bushman, he had a big heart. In this, Marlene was right. Bushman created Moon Knight. He killed the part of Marc that had any chance of branching off into that path. He started the legend and with the input of the good in his life, (Steven, Jake, Marlene) they were able to turn Moon Knight into a good man. 

So when Bushman returns as a ‘recurring villain’, I don’t consider him on the same level as say, Morbius or Black Specter, or Mogart or any of that. The REAL threat that Bushman represents is one of internal conflict and past trauma. The threat of Marc’s internal monologue of his own horribleness rising up to a point of self destruction. That’s right, the REAL threat? Marc Spector. 

Throughout Moench’s run we tangle with Marc over and over again. We see Marlene shun him. We see Steven fight him for control. We see Jake push him aside, and we even see Moon Knight himself struggle with his rage. Yet at the same time, we see flashbacks that show Marc being kind. Being merciful. Questioning his actions and deeds. Marc is his own worst enemy. 

By the end of the original run with Zelenetz finishing it off, we see Marc finding a sort of understanding with who he is. Attempting to find resolution in his father’s death, and making a timid peace with Steven Grant. 

When Ellis takes over after Bendis’ disastrous run, we find Marc in a very dark place struggling and drowning. Lemire picks him up and returns him back to the start. Back to Bushman and back to Steven and Jake. Then we have to skip across Aaron and Bemis (Hisss booo) before Marc finally lands with MacKay and we at last… at long last… We have healing. At last we have a Good Man. 

I want to thank everyone that has followed me through this journey into the original comics. I hope you found joy in the old comics and that it inspires you to maybe go pick them up and give them a full read for yourselves. Maybe you disagree with me on some points, and I encourage you to come up with your own theories. Find your own way to love Moon Knight and the message of mental health that Meonch started. 

As we bring 2023 to an end I look forward to getting into other Moon Knight comics in 2024. Some that I either haven’t read in years or that I may have missed all together! Currently I have no intention to continue to review every single comic. That's just... That's too much. But I hope to pick out a few special ones. But I've been wrong before. Let’s see where we go and what we find! 

[seraphicsage]

moaning time! Feel free to ignore so i’m getting a tattoo on my birthday (first one, my 18th yk, vr exciting, vr nervous) and my nan said that since it’s my 18th she’ll pay for it as my present (fab because i’m poor and can’t afford it) so she’s organise it all with the artist and we’re having some trouble getting responses out of her but yesterday we were talking about it so I could understand if i needed to do anything. I have a quite specific design that i would like her to use and since my nan’s organising it i wanted to make sure the artist has a reference of something as close to what i want as possible, reasonable right?

So we had a look at the reference my nan said (she said it would be something like that not exactly like the one she sent, but again, i want to be specific) because my nan thought it was the same, and it wasn’t so i pointed out that no, it’s not the same, the flowers are different and the orientation is different. And she seemed a bit like confused or frustrated, and told me that the flowers were only slightly different and she didn’t seem to think it was a big deal

but it’s like, if I’m getting it tattooed permanently on my body, i want to be 100% happy with it right? Not just like ‘eh close enough it’ll do’

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

Ow.  Here I am again.  Ow.  Five years we’ve been living here, but every time I look down from the roof of the complex, the sights that greet me have never changed.  Ow.  Vast, rolling slums stretch out to the horizon, dotted just a bit too sparsely with streetlights to give you any meaningful details if a cloud steps in front of the moon.  Ow.  Off to one side is the ocean of rusty scrap they call the “industrial sector”—damn thing can give you tetanus just from looking at it—while across from that a pristine chrome monolith of a building watches over the rabble from on high, doing everything it can to burn your retinas in record time.  Ow.  A crane swings slowly over a scaffolding, but after locking in place for a moment, it jerks, trembles, and crashes down into—OW!  “FUCK!”

I more or less throw myself onto the floor as sparks burst from my right arm.  Jian, bless her heart, scoops up the extinguisher in an instant, and in a few seconds I’m out, curled up in a smoking pile like the world’s prettiest bundle of firewood.  Soon I’m able to take a look at my arm: the charring on the casing looks like a tattoo artist got drunk with their pen in-hand, and the wires within were twisted together into a sickly lump that would’ve made my stomach churn if I still had one.

Jian crouches down next to me.  “Are you alright?”

“Peachy.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay…it’s okay.”  It hurt like hell.  “No reason to apologize for an accident.”

She takes my shorted-out arm so gently it makes me want to sob.  “Still, I…I know my way around these implants, I shouldn’t…”

With my left hand, I grab my right shoulder and pop the prosthetic out of place.  “C’mon, it’s not like they were ever made to last this long.”

She already has her tools back in her hands, poking and prodding and prying my arm’s circuitry and panels and whatever the fuck else is in there.  I glance up towards the industrial sector: sirens wail as a massive fire slowly spreads over the dilapidated buildings and decommissioned machinery.  What a night, eh boys?

“Jian.”  I reach for her arm.  You’d have to be pretty generous to characterize my clumsy grasp as ‘gentle’.  “I can go a day or two with one arm.  Let’s go to bed—you’re going in early tomorrow, right?”

She doesn’t look up, just slowly turns a screwdriver.  “It’s alright, Tam, I think I’ve got it this time.  Just give me an hour or so to—”

The arm briefly sparks again, flailing itself out of her grip.  While she’s still stunned, I yank her onto her feet and give her a push towards the stairwell.  “Bed.  Now.”

The flames reach up high.  They’re still utterly dwarfed by that damn chrome skyscraper.

[youtastelike-sunlight]

@rmd-writes tagged me on my fandom blog and why not eh?

Bold all that apply:

APPEARANCE: i’m under 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

(Notes: I have like 30-40 tattoos lol)

HOBBIES AND TALENTS: i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks (if i can afford it) // i can do a handstand

(Notes: I did play a sport and then I fucked my knee. Considering getting into roller derby though.)

RELATIONSHIP: i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friends i have known for (more than) ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

(Notes: Dated my best friend? No. That doesn't preclude anything else lol.)

AESTHETICS: i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season 🍂

(Notes: Every time I've watched the sun rise I've still been awake from the night before lol)

MISCELLANEOUS: i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend// i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities //i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

(Notes: My ability to drive stick is mostly theoretical at this point, I haven't done so in well over a decade. But I grew up on a farm so I learned lol. And tragically I only own two dogs.)

Not sure who hasn't already done this? @nontoxic-writes @maxbegone @roguebebe @celeritas2997 @januarium let's pick on y'all for now.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

Have I told you how much I love and enjoy your writing ?!?? Like almonds is so freaking !!!!! Cute and sexy and just overall good vibes and a good time. Like I’m kicking my feet and giggling into my pillow right now 😭😩🫶🏽 I live the way your wrote both oc and jungkook !!! So freaking cute 💜💜💜thank you!!

Hehehe it would be funny to see their friends group reaction to them dating , specially the mastermind behind this 😆💓

well it would probably go something like

"I see you two got closer, eh?" with lots of wiggly eyebrows and a mildly psychotic expression from the tattoo artist while JK has his hands around reader's waist and their other male friends are swarming around hissing, "what are you doing" to him and trying to pull his hands away and he's slapping them back and everyone is glaring at each other

so

very mature response, I think

ty for enjoying 'almonds', fun fact: the situation and events was a recent (sex) dream I had about JK and I thought I should write it, so I did XD

[skold]

do you ever feel bad about having a manson tattoo? i have the spiral heart thing and i feel bad about it

eh not really but part of the reason i don’t feel so bad is that it’s not necessarily clockable as a manson tattoo unless you know like, mid-tier popular manson song lyrics. since it’s a lyric from an album track that’s a live staple so a member of the general public probably wouldn’t immediately know the song and the artist. and it’s a whole sentence (“i wasn’t born with enough middle fingers”) so you gotta get a long enough look to read the whole thing. i would be more uncomfortable with it (and therefore more likely to get it lasered and then covered up) if it was an immediately clockable logo or a portrait or something like that. i’m also just more of the type to see tattoos as a scrapbook and if it mattered that much to me at the time to get the tattoo then i don’t really want to erase the thing i got tattooed in that part of my life. i dislike one of my tattoos a lot but i have no plans to get rid of it. it just aged like shit.

anyway listen if you’re asking me whether i’d get rid of it, i wouldn’t currently, but for everybody with a manson tattoo i feel like it’s definitely gonna be a personal thing whether they wanna keep it. i think it also depends what it is and where it is and how big it is. in your case if it’s somewhere hard to hide and it’s bigger and it bothers you a lot then i would understand really disliking it now, enough to want to do something about it. and yeah it’s a lot of trouble to get it lasered and/or covered but yknow. it’s your meat suit. you gotta live in your meat suit and you deserve to not hate it. there’s no harm in at least looking into different options and maybe getting a quote from a laser removal place or having a consultation with a tattoo artist to talk about possible options for coverups.

regardless try not to feel too bad about it. you made your decision to get that tattoo with the information you had at the time. you nor your artist would’ve known. you’re fine bud.

[hogletthe2nd]

hihiii im one of the 5 ppl and will take ANYTHING ^_^ ive had a raging hyperfixation on this movie for too long and the lack of content is driving me INSANE the amount of times i check this tag daily is embarrassing

¡ ALSO wanna talk abt the movie but i might flood the tag >_<*

as one of the 5 ppl here i would rily like 2 hear abt smile au :D u have rlly good theories and analyses on the movie so!!! :D

srry this isn’t technically an actual question too nervous to comment or reblog w my name for now…

Do NOT be afraid to flood the tags sorry. We r maximum 5 ppl and back when it was literally 3 I’d make posts pretty often. Did I annoy others maybe but I wanna talk about my girl so idc EH 🤑

When I first got into this fandom I checked the tag so often for art it was a bit..crazy.

So a lot of my smile 2/skye Riley AUs are very unfinished. Because when I got into it I was hyper, and made a few..then never finished them.

If anything doesn’t make sense sorry. I’ll figure it out myself, or figure it out through questions.

I mentioned fankid, I kinda hate his old name so he doesn’t have one currently. I’ll discuss him later.

A lot of things in this AU are the same. I’d say the biggest difference is the fankid, and the timeline. Along with no entity,(It does appear in another au though).(She catches a break for now).

I’m gonna rant under the cut to save from long post.

Skyes still an addict. Her and Paul get into that crash. He dies, she goes to rehab. She stays at rehab for six months, then goes to a sober living home for ehhh a year.

This is because most rehabs keep you for a few days to months. My mom personally went to a rehab for a few weeks, before going to a sober living home for a year + few months.

Because Skye is extra fucked up, and definitely tries to reuse. She’s in there for longer before going to a sober living house.

Now a month into that rehab she has her son. Who she doesn’t keep and gives away. This was partly her choice but also not? I don’t think she has much free will tbh. Her mom probably influenced her decision somewhere.

Just a bit tho, as she knew if she kept a baby she’d be bald come next month.

After getting out of rehab, and sober living her mom wants her to go on tour ofc. Not only has she not really gotten over her trauma, she’s also thinking about idk the KID she gave away. She feels bad but is also afraid Gemma, or the media could find out and be up her ass even more.(Talking media, Gemma would be more concerned).

But surprisingly the tour goes fine, and the au mostly centers way more into the future. Where her son is grown, and a tattoo artist underground. Along with Skyes life.

That’s the good ending, canonically he dies young. And another b comes after Skye, and they have a fist fight in her home. That I’ll talk about..uh..later.

I left out a key detail in this au for fun cus I’m crazy. Real hogo fans know…

(Her and Gemma do get in contact at some point I’d think. Does she tell her about abandoned kid? No probably not. Yes this does backfire.)