#especially like. i’m starting my piercing apprenticeship

[coldbug]

every day i’m so annoyed that “trust” is a five letter word because i desperately want “trust me” as knuckle tats but i simply cannot do a five letter word split across two hands i just won’t do it.

[confessionsofacougar]

James and Mum

James is an 18-year-old boy who lives with his mum in Perth. He’s doing an apprenticeship. Every morning at 6:00 AM sharp his mum goes into his room with a cup of coffee and wakes him up for work. She always puts the coffee on his nightstand and then sits down on the side of the bed. "Hey Big Guy, up and at 'em. Time to rise and shine!" Same time, same routine every morning. "Hey Mum." He rolls around under the covers while she shakes his shoulders, pats his butt and kisses his neck. "A few more minutes?" Same thing, every morning. "Sure," she says. "You can get to work late. I’m sure your boss won’t care if you don't get to work on time." "Crap." He yawns, rolls out of bed in his boxer shorts, grabs the coffee, and heads for the bathroom. Same thing, every morning. So one night a few weeks ago, his mum went to see a movie with a friend. As soon as she left, James called up his girlfriend and asked her to come over. They drank a little beer in the backyard, and then made out for a while in his room. It got late, his girlfriend left, and he fell asleep. Next thing he knew: "Hey Big Guy, up and at 'em!" "Arrgh." James was a little hung over. "C'mon, James, get up." She put one hand on his shoulder and the other hand on his butt, and started rocking him back and forth. "OK, I'm up, I'm up!" His mum stepped back as he pulled away the covers and stood up. I heard her gasp, and I looked at her. She was staring at his crotch. I looked down. Shit! After Cindy left HE had fallen asleep in the nude. Now he was standing right in front of his mum with a serious morning hard-on: all 8 inches was pointing proudly right at her. As he stood frozen there for a moment, her eyes never wavered from his dick. "Shit, Mum, I'm sorry!" He said as he climbed back into bed and pulled the sheet over him. "What?" Mum hadn't moved. She seemed to be in some kind of trance. "I forgot I was naked." "Oh. That." She finally came out of it and sat down on the bed. She put her hand on his stomach – dangerously close to his still rock-hard cock, he thought. "Honey, I've seen everything there is to see on you... although, not for a while, I admit. You've... um, been developing nicely, I see. Nothing to be embarrassed about." "Jeez, Mum, I'm embarrassed that I was standing in front of you with a hard-on." "Honey, that's perfectly normal, especially in a young man your age. I'm your mum and I love you, and nothing you do can embarrass him, Sweetie." She gave him a little hug and stood up. "Now, get up and get into the shower." She stood back from the bed and waited. Feeling sheepish, he pulled back the sheet and rolled out of bed. As he stood up, he saw his Mum's eyes move downwards towards his erection again. Before he could walk to the bathroom his Mum stepped towards him, put her arms around him, and gave him a big hug. As he hugged her back, he felt his cock pressing through her nightgown and against her leg. "I love you, James," she said. "Me too, Mum." She let go of him, and he grabbed the coffee cup off the nightstand and walked out the door, feeling his mum's eyes on his ass as he left. As usual he jacked off in the shower, but this time as he did he was thinking about how his mum's eyes had been glued to his erect cock. When he came, the force of it almost made him fall over. “Hmm,” he thought, “I'm going to have to try this again.” The next morning when his Mum came in, he was naked again. He got up and grabbed the coffee cup. "Sleeping in the nude now, are we?" she said. "Yeah, I sort of like it," he said. "Me too," she said. He looked at her. She was staring at his hard-on again. Her eyes quickly moved up to his, and her face reddened. "I mean... What I meant was, I sleep in the nude, too." He looked at her nightgown. "Of course, I throw something on before I make the coffee and wake you up." "Why, Mum? Are you embarrassed to be naked around me? I thought you said there was nothing to be embarrassed about." he sipped at his coffee. "Umm... no Sweetie, of course not, but... well, I'm your mother." As she said this, her eyes couldn't help straying down to his crotch again. He’d never been the exhibitionist type, but he was starting to enjoy being naked around his mum. It gave him kind of a thrill that she liked looking at his dick. "OK, Mum," he said. He gave her a hug, once again feeling his erection pressing into her. She hugged him back and gave his naked ass a little pat, which turned into sort of a caress. Then he walked off to take his shower, once again imagining that he could feel her eyes on his naked body as he moved. The next morning when his Mum went in to wake him up, she was naked, too. He  got out of bed and stood up, and they looked at each other. His mouth hung open. His mum was a knockout! Beautiful full, big breasts. Her nipples were erect and pierced! His first thought was, "She's cold," but then he detected the faint scent of her sex in the air. His mum was aroused. As they continued to stare at each other, his penis, which had been soft and hanging down against his legs, now began to harden. His mum watched as it slowly thickened and hardened to its full length and pointed directly up at her. "Is this OK, James?" she said. Shyly, as if she were afraid that he'd be shocked, or that he wouldn't approve of her body. "I enjoy being naked, and after our talk yesterday morning, I decided that it was silly for me to hide my body from my own son." “Sure, Mum, of course it's OK. Fuck, you're beautiful! I had no idea." She blushed, then did a little pirouette that let him see her large, round ass. When she had turned all the way back around, he realized for the first time that she was totally hairless…down there – either shaved or waxed. "Thanks, Sweetie." Although she was talking to him, she was staring at his dick. He looked down. He was so excited that his erection was actually pointing up at a 45 degree angle, rather than just jutting straight out in front of him. Every time his heart beat, his dick would bounce up and down a little. It felt harder than it had ever been before. As she watched, a little drop of pre-cum oozed from the tip and slowly dripped towards the floor, trailing a long thin line behind. When he looked back up at his mum, she was licking her lips involuntarily. "Can I ask you another question, Mum? I see that you don't have any hair... down there. Do you shave it?" She tore her gaze from his hard-on and looked up at him. "Oh, no, Sweetie. I get waxed." "Why do you do it?" I said. "Oh, well, it just makes me feel really clean and sexy. And it makes... umm, well, some things, umm, more fun to do." As she said this, her hand moved down and unconsciously rubbed her pussy. He thought he would cum right then, and a little gasp escaped his lips. She realized what she was doing, quickly removed her hand, and blushed again. The smell of her sex was stronger in the air now. "I get it, Mum." he looked down at his own hairy balls and dick. "Maybe I should get waxed, too. What do you think?" Not that he wanted to get his ball hair pulled out, but he was excited by the fact that it kept his mum looking down there. "Yeah maybe. For now, you'd better hit the shower, Sweetie." "OK, Mum," he said. He walked over to her and hugged her. He’s just a little taller than she is, and when they came together his erection pressed up against her bare pussy. She felt his pre-cum against her skin. She gave a little shiver, then hugged him back. When her hand moved to pat his ass, he moved his own hand down and rubbed her ass, too. She shivered again, then gently pushed him away. He grabbed the coffee cup and walked toward the bathroom, his hard-on leading the way.

The rest of that week, Mum was naked when she came in with his coffee, and James was naked when he rolled out of bed. Rather than getting comfortable with the situation, he was more excited every day, waking up early and anticipating her arrival. He always had a rock-hard erection when he got up, and Mum always looked (and smelled) aroused as well. Their "naked hug" was the high point of his day, and he was turning into quite the exhibitionist. The next week James took it up another notch. On Monday he woke up early with a raging hard on and decided to jack off in bed rather than in the shower. He put on headphones but didn't turn on the music on his phone. He pulled the sheet down, uncovering his nude body, closed his eyes almost all the way, and slowly started rubbing the length of his erect shaft. When his Mum came through the door, he heard her gasp through his headphones. To her, it looked as though his eyes were closed and he was listening to music as he slowly jacked his erect cock. Her eyes were riveted to his cock as she slowly walked to his bedside and placed the coffee cup on the nightstand. He thought she would leave, but she just stood there, only a couple of feet away from him as he continued to jack off. Keeping his eyes almost closed, he moved his other hand down to the base of his cock, then began to caress his balls. He heard her moan a little and watched as her left hand moved down and began to stroke her hairless pussy, while her right hand moved up and stroked across the tips of her erect nipples. He could smell the scent of her sex, stronger than ever before. He was turning on his own mum! He was so excited. Here he was jacking off in front of his mother, and it was making her horny. He was hoping that she would keep watching until he came, but was disappointed to see her suddenly walk out of the room. James guessed that maybe he had embarrassed her, or that the taboo of watching her own son engaged in a sex act was too much for her. But only a minute later, she returned carrying a small bottle. She sat down on the bed next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. James opened his eyes, pretending to be surprised. "Mum! Oh, jeez, I'm sorry!" He took off his headphones but kept one hand on his cock. "That's OK, Sweetie." She looked down at his erect cock and licked her lips. "What you're doing is natural and healthy for a man your age. I brought you something that will make it more... enjoyable." She held up the little bottle, and he read the label. "Wet Stuff?" "Yeah," she said, flipping the top open. "I use it when I... it makes everything slick." She squeezed a little drop out onto her finger and rubbed it around for him to see, then rubbed her wet fingers on his arm. "See? Would you like to try it?" She held out the bottle. "Umm, sure," he said. "Go ahead." She looked at him. "You mean you want me to put it on you?" she said. "Sure, I guess," he said. James figured that she would just drip it onto his dick, or into his hand. But instead she squirted some into her hand, put the bottle down, and rubbed her hands together. He let go of his dick and watched in anticipation as her hands moved toward his pulsating cock. When her hands touched him, he couldn't help moaning. It felt so good! First, both of her hands caressed his erection, moving up and down and twisting lightly around, spreading the Wet Stuff over the entire shaft. Then she moved one hand down to caress his balls, spreading the liquid across his nut sack as her other hand continued to work his cock. He looked at her face: she was staring at her hands moving up and down his erection, and gently moving his balls. She was breathing in short little pants, and her nipples looked hard enough to cut glass. Then she pulled her hands away from him and stood up. "There," she said "That should make it a lot more comfortable for you." "Don't stop, Mum! Oh, please, it feels so good!" She stared at him without speaking, and he thought that maybe he’d gone too far. But then she sat back down on the bed and once again grabbed his big fat cock in her little hand. Again, he had to moan as she began working her hand up and down his shaft. James moaned, "Oh, Mum, yeah" and she started jacking him off faster. The lube made it feel great, much better and much more sensation than jacking off dry. And it also made things noisier: Mum's hand made a rhythmic slap-slap-slap sound as she really began getting into it. After a while, he felt the familiar tingle. "Mum, I'm gonna cum!" Her response was to moan a little, and to wank him faster than ever. The feeling started in his groin and spread up his stomach and down his legs. He watched as the first shot of his cum erupted from the tip of his cock and shot maybe three feet straight up into the air, then fell back down onto his legs and onto his mother's arm. "Ohh! Aaaaah! Aaaaah! God! Aaaaah!" He bucked and moaned as he continued to shoot his cream all over himself and his mother's hand and arm. He placed his hand on her back and squeezed tight as his orgasm overtook him. “Yes, Baby" she hissed. The orgasm was so strong that he saw stars, and for a moment he was afraid that he might pass out. Slowly, his vision cleared and his cock stopped pumping. Mum's hand stopped its jacking motion, and her thumb moved over the tip of his cock, smearing his cum all around the head. It felt incredible. He was in heaven. "There," she said. "Better?" James let out a shaky breath. "Mum, that felt amazing. The stuff is wonderful, and it feels so much better when someone else is doing it." She looked at him, still rubbing the head of his dick with her thumb. "Do you do this every day, Sweetie?" "Yeah, usually in the shower." She looked away and was silent for a moment. "I could do this for you every morning, James... if you want." "You're kidding," he said. "You'd really do that for me? Why?" She looked back at him. "Yes, Sweetie. Because you need it, and because I love you, and because... I enjoyed it, too." "Sometimes I jack off two or three times a day," James said hopefully. She laughed and stood back up. "Let's just make this a morning wakeup thing for now." As she said this, she noticed his cum dripping down her arm. "I'm going to get something to clean us up," she said. He watched her naked ass move as she walked out, then watched her tits jiggle when she returned carrying a washcloth and a towel. She sat down and gently cleaned off his cock, balls, and legs, then wiped his cum off of her own arm and hand. "You're still hard," she said. "Yeah, well, this is pretty exciting for me." "Me, too, Sweetie," she said. "Now, hit the shower." He stood up and hugged her. This time, he let both of his hands grab onto her ass-cheeks and pulled her body into his. She moaned and ground her pussy into his erection, then put her hands on his shoulders, gave him a little kiss, and pushed him away. "Off with you," she said. He grabbed the now lukewarm coffee and walked to the bathroom.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were the same: his beautiful naked mother entered his room at 6:00 AM, carrying a washcloth and the little bottle of lube. She pulled the sheet down to uncover his nude body and applied the filmy liquid to his cock and balls. If he wasn't already hard, she played with his penis until it was fully erect, then lovingly and expertly jacked him off until he erupted hard. James couldn't believe his good luck! He desperately wanted to caress her tits, play with her pussy, and more, but he was afraid that if he did, it would shock her and put an end to his fun. On Friday morning she came in at the usual time, naked, but without the washcloth and lube. Fuck! Had she decided that jacking off her own son was wrong? His hard-on was aching for her touch. "Mum?" he said. She smiled. "Don't worry, Sweetie, I'm still going to take care of you. I just thought we'd do it a little differently today, if that's ok." She pulled the sheet and knelt between his legs, taking his raging erection into her hand. "Are you going to jack me off dry?" he asked. "Not exactly." And with that, she bent down and took the head of his cock into her sweet mouth. "Oh, Mum!" he moaned. James watched as her head bobbed down, engulfing maybe half of his penis, then back up again, then down and up again several times. She tongued him all over, wetting his entire shaft, then took him back into her mouth and bobbed her head all the way down until his entire 8 inches were in her mouth, and her lips were against his pubic bone. His own mother was deepthroating him. He couldn’t describe how good it felt. "Mum, your mouth feels so good on my cock!" Her answer was a moan. She began to suck him off in earnest: while her head bobbed quickly up and down, her lips created a strong vacuum that intensified the feeling. Then she encircled the base of his penis with one hand and used it to follow her lips up and down. She was working every part of his dick all of the time, and it did the trick. He felt the tingle start. "Mum, watch out, I'm gonna cum soon!" James expected her to pull her head away, but instead she moaned again and began sucking him harder and faster. He exploded into her mouth. "Aaaaaaah! Fuck, Mum!!" he began his usual bucking, and she put a hand on his abdomen to hold him down. Her mouth never left his cock, and he knew that she was swallowing his cum. No girl had ever done that for him before, but his own beautiful mother was doing it now. His orgasm finally subsided, and he stopped bucking. "Ohhh fuckkkkkkk" Mum pulled her mouth away from his dick and looked at him, and he could see a little trail of his cum dribbling down from her lower lip. As they looked at each other, her tongue flicked out and captured the cum droplet. She moved it around in her mouth for a moment, savouring it, then she swallowed. He shivered a little, and she smiled at him. "Like it?" she said. "Are you kidding, Mum? Can we do that every day?" She laughed. "maybe," she said. Then she bent down and licked up some of the cum that had continued dribbling out of his cock, and swallowed that, too. She frowned up at him. "You're still hard." James reached down and gently grabbed her under her arms, and pulled her up to lay on top of him, face to face. "It's because you're so beautiful Mum," he said. His left hand moved down to caress her naked ass as his right hand moved behind her head, grabbed her ponytail and pulled her down to kiss him. Her eyes closed as their lips met, and her lips parted as his tongue found hers. She moaned deep in her throat and ground her pussy against his hard on as they passionately kissed. Then her eyes flew open and she pulled away, as though she'd just woken up. "Well, umm... that was nice! I guess... I guess we should get you off to work now, heh heh." She stood up. "I sort of forgot to make coffee; I'll do that while you shower." James stood up too. "Mum, did I do something wrong?" "No, Sweetie, I just... we have to be careful is all. Do you understand?" "Sure, Mum, I guess," he said. What he understood was that although she was willing to get him off, she didn't want it going any farther than that. She had drawn the line but was maybe having a bit of a hard time staying on her side of it.

James moved to her and engulfed her in a hug, making sure that his erection pressed into her vagina again. He grabbed her ass and pulled her body into him, moving his hips a little so that his penis would rub against her pussy. "I love you, Mum," he said as he bent to kiss her. Once again, her eyes closed and her lips parted and they ground against each other as they kissed.

She moaned and grabbed his ass with both hands and pulled him against her as she moved her own hips to increase the rubbing contact against his rock hard dick. James knew then that she would let him bend her over the bed and fuck her, and he knew exactly how wonderful that would feel. He didn't want to be the one to cross her line. He pulled away, and she opened her eyes. "James?" she said. "I'll go take that shower now, Mum," he said. "I love you." "Oh, I love you too, Sweetie." She smiled at him. James slowly walked through the door and down the hall, hoping she would call him back to her, but she didn't. On Saturday, James was awake by 6:00, his body in need of his mother's touch. He lay there, hard and ready, but she didn’t come. His balls were aching so he had to jack himself off, thinking of his mothers mouth around his hard young cock.

He was worried. Maybe she didn’t want to do this anymore?

At around 9:00 he heard her moving around in the kitchen, so he got up, put on some shorts and went to get a drink. Mum was standing there, dressed in a short skirt and a white cotton top. She looked so sexy but she didn’t look well.

“Morning, mum. You ok?”

"Morning, Baby," she said. “I’m so sorry about this morning. I wanted to come and see you but I’ve had a really bad night. I must have slept wrong and I’ve got a migraine and a really sore back." "Oh shit. That’s not good. I feel kinda bad now cause I thought you didn’t want to do it anymore." “Not at all, Sweetie. I love our mornings together. I just couldn’t drag myself up this morning.”

“Oh that’s okay. I can massage your back and neck for you if you want? Would that help?”

“It really would, but are you sure you don’t mind?”

 “Mum, you’ve been helping me out every day. This is the least I can do. Besides, I think I’m pretty good at giving massages.”

 She laughed. “Ok sweetie. I’d really like that.”

 Together they walked to her room. Mum went into her bathroom and emerged with a bottle of massage oil and handed it to him as he sat on the edge of her bed.

 As he watched, she lifted her tshirt over her head and exposed her white bra. She reached behind and unclasped her bra and he watched her breasts fall free. They were so big. So full. He’d give anything to touch them. She then lowered her skirt and underwear and stepped out of them. She stood before him in her naked glory. Instantly, he felt the familiar twinge in his cock. It had already started to harden in his shorts. He wanted to be naked with her. She may not want to have sex with him, but he enjoyed having her look at him and touch him. He stood up and took his shorts off. His semi-hard cock pointed straight at her. She smiled at him and licked her lips. She lay face down on the bed.

As he poured a little oil onto his hand, he looked down at her body. Her head was turned to the left, resting on her hands. He could see the sides of her breasts as they were kinda squished and pushed out to the side. Her body narrowed at her waist and below that, her ass. It was big and round. Her legs were apart slightly and her large thighs were just touching.

He straddled her thighs and rubbed his hands together. He started on her neck and shoulders. She lowered her arms slightly so he could massage them easily. He kneaded her muscles firmly. She let out a moan. His cock twinged again. In this position, it was resting against her ass. Surely she can feel how hard he is. He poured a little oil onto her back and proceeded to massage it. Long, firm strokes down her back. Then he slid his hands up and to the sides. His fingers brushed against her breasts. Oh fuck, they were so soft. Mum moaned again. He continued massaging. He would stop just above her ass, not trusting himself to go lower. Not sure how she would react.

“Oh god, sweetie. You are sooo good. That feels amazing.”

His young cock was now rock hard. He was naked. On top of his naked mother. He’d touched her breasts. She hadn’t flinched. In fact, she’d seemed to enjoy it.

He decided to test her boundaries.

With his next upward stroke, he slid his hands to her sides and massaged the sides of her breasts. Mum moaned loudly and squirmed beneath him. His cock pulsed. She does want him.

He started massaging a little lower each time until he was rubbing her ass. His hands slid over her round cheeks and then up her back again. Next time he went lower, she lifted her ass in the air slightly and her legs parted. James couldn’t believe it. He moved down slightly so he was straddling her knees. He massaged her ass and again, she lifted it. Her legs parted and he could see her perfectly smooth pussy between them.

It looked so damn perfect.

So smooth. So soft. So inviting.

His heart was pounding so hard he was sure his mum could hear it. His cock was so hard it hurt. He slid his hand down over her ass crack and between her legs. He waited for her to object. She lifted her ass higher. His fingers brushed against her pussy. James and his mum both moaned. He did it again, this time letting his fingers linger a little longer. She was so wet. He waited for her to object. Again, she moaned. And she parted her legs further.

He started rubbing her pussy. Then he pushed the lips apart and slid his fingers up and down. He felt her clit and lingered there for a moment. Mum shivered a little and moaned again. James rubbed her clit. She squirmed and lifted her ass higher. He slowly inserted first one, then two fingers of his other hand into her pussy.

“Oh James” she began to grind against his hands.

Mum was now up on her knees with her legs wide apart. Knelt behind her, he could see her beautiful round ass and her pussy. His fingers continued to rub her clit and he started to finger her faster. He was surprised at how tight she was. His two fingers were a tight fit. He wanted to put a third inside her but he didn’t want to hurt her.

By this time, his cock was dripping pre cum onto his mum’s legs. He wanted so bad to slide inside her but he was still unsure of how far she would let him go.

Mum began to squirm. He saw her clench the sheets with one hand. She was moaning loudly. Encouraged, he started to go harder and faster. He could feel her tighten around his fingers. Her clit felt hard as he rubbed it.

“James!! Oh god. Oh fuck!! James!!!!” her body tensed and her moans got louder as she orgasmed. A little bit of cum oozed out of her and onto his hand. He hadn’t known women could do that! James slowed down but continued to stroke her. He could see her body trembling as she recovered from her orgasm. He waited for her to tell him to stop but she didn’t.

After a few minutes, he started to go faster again. Then he felt her pussy tighten around his fingers. She squirmed. She moaned. He could see her grabbing at the sheets. She was having another orgasm! This time, she bucked like crazy. She even screamed a little. Fluid poured past his fingers and onto the sheets below her. OMG. His mother was squirting!! He’d never seen that before. it was mesmerising. His hands were dripping with her juices and his mum was literally shaking. It was the hottest thing he’d ever done so far.

As she came down from it, he removed his hands and she rolled over to face him. He was surprised to see tears streaming down her face.

"Mum? Are you OK?" "Wonderful!" she said. "Oh, James, that was... certainly the best massage I've ever had. I'm sorry about... all the noise and stuff." "I enjoyed it a lot, Mum." he touched her pussy again, and she shivered. Then he brought his hand, covered in her juices, up to his nose. Mum watched as he inhaled her wonderful scent, then, one by one, put each finger in his mouth and sucked her delicious moisture off. She shivered again as she watched him. Then she knelt up and pushed him back. "Sweetie," she said with a smile, "I think it's your turn."

[ct7567329]

Everything I’ve Ever Wanted: Hevy x Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: Female Reader, Probably the 2nd worst thing I’ve ever written. 

Word Count: 4.1k (Sorry)

It was another rainy day on Kamino and you found yourself twisting around a small piece of fabric between your fingers as you leaned over the training arena. While other padawans got to explore the galaxy, study holocrons or improve their saber skills, you were stuck on Kamino overlooking the training of clones. You couldn't imagine a worse way to go through apprenticeship but it wasn'tymour choice. Shaak Ti chose you as a padawan, and you had to obey her wishes.

Quickly, your master realized you were a trouble maker. She would always tell you how much you reminder her of late Jedi Master Rael Averross, but she never bothered to explain what that entailed. The only detail she shared was that it meant you were always up for a challenge, which is why she assigned you to help the Domino Squad out.

At a first glance, the Domino Squad seemed like a typical squad of clones. But they acted more like bickering brothers rather than brothers in arms. A typical day of their additional training you provided was usually late night bonding, not necessarily fighting tactics. The boys didn't seem to mind this, except one. CT-782.

CT-782 was the most stubborn clone you've ever met. He refused to have a name other than his CT number, which you constantly told him wouldn't fly with any general. CT-782, of course, didn't care.

One night, you decided a game of 'Who's most likely to?' as a bonding exercise.

CT-782 picked up a card and read it aloud, "Who's most likely to pierce their own ear? This game is kriffing bantha shit!" He flung the card across the room, "How's this going to help us," he passed for a moment before bitterly muttering the last word, "padawan?"

You rested your elbow on your knee and pressed your palm into your forehead, sighing, "Your final test is in three days. This is my last session with you guys. Can you please, please for once take my considerations?" CT-782 got on your last nerve,  but something about that drove you crazy inside, in an almost lusty fashion.

"On behalf of all of us, Commander, we deeply apologize for CT-782's unkind words towards you," Cutup said, giving you a look of sorrow.

Figuring you could make a lesson out of this, you replied,  "You control and dictate your lives and those of the people around you. Remember, when you are cast out to war, you have each other. Don't do something you know can effect your brothers in a negative way. Back when I was a youngling, my squad would always say 'teamwork makes the dreamwork'. Now, I'm sure you've all dreamed of being an ARC Trooper. Well, ARC Troopers always respect and care for those around them, especially their brothers. Remember that boys, because once you master that, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, you all have ARC Trooper capabilities."

This made all of the men smile, except for CT-782 of course.

"Oh yeah. Coax us with dreaming of being an ARC Trooper right before deployment. I guarantee you sweetheart, we'll all be dead within three fights. Just like the rest of us," CT-782 huffed, his arms crossed, "If you're a Jedi, then why can't you give us real training. Something that will actually help us become ARC troopers."

You weren't going to win with him, "You treat everything so heavy. I promise you, everything I've done has done something. Take everything I say with a grain of salt and I promise, you'll end up exactly where you need to be.

Three days later, CT-782 was convinced you've lied to him. Watching the Domino Squad fail their final test pained you. You looked at your master with sorrow in your eyes, "My Padawan, inform the Domino Squad they will be allowed to try again tomorrow."

You nodded, "Of course, Master."

When you made it to their barracks, it was completely empty. Not a single sign of the Domino Squad. Figuring they were eating in the mess or something like that, you left a holopad on all of their bunks with the message from your Master, along with some words of encouragement, personalized for each guy. It was the least you could do.

Later that night, you returned on their barracks to leave another holopad with good luck in their lockers. As you turned the corner to their allotted locker area, you found CT-782 digging through his locker.

"Going somewhere?" you asked, clearly startling him.

He sighed when his eyes met yours, "As far away from here as possible."

You pressed your lips together, "I should report you, but I don't want to do that to you. Here sit down." You patted the bench that was in the middle of their locker area. He was hesitant, but he agreed and sat down next to you.

"Why aren't we good enough?" he asked, setting his Z-6 blaster on the ground, "we all get the same training."

"You could give one thousand men the same training, but you will never have those thousand men fight the same way." you calmly stated, crossing your legs, "Every squad has a different dynamic."

He grunted, "And ours clearly isn't up to your expectations."

"Hevy," you sighed, "I promise you, you all have amazing potential. I wouldn't lie about that."

CT-782 cocked his head, "What?"

"I said you all have amazing potent-"

"No before that," he interrupted you.

You thought back to what you said, "Every squad had a different dynamic?"

"No after that."

"I'm confused?"

He rolled his eyes, "You called me Hevy?"

Then it clicked, "Ohh! That's what General Ti and I call you. We prefer to give our troopers names."

"Hevy, huh?" he huffed, "I think I actually like that. Makes it more special since you gave it to me."

You hummed stiffly between your lips, "So you don't hate me."

He paused. "Why do you have faith in us? In me?"

"Because you're an amazing person, Hevy, inside and out," you answered without thinking.

You didn't realize what you said until Hevy's cheeks became slightly flustered. "I need to go. Good luck tomorrow," you quickly covered yourself up, heading out of the barracks. Hevy remained sitting on the bench, stunned with what he just heard. But now wasn't the time to let feelings getting the way of the upcoming test.

The next morning, you were staring down at the testing arena, eyes locked on the entry way. The Domino Squad was next in line to test. When they finally entered the arena, you stiffened up, anxious of what was soon to come. What usually was a jumble of blaster fire and running into each other was actually an impressive display of skills. For once, it seemed as if the boys were actually fighting together, not just as individuals.

And moments later, Hevy pulled the citadel buzzer out of its place. They actually passed. You felt the weight of not knowing their future slide off your shoulders. They kriffing did it. Hevy ripped off his helmet and looked up at the observation deck, making eye contact, then playfully saluting you. You smiled in response, and gave him a loose salute back.

Later that night, you met up with the Domino Squad in their barracks to congratulate them with their medals. Slowly, you pinned each medal to their cadet uniform.

"I'm proud of you all," you announced, "I'm certain you will accomplish amazing things. I'm probably standing in front of some future ARC troopers."

Hevy and Fives beamed with joy at the mention of them possibly beaming ARCs in the future.

"Don't get too lonely here without us!" Echo chimed in, "We will all miss you greatly."

You brought you hand up to your mouth to try to conceal you soft smile, "I'm leaving too, you know. Off to help command the 212th legion. Which reminds me, I have a meeting soon with General Kenobi. Again, congratulations boys," you began to walk away, "Until we meet again!"

The boys sighed, knowing they would probably never see you again. Hevy wasn't ready for that. Hours later, when the boys were winding down for bed, he snuck out of his bunk and wandered the halls of his home. As he was walking, he realized that he actually didn't know where the Jedi stayed. His head quickly turned to a corridor. You were down there, he felt it.

After taking a deep breath, he opened knocked on the door he believed to be yours. It was a gentle knock, but loud enough for you to hear on the inside.

The knock on the door threw you off guard for a moment. You hastily got up off your bed and sat at your desk, turning on a random holopad. After you felt as if you looked 'presentable enough' for the unknown knocker, you used the force to open the door. A small "huh?" escaped your lips as you saw it was Hevy there.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" you asked as Hevy entered the room, hitting the close button behind him, "what brings you in here?"

Hevy shrugged, "I guess I wasn't ready to say goodbye."

"Take a seat," you offered, pointing to your couch. He was fast to take up that offer. You continued, "I do recall saying, 'Until we meet again'."

"That's true," he nodded, "I just-"  Hevy opened his mouth to continue, then shut it, then opened again, nothing coming out. "I'm sorry," was all he managed to say.

"For?"

"Treating you like Bantha breath. No one deserves that, especially you." Hevy bit the inside of his cheek and looked down, mumbling the next sentence, "I was just intimidated."

You raised an eyebrow, "Hm?"

Hevy sighed, "It'sHardToBeTheToughGuyWhenYou'reSurroundedBySuchABeautifulGirl." His words were quick, almost impossible to decipher.

"What now?" you hummed, leaning in closer to him to try to hear better.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked quietly, but still bluntly.

Your face went pale as he started to exhale slowly. His eyes glanced up to meet yours. You saw through him. Reality hit you. The next day, Hevy ships out, shiny and new. The most vulnerable of the clones. You didn't know where he would end up, but truthfully, the chances he'd live to see many more days were painfully low.

Jedi weren't forbidden from kissing. They were forbidden from emotional attachment. What would mean nothing to you, would mean everything to him.

Why not give this soldier the experience of his lifetime?

You reached out towards his sleep tunic and grabbed some fabric in your fist, pulling him in for a kiss. It wasn't long, but it felt eternal. Hevy gasped before the kiss, shocked you actually were okay with it. When you pulled back he had a blank face. He was off the walls ecstatic that it actually happened but devastated it was over.

Hevy tried to speak but he was still tongue tied, completely in awe of the taste of your lips on his.

"You have a big day a head of you. Go get some sleep," you smiled, waiting for him to exit.

"I shouldn't have been so rude to you," he whispered, slowly backing out of your room, "you've been nothing but kind to me."

You shrugged, "Not too late to change that."

He stared at you in silence, softly nibbling on his lip. "I couldn't have been half the solider I am today with out you."

"Well," you sighed as Hevy stepped out of your quarters. He turned his head to acknowledge your words. You continued, "May the force be with you out there, Hevy. Cause I won't!" you winked, closing your door.

You paced back to your bed and laid down, staring at the ceiling.

Jedi can kiss without attachment! One kiss couldn't hurt, right?

Oh, you were so wrong.

Three Months Later

"General?" Commander Cody's voice buzzed through your com link.

"Cody!" you cheered, "So glad to hear your voice. What's going on?"

Just hours prior, the outpost Cody was sent to inspect, completely exploded. The second you got word of what happened, you knew Grievous was behind it, and you were worried over the status of your commander.

"You worry too much General," he laughed, "but I have some soldiers in the medbay who want to speak to you. They told me not to tell you their names."

"Huh. Weird," you shrugged, "I'll be on my way. If any of them were in that blast with you, I think I owe them a drink when we get to Coruscant."

It didn't take you long to get to the medbay. Though the Jedi cruiser was large, you always managed to quickly navigate the halls. You entered the medbay and looked for Cody. Cody was no where to be found. You walked into one of the private outpatient rooms and your eyes caught glimpse of other soldiers you recognized, even though they weren't in the 212th.

"Either I'm on death sticks or that's the Domino Squad!" you laughed, approaching them. They were all gathered around a single cot. The men turned their heads and smiled at the sight of you. That's when you realized that Hevy was the trooper on the cot.

"It was you crazy baffoons that blew up the Rishi Moon station!? Why am I not surprised?" your attention shifted to Hevy, "what happened to you?"

Hevy pulled down his blanket slightly and lifted up his left arm, which wasn't much of an arm anymore. What was his arm was gone, and replaced with a cybernetic arm. "It's nothing pretty, but at least they gave me a hand," he mumbled, pulling the blanket back up over his new arm.

You spent hours chatting with the dominos. It was obvious they missed having you by their side, but you reassured them, it was even more obvious that they are doing perfectly fine without you. As the later night hours approached, the dominos slowly left the room one by one until you were alone with Hevy.

Fives was the last to leave, and as soon as he did, the room fell silent. Hevy was scratching softly at his thigh with his good hand.

"General," he finally said, turning his head towards you.

"You can call me (Y/N)," you quickly interrupted, looking towards him.

He paused and pressed his back against the inclined cot. Even a pin drop could be heard in the room.

"I keep thinking about it," he finally said, his eyes looking at his lap.

You cocked your head, "about what?"

"It," he repeated, still gazing at his lap.

Oh. He was thinking about it. That kiss. That innocent kiss which you thought would be nothing more than make a man you would never see again happy. That.

"Me too," you mumbled, "Me kriffing too."

His glance shot in your direction. You sensed this and did the same.

"(Y/N)," he exhaled, his words full of lust.

As if you were a droid and it was your programming to do so, you stood up from the chair next to his cot and walked over to him. You slid your hand down his still human arm and settled your hand in his.

"I've been thinking about it a lot," you said again, "More than a Jedi should admit."

He shot you a passionate look and did that darn lip nibble again. As if his eyes requested you too do so, you pushed yourself onto the cot and straddled over him, sitting on his lap. As you did so, he cupped your cheek in his hand and sighed.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" he whispered.

You took a deep breath before answering, "I'm not sure, but as long as we keep going, I don't think I care."

One Year Later

Hevy was playing a card game with some of the other men in the 501st, talking about their plans at 79's later that evening when his Captain, Rex, burst into the barracks.

"Anyone holding the rank of Sergeant or higher, or any ARC's, meet me in the briefing room immediately. That is all."

Rex left the room as quickly as he came in, leaving dozens of puzzled looks behind him. Hevy adjusted his ARC pauldron and walked with the rest of the called upon men to the briefing room. Upon arriving there, the usually lit room was dark, the only thing lighting it up was the hologram of Obi-Wan Kenobi and his General, Anakin Skywalker. Hevy noticed that typically, you were by Kenobi's side Turing holotransmissions. He hasn't seen you in two whole years, but the feelings he had towards you were still there. Not seeing you in the transmission made his heart clench. He had a bad feeling about this.

"We regret to inform you all of the passing of Jedi General (Y/N) (Y/LN). We understand (Y/N) was well respected throughout many legions. We wanted to inform the ranked soldiers first."

Hevy's heart sank. You were gone. There were so many things he wanted to say to you that he would never get the opportunity to. The Jedi reported you missing months ago, but at that point, Hevy wasn't too worried. He knew you were strong enough to survive on your own. But dead, that didn't sit well with him. Hevy was fast to get back to the barracks, where he sat on his bunk in silence. He didn't want to go to 79's that night. All he wanted to do was fall asleep, he could wake up from this nightmare.

Hevy was awoken around 0100 to yelling from outside the barracks. He got up off his bunk to find the barracks empty. It seems as if everyone else went to 79's. The yelling got louder and was understandable the closer he got to the barracks door.

"It's not fair! Not to anyone!" Anakin screamed at his master.

"Anakin, the council did what they must." Obi-Wan responded, trying to calm him down, "(Y/N) is in a safer place."

Anakin grunted, "And we must lie to everyone? Tell everyone she's dead?! Rex said Cody is devastated. Is that fair?! Why can't they know the truth?!"

From that point on, the conversation was too muffled to hear more but it was all Hevy needed to hear.

The Next Morning

"Echo, I need your help," Hevy asked his brother, who was peacefully eating his breakfast.

"If it's about (Y/N) I'm upset too," Echo responded, "but we have an important campaign on Ryloth soon and-"

"Please," Hevy begged, motioning Echo away from his food.

Echo shoved the remaining food in his mouth and followed Hevy, "What is it?"

Hevy nodded his head towards Echo's cybernetic arm that he acquired after a rough mission at the Citadel, "You can tap into the data base with that, right?"

Nodding slowly, Echo inserted his arm into a data port, "What do you need?"

"Open up any information on (Y/N). If it's password protected, try 408588463003. Those are the coordinates of her home planet. "

"I should question why you know that," Echo laughed, but his laugh soon turned to dead silence. "Oh my kriff," he muttered, leaning back on his heels, "she's alive."

"Where can I find her?" Hevy gasped, almost shaking Echo impatiently.

Echo was going to ask why, but truthfully, he was too hungover to worry. All he knew is that this would be his little secret with Hevy, "I think you already know. 408588463003."

"Thank you, brother," he nodded before rushing off. Neither Hevy nor Echo knew, that would be the last time they would see each other for a while.

-

Stealing a ship wasn't easy, but if it had to be done, Hevy knew how to do it. It didn't take him long to find a ship that wasn't only easy enough to steal, but neutral enough to fly into Separatist space undetected. With the push of a new buttons, he was on his way to find the truth. He was on his way to Serenno.

Hevy has never been to Serenno before. Besides, why would he? It has been Separatist controlled since the beginning of the war. But, with its location being deep in Separatist space, it wasn't too hard to land on the planet. Hevy followed his heart, which led him to a wooded area, far from any civilization.

As he exited the small ship, he looked around for any signs of life. Surprisingly, he almost missed the most obvious sign, a door built into the mountain side. Without hesitation, he knocked.

You were bundled up in some blankets on the couch in your home. It's been almost a year since the Jedi Council sent you back to your home planet. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you understood why. Jedi couldn't get pregnant, yet there you were. You were given only two days to leave the temple and escape to Serenno, alone. Well, except for the medical droid the council was kind enough to provide for you.

For the first time all day, you finally managed to find some peace and quiet. If there was one thing you learned while raising twins, it was that there is never a dull moment. There was a knock on the door. No one ever can out here. You rushed to your children's room and locked it, making sure who ever was at the door wouldn't have access to them. Before opening the door, you draped a blanket over your shoulders to hide your lightsaber you kept on your belt.

Cautiously, you opened the door and nearly screamed at who you saw.

"How the KRIFF did you get out here?!" you yelled, pulling Hevy by the shirt into your house, "Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" Before he could answer, the cried of two babies filled the house. "Great!" you groaned, "the kids are awake!"

About a hundred questions swirled through Hevy's mind. "Kids?" he asked, following you into their bedroom. "Since when did you-" he stopped when he saw the two infants, "Why do they look like me?"

"Very funny Hevy," you huffed, "very-" you paused, "wait. No one ever told you."

Hevy raised an eyebrow, "No one ever told me what? Just two day ago, I was informed you were dead. About a year ago, I was told you went MIA!"

You deeply sighed and picked up your daughter and son, handing your daughter to Hevy. He reluctantly took the baby from you, this was his first time holding an infant. Hevy sat on the floor with your daughter while you sat on a rocking chair with your son.

"What other lies did the council tell you?" you huffed, rocking your son back and forth.

Hevy bit his cheek, "With all due respect, Gener-, I mean (Y/N), I have no idea what's going on."

That's when you explained everything to him. How on that night after the Rishi Moon Outpost explosion, you and Hevy made a decision that would hinder your relations with the Jedi Order forever.  How the Jedi sent you to Serenno to try to protect you and your children. How the Jedi lied about your whereabouts to hide the secret. How these children where in fact his, and there was nothing you could do about it.

Hevy brushed his thumb against the little girl's, his little girl's, cheek as she slept peacefully in his arms. You smiled at the father daughter moment, the first father daughter moment.

"You can stay if you like," you finally said, "they are your children just as much as they are mine. And besides, they wouldn't exist if I didn't feel something towards you."

He slowly looked up, away from his daughter and towards you, "You mean that?"

You nodded, "Yeah, and we can pick up where we left off. Right before our paths separated for what I long thought would be the last time."

"I regret every rude thing I said to you on Kamino and I-"

"Hey," you hushed, "I know. But that's history. This is now. The present." You stood up from the rocking chair and sat next to Hevy, resting your head on his shoulder. "You know, nothing about us is conventional, but I think it might work."

Three Years Later

"Uncle Fives is going to get you!" Fives screamed, chasing your children around in the yard. After the Clone War ended in victory, you and Hevy decided to disclose your location to the rest of the Dominos, and they were more than happy to move in with you two. Echo insisted he only did it to be with his niece and nephew but Hevy knew it was because Echo missed his brother.

"Aghhh!" Fives laughed, throwing his nephew over his shoulder, "gotcha!"

You and Hevy watched Fives run around with your children while you cooked dinner.  Hevy rested his head on your shoulder from behind and swayed back and forth.

"Hun stop!" you giggled, "I have to cook."

"I know," he smiled, "I'm just happy. And everything is exactly how I could have ever wanted it to be."

@ganondorf-has-greasy-balls @lightning-wolffe @jedi-dreea @smells_sharpies @hannahjessica113 @gryffindorqueensworld @coffeeandtodd @soclonely @raf-loves-everything @peacelandbread @persaloodles @clone-lover501-212-104 @ahsoka-padme @dangerdumpling @808tsuika @ahsokatano-thetogruta @marvel-starwars-nerd @katelynnwrites @youmaynowdothething

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 8

Chapters: 8/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

“We shouldn’t go in,” Jon tells his giggling partners very firmly, but they pay him no mind, and he gets dragged by the hand into the storefront.

The girl working the front desk looks up with a vaguely alarmed look on her face, probably because Gerry and Martin look drunk, despite it being 11 A.M. on a Sunday. They are not, although Jon can understand why someone would think that, as they march right up to the desk, faces flushed, still laughing boisterously.

“Is Melanie in? She’s a good mate of mine.” Gerry tells the receptionist.

“Yes, I’ll check with her if she has a second for you.” And she scuttles off to the back.

“It’s Gerry!” He calls off behind her, before turning to grin at Jon. “Don’t hover in the doorway, babe, Melanie doesn’t bite.”

“Melanie is in fact, perfectly capable of biting,” Jon mutters petulantly, as he moves further into the room to eye the art on the walls. “Especially when you used to date her girlfriend.”

“Oh look, my favorite emo goth boy!” Melanie yells, exploding out the back of the store, all 5 feet of her filled with frenzied energy. Her face immediately sours when she catches sight of Jon, hiding behind Martin. “And my least favourite douche bag.”

“Now, now firecracker, be nice to my boyfriend.” Gerry pulls her into a hug, which leads to a headlock and a swift jab to his ribs.

“I’m very happy to be nice to Martin,” She responds sweetly, blowing him a kiss. “What brings you lot over to darken my doorstep?”

“Piercings,” Gerry tells her with an unnatural amount of glee.

“Jon agreed to let me pierce him?” Melanie asks, perking right up at the idea of causing Jon pain.

“No!” Jon exclaims.

At the same time, Gerry says, “Nah, he’s not interested, but Martin and I were wanting something each.”

“Martin?” Melanie asks dubiously, eyeing up sweet-looking, pink-haired, cardigan-clad Martin.

“Yes,” Martin confirms with false solemnity. “Boyfriends who bleed together stay together.”

“You know,” Melanie remarks, grinning at them, “I have heard about that Pagan ritual.”

Jon has slunk over to a wall of healed artwork and concept designs, managing to avoid Melanie's barbs. As far as he is concerned, the art isn’t as interesting as Gerry’s work. Although, he supposes that what you can make beautiful on a canvas is very different from what you can make beautiful on someone's skin.

“I’ve got a bit of an opening now, what do you want to get?” She asks Gerry.

“Well, you know I’ve been wanting to have my nipples done.” He offers, teal eyes looking slightly wild.

“Yeah?” She grins in triumph, “I’ve been waiting for this day.”

“Yup and Martin has been considering something for his ears.”

“Hmmm,” She wanders over to Martin to examine him. “Open for suggestions?”

“Maybe.”

“They’re a good shape. Double helix?” She looks to Gerry for affirmation.

“Definitely.” He smirks, eyes lighting up with satisfaction.

"Two?" Martin looks slightly dubious.

"If you do them together, the pain is only a tiny bit more, and the healing time is two-for-one," Melanie reassures him, and Jon thinks it's the nicest she's ever sounded. "It's up to you though, of course."

Jon steals himself to brave the fray, going over to take Martin's hand. It's slightly clammy with the nerves that Gerry's enthusiasm has prevented up until this point.

"It won't be so bad, love." He presses a kiss to Martin's cheek, offering his support. "Just a small jab, then it's done."

"Let's do it."

***

There's a brief fuss with consent forms, aftercare instructions, and payment.

"I don't know what you lot," Melanie instructs Gerry firmly, gesturing between them, "get up to in the bedroom, but no twisting, no pulling, no biting, no sucking your nipples for 12 weeks."

Jon blushes, but Gerry and Martin aren't bothered. "Yeah, firecracker, I know the drill. This isn't my first circus."

"Kinky little shit," Jon mutters under his breath, but the goth only winks at him.

Martin's care instructions are less suggestive, and Gerry and Jon both promise to help him with it.

“Martin should go first,” Melanie pronounces, patting the piercing chair as she disinfects her hands and gloves up.

“Me?” Martin asks.

“Yup, yours will be a lot simpler, and I don’t want to traumatise you by making you watch nipple piercings before your turn.”

Martin climbs on the chair, looking a little pale, but resolute. Jon stands on the side not occupied by Melanie, gripping his hand reassuringly. Gerry stands slightly behind the chair, hand on Martin's shoulder.

The ear piercings are almost comically quick and easy. Two quick pinches, less painful than bee stings, and then Martin's ear is pierced and adorned with small hoops.

He sighs with relief and oh's with delight when Gerry hands him a mirror to check them out.

"I love it!" He exclaims, beaming at Jon and Gerry. They smile back at him, each taking a turn to kiss him on the cheek or forehead, their own relief palpable.

"It's just you and me now," Melanie grins at Gerry and gestures for him to strip.

He shucks off his trench coat and black t-shirt, and stands in front of her, completely at ease.

Jon takes a moment to wonder if he has managed to get himself into a relationship with a masochist. Not because of the piercings, but because Gerry seems to genuinely enjoy being friends with Melanie.

The nipple piercings seem to be a much more complicated process, with markings and adjustments, but several rounds of cleaning and disinfecting later, Melanie runs a metal piercing bar through first one nipple and then the other. Gerry hisses with discomfort but stands carefully steady.

She steps back to make sure they look straight and even, before declaring it a success.

"Nice," Gerry says succinctly, looking in the large upright mirror, nodding his head enthusiastically. He and Melanie high five, and she condescends to grip him in a firm hug from the side.

"You sure I can't tempt you, Jon?" Melanie asks him sweetly as she starts to clean up her station, Gerry putting his clothes back on close by.

Knowing she just wants to cause him pain, Jon tells her firmly, "No, thank you."

He is over by the wall again, looking at different art this time, including a picture of a tattoo that catches his focus. It's a playing card amid a complex arm sleeve, an Ace of diamonds, and despite a lifelong disinterest in tattoos, it speaks to him.

"I think you'd look better with a spade, love.” Gerry manages to startle Jon slightly, appearing beside him and wrapping an arm around his waist. Jon marvels at his apparent ability to read his mind.

“You think so?” Jon queries, softly. Gerry hums his affirmation. “It's a bit much though, don't you think?”

"You don't need the whole card, for what you want. Just the A and the spade. Small and bold." He picks up Jon's hand, indicating the spot below his thumb on his wrist.

Gently releasing it, Gerry grabs a pen and scrap of paper and rapidly draws out a solid, simple design.

Jon glances over at Melanie, extremely dubious. "Maybe we can go somewhere else to get it?" He whispers.

Gerry laughs warmly, tapping the small piece of paper. "I could do it for you myself."

Jon blinks at him, rather owlishly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I can give you the tattoo. I'm probably a bit rusty, but I did survive a full tattoo apprenticeship. I’ve done about a million over the years, although I had to give up my machine when I moved to London."

"You did a tattoo apprenticeship?" Martin asks from nearby, tone skeptical.

"Yup, when I was living in Edinburgh. All three years." Gerry tells them casually. "That's where I met Melanie, actually."

Jon and Martin exchange a baffled look, but choose to simply file it under 'Things Gerry tells us out of order.'

“Well, if you can do it...” Jon sounds a bit floaty but he is staring at the design yearningly, which Gerry knows is a good sign.

"Firecracker," Gerry yells over to Melanie, "Can I borrow your machine?"

***

Melanie makes the stencil while Gerry reacquaints himself with the tattoo gun, setting everything up and getting used to the weight of it in his hand again. The rhythm is always the same with tattooing and he feels himself fall into the past a bit.

When everything is ready, he gestures Jon over to sit in the chair, smiling beatifically.

Jon is shaking a little as he slides up onto it, and Gerry presses a reassuring kiss to his hand before he starts the prep.

"You ready?"

Jon gulps. "Yes."

Martin comes over to take Jon's other hand and Melanie hovers nearby, wanting to watch Gerry like a hawk the entire time he's handling her machine. ("It's the true love of her life," Gerry had confessed to Martin earlier. "Don't tell Georgie.")

Gerry follows the same procedure with any tattoo: cleanse, shave, cleanse again. Numbing cream, in this case, to prevent nerve twitches, then alcohol rub down. Eventually, he applies the stencil carefully, making sure to get it straight and in the correct place.

He checks with Jon, making sure that it is where he wants it. Jon confirms, smiling to see the design on his skin for the very first time.

As the buzz of the machine fills the space, Jon and Gerry make eye contact for a moment. Jon's earthy green eyes are wide, and Gerry can almost see where his pulse pounds through his jaguar vein. He stills a moment, really checking Jon's energy.

He's nervous, it's obvious to see, but Gerry can also see the real desire in him, and with a wink, turns to look down at his new canvas. He sets to work, the buzzing of the needle filling the air.

***

"I love it," Jon whispers to Gerry later, lying in the circle of his arms, Martin's warm weight at his back.

"I love it too." Gerry kisses his forehead sweetly, almost asleep. "Martin, what do you think of your ear?"

"I think boyfriends who commit to pain together stay together," Martin mutters drowsily, repeating his sentiment from earlier.

"Ah, yes," Jon mutters, "The great cosmic bond of suffering."

They laugh easily, the hot excitement of the day echoing within them, yet another thread in the colourful tapestry of their relationship.

[buckpaws]

Fawnpaw’s Way

words: 4,080

Fawnpaw is an apprentice of Autumnclan - known for its clever disposition and keen ability to hunt in the undergrowth of their dense forests. Unlike her littermates, however, her apprenticeship is to her mother, and her den has always been the nursery. Having only learned to walk at 5 moons, there were grim expectations from her clan’s medicine cat; but now at 8 moons, Fawnpaw is at a pivotal moment of self-discovery as she navigates her unique role within Autumnclan. 

(experimental little wc oc writing from song of 6 trees...a story about trees and cats and stuff)

ALLEGIANCES

AUTUMNCLAN resourceful ● forest foragers ● adventurous

LEADER APPLESTAR - dark brown tabby she-cat with a white chest and tail tip, and pale green eyes

DEPUTY HAZELHEART - small light brown tabby she-cat with soft yellow eyes

MEDICINE CAT MAPLEFLOWER -  calico she-cat with orange covering her muzzle DAPPLEHEART - large golden she-cat with a distinctive spotted coat and white paws

WARRIORS FERNSHINE -  stocky calico she-cat with thick fur and green eyes

YELLOWBIRCH - lithe orange tabby tom APPRENTICE, RUNNINGPAW

SORRELWING - long-furred ginger tabby she-cat APPRENTICE, BRINDLEPAW

VIXENBREEZE - Cream-colored she-cat with dark paws and ears, and piercing blue eyes APPRENTICE, MOTTLEPAW

LEOPARDSPOTS - very large golden she-cat with distinctive dark spots and a long tail

DUSKSTRIPE - Thick-furred dark gray tom with dark paws and amber eyes

FOXBURROW - tall, dark brown tabby tom with unusual curled fur and yellow eyes

BRACKENSTRIPE - brown and white tabby tom with amber eyes and large paws APPRENTICE, VOLEPAW

FALLENWING -  dark gray tom with a dark muzzle and ears, and amber eyes APPRENTICE, MISTYPAW

FOGBRIGHT - Pale gray she-cat with a light underbelly, and yellow eyes APPRENTICE, PLUMPAW

BLAZINGBIRD - thick-furred ginger tabby she-cat with a white muzzle and bright green eyes

FINCHMASK - thin light brown tabby tom with a white face and paws

GORSEWIND -  small calico she-cat, blind in one eye

APPRENTICES PLUMPAW - lean black tom with green eyes

MISTYPAW - pale tabby she-cat with large blue eyes

VOLEPAW - small, dark brown tabby tom with short, curled fur and yellow eyes

BRINDLEPAW - tortoiseshell and white she-cat with dark green eyes

RUNNINGPAW -  brown tabby tom

FAWNPAW - tiny brown and white tabby she-cat with a half-white muzzle and green eyes

MOTTLEPAW -  long-furred tortoiseshell she-cat with white paws and a twisted jaw and nose

QUEENS MUDPETAL - small tortoiseshell she-cat with light yellow eyes APPRENTICE, FAWNPAW

MARIGOLDTAIL - strong calico she-cat with an orange tail and green eyes (mother of Rosekit, an orange and white she-kit, and Pinekit, a dark brown tabby tom with a white chest and paws)

ELDERS MARBLECOAT - very old, big white tom with black on his paws, nose, and ears

SNOWDROP - frail old white she-cat with a black spot on her nose, going blind

BRIARFALL - cream colored she-cat with dark ears and paws, and dark blue eyes

BADGERTOOTH - black and white tom with amber eyes and large white paws

                                                           ***

                                                          ch.1

     Fawnpaw nuzzled into her mother’s flank, letting the soft tortoiseshell fur found there lull her to rest while she was groomed. This was what she did every day, as she continued to live in the nursery. She was too weak to handle normal apprentice duties, but her heart was happy surrounded by marble. The moss, leaves and feathers made it comfortable under her paws, and it was hard to imagine making her home anywhere other than the place in which she was born.

     Feeling her mother’s tongue begin to rasp behind her ears, a purr erupted from the tiny brown and white she-cat. Mudpetal was the kindest and most beautiful queen in all of Autumnclan, and the apprentice couldn’t imagine a better mother or mentor. It wasn’t a popular or conventional decision for the young she-cat to stay in the nursery for her apprenticeship, but it didn’t bother her. In the last moon alone, she had seen the entire underground cave that sprawled beyond the nursery, protecting it like a sacred pearl. Mudpetal had also taught her the Warrior Code, how to care for the clan’s elders and kits - Fawnpaw certainly felt like an apprentice! Her mind whirled with the different responsibilities of being a clan cat, and when her siblings would return to camp with their jaws clamped around freshkill, Fawnpaw found herself even more glad to be exempt from hunting. It would be difficult to compete with Volepaw or Runningpaw.

     Her brothers, as well as her sister, Brindlepaw, had been made apprentices two moons before her. They were a strong trio, constantly venturing out from the nursery together. At the time, Fawnkit and Mottlekit had been fighting for the strength to wake up each day. The tiny she-cat smiled, thinking of how much she owed to her youngest sister. Despite her ailments and disabilities, and how different her mind behaved to other cats in the clan, the tortoiseshell had never stopped battering her sister with her paws to play, purring at any cat who came by. It didn’t matter to her, even now as an apprentice surrounded by stronger, bigger, healthier young cats, Mottlepaw faced every day with bright eyes.

     “You seem especially happy today,” Mudpetal mewed, finishing her grooming with a purr of her own. “What’s on your mind, Fawnpaw?”

     Gazing up at her mother for a moment, Fawnpaw felt like she couldn’t speak through her purring.

     “I’m grateful, that’s all. I wonder if I’ll get to attend a gathering soon with everyone else.”

     Her mother was thoughtful, and finally gave her a last lick on the head, smoothing a set of stripes into place in her tabby fur.

     “I’m sure Applestar will let you go soon. The Gathering-Place isn’t too far from our camp.” But her voice held a few notes of doubt that were difficult for Fawnpaw to ignore. She peered up, yellow eyes prying, until her mother had to avert her olive gaze from her daughter. “We’re facing some difficult times. Our leader has many worries.”

     “Do I worry her? For being weak?”

     “You are not weak,” Her mother said sternly, “Being able to run and hunt aren’t the only ways to be strong. You’re learning how to care for your clan in a different way, that’s all.”

     It was as she always told her, and Fawnpaw liked the conviction with which her mother could comfort her. She was loved. That was definitely true. There would be plenty of time to prove herself to Applestar and the rest of Autumnclan.

     A loud mewl filtered into their den. Fawnpaw’s ears pricked to catch which kit was fussing. A pause. Pinekit.

     She looked to her mother for approval, who gave her a nod and a gentle nudge with her muzzle. The apprentice scrambled from her nest on skinny, wobbly legs. Shaking soft bits of moss and fern from her pelt, Fawnpaw scurried out of her mother’s section of the nursery, and out towards the rest of the cave. Following the noise, she finally popped her head through the entrance.

     Marigoldtail was trying to lick her son into feeling calm, but Pinekit just wouldn’t settle. Looking up, the calico she-cat’s eyes brightened at the sight of her sister’s kit. Beckoning her over, Fawnpaw padded up and nuzzled the young tom. His sister, Rosekit, was trying to burrow herself into their mother’s belly, away from the squawks and cries of her littermate. She had even stuffed her tiny white paws over her ears.

     “I’m glad you’re here,” Marigoldtail murmured, looking apologetic. “He’s had trouble sleeping since he came back to the nursery. And the herbs my sister gives him don’t exactly make the job any easier.”

     Fawnpaw nodded in understanding. The poor little kit had had problems with his breathing since he was born close to three moons prior. She nosed at his dark brown tabby fur, stopping at the white patch on his chest. Letting her purr overpower the gentle rattling of his breath, Fawnpaw felt Pinekit begin to knead into her. His cries were soon raspy purrs. She licked away a few stray pieces of yellow coltsfoot that had stuck to his white leg fur like little golden bugs.

     The queen was now purring heavily too, blinking with gratitude at the young apprentice. Once he was thoroughly asleep, she tucked Pinekit gently back into his mother’s belly, where he curled up against his sister. Fawnpaw’s heart felt full at the sight of the tiny bundles of orange and brown fur, their white paws and tails intertwined. She loved her kin, and was so happy she got to take care of them. It would be a long time until they were apprentices, but maybe they could train together someday! The kits were so small, surely she would be able to keep up with them far better than her rambunctious littermates.

     “You have a real skill, Fawnpaw,” said Marigoldtail, her green eyes shining with affection and pride. With her tail straight up and twitching happily, Fawnpaw turned and left the den. She stopped at the entrance of her mother’s den, where the small she-cat was laying on her side with her head resting neatly on her paws.

     “I’m going to go look for Mottlepaw,” She meowed.

     “Good, the sun must feel wonderful today. When you see her, you should remind her to see Mapleflower for her herbs.” Fawnpaw dipped her head at her mother’s request. Her sister wouldn’t love them; hopefully it wouldn’t be a large ordeal to get her sister to the medicine cat’s den.

     “Come on, Mottlekit! They’re good for you!” Dappleheart mewed wearily, trying not to be discouraged by the kit’s loud protests. Rather than saying no, the she-kit simply threw herself on the ground, yowling and screeching. Mapleflower’s tail lashed nearby, orange and white fur whipping in and out of her place in the shadows. The golden she-cat’s ears flattened to her head, struggling with failing to please both her patient and her mentor.

     “She’ll learn…” She started, only to be silenced by Mapleflower’s glare. “I know that they’re not very yummy … “

     “No! No! No!” Came the eventual words from Mottlekit, but her words were slurred and off-center. The cleft in her lip, curled up into her nose like an angry vine, made her look even more hysterical and upset when her jaw opened to yell.

    Disheartened, the medicine cat apprentice guided the kit back to her nest. She would never give up on Mottlekit, no matter how much work it took to get the stubborn little kit to understand her.

     Fawnpaw owed just as much to the medicine cats as Mottlepaw. She spent a lot of time musing on the moons spent helping the two she-kits grow into cats healthy and strong enough to become apprentices. And once they were ‘paws, Applestar had found the perfect places for them. Fawnpaw knew that her leader was proud of her progress so far, even if it didn’t mean an extra body on one of her patrols. Why would Autumnclan have elders if every cat had to be strong and tough? Why would apprentices have to wait six moons to start their training, only after their bodies had begun to become strong and nimble? It made sense to her.

     Letting her paws carry her down the slope, Fawnpaw felt the smooth marble begin to fade into sturdy, gray stone. The vines and aspen leaves marked the entrance of the nursery, but Fawnpaw could tell it by touch alone. She passed it, looking around for any sign of her sister. The cave portion of the camp was quiet, and so she decided to venture up above ground. Maybe one of her littermates would be enjoying some of the greenleaf sunshine that Mudpetal had mentioned. Following subtle divots in the stone from generations of paws, Fawnpaw made her way towards the cave’s main opening. It was steep, and tiny pebbles cascaded down with every step up towards the pouring light that led into the center of camp. 

     Padding up and into the gorge, Fawnpaw’s large ears twitched back and forth. Different scents hit her nose, and she felt a little startled by the diversity of them. Peering around the bend of red rock, Fawnpaw noticed Leopardspots and Duskstripe, her mate, sharing tongues under an overhang. The shade there muted the gold and gray shades of their pelts, and the pair seemed content to rest in the cool shadows. Fawnpaw looked in awe at the large she-cat, easily as tall as a fox, but with a heart a hundred times more gentle. She had heard many stories of Leopardspots’ bravery, bringing her kits to Autumnclan in order to protect them from the wrath of her kind. One of those kits had then gone on to save her life.

     She could also scent Applestar and Hazelheart, their familiar tang muddled with something totally unfamiliar. The imprint of many hushed voices drifted down from the leader’s den, but Fawnpaw couldn’t make out anything that was said. Besides, she wasn’t interested in eavesdropping on the leader and her deputy’s affairs.

     With a polite nod to the resting warriors, Fawnpaw continued on her way. 

     Even as she passed under the dappled light of the forest, peering insistently through brambles and bushes, Fawnpaw could feel that the entire hollow was warm. Her pawsteps were silent as shade consumed her once more. Where the hollow met the earth, thick layers of soil and red stone kept the elder’s den pleasantly cool in greenleaf, but plenty warm during leafbare. Fawnpaw’s eyes followed the vine and honeysuckle trail that she had woven into place at the den’s entrance. The sight of it made her heart surge with pride. Mudpetal had taught her the importance of keeping the elder’s den clean and full of stimulation. It was one of her favorite of the apprentice tasks, though few aside from her found the time to do such a thing in addition to their training.

     Flicking her ears against the tickles of the vines, Fawnpaw caught a scent that she knew too well, and her tail quivered in excitement. Following voices and scents once more through the dark den, she was soon met with a busy scene before her. Mottlepaw was there with Plumpaw, an older apprentice who had once been their denmate in the nursery. Badgertooth and Briarfall, the youngest elders, were resting with the young black tom, who was gently massaging Briarfall’s flank. Fawnpaw remembered that his mother, Vixenbreeze, was the pair’s only kit.

     “Ah, Fawnpaw!” Came a rattling mew from Snowdrop. The she-cat was tiny in her old age, but her white pelt still glowed against the dark stone and moss nest she spent most of her time in. Her brother, Marblecoat, grunted beside her.

     “Two apprentices is more than enough,” He muttered.

     “Fawnpaw!” Mottlepaw cried out in excitement, nearly tripping over one of Badgertooth’s large paws to reach her sister. He lifted it with a flick of his tail tip, and the tortoiseshell stumbled over to Fawnpaw. “Fawnpaw!”

     Blinking with affection at her sister, Fawnpaw nuzzled her head with her muzzle. Mottlepaw practically slammed her head against the young tabby’s pelt, causing her to fumble on her paws. Loudly purring, Mottlepaw looked up at her with love in her asymmetric gaze. Her twisted nose let out happy little huffs.

     “Hi Mottlepaw, hi everyone,” Fawnpaw meowed, guiding her sister to sit with Plumpaw once more. She gave him a friendly wave of her tail.

     “Nice to see you, Fawnpaw. We were just helping Briarfall with her joints,” Came Plumpaw’s voice, as sweet as his namesake. He was a good denmate to her sister now too, and Fawnpaw was glad for it. Plumpaw, or his sister, Mistypaw, were always thinking up games to play with the younger kits. Even when Mudpetal’s strongest had taken to venturing out at any opportunity, there was always the black tom there to play mossball, or give a quick nuzzle during a fit, in Mottlepaw’s case. Sometimes, when she was just Fawnkit, unable to stand or walk, Plumkit would just sit with her and talk. Without him and Mudpetal, Fawnpaw wondered if she would have even known what things existed to be talked about.

    “If they’re still busy, you’ll have to get this tick, it’s making my shoulder ache,” Snowdrop beckoned Fawnpaw over, drawing her from her thoughts. She was quick to begin inspecting the elder’s white pelt, and even faster to find the fat, black tick nesting there. 

     “There’s some mouse bile over in the corner, but don’t go dragging it through here. The pests Badgertooth brings in on his shaggy pelt give me enough trouble as it is,” Snowdrop shared a disgruntled look with Marblecoat, whose black ears seemed to always lay flat in hostility.  

     “It’s a reminder of the forest. You should be glad you get the chance to experience it at your age, Snowdrop,” Badgertooth snorted.

     “She has a point, you know,” Came Briarfall’s amused mew.

     “I still like to hunt. I don’t intend on stopping.” The large tom said with a soft sigh of assurance. His mate laughed low in her throat, leaning on him until half of her cream-colored fur had become one with his long, black pelt. Snowdrop gave only a sigh in response at her endearingly raucous denmates. Fawnpaw could barely stifle her purr at the cats around her as she sat to work with the soaked moss, dabbing the mouse bile lightly onto some of the ticks. It required a delicate touch, so as not to spill the foul liquid on any cat’s fur. She had never been able to smell too well, so it didn’t bother her as much as it seemed to bother the other apprentices. Volepaw practically gagged every time he came to and from Mapleflower’s den with the moss clamped desperately to the longest piece of bark he could find.

     It was funny to Fawnpaw how such a brave and capable young apprentice could be squeamish about something so small. One day, he’d have to let the young cats remove the ticks from his fur. Maybe at that point they’d share a den again, with all of their littermates together, and they could joke about things like that.

     “I think I’ve got it,” Fawnpaw meowed after a short time, giving Snowdrop’s fur a last inspection. The she-cat waved her away with her once sleek tail.

     “Thorough as always, Fawnpaw,” The elder said, seemingly in approval, before casting a glance at the tortoiseshell apprentice sitting a few tail lengths away. Mottlepaw was oblivious, playing with a flower from the den wall in place of checking the elders, or easing their aches. Now, Plumpaw was working alone. “You’ll be a warrior soon, Plumpaw; you shouldn’t spend all your time doing apprentice duties when we have so many.” She spoke now to the dark tom, who met her pale gaze with his own. He clearly picked up on the implication of her words, as did Fawnpaw, who began to bristle slightly.

     But Plumpaw answered in a level tone, “It’s important to me. I hope you’re not too tired of me yet, Snowdrop.”

     “Hardly,” The she-cat laughed in her throat, rasping as she always did, and her eyes were not entirely unkind or without understanding, “Sometimes the only way apprentices learn is when they’re forced to learn on their own, without someone to watch their flank. Life out there is hard, and only the strongest are able to pull through.”

     “You’re sounding awfully wise today,” Marblecoat commented before any cat had the chance, “Who asked for your speech?”

     “Are you disagreeing with me?” Snowdrop’s meow was incredulous, and Plumpaw rolled his eyes before turning back to Mottlepaw and the other two elders, his conversation with Snowdrop clearly forgotten in favor of a new quarrel. It was hard to stay mad at the she-cat on account of her short of a time her criticisms tended to last. Like an ember doused by a lake, Fawnpaw had heard Mistypaw joke once about the white elder’s memory.

     “I caught a butterfly today...” Mottlepaw started up loudly, her head pushed in between Plumpaw’s cheek and one of Briarfall’s dark ears. His green eyes met Fawnpaw’s, and he gave a small glance to the mouth of the elder’s cave. Fawnpaw stood up in knowing, her tail neatly brushing the den floor in a small gesture to her sister.

     “Really?” She said in her usual quiet tone, “Would you come with me and tell me more?”

      Mottlepaw’s interest was captured instantly, and she quickly stood and pressed herself to Fawnpaw’s flank. She could feel her sister purring intensely.

     “Okay! Yes!” The young apprentice was practically swaying on her feet from the breathy purrs rumbling in her throat. It was then that Plumpaw also stood.

      “Mind if I tag along, Fawnpaw?”

      “Sure,” She flicked her white-tipped tail, “Let’s all go for a walk. Let me know if you get any more ticks,” Fawnpaw said, dipping her head to Snowdrop and Marblecoat, who were already settling down at the sight of the trio leaving. It made her heart drop with sadness. Was Mottlepaw really such a nuisance the elders? Fawnpaw knew just how important their opinions were as the oldest cats in the clan, and she hoped to Starclan that they would come around to her sister. There was more to Mottlepaw than her boundless energy and stumbling, or how she looked on the outside. Fawnpaw held that fact close to her heart, and she knew it made her more than a little protective of her youngest littermate.

     Not much time had passed since she had arrived at the elder’s den, but the air of the cave felt even warmer as the greenleaf breeze brought in with it the sun’s warmth. It was pleasant on her fur. Even clumps of moss that grew through crevices in the cave felt comfortable to Fawnpaw’s touch underpaw. 

     “This weather is amazing,” Plumpaw meowed, voicing her thoughts out loud.

     “It’s the best! I hope Starclan makes it greenleaf all the time!” Mottlepaw agreed, and Fawnpaw gave her a friendly nudge.

     “That’s not how it works, silly furball,” Fawnpaw mewed quietly, and her sister’s everpresent purr intensified once more.

     “I’ve never been to Starclan, who’s to say…” Plumpaw said, with a mischievous glint in his green eyes.

     “I don’t even know how to get to Starclan!” Mottlepaw responded in dramatic agreement, “I bet they tell the trees not to grow tall enough for us to get up there! We’d know all their secrets! Secret knowledge!” She rambled on, tromping around Fawnpaw and Plumpaw with a distracted sense of purpose. It was as if she expected a Starclan warrior to come down and prove her wrong if she thought about it long enough.

     “Maybe Mapleflower could tell us more.” Fawnpaw suggested, sensing an opportunity which she hoped would be a tactful enough excuse for Mottlepaw to visit the medicine cat’s den. She seemed to pause, but nodded slowly.

     “Yeah, and Dappleheart can make voices for the story!” Mottlepaw said, excitement slowly dawning on her like a reckoning.

     As the three apprentices made their way out of the deeper cave and back into the open air of the gorge, alive with the birdsong of greenleaf, they saw a hunting patrol emerging from the top of the gentle slope leading from the forest. Fogbright was leading it, alongside her brother, Fallenwing, his apprentice, Mistypaw. They were also accompanied by Sorrelwing and Brindlepaw, who carried a plump squirrel and a blackbird between the two of them. Fawnpaw’s ears pricked at the sight of her strong older sister, and she was about to call out to her before Fogbright’s gaze narrowed on the apprentices.

     “Plumpaw! Where have you been?” Her tail whipped once before she continued, “Why do I have to keep hunting you down too?” She said, pointedly gesturing at the fresh-kill pile with her tail, where Sorrelwing and Brindlepaw were arranging the patrol’s bounty.

    “I’m sorry, Fogbright,” Plumpaw dipped his head in apology, “I lost track of time while I was in the elder’s den. Briarfall’s aches haven’t eased since newleaf.”

     “That’s nice, but it’ll hardly put freshkill in our bellies,” Fogbright meowed dryly, “I hope you’ll be ready for your assessment tomorrow. Mistypaw caught two finches on patrol this morning.” The pale-furred tabby apprentice seemed to shift uncomfortably at the praise directed towards her. Fawnpaw too shifted, but in surprise; she hadn’t known just how early Plumpaw would become a warrior! Mistypaw’s mentor, Fallenwing, came to stand beside his sister. Fawnpaw thought they looked like a pair of proper littermates, with the only difference being Fallenwing’s darker gray fur, shadowy next to Fogbright’s light gray pelt.

     “Plumpaw is doing fine, Fogbright. His battle moves are sharp, even Yellowbirch couldn’t dodge him when we trained the other day.” Fallenwing meowed evenly, and Fogbright seemed taken aback at his words. When Fawnpaw saw the two together, which was quite often, they usually shared a common voice.

     Fawnpaw felt her own paws begin to itch with discomfort. Was she just feeling paranoid today? First with Snowdrop’s dismissiveness, and now Fogbright’s irritation at seeing her apprentice helping Mottlepaw with her apprentice tasks. It seemed as if every time she left the nursery, someone was displeased about the two newest apprentices. She tried to ease the feeling by reminding herself of her mother’s words earlier that morning. If Applestar was feeling the stress of some kind of difficulty in the clan that Fawnpaw couldn’t see, it was very well possible that some of the mentors were also experiencing a strain. Still, it made her ears hot, and Fawnpaw pressed against her sister’s warm, dark fur.

     “Thanks, Fallenwing,” Plumpaw said gratefully, still looking to his mentor apologetically, “I could ask Hazelheart to put me on evening patrol tonight to get sharp.”

     “Don’t worry about it. I want to see your best tomorrow.” Was all that Fogbright said, simply flicking her tail before turning the other way and descending down the red rock tunnel back to the warrior’s den. Plumpaw cringed in clear guilt for upsetting his mentor, and Mistypaw padded up to give him a sympathetic lick on his shoulder. Her blue eyes were as clear as the sky, offering him comfort without words. Fawnpaw admired their bond; she couldn’t imagine growing up with only her mother and her aging kin. She thought they were a beautiful family, but couldn’t shake the feeling that without her father, Foxburrow, she would be impossibly sad, or that deep down she’d feel a hole in her heart. Never had a day gone by without him visiting the nursery, or the medicine cat’s den, when life had been truly uncertain. His deep amber gaze never failed to shine with pride at her or Mottlepaw. Fawnpaw would never get tired of hearing the story of her father’s coming to Autumnclan, how as a loner, he had been so captivated by Mudpetal’s beauty that he had asked their previous leader, Gingerstar, to take him into the clan. It must be difficult for Vixenbreeze’s kits to have never known what their father was like.

     “I guess there’s no harm if I come with you to see Mapleflower and Dappleheart now,” Plumpaw said at last breaking the awkward silence left by Fogbright’s sharp words. And seemingly sensing the energy directed at her denmate, Brindlepaw had quietly slipped through the tunnel after Sorrelwing, and the opportunity to talk to her was gone too.

                                                                  ***

[kpopmalereader]

happy, pt.2 ; jung chanwoo

• summary: happy, pt.2 • pairing: jung chanwoo x male!reader • word count: 1644 • to do

happy ; pt.1, pt.2

“Group meeting,” Chanwoo answers before anyone asks. “That’s why I’m here, I want to have a group meeting.”

He managed to catch everyone in the living room. A small box-fan whirs on the coffee table, Chanwoo clicks the speed lower and pushes it to the back edge of the table. The tension grows with every pace Chanwoo takes as everyone else in the room pretends to relax.

Chanwoo stops pacing after a few minutes and stands behind the table. He picks at the peeling paint on the fan as he talks. “I want to talk about my boyfriend.”

“Chanwoo,” Hanbin starts.

Chanwoo holds his hand up to stop him. “Just listen.”

They seem to be paying attention to him, he can’t tell if their focus is a good or bad thing.

“Y/N is a good person. You don’t know anything about him because you choose not to know anything about him. I’ve tried to tell you about him and every time I’ve mentioned him one of you rants and raves about how bad of a person he is.” Chanwoo pushes his hair back.

The plan Chanwoo is carefully concocting in his mind shakes and wobbles but waking up to your beautiful face, watching your glasses slide down the bridge of your nose as you concentrate on new designs, the effortless charisma that exudes from you as you pour and mix drinks at the bar, Chanwoo’s want for you to be close to his friends, to have his favorite people know and enjoy being around each other. Those things are enough to push his hastily made plan into the spotlight.

Chanwoo repeats. “He’s a good person. He’s an amazing artist, he’s fiercely protective, he takes care of his family, sends them money, calls any family he can as much as he can, he gets upset if I stay out too late, he checks my temperature every hour if he even hears a cough, he’s such a good person. His job, being covered in tattoos, those aren’t good enough reasons for you to judge him like you have. How many times have you guys asked to meet him? I don’t think I’ve heard any of you ask about him, meanwhile, he asks about you, wants to meet you, listens intently anytime I mention you.”

Nobody makes direct eye contact with Chanwoo and he continues.

“I want you to meet him today.” Chanwoo crosses his arms, shaking his head when expressions of disagreement appear. “I don’t want any questions or objections. I need you to meet him, see who he really is. I know you’re going to end up liking him. You’re meeting him, today. I want you to see where he works, how he is, who he is. It’s not up for question, everyone in the car.”

*

“Chanwoo!” The receptionist leans forward, pulling her headphones off. “We’re not supposed to be taking any walk-ins today, but I would be willing to give you a piercing or two without putting it on the books.”

Chanwoo shakes his head. “Is Y/N still with his client?”

“Do you want me to go tell him you’re here? See how long it’ll be?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The receptionist walks into the backroom. Bobby walks to one of the walls, looking at the tattoo designs and pictures tacked on the wall. Chanwoo looks over at him and points at a specific picture on the wall.

“That was Y/N’s first big tattoo he did alone. He worked on a bunch of smaller tattoos, working his way up, working with the other artists, but the person that one is on. Austin, I think his name was. He thought Y/N’s work and drawings were amazing and asked him to do this huge piece across his back. It’s still the biggest piece Y/N has ever done.”

“He drew it himself?” Bobby asks, inspecting the big picture and the smaller ones circling it.

“Did everything himself. Austin is like a tattoo aficionado. His word in the business is a big one and after he finished the tattoo, Austin spread his name around. Now he’s a huge name in the business and people beg for appointments and seating at all hours.”

The receptionist returns and sits back in her seat. “And when we open the all-day walk-ins we have lines going down the block. He’s made himself a big name, people come from all around.”

Junhoe and Yunhyeong look at the different piercings while Jinhwan joins Bobby looking at the different tattoo options. Donghyuk and Hanbin join Chanwoo in the middle of the room.

“What’s that?” Donghyuck points to a gumball-machine in the corner.

“They are tattoo vending machines.” Chanwoo points to one end of the room. “They start at fifteen dollars and go all the way to one hundred dollars. You pay, turn the dial, whatever design you get, you get it tattooed.”

Your client walks out of the closed room, smiling at Chanwoo and the receptionist as they walk out.

“Hey Chanwoo.” The client grabs a package of bandages from the front desk. “You thinking about getting anything?”

Chanwoo scrunches his nose. “No, I don’t think so. Is that your last appointment?”

“Yep, left arm down, now to work on the right. It’s a shame Y/N gets booked so far out, he’s one of the best.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Chanwoo smiles. “If you can tell my friends here how good of a tattoo artist and person Y/N is, I will put in a good word for you.”

Everyone begins to pay attention to the client and they pull their sleeve up. They slowly rotate their arm, pointing out a few tattoos.

“Well, you can see for yourself how talented he is. He’s my go-to artist and added a free nose piercing for being a ‘frequent flyer’.” The client nods his head and lets his sleeve fall. “And as for personality, he is wonderful. He gives amazing advice, he knows when someone needs to talk, he put in a good word for me at his old bar, and even though he left and started that new place the managers liked him enough to trust him. Speaking of that bar though,”

“Yeah, thank you.” Hanbin smiles and nods his head. The client walks out. “We get it, Chanwoo.”

“No. I want you to hear about him, meet him.”

“But you don’t need to corner someone who he stabs with a needle thousands of times.” Jinhwan shakes his head. “We’ll meet him, but you don’t need to ask everyone he knows about it.”

You step out of the tattoo room, stretching your shoulders out. You smile down the hallway at Chanwoo, spitting a piece of gum into the trashcan. Chanwoo waves you down and you straighten your back. You take a deep breath before walking down the hallway, a hopeful and friendly smile on your face.

“Hello,”

“What kind of bird is this?” Junhoe asks. You raise your eyebrows and look at the drawing he’s pointing to. “This one, do you know what kind it is?”

Your eyes light up. “Chickadee.”

Junhoe nods with an appreciative grin. “It’s on the wall a few times, and in a few of the books. Why?”

You scratch the back of your head, Chanwoo can see your ears going red. “I had a mentor when I first got into art and tattooing, he was obsessed with animals and symbolism, especially birds. He had a big tattoo of an albatross. Albatross are said to be teachers, they guide you, challenge you. He said I was a chickadee.”

“What’s the symbolism of-”

Chanwoo answers for you. “Unfathomable positivity, courage. Surrounded and loved by good people, I check those two boxes. Trusting, always willing to listen and offer help.”

You clear your throat and move on as your face becomes redder and redder. “Since then, I’ve wanted a chickadee tattoo. I draw them whenever I’m upset or need to take my mind off of things. But because of how much I want one, I can never pin down a style or place that feels perfect. I’ll probably end up tattooing twenty on myself.”

“You can do that?” Yunhyeong asks. He repeats. “Tattoo on yourself?”

You nod and show a spot on the back of your wrist. “This was the first time I worked with glow-in-the-dark ink, wanted to test everything out on myself first.” You pull your shirt up to show your inner forearm, another on your other hand. “I’ve got a few on my legs too. It’s an easy way to practice and fight off boredom.”

“How bored can you be? Don’t you work two jobs?” Jinhwan asks.

“I do. I work here during the day and then most nights I work at the bar.” You shrug, bumping shoulders with Chanwoo as you turn to the door. “I don’t like sitting still.”

“Do you own the bar? Your last appointment said you opened the place.” Hanbin’s eyebrows pull down in question.

You nod slowly. “I do. Me and two of my friends opened it when I graduated.”

“He got his four-year degree early, finished his tattoo apprenticeship, and opened a bar in the span of a few months.” Chanwoo brags. “Then met me and his life got even better.”

“I’m not arguing.” You smile. “It was stressful for a while but it’s very rewarding. I can be a CEO when I want, I can be bartender, give very affordable tattoos without worrying about paying rent.”

Chanwoo smiles at Hanbin as the other guys ask you more questions. “So?”

“He seems nice. He has a stable job. He’s been watching you out of the corner of his eye, he seems to care for you.”

“I could have told you that without forcing you to come here.” Chanwoo joins you and rolls his eyes at some of the questions. “I think they like you.”

[kurokoros]

turn a little faster (the world will follow after) preview | sp x oc

Title: turn a little faster (the world will follow after)

Rated: T

Words: ~1K

Pairing: Sweet Pea X Jubilee Jones

Summary: Sweet Pea never expected to meet his soulmate. He also never expected her to be the cute florist working across the street from his tattoo parlor.

AN: A preview of the florist/tattoo artist soulmate au I’m working on. For Camp Riverdale themes soulmates and meet cute!

The pencil slips from Sweet Pea’s fingers and clatters onto the counter. “Shit,” he hisses, brows furrowing in annoyance as he shakes out his hand. A prick of pain lingers on the pad of his thumb, the dull, phantom ache of something that isn’t his. An echo. The pencil rolls off the counter and onto the floor before he can catch it, and he sighs, grumbling under his breath as he stoops to pick it up.

Joaquin pops his head out of his booth as Sweet Pea swears again loudly, eyes narrowed in confusion. “Everything okay out there, man?” he calls across the empty shop, rolling his chair into the main room. The other artist quirks a brow at the sour look Sweet Pea sends him, his lips twitching in amusement.

Sweet Pea waves him off. “Nothing. Soulmate,” he says shortly. He wiggles his fingers so Joaquin can see the already fading red mark on his thumb. “It’s like they fucking shove pins into their hands or something.”

Snorting obnoxiously, Joaquin leans back in his chair. “Must be payback for all those times you got your face busted up,” he jokes. “And all that ink. You must drive them up the wall.”

“Fuck off.” Sweet Pea rolls his eyes. Guilt shoots through him at Joaquin’s quip, but he shoves it down before it can linger.

Joaquin is right, of course. In high school Sweet Pea was definitely a troublemaker, picking fights all the time, even when he shouldn’t have. Black eyes, bruises, and bloody noses were the usual for him. Back then, he was too angry at the world and self-centered to ever think about how a set of bruised ribs might hurt someone else, and he thought being a member of the Southside Serpents meant he had to break himself. He really wouldn’t be surprised if his soulmate was pissed at him for all those years of phantom pain, even if it wasn’t always his fault.

Sensation sharing can be a bitch sometimes.

He still gets into fights, of course. It comes with being a member of the Serpents here in Riverdale. Between territory wars and drugs it’s something they can’t avoid, but he tries not to lose his temper as much as he used to. It helps that things have settled recently. Things will always be tense in Riverdale, but there’s tentative peace between the local gangs.

Joaquin is right about the ink though. After high school he started his apprenticeship with Micah, the Serpents primary tattoo artist. He’d always been a bit of an artist, and under Micah’s watch he’s become damn good with a tattoo gun. Sweet Pea’s been working for the older Serpent for over five years now at his shop on the Southside, Black Velvet Ink and Piercings.

He must drive his soulmate absolutely crazy with all the tattoos he’s gotten over the years.

Sweet Pea’s fingers brush against the side of his neck, absentmindedly tracing the double-headed snake inked there. The first tattoo he ever got was right after he was initiated into the Serpents at fifteen and he hasn’t looked back since. Most of his torso is inked, and his left arm is covered in a full sleeve, of mostly Asian inspired designs. Koi fish. A geisha. Chinese calligraphy running along his left side. A dragon on his arm. His style has always been black and grey. Bold.

That is, all aside from the soft, wispy, cherry blossoms between his shoulder blades. His soul mark.

It’s a pretty thing. A dark branch and a cluster of pale pink blossoms and smaller buds. More delicate and feminine than anything he would have picked for himself, and he wanted to hate it at first, because it was bright and beautiful and everything he didn’t deserve, but he can’t help but be fond of the little thing that showed up one morning when he was sixteen.

His hand drops from the tattoo on his neck and he looks back at the design laid out in front of him, delicate stalks of peonies all woven together across the page. It’s a rough sketch and there isn’t a flow to the design, but he just can’t get the damn thing right. None of the pictures he’s been looking at have the right dimension for what he wants.

Shaking his head, Sweet Pea shoves the sketchbook away and closes his laptop. With a sigh, he leans back on his stool, stretching out his back until there’s a satisfying series of pops.

Joaquin gets up from his chair and walks up behind the desk, looking at the sketch over Sweet Pea’s shoulder. “Peonies still giving you trouble?” he asks, cocking his head as he squints down at the design. Sweet Pea makes a low sound of agreement. “When do you need the design ready?”

Sweet Pea spins one of the rings decorating his fingers and looks over the drawing again, mouth pulled into a frown. “The appointment isn’t for a week, but you know how picky people can be. I need this draft done by tonight.”

“You know your mom’s shop is literally across the street, right?” he reminds Sweet Pea, jerking his chin towards the front windows and the florist shop across the street. “You could just go ask to look at some peonies.” Sweet Pea stills and Joaquin sends him a sly look, suddenly teasing. “Or is there a reason you don’t want to go over there.”

“I’m working,” Sweet Pea tells him immediately, gaze drifting across the street. Immediately, he catches sight of the pretty flower girl that his mom hired at the beginning of the summer. Small and thin, with dark hair pulled into a braid dangling over one of her shoulders. There’s something magnetic about the way she moves and he always ends up staring like a creep. Especially when he gets a glimpse of those long legs that would look fantastic with some ink tracing up her thigh. He can almost picture a winding vine of flowers creeping across her skin.

“Working my ass.” Joaquin rolls his eyes, following Sweet Pea’s gaze out the front window to the girl working in the shop. “You’re just too scared to talk to the hot new girl.”

Ripping his gaze from the pretty brunette, Sweet Pea sends Joaquin a look. “I am not,” he says, like a liar. Joaquin crosses his arms and leans his hip against the counter, expression smug. “Fuck off, Joaquin,” Sweet Pea grumbles, making the other man chuckle. “I’m going to go get some coffee.” He closes his laptop and stands, swiping his keys and wallet off the counter and shoving them into his pockets. He leaves his jacket on the chair.

“You mean go ogle the new girl?” Joaquin calls after him. “And get me a latte!”

Sweet Pea flips him the bird as he steps through the glass doors.

[chuffyfan87]

Growing Pains. Part 13b

"What shall we do now? It's just you and me this morning."

“I don’t know, what would you like to do?”

"What's something you like to do? We don't get much time just us these days. I'm game for practically anything so long as I don't need to use my left hand."

“Can we just go for a walk? And talk? Sit in the park, it’s a nice day.”

"Sure. Lead the way." She smiled.

Jake and Duffy went for a walk, going to the park.

"Its been such a long time since I last just walked around this park." Duffy smiled.

“We should do it more often.”

"We should. How are things at college?"

“They’re ok.”

"Have you had any further thoughts about what you want to do after you finish college in a couple of months?"

He shook his head, “No idea. I think I’m going to get a job somewhere and save up to go travelling.”

"OK. Sounds like quite an adventure."

“I think it would be nice.”

"Would you go on your own?"

“I’d like Krystal to come with me but I think she has her own plans for the future.”

"What are her plans?"

“To get an apprenticeship.”

"Oh wow! What's she thinking of apprenticing in?"

“Piercing and tattooing.”

"Um... OK..." Duffy forced a smile.

“I know you don’t really approve of her but she’s great.”

"She's... Just not what I expected that's all. But if she makes you happy that's the most important thing."

“She’s unique. Definitely unique.” He laughed gently.

"At what point are we going to get to meet her family?" Duffy enquired.

“You want to meet her family?”

"Well it would be nice to."

“Maybe I can ask Krystal.”

"OK. If you're serious about her then it would be nice for us all to meet. That's all."

“I am serious about her.”

"That's good. I'm glad you've found someone special."

“She’s special.” He smiled brightly. “I was scared for a while.”

"What of?"

“That I’d be like Andrew and hurt her.”

"Oh sweetheart! You'll never be like him. You're a million times the man he ever could be." She squeezed his shoulder.

He smiled, “That’s because of dad. He has his faults but he’s a good dad.” He was referring to Charlie of course.

"He is." She smiled. "I do wish he was your father." She admitted.

“He is. You don’t need to be blood to be related.”

"But if you were we wouldn't have to go through all of this." She sighed, sitting down on a nearby bench.

He sat down next to her, “You loved him though. And you were scared, still are.”

"Which must make me look really weak and pathetic. The man sat in that room today wasn't the man I fell for when I first met him. He changed."

“No mum, it doesn’t. The only person who is weak and pathetic is him. Not you. When did it start?”

"The violence?"

“All of it.”

"He was so charming when we first met. The suave sophisticated doctor. Such a cliché I know." She chuckled.

“It really annoys me that even after all this time, he still has such an effect on you.”

"Too much exposure for too long." She sighed.

He moved closer to his mum. “You know at Christmas, when he came round and starting shouting the odds? When me and Peter punched him?”

"How could I forget.?!" She remarked, her eyebrow raised.

“I remember when I was younger and how dad used to always protect us by telling us to go and play in another room.”

"I had hoped you'd been too young to remember that." She sighed.

“Just like he did with Oli and Paul that Christmas.”

"Peter told me that he hid you under the bed several times when you were a toddler too."

“He did?”

"When the shouting got so loud that he could hear upstairs." She whispered.

Jake kissed his mum’s cheek. “I never understand why you’d want to hurt the person you love.”

"Maybe he never loved me. Not really." She sighed.

“Not the way dad does anyway.”

"I think you're right about that." Her expression brightened slightly.

“It’s kinda cute.”

"So I'm told." She chuckled. "I think I'm getting a little old too old to be considered cute anymore though."

“Nuh huh, you and dad are cute together. Especially when I catch him just staring at you with that look in his eye.”

"You mean the expression that makes him look a little bit gormless?" She giggled.

“Yeah that one.”

"He's always had that look about him as long as I've known him!"

“The look of love?”

"If that's what you want to call it."

Jake laughed gently. “Fancy a coffee?”

"You buying?" She chuckled.

“Yeah.”

"Then I'd love one thanks."

“Come on then.”

They headed towards a local cafe but just as they were about to enter Duffy tugged on Jake's arm and pointed to a couple stood on the street corner further up the road kissing. "That's Sarah!" She gasped. "But that's certainly not Peter with her!" She frowned, “Is that AJ?”

Jake hesitated.

"Is that AJ?" She asked again, shooting her son a glare.

“Yes.”

Duffy moved to confront Sarah, her face distorted with anger.

“Mum,” Jake tried to stop her.

"Sarah! Fancy seeing you here." Duffy declared as she drew nearer, a fake smile now painted on her face.

“Hi,” Sarah smiled as she moved her hand from AJ.

"I don't think we've been introduced." Duffy added, turning towards AJ.

“I’m AJ.” He introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you AJ, I'm Lisa. I've known Sarah since she was a teenager. I see congratulations are in order for both of you."

Jake winced at the sickly sweet tone to his mum's voice. This wasn't going to end well...

“Thanks, it wasn’t planned but what we both want, isn’t it Sarah?” AJ pulled her closer by her waist.

“Um...” Sarah swallowed.

"Children are a wonderful blessing." Duffy smiled. "When's the baby due?" She added.

“Um, AJ why don’t you go and grab me a drink? I’ll catch you up shortly?”

"Um... OK..." AJ replied before heading into the shop.

“It’s not what you think...” Sarah began.

"Really?" Duffy retorted sarcastically.

“Yes!”

"So what do you think I think this looks like?"

“That I’m stringing Peter along, which I’m not!”

"So why does AJ think that's his baby?"

“He knows there’s a possibility it isn’t his.”

"That's not what you told Peter."

“You’ve got no idea, ok?” Sarah began to get agitated.

"Oh I have every idea. You're lying to my son!" Duffy retorted, her voice beginning to raise in volume.

“I’m not!”

"You told him that you're carrying his baby!"

“I couldn’t tell him the truth.”

"He deserves the truth! You have turned his life upside down!"

Sarah shook her head frantically, “It’s not like that!!” She began, becoming more and more panicked.

"What is it like?!" Duffy pressed.

"Mum..!" Jake attempted to intercede.

Sarah swallowed, her breathing becoming heavier. “Leave it, please!” She begged.

"You have been determined to get your clutches into my boy for years. You've messed his head up so much! I can never forgive that!"

“I don’t know which one of them is the dad!” Sarah blurted out before she moved slightly to throw up.

Duffy immediately snapped into nurse mode. "Sarah? Are you in pain?" She asked, moving to check on the younger woman.

Sarah ignored the question and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I never meant to hurt anyone...” She said sadly.

"I know." Duffy sighed. "We need to get you checked over if you're not feeling well."

“I’m fine.” Sarah replied weakly but stumbled as she tried to walk away.

"Nope, we're going to the hospital. Jake can you get my car?" Duffy asked, throwing the keys at her son.

Jake caught the keys, “Yes mum! Won’t be long.” He called.

“I’m fine,” Sarah protested.

"Its better to be on the safe side. Do you have any pains?"

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

"You need to be checked over. How many weeks are you?"

“Twenty four weeks and four days. I’m fine, I don’t need to be checked over.”

Duffy saw Jake jerk her car to a stop beside them, narrowly avoiding hitting the kerb. "At least sit in the car so I can check you over properly?"

Sarah reluctantly agreed.

Once Sarah was sat on the back seat of the car Duffy ducked in beside her and began to press her hands against Sarah's bump, checking the position of the baby.

Sarah bit hard on her lower lip, it really hurt!

[boyoh]

maybe some of you know this about me, some of ya may not

i’ve worked at a piercing shop for the last like year and a half and for the longest time it was going to be my career

i was going to be a professional piercer

but as time has gone on, i realized how under-appreciated i am

how my knowledge and hard work is overlooked for the times when i’ve been very sick and need to take time to recover

i don’t have a great immune system, partially due to a lot of gatekeeping issues surrounding me medically transitioning at a younger age

i also work 2 jobs, i work full time at a really lovely pizza place, and part-time at the shop but i won’t have days off for weeks on end and that starts to take a toll on me

i called out of work today because i’ve been feeling sick and when i spoke to my manager at the shop, she just sounded disappointed in me, not realizing that i’m a human that needs time to rest and recover

need i remind you, i haven’t requested a day off or called in sick for MONTHS and i still get backlash for needing to recover

i am the longest-standing counter associate at this shop, one of the most knowledgeable people there aside from my piercers

i had an apprenticeship once upon a time and when i had a scheduling mix-up and was recovering from a cellulitis infection on my face, i had my hours cut drastically

i was working 5 days a week (still not getting full-time hours) and i got cut down to 3

when i was sick and had to call out so i could see my doctor i was told i was unreliable and made to feel like i was not a vital part of the team

for reference, i make $11/hour — 50¢ under california minimum wage for the number of employees at the shop

i don’t get lunch breaks, my boss just started allowing us 2x 15-minute breaks during the day but i get backlash from my piercers when i try to take that time to refresh myself and be the best i can be with customers

the whole point of me making this post is so i can vent

i get yelled at just about every shift, nobody else gets backlash for slacking on things or taking a moment to drink some water when someone walks in the door

i am underpaid and overworked without breaks

each month i make roughly $800 whereas the owner of my shop rakes in AT LEAST $40,000 a month from the shop alone

i have finally realized my worth

i’m worth more than $11/hour

i’m worth more than being denied breaks (which is illegal btw)

i’m worth more than the shit i get every day either at work or needing to take time for my body to recover from things in order to function at my best

thankfully, my other job is absolutely lovely

management actually cares about people, not numbers

they want to take care of me because they see my worth

i love supporting small businesses but i hate working for a tyrannical, conservative boss that does not see my worth

i am making this post because i’d like to start a new chapter in my life

my fiancé and i are moving, we plan to get married in the next year or two and have children within the next 5 years

i am glad to be starting anew, i am glad to be leaving an environment where i wrote off neglect for my well-being as “paying my dues”

i have paid my dues, i no longer have my apprenticeship and it was handed to somebody with MUCH less experience than myself

i am done paying dues to someone who does not see my worth, who sees my health as a hinderence and not a priority

i am thankful for the people in my life (especially my fiancé) who push me to be the happiest i can be and still take care of myself

because i matter more than a business, i matter more than less than minimum wage, i matter more than the ideal associate of my boss who wants me to be but a drone for her

[kakasaku-shipper]

Natural Progression (Chapter 1)

So... I have started on a new KakaSaku fic. I have no idea how long this fic will be or how things will get to the end point. Let’s see where this will lead us :)

Chapter 1

The war had finally ended. It only took three days to conclude the fourth great shinobi war, but for a relatively short war, everyone had been drained dry. Most did not have the opportunity to sleep even for just a second, nor the opportunity to fill up their stomachs with anything other than hyorogan, as the undead enemy army bombardment was ceaseless. The stress and anxiety of the agonizing months leading up to the horrible calamity also took a lot of toll on the shinobi. By the time the war was over, everyone was extremely exhausted, and despite the mourning which was to come from the losses they suffered, everyone allowed themselves to forget, just for a day, where they would celebrate life.

The village was buzzing with shinobi and civilians alike celebrating the victory against Madara Uchiha. Every ninja was flocking at the free alcohol distributed around for the celebration, and Sakura was possibly the only one in the whole village who was not chugging alcohol into her system. Instead, she sat quietly at the periphery of the celebration, watching people around her making merry and forgetting about all their troubling thoughts.

Sakura did understand why people turn to alcohol, letting go occasionally was healthy after all. During her three years apprenticeship with Tsunade, she had gotten drunk a few times with her shishou when things were especially difficult in the hospital. It was nice to be able to forget how utterly useless and helpless she had felt when she was not able to save a patient. It was nice to not have her inferiority complex resurface, to not have to think about how she could have saved her patient if she had more skills and chakra. It was nice to not have to cry herself to sleep.

However, today, she could not seem to let go of her thoughts. There were just too many things on her mind that she needed to address. The war posed too many questions to be answered.

As a teenager, Sakura was always very sure of herself. She was not always confident about her skills as a kunoichi, but she had always thought that the scope of her knowledge was leaps and bounds above her peers, and that she was just as wise as the adults around her. She had always thought that every mission she had agreed to take was the right mission to do, as they were missions which embodied justice.

But through the war she wondered, what was really the right ideal and the right thing to do? Obito and Madara started the war because they thought that a world of illusion was ideal, as there were no pain and suffering in that world. Just like war, every mission she took were missions that benefitted one side but harmed the opposing side. So which side was right? Every side fought to protect what they believed in, so which side’s ideals benefitted more people at the end? What right did she have to think that her side was more righteous than others? All shinobi obeyed the orders from their leaders. What justified her to attack them for their loyalty? What if it was her order that was wrong? What made it right for her to defend her ideals but destroy her opponents’?

Sakura was startled out of her reverie when she felt something cold pressed onto her cheek. “You know, a drink or two won’t kill you,” Kakashi told her as his eyes creased into a smile. She smiled weakly back at him as he took a seat next to her.

“I’m just not in the mood to drink, sensei,” Sakura sighed as she rested her chin on the bar counter. “Besides, why are you not drinking? Your liver is damaged enough from all those sharp objects piercing through it, some drinks won’t kill you,” Sakura asked as she gave him a playful grin. Kakashi chuckled and reached out to ruffle her hair.

“People are drinking because they are celebrating. I don’t see anything worth celebrating over,” Kakashi responded as he averted his eyes towards the crowd to avoid her gaze. He knew that she understood what he meant, but he just didn’t like the fact that his former student was getting better at reading him. After all, he had a reputation to uphold, the copy ninja - ever aloof and unreadeable. That, and the fact that he didn’t really want to talk about Obito, yet. It was hard enough seeing him being buried alive between those rocks years ago, but knowing that he was the cause Konoha suffered so many casualties over the years were more than heart wrenching. A part of him still blamed himself for causing Obito to change from one of the kindest people who had ever lived to become someone more vengeful than the revenge-driven Sasuke.

Sakura’s grin slipped at his reply. She knew how Kakashi-sensei felt about Obito. He was his old teammate; and she had heard about their story from a drunken Shizune. Shizune had told her that Kakashi-sensei was once a stuck-up pain in the ass who was worse than both Neji and Sasuke combined, and that all he cared about was completing the mission, even if he had to sacrifice a teammate to achieve it. It was Obito who had influenced Kakashi-sensei to adopt the principle of teamwork so closely to his heart.

Being the curious girl that she was, she had snuck into the file storage room to dig for more information about ‘Obito’. Her thirteen year old self had been so blinded by curiosity that she had not thought about how Kakashi might feel upon knowing that she had pried into his personal life without his knowledge or consent. She had also so naively thought that this great 'Obito’ person must still be around, since such a great shinobi like him must be just like her sensei - unbeatable even by death. Well, technically she was right, but at the time she figured out who Obito was and what had happened to him, her heart had ached with guilt, and overwhelming sadness. Upon discovering about Obito, she too learnt about Rin and the Yondaime Hokage. That day, Sakura left the storage room with tears running down her face; she had never expected her sensei’s life to be that tragic.

When Sasuke defected, she noticed that Kakashi-sensei had acted somewhat indifferent; a completely opposite reaction to hers and Naruto’s. She had thought that he simply did not care about Sasuke as much as she and Naruto had. Upon reading the file of Kakashi-sensei’s genin team, she regretfully realized how wrong she had been. Kakashi-sensei had only appeared to be indifferent because he knew that grieving or wallowing in self-pity like she had was not going to bring Sasuke back; neither will swearing to drag Sasuke back by crook or by hook. If the return was forced, Sasuke would just defect again without a care of his teammates like he had the first time.

Looking back, she realized that perhaps, Kakashi-sensei was the one who had actually suffered the most due to Sasuke’s action. Leaving the village had not only caused Kakashi-sensei to lose another precious person, but also rob him off his team for a second time, as Sasuke’s defection was the cause of team seven dissolving.

“You’re ruinning the mood, sensei,” Sakura grumbled to break the uneasy tension that was beginning to cloud over them. “Today is supposed to be a joyous day,” she muttered as she fixed him an exasperated look.

“Sorry,” Kakashi mumbled sheepishly as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Let’s spar,” Sakura suddenly announced as she got up from her seat. Kakashi’s puzzled look made her chuckle. “We are obviously miserable among this happy bunch. Why not take things off your mind the shinobi way?”

“Sure, but I would not hold back.”

“I will kill you if you do.”

…

Panting hard, Sakura collapsed into the ground with her back against cracks on the decimated training ground. Looking at Kakashi, she grumbled as she saw that he was doing so much better than she had. Sure, his breathing was ragged, and he was catching his breath on one of the craters she had created, but he had not looked as spent as she did. “This is so unfair. I’ve trained so hard for all these years and I couldn’t even land a hit on you, and you don’t even look that tired!” Sakura exclaimed in exasperation

“I guess having the sharingan all these years has its use. Although I can’t predict movements as well as when I had it, I could still make intelligent guesses based on experience on where the next blow would come. But as I had expected, my foresight would not be enough to attempt using chidori in a real combat.”

“You were trying to pull a chidori on me? I thought we agreed that this was going to be a taijutsu spar!” Sakura gaped at Kakashi in disbelief. How dare he broke the rule they had agreed on? And chidori is a dangerous jutsu! Sure, he would not use it with the intent to kill but still, raiton is an extra pain since the left-over electric current would linger and sting even after the wound was healed.

Kakashi chuckled at her reaction as he walked towards her. She graciously accepted the hand he offered and relied on him to pull her up off the ground. “I was not even planning to use the chidori at all. But as I fought you, I realised that there was a significant drop in how I could foresee my enemy’s movements, and so chidori would be out of the question from now on, unless I’m killing an immobile target or if I have my path cleared from any potential ambushes,” Kakashi explained. As he did some post-spar stretching, he winced as he pulled on a particular sore spot.

“Did I manage to land a hit?” Sakura asked enthusiastically as she promptly healed the part Kakashi was rubbing on.

“Wasn’t a hit, but I over stretched myself trying to avoid your kick. I had a miscalculation in the beginning of the spar. It was so much harder reading your attacks without the sharingan.”

“That, and maybe I’m just getting much better,” Sakura said teasingly.

“Yes. You have come leaps and bounds even since that second bell test,” Kakashi commented nonchalantly as he ruffled her hair, making Sakura blush. He may have said it just like he was stating a fact, completely devoid of any hints of praise, but the fact that he said it meant that it must have been true. After all, Kakashi was the sort of man who never complimented or degraded another, he was the sort who only gave credit when it was due.

“It’s getting late. You should have some rest, I’m sure that you would be needed in the hospital tomorrow,” Kakashi said as he began to walk out of the training ground. Not wanting to be left behind, Sakura picked up her speed to walk alongside her ex-sensei.

“You know, sensei, since you just lost your sharingan, even though your performance is still no doubt a few nothes above most jonin, as your self-declared medic, I would not recommend you taking the more dangerous missions.. You will need time to re-adjust,” Sakura lectured as they walked towards the main street of the village. While Kakashi managed to avoid all her attacks and was not panting as hard as she did after the spar, she had seen a drop in his reaction time. It wasn’t much, and against normal shinobi it would not even matter, but if he was up against a large group, or someone as experience as he was, or as proficient at taijutsu as Gai-sensei, he no doubt would have a lot of difficulties in battle.

“I know, Sakura.”

“You always said you know it but you’re extremely stubborn! You will still take those dangerous missions. You need someone to remind and nag you about it all the time. You and Naruto are the same” She chided.

Kakashi winced at her words. Surely, he was not as stubborn as Naruto to be grouped together in such regards? Clearing his throat, Kakashi defended himself, “well, if only things are that simple, but even in this peaceful era there are still going to be demands for high ranking missions..”

“Let someone else do it,” Sakura cut him tersely. “The burden of the village does not rest solely on your shoulders. We have other capable shinobi too, you know.”

“I know. But sometimes, they requested for me specifically for those high-ranking missions.”

“But you’re not going to be ready for at least a month!”

“They wouldn’t care, Sakura. To them, we shinobi are just tools. Plus, because of the war and all the destructions Konoha suffered, we need all the money we can get. We can’t afford to be picky right now,” Kakashi explained as he smiled at her. “I know you care about me, about everyone. But don’t worry too much. I’ve always came back up until now. I’m not going to break my record just yet,” Kakashi grinned behind his mask as he tried to ruffle her hair again. Sakura was quick enough to evade his hand and gave him a pout. After a moment of silence lapsed between them, Sakura got an idea.

“In that case, with Gai-sensei unable to be your training partner until he recovers, Naruto and Sasuke not needing further taijutsu trainings, let me be your taijutsu sparring partner from now on,” Sakura pleaded with a determined look in her eyes.

“Well, if you insist. I can’t really object a medic’s expert opinion..” Kakashi said teasingly as his eyes creased. “And since you are going to be my taijutsu sparring partner, it would only be fair for me to teach you genjutsu,” Kakashi continued as he turned away from her, resuming his trek home.

“Wait, sensei! I don’t need that!” Sakura blurted out. “It’s not that I don’t want to learn new things, but I don’t need any kind of repayment from you, I just want to help!”

“I know, Sakura. But I’m doing this for me as well.”

“Eh?”

“You see, among my three students, you are the only one I never dedicated my time to. When all of you were still genin, I focused most of my attention to Sasuke, especially after the incident with Orochimaru. After Naruto came back from his trip, I focused on him to create his rasen-shuriken. But you, all this time, I have failed you as a teacher. This would be my time to make it right,” Kakashi explained quietly, eyes averted from hers in guilt. Kakashi always felt like he had failed Sakura, for leaving her out all these years. But back then, when he as newly appointed as a genin instructor, he was still summoned for A or S ranked missions frequently because he was one of very few people who were capable of taking non-ANBU missions of such calibre, and he was also still occasionally be contacted ANBU to carry out unofficial ANBU missions.

“It wasn’t your fault, sensei. For you to still be able to advise on what I should improve on back then was already quite the feat. With you having to babysit both Naruto and Sasuke as well..”

Kakashi’s lips quirk up into a small smile, and as he glanced at Sakura’s mirthful expression, a small chuckle managed to break out from him.

“That’s one way of putting what a troublesome genin team I was assigned to..”

“I know right? They behaved like little kids all the time,” Sakura added with a laugh.

“They still behave like kids up until now,” Kakashi replied with a wry grin. At Sakura’s confused expression, Kakashi explained, “I saw Naruto and Sasuke having a drunken spat at the Uchiha compound just before I came to the bar. Naruto had smuggled a bottle of sake and brought it over to the confinement area. I think he wanted to watch and make fun of a drunk Sasuke which kinda backfire..”

At that Sakura laughed, but as she pictured the drunken brawl in her head, she snapped her attention back to Kakashi. “Wait, are they hurt? Are they ok? Did they destroy anything?” Sakura felt a rising sense of panic. She had barely started making an outline for their prosthetic hands, and those idiots had torn apart another limb?

“They were too drunk to use chakra,” Kakashi informed her reassuringly. “They’ll probably spot some nasty bruises and swellings tomorrow though.”

“Serve them right,” Sakura interjected. “And I’m not going to heal them. They can find another medic.”

“Naruto would probably be healed by the first medic who he comes across. Sasuke though..”

“Ino or Hinata-chan would probably be nice enough to help him, if he asks nicely.”

“Hmm.. Then we can expect Sasuke sporting those bruises for the next couple of weeks,” Kakashi hummed.

“Like I said, serve him right. Especially for leaving all of us before.”

Kakashi nodded in agreement as he stole a glance on Sakura. She did not look upset at all, only annoyed. He had thought that talking about Sasuke’s defection may still be a taboo among his two students, but apparently, with Sasuke finally coming back, or the events leading to the war or the war itself forcing them to mature much quicker than they should, Sasuke’s wayward ways was just another topic of conversation now.

As they reached the intersection that leads them to their respective apartment, Kakashi spoke, “so I’ll see you after your shift tomorrow?”

“Yep! And don’t be late! Or else..”

At that Kakashi chuckled and disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving a fuming Sakura who stomped her way home.

…

A/N

1. This story is designed to be a slow-burn, and I want to make it a story of what Kakashi does before he become Hokage, when he’s the Hokage and what he does when he retired. Basically the fic will be focused on Kakashi’s reign. It will also tie in with how Sakura expand the hospital services and establish the children’s therapy centre (Cue Sakura Hiden)

2. I will be writing the fic mostly from Kakashi and Sakura’s perspective. But there would be other characters too, mainly Sasuke. He will be an interesting character in this fic ;)

3. Update to this fic will be very erratic because my life revolves around school schedule*cries*

4. Enjoy! And I appreciate all the reviews I can get <3

5. Chapter 2 is updated as of April 2019

[toabyssandbeyond]

Getting into witchcraft&witchery journal day #14:

personal notes but feel free to read

Tarot reading about my deities&descriptions of them afterwards:

So since last time I shared my thoughts here, I started my Grimoire and have built 3 altars for the three deities I worship... but seeing as our connection have changed drastically over the years I wanted to get to know them better. I decided to make a tarot spread (1st image), only that instead of asking randomly, I decided to ask each at their own turn.

note: if you’ve read my last entry about the deities I worship you’ll know that they aren’t known by others and are pretty much private, although they have parallels in other religions.

First was the deity I call Lady Fate. This is one I believed in since pre-school as this was my interpretation of god... An entity that pre-decides people’s destinies or at least the major milestones.

1. The entity: King of Swords

The King of Swords is a symbol of intellectual power and authority, and has the courage and intellect to accomplish all that he desires. He represents judgement, command, and rulership. His character indicates the stern leadership of a judge, lawyer, or military commander whose emotions must be kept in check under the pressure of battle.

(which you could or could not say fits a deity of fate/destiny...)

2. Their history: Page of Wands

The Page of Wands is similar to the Fool in that he is a free spirit who represents change and new beginnings. He has a true passion for life, despite his understanding of this world is not yet fully developed. He has not yet been weighed down by the burdens of the material world, coming and going as he pleases, and usually encouraging change wherever he goes. He is like the catalyst that inspires changes that might be impossible in any other situation.

3. Past Influences & experiences: Eight of Pentacles

The Eight of Pentacles is a card of apprenticeship and mastery. When this card appears in a Tarot reading, you are working hard to improve your skills and become a master at what you do. You may have recently changed your work, education or financial circumstances, and now you are applying your sheer determination and concentration to master the new skill that you are learning.

4. Personality, attitude & opinions: King of Swords (I mean... yeah it’s the same as the 1st question XD)

5. Their current status: Six of Wands

The Six of Wands is all about success, victory and public recognition. Not only have you succeeded in achieving your goals, you are now being publicly acknowledged for your efforts and your results.

6. Their health overall: Ten of Swords

The Ten of Swords usually symbolises a sudden and unexpected failure or disaster, whereby a power beyond your control crushes you without warning or mercy.

7. Their mental health: Death XIII

After a period of pause and reflection with the Hanged Man, the Death card symbolises the end of a major phase or aspect of your life that you realise is no longer serving you, opening up the possibility of something far more valuable and essential. You must close one door to open another.

8. What they like to do & have done for them: Page of Swords

This card shows you as a young and idealistic person, with lots of plans and ideas for the future. At this moment, you feel as though you could do almost anything. As a Page, you are just beginning to make your way in life, and it is important that you align with others who will not overwhelm you or stifle your direction and ideas. Instead, seek to align yourself with people who will nurture your ideas and will help you to manifest them in an organised manner. Choose a relationship that feels natural, with someone who will learn and grow along with you and give you a chance to develop your own personality and expression. You have an intelligent and sensitive nature, and you may suffer a lot if there is no outlet for your ideas and feelings.

(aw come on you’ll make me cry...)

9. Physical manifestation: Six of Cups

In the Six of Cups, a young boy leans down and passes a cup filled with flowers to a younger girl. The girl looks up to the boy with love and respect as he offers the flowers to her. Love, harmony and co-operation – all key elements of the Six of Cups – shine through this gentle act. The young children also represent childhood memories

The Six of Cups invites you to get in touch with your inner child and experience the fun, freedom and innocence that comes with being a young child again.

10. What to know: Ten of Pentacles

When the Ten of Pentacles appears in a Tarot reading, you are surrounded by wealth and are blessed with financial abundance. There is no ‘wanting’ any more – you have everything you need, especially within the material realm. You feel financially secure and trust that, as a result of your personal successes and accomplishments, you will always have what you need and desire. You express deep gratitude for fulfilling your material goals and dreams.

11. What to avoid: Ace of Swords

When the Ace of Swords appears in a Tarot reading, it is an excellent time to start a new project that needs your intellect, communication skills and mental power. You may be inspired to take a writing class, practice your public speaking skills, or get involved in activities that require more brain power than usual.

(so... I should avoid starting new projects?...)

12. Positive influences, friends or experiences: Six of Wands (yeah I guess this is the same question as no.5)

13. Negative influences, enemies or experiences: Three of Cups

The Three of Cups often indicates a very sociable period – perhaps a birthday, a wedding, the holiday season or a vacation with friends. See it as your opportunity to let your hair down and forget about your day-to-day commitments and obligations for a while. Instead, spend quality time with friends and family and enjoy yourself!

(so... bad influences in social situations? Or made enemies in social situations?... Not too sure...)

14. Conscious desires & thoughts: Ten of Cups

The Ten of Cups embodies happiness, joy, and emotional contentment, particularly in your relationships and family. You have created an abundance of love and happiness in your life, and you now share this love with others, expanding your heart even more.

15. Unconscious desires & thoughts: The Empress III

The Empress signifies abundance. You are surrounded by life’s pleasures and luxuries and have everything you need to live a comfortable lifestyle. You are in a period of growth, in which all you have dreamed of is now coming to fruition.

16. Hopes: Queen of Cups

The Queen of Cups is nurturing, caring, compassionate and sensitive. When you see her in a Tarot reading, you are embodying her ‘nurturing mother’ energy. You support others by listening with your heart, being compassionate, and caring for them deeply. You are empathic and can sense the needs of others by tuning in to your intuition, and you hold the space for others to express their emotions and be the truest, most authentic versions of themselves.

17. Fears: The Sun XIX

In the foreground, a young, naked child is sitting on top of a calm white horse. The child represents the joy of being connected with your inner spirit, and his nakedness is a sign he has nothing to hide and has all the innocence and purity of childhood. The white horse is also a sign of purity and strength. 

(”The child represents the joy of being connected with your inner spirit“... I really hope it doesn’t mean what I think it means...)

So, exactly as I’ve always imagined her, Lady Fate is generally a young deity who’ve worked hard to be at the status she is right now. She wants me to know that I’m not lacking anything and should take control of my life and surround myself by like-minded people... Her health and mental health have taken a hit, and all she wants and hopes for is to be in a place of joy and emotional contentment as well as to be feminine, and to be a nurturing mother... Her physical manifestation seems to be a child. Now I hope that this is not how it looks, but she seems to dislike me connecting with my “inner spirit”... more on that later.

(side note- my heart was pounding extremely hard the entire time I was doing this reading and once I finished it calmed down and now I’m freezing...)

Next is going to be a deity I call Luck. I guess the equivalent in other religions would be Karma, or even “Balance”. (You’ll notice that I frequently refer to Luck as “it” or “them”... somehow their gender was never established...)

1. The entity: King of Wands

The King of Wands represents pure fire energy. Unlike the other Wands court cards, he is not so interesting in actual creation and creativity, or in dreaming up ideas and implementing them himself. Instead, he is more inclined to take an idea and change the world to match his vision. As such he is a natural-born leader of all kinds of people, and he is very visionary.

(That’s... actually extremely fitting, especially when you remember how many people believe in karma... Also another part stated that it loves challenges and adrenaline which from my experience is 100% right...)

(note: fire energy)

2. Their history: Three of Swords

When the Three of Swords appears in a Tarot reading, it is sign that you are feeling deeply hurt and disappointed. Your heart has been pierced with these three swords, through others’ hurtful words, actions and intention, and they have inflicted intense emotions of pain, sadness, grief, and heartbreak. These events feel even more painful because they are often unexpected and come out of the blue.

3. Past Influences & experiences: King of Cups

The King of Cups embodies the perfect balance between the executive and the heart. Not only are you able to assess and manage a situation logically, but you can also draw upon your intuition and understanding of human interactions. As a leader, you care as much about achieving your goals and objectives as you do about making sure everyone is happy and engaged along the way.

(So balance between logic and feelings as well... hm okay.)

4. Personality, attitude & opinions: Death XIII

The Death card has elements of a sudden and unexpected change. Death happens to everyone, no matter who you are, how much money you have, where you live, or what colour your skin is; it is the same with a significant change. So, the Death card can be a sign you may feel as though you are caught in the path of sweeping change and cannot escape its effects.

(an unexpected deity that acts suddenly and without a warning, it doesn’t who or what you are, it’ll find you. That’s luck/karma for ya)

5. Their current status: The High Priestess II

The High Priestess signifies spiritual enlightenment, inner illumination, divine knowledge and wisdom. She shows up in your Tarot readings when the veil between you and the underworld is thin, and you have the opportunity to access the knowledge deep within your soul. Now is the time to be still so you can tune in to your intuition.

6. Their health overall: The Tower XVI

Just when you think you’re safe and comfortable, a Tower moment hits and throws you for a loop. A lightning bolt of clarity and insight cuts through the lies and illusions you have been telling yourself, and now the truth comes to light. Your world may come crashing down before you, in ways you could never have imagined as you realise that you have been building your life on unstable foundations – false assumptions, mistruths, illusions, blatant lies, and so on.

7. Their mental health: The Star XVII

The Star brings renewed hope and faith, and a sense that you are truly blessed by the Universe. You are entering a peaceful, loving phase in your life, filled with calm energy, mental stability and more in-depth understanding of both yourself and others around you. This is a time of significant personal growth and development as you are now ready to receive the many blessings of the Universe.

8. What they like to do & have done for them: The Star XVII

(... likes others doing what they have been doing? Have hope and faith.)

9. Physical manifestation: Four of Cups

Sometimes this card brings the message, ‘Not now, but maybe later.’ While the man in the Four of Cups doesn’t accept the cups offered to him, he doesn’t wholly reject them either. You may be waiting for a sign or further information before taking an invitation or new project. Check in emotionally and spiritually before you say ‘yes’, to make sure the opportunity is a good fit and that you can commit to it in the long-term.

10. What to know: The Chariot VII

Now isn’t the time to be passive in the hope that things will work out in your favour. Take focused action and stick to the course, no matter what challenges may come your way – because, believe me, there will be challenges. You may be pulled in opposite directions and find your strength and conviction tested. Others may try to block you, distract you, or drag down the pursuit of your goal.

11. What to avoid: The Devil XV

The Devil card often appears when you have been tricked into thinking you have no control over your shadow self or these negative forces, and that you can never break free from their hold.

12. Positive influences, friends or experiences: Four of Wands

With the Four of Wands, it is the perfect time to get together with your family and friends and to celebrate all the wonderful times that you have had together. Often, this card reflects the holiday period where you get together with the extended family and join in a celebration. Alternatively, it may be as simple as inviting your closest friends over for an intimate dinner and a few glasses of nice wine.

13. Negative influences, enemies or experiences: Page of Wands

(... this is the same that I got for Fate’s history... Do they have a bad history with each other?)

14. Conscious desires & thoughts: Nine of Wands

The Nine of Wands is like the one last test or challenge before you can reach ultimate success. You feel as if you have come to the end of your fighting powers but you have the skill and determination in reserve. You are in a position of strength and by drawing upon all of your courage and abilities, you will prevail. Once the last obstacle is overcome, you are home free.

15. Unconscious desires & thoughts: Ten of Swords

The Ten of Swords usually symbolises a sudden and unexpected failure or disaster, whereby a power beyond your control crushes you without warning or mercy.

(same as Fate’s current overall health... did they want that to happen?)

16. Hopes: Two of Swords

The Two of Swords indicates that you are facing a challenging decision but you are unclear about which option to take. Both options may seem equally as good – or as bad – as each other, and you are stumped about which option will lead you to the best outcomes.

17. Fears: Six of Swords

The Six of Swords invites you to let go of whatever it is that is holding you back, be it from your past or your present circumstances. Instead look to your future and choose the best option that is most in alignment with your Highest Good and long-term potential.

So... this was interesting. Luck is a leader, knowledgeable, who likes challenges. It has been deeply disappointed/hurt but is now learning to have hope and trust in the future, and it wants others to do the same and take action. It seems to have a bad past with Fate and could even be involved in the reason of her current health. They appear as a man who’s given an opportunity (it’s also what they hope for) but doesn’t take it yet, as their fears are of moving forwards and letting go of what is holding them back.

(note- been cold the entire time of doing this reading, finished and now it’s super hot in here...??)

Next and last deity is my guardian angel, he’s been the easiest to communicate with since he appeared (when I was 15) but it doesn’t look like he wants me to communicate with other deities... And that’s why I want to do this reading, maybe he’ll explain me what is going on this way... (I’m keeping his name off tumblr intentionally)

1. The entity: Page of Cups

As each Page asks you to explore a new facet of yourself, the Page of Cups is asking you to explore your creative, emotional self. You may start a new art class, read books about how to express your feelings, or learn more about developing your psychic abilities. Dreamy aspirations race through your mind, and you may find yourself moved by simple things. Don’t be afraid to let your feelings show and wear your heart on your sleeve.

(well, out of the three he is the one I generally consider as a part of my being. That and also I’ve became a lot more creative and my psychic abilities developed a lot since he appeared...)

2. Their history: Queen of Cups

The Queen of Cups says you are highly intuitive, creative, and in flow with the surrounding energies. In your interactions with others, you can easily read other people to get a sense of how to communicate effectively, enabling you both to feel heard and understood. Others may come to you to confide their personal issues regarding relationships, emotions and feelings. They trust you and know that you always have the right solution. You can instantly tune in to what others are going through and can help them make sense of it. You may be a healer, counsellor or intuitive coach; or maybe just a good friend. You recognise the Divine in everyone you meet.

(also the card I got for what Fate hopes for...)

3. Past Influences & experiences: The Emperor IV

As the father figure of the Tarot deck, the Emperor suggests that you are adopting this fatherly role (regardless of whether you are male or female), providing for your family, and protecting and defending your loved ones. You may be the breadwinner or the ‘rock’ for those who rely on your stability and security.

4. Personality, attitude & opinions: Six of Cups

The Six of Cups invites you to get in touch with your inner child and experience the fun, freedom and innocence that comes with being a young child again.

(was also Fate’s physical manifestation hmmm...)

5. Their current status: Six of Swords

The Six of Swords indicates that you are in a state of transition, leaving behind what was familiar and comfortable and moving towards the unknown. You might be moving house, leaving a relationship, changing jobs, going through a rite of passage or feeling a mental shift of some kind. This change may be as a result of your doing, or forced upon you. You may feel sad and upset to leave behind what is so familiar to you, however you know that this move is essential for your growth and personal development.

(also what luck is afraid of)

6. Their health overall: Queen of Wands

The Queen of Wands is the dominant feminine energy of the element of Fire. She is highly energetic and leads a busy and active life. She radiates health and vitality and has an inner vibrancy that fills her with ongoing energy and inspiration. This Queen is a natural-born, intelligent leader who actively inspires others.

(note: Also fire element, like luck.)

7. Their mental health: The Hanged Man XII

When the Hanged Man appears in a Tarot reading, your projects and activities may be coming to an unexpected and abrupt halt. Don’t keep pushing forward, hoping that more force will drive you to where you want to go. Instead, surrender to the opportunity to pause and view it as your chance to reassess and re-evaluate where you are on your path.

8. What they like to do & have done for them: Nine of Wands

You may have experienced setbacks that now leave you feeling distrustful of others or even yourself. The turning point will come when you are able to leave the past behind you and to cultivate a more open mind about the future. While you have experienced losses in the past, it does not mean that you have to experience further losses in the future. Turn a new leaf and push on.

(Also Luck’s desire)

9. Physical manifestation: The Hermit IX

The Hermit stands alone on the top of a mountain. The snow-capped range symbolises his spiritual mastery, growth and accomplishment. He has chosen this path of self-discovery and, as a result, has reached a heightened state of awareness.

(more or less how I envision him as it is...)

10. What to know: Ten of Wands

The Tens in Tarot represent the completion of a cycle, and thus with the Ten of Wands, you have reached the end of a cycle after a period of struggle. You are finally reaping your rewards after investing a lot of hard work and effort. You have fulfilled a creative venture, realised a dream or accomplished a major goal, and now must deal with the consequences of that fulfilment.

This card can also mean that you are being oppressed by outside sources. You are over-worked, over-tired and over-stimulated. You have more on your plate than you can possibly handle and you have taken on too much at this point in time. In an effort to get to the finish line, you have found yourself overwhelmed with the extra responsibility and activity. You need to stop working so hard.

11. What to avoid: Justice XI

The Justice card represents justice, fairness, truth and the law. You are being called to account for your actions and will be judged accordingly. If you have acted in alignment with your Higher Self and for the greater good of others, you have nothing to worry about. However, if you haven’t, you will be called out and made to own up to your actions. If this has you shaking in your boots, know that the Justice card isn’t as black and white as you may think. A level of compassion and understanding accompany Justice, and although you may have done something you regret, this card suggests that you will be treated fairly and without bias. Be ready to take responsibility for your actions and stand accountable for the ensuing consequences.

12. Positive influences, friends or experiences: Six of Wands

The Six of Wands is such positive encouragement to believe in who you are and your accomplishments so far. Have faith in what you have personally achieved and how this will be received by others. Do not let fear or guilt stand in the way of your success. You ought to feel proud of what you have achieved and not afraid to hold your head up high and feel worthy of others’ attention.

13. Negative influences, enemies or experiences: Knight of Cups

When it comes to making decisions, the Knight of Cups is ruled by his emotions and his heart. When this card arrives in a Tarot reading, you are making decisions based on how you feel about a situation rather than what you think, even if others can’t make sense of what you are doing and why, and your intuition guides you in everything you do.

(which is interesting... because that’s the card I usually get as my representation...)

14. Conscious desires & thoughts: Six of Cups

(same as personality, attitude & opinions. Also Fate’s physical manifestation.)

15. Unconscious desires & thoughts: Seven of Cups

Often, the Seven of Cups can be a sign of wishful thinking and projecting into the future about what you would like to create, rather than taking action here in the present to make it happen.

16. Hopes: Temperance XIV

This card calls on you to remain calm, even when life feels stressful or frantic. Maintain an even temperament and manage your emotions. You have learned to keep composed in stressful situations.

17. Fears:  Eight of Wands

This card is a sign to ‘strike while the iron is hot’. It is most definitely an action-oriented card that encourages you to move quickly to pursue the best opportunities available right now. There is no waiting around while the Eight of Wands is present so determine where your energy will be directed and get on with it!

Honestly? I feel like I already knew all of these. My guardian angel is one that wants peace, is very wishful in his thinking but doesn’t want to take action. He wants me to be creative and keep that childish hope alive but also there’s a possibility that knowing me is a bad experience for him(?). His origin seems to have something to do with Lady Fate, and it looks like originally they had the same desires/goals. His mental health seems to be “on halt” and I also noticed it lately, but his overall health is pretty good. He wants me/us to avoid justice, to not be put to curt... I can only imagine that it’s because I believe in “personal” deities, we’ve been worried for a while how other, stronger deities, would react to that... and now I know- he’s mentioned in both Fate’s and Luck’s fears- “connecting with my inner spirit” in Fate’s and mentioning his status in Luck’s. 

My deities don’t get along. Great. -_-

Also my zodiac, palm, only crystal, and two deities are of fire energies...

Oh and I had to promise Luck that I’ll be productive tomorrow so that it’ll answer me... oh boy.

[bashfulmusician]

@cillpiines came up with the idea for a ghost au, then we both started having ideas, and finally angst happened. So. Much. Angst. So now I’m in a rare angst-writing mood. And here I present some angst for my friend and anyone who wants to read it. 

Quick warning for main character death. Nothing too graphic, but he dead. This is also pretty sad.

“Heart and Soul”

It was dark when he died. Cold. The alley walls stood tall and looming over his small, silent form. But silence was not unknown to him.

The victim was pronounced dead on the scene. The police that ran the investigation suspected the serial killer ‘Jack’ – who had been picking off victims almost randomly for years. It was said that a flash of silver was your only warning before his knife landed in your chest.

He had been dead since 2 am. Before his heart finally stopped, he had lain silent and pale in the dark alleyway for at least an hour. The only sounds to hasten his death were his own ragged breathing and the random scuffling of a stray cat or dog. Had someone passed the alley it would not have mattered - he had been mute since birth.

Jameson ‘James’ Jackson had likely been trying to get help – his body was found several feet away from where he had initially been stabbed. Yet he had not been able to crawl to the lit street, his arms and legs pierced several times over, not to mention the deep gash in his chest; Jack had mastered his craft down to an art. Jameson had most likely given up when he realized the futility of his situation, choosing instead to lay and accept it the best that he could.

What had been a simple trip home from his apprenticeship had turned into a blood bath. Jackson had been practicing clock making under Shawn Flynn. The lad had just completed his first year of training and would have been promoted to Flynn’s partner.

“I was hopin’ he’d take over for me one day. He may have been quiet, but he had a keen eye. ‘Sides, who needs to talk when you can communicate like him? Those eyes said a thousand words on their own.”

Jack had likely caught him in the street by diving out of the alley, dragging him inside, then holding the knife to his throat. The lad’s pockets were found empty of any and all money, the only item left being a pocket watch.

“He worked on that watch for months, took lots of time and thought. He made sure to practice before doin’ anythin’ to that watch. He put his heart an’ soul into it. Made sure to get the ivy an’ flowers right – even brought a bouquet t’ the shop.”

Bruises along the victim’s arms and throat demonstrated a fight with Jameson’s assailant. He had most likely fought to escape. Instead, left to die, he had clutched the watch in his hands as his life drained away.

“He was a smart lad, always readin’ when he had the chance. There was a lass that he’d go see at noon an’ they’d talk until he had to come back to work. He always came back with that dopey, lovey face ya’ see on boys when they fancy a girl. He loved her. Loved her somethin’ awful.”

Jameson was blinded by his own tears as he clutched the watch, knowing that he would never get to ask the question that he had practiced all week. He would never get to hear her gorgeous laugh again. He would never see her again.

She would never know how he felt.

He opened the watch with a shuddering sigh, sight dimmed. The soft clock face shone bright in the dark alley. He ran a pale thumb over the engravings, recalling all the time that he had spent making it. How he had thought of her gentle face before making each cut in the soft metal, trying to put into art what he could not put into words.

He smiled a bittersweet smile; he really had put his heart into this watch. She would have been proud to see it, to know how he had worked on it, to see his efforts blossomed into a finished product. She surely would have smiled if she’d known who the timepiece was for, if she had seen how he had defended her gift.

He would have rather died than to give up on her, so he did; guarding her honor with his heart and binding his soul with sentiment.

Since that fateful night, the pocket watch has been presented in a multitude of settings – beginning in a museum to eventually find its way to the common man’s pocket. Every person who gazes upon it - no matter if he is rich or poor, tall or short, pious or non-religious – all attest to the pocket watch’s melancholy beauty. A simple glance has the power to enrapture one with a sad smile or heartfelt tears.

Its power is bittersweet. Some say that it captures the emotions of its creator who, dying, remembered his love with both love and sorrow. Others say that it is merely the story that gives it life; the watch would be but a simple watch if it were not for its origins. Whatever the case, the man lives on through his one and only masterpiece.

In winding gears and spinning wheels, his heart and soul are forever bound. I hope that you guys liked it (especially you Cilli)! I had fun writing it except for the part where I killed the sweet child, you know. ((More may be written, I don’t know why my writing brain is suddenly really active.))

[dogfatherpads]

Modern Marauders? Just go crazy

i was two Marauders in and i accidentally deleted it i want to shoot myself 

James

played american football in high school, was definitely the star quarterback

gets the nickname “Prongs” from Sirius after Moony joked about him being graceful and effortless on the field

a total sweetheart

a little bit nerdy tbh

all of the girls want him but he’s only got eyes for a certain red head cheerleader who finally agrees to date him when he asks her to prom 

indie/alternative/rock… mostly ACDC or Nirvana, especially The Beatles

letterman jackets and converse, the messiest hair you can imagine

looks great in beanies

those square Ray Ban glasses taped up at the bridge of his nose from where he broke them on the field, until he finds round ones at a vintage shop with Remus and has his prescription put on them because “they kind of look like John Lennon’s”

a great student, but practice is tough, you can find him asleep at the library next to Lily or Moony during free periods

probably plays the guitar

has gotten scholarships for football but is a total math whiz and is brilliant at chemistry and physics

Remus

fursure hipster

I’m talking rolled up torn jeans and oversized sweaters, maybe even a hat, his curls falling messily into his face, almost fringe like

has his ears pierced. the little silver hoop earrings

wore Sirius’ leather jacket once and almost gave Sirius an aneurism, sticks to his oversized denim jacket now

has a matching tattoo with Sirius, he’s got the dog constellation (why they call Sirius Padfoot) on his inner upper arm 

the coolest socks, only when he decides to match them

a feminist

started the book club

Arctic Monkeys, maybe some Lana, mostly The 1975 

has his mum’s old record player sat on a shelf by his window and a million record players. Mostly his, the other half belonging to Sirius 

bisexual af

carries a journal. mostly filled with really bad jokes or doodles, and some sick poetry, mostly about Sirius and “the stars in his eyes” 

is an insomniac. Tis why he’s called Moony ;) because he’s “alive at night”

takes his coffee Black “like my man” (HAHA) It kills Sirius every time he makes that joke

an A student of course. Does extra credit work for fun even though he doesn’t need it

a sailor’s vocabulary. cusses better than anybody you know. also has the most extensive vocabulary

an English major 

Sirius

leather jackets, doc martens, and man buns, a few loose dark strands fall into his face

often wears eyeliner

a fucking nose piercing (a silver hoop to match Moony’s)

his half of the matching tattoo is the full moon on his chest 

Introduced The 1975 to Remus. Loves Cigarettes After Sex {the band too ;)} can absolutely jam to The Beatles with James. his music taste is very influential. loves jazz. But also talk to me about punk rock music like The Adicts or Misfits.

loves to attend concerts or go to museums

smoke cigarettes

knows every line to Grease

is in the drama club

an amazing dancer

very polite and formal unless you piss him off

a total drama queen 

a brilliant artist. had his art hung in the school’s art gallery 

has an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor nearby and his line work is incredible

can fix anything. a car, his motorcycle, a computer, anything stuck or jammed, he’s got it? something need rewiring? Sirius’ can fix it

is majoring in mechanical engineering but the tattoo parlor holds his heart

loves Moony more than anybody in the world. 

Peter

not too tall, a little shy (kind of mousy, why he’s called Wormtail) blonde hair a little tousled, probably  in superhero t shirts or hoodies

a comic book nerd. has a massive collection of all of them. Marvel and DC

also a video game nerd, is in computer animation classes because he plans to become a computer engineer so he can design his own video games

great at history. probably photographic memory because he can remember dates and events better than anybody 

probably into like classical music or house music, dubstep and all of that

is quiet and a little bit anxious

will never stop talking once he’s comfortable around you

is a great student as well

maybe asexual? is more into his comics than having physical relationships

runs track

is insecure about his height so he hits the gym to bulk up a little 

knows he has amazing friends. loses touch with them a little when they’ve all graduated 

Together

Nobody misses their parties

usually thrown at James’ house when his parents are out of town

the music is good and they’re friends with everybody so everyone is welcome 

Sirius and Remus are def the school’s power couple 

they’re loud and they make their presence known wherever they go

own every room they walk into

definitely know everybody’s name and are so kind to everyone 

their friendships don’t make sense sometimes  because they’re so different but that’s why they work 

pulled the most epic senior prank before they graduated 

probably lived together during college and each moved out when they got married (James with Lily and Moony and Pads) 

def live next door to each other

see Peter once in a while when he’s in town for conferences 

I hope you liked this anon and that this was what you were hoping for. this is exactly how i picture the marauders today. :) i had loads of fun writing this thank you for requesting 

[notjustagirltattoopodcast]

Not Just A Girl: Made by Hand

You can listen to the twelfth episode with Amy Jones here. Or you can find this interview on YouTube with English subtitles/closed captions here.

NOT JUST A GIRL: Tattoo Podcast

EPISODE TRANSCRIPT

Season 1, Episode 12: Made by Hand

Eddy: Hello, friends and welcome to Not Just A Girl, your friendly feminist tattoo podcast. I'm Eddy and I'm back to share with you the thoughts and experience as some of my favorite people in tattooing. On the 12th episode and the last of the season, we'll be talking about tattoo conventions, hand poke tattooing, and what we've learned in lockdown.Before we begin, I would like to acknowledge the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people who are the traditional custodians of this land that was stolen and never ceded. I am honored and grateful to be on the ancestral land of the Awabakal people and I pay my respect to their Elders past and present and extend that recognition to their descendants.Today I get to chat to one of my dearest friends, the fabulous and talented Amy Unalome. Amy works at La Flor Sagrada in Melbourne, and does some of the most beautiful and clean ornamental hand poke tattoos I've ever seen. I even have some myself. Um, I met Amy at a convention a few years back and we eventually got to tattoo each other. And I'm super grateful now to call her my friend. Thank you so much for being part of the podcast, Amy. Amy: Oh, my gosh. Thank you for having me. Eddy: So good. Anyway, hand poke tattoos. That's your thing, everyone knows that. Um, how does your style differ from, you know, Tebori or Ta Moko or the more traditional or tribal styles of hand poking?Amy: Um, well, it's, it's like something that people always ask it's like, generally, like, probably a question that I get almost every single day, at least once or twice a day. And it's like, it's funny cause people say like, so like what made you choose like hand poking or what's the difference with poking than like regular tattooing? Um, I feel like, I guess like regular tattooing could mean a lot of different things, but, um, the main thing that, um, I guess what is hand poking in the sense that I do it is, um, It's basically the exact same idea of tattooing with the machine apart from you take that whole element of the machine out of that. Um, so it's just tattooing by hand. You still use the same, um, needles as you would with a machine. Um, same idea, it's just a lot more slowed down. And the motion of like piercing the skin is kind of, it's done by hand in a repetitive motion. Eddy: Yeah. It's definitely less trauma on the skin as well. Like the ones you did on my thumbs, there's absolutely no bleed out or drop out whatsoever and the heal was so easy. Amy: Yeah, I find, um, because the, um, technique is a lot less intense on the skin um, it definitely creates like a lot less inflammation around the tattoo. So there's a lot of, there's a lot of things that kind of go into hand poking, but definitely the method allows like a lot less intense experience.Eddy: Yeah. It's definitely more relaxing. Like when you did the ones on my tragus, I barely like felt it. It was just kind of a really relaxing and soft experience. Amy: Yeah. I really like, I'm really intrigued to know how like, hand poking feels on the face. Cause I'm like, Ooh, I think I'm going to like it. Like, that's something that I want to experience myself, it'd be cool.Eddy: Yeah. Well, what brought you to that style in the first place? Because you did a trad, a normal apprenticeship, but what, what was the choice that like, why did you choose hand poking rather than machine in your apprenticeship? Amy: Um, well, it's kind of strange how it all came about. Like, I don't think I ever sat down for like a moment and was like, I'm going to tattoo and I'm going to tattoo in this way, and this is the way I'm going to do it. It kind of will happen like quite organically and almost as if like how it was meant to be, um, like me and hand poking always kind of like went hand in hand. Um, Like my first ever experience of it, it's actually like really funny. Um, I was like eight teen, um, and I was hanging out at like a friend's house and we were like, we're punks, lets pierce each other, let's get these safety pins and put them through our noses.And I met one of my friends. She was like, um, Oh, I um I've tattooed myself the other day. Like, do you want me to show you how it's done and I was like, hell yes, I do. Like, that sounds so bad ass. And, um, there was something so cool about a friend of mine, like being able to like mark me in such a simple way, you know? Um, so from then on really like, She did one on me and then I did one on myself and we had like ciggies in our mouths and we were like swigging whiskey at the same time...I love this. Really from then on it just kind of stuck with me. It was something that I was always kind of like, not from a sense that I don't want to go and get tattooed by machine because I did that a lot anyway, like a loved getting tattooed when I was younger, but this was like, I guess it was my way of like, being able to like literally use my hands and use some other equipment and like, tattoo that way.And, um, I guess like the journey that led me to Australia and like led me to Melbourne. And kind of like put me where I was in a place to kind of do an apprenticeship. It was all surrounded around hand poking. And, um, I remember before I even like, thought about getting an apprenticeship, I didn't even think that hand poking was something people did professionally. I thought there was, tattooing and there was traditional tribal tattooing and I just did not think that anyone would ever take like stick and poke um, seriously enough to for it to be a thing. Eddy: Yeah. Cause I guess it was really seen as just a part of like the punk community or, you know, more what's the word like? Not mainstream. Amy: Yeah, it was kind of like anti-establishment like prison tattoo, DIY stick n poke, spiritual, maybe like. I mean, I don't know. Maybe if I just didn't realize that at the time, but it, when I kind of started professionally, like it wasn't really around as much I was aware of in like Melbourne at the time.Eddy: Yeah. Well, you were the first person I'd heard of who was a professional tattooer, who did their tattoos with like by hand rather than by machine. Like everyone else I was aware of in Australia anyway, only talking about Australia here, like everyone else that I was aware of who was doing stick and poke was doing it at home and hadn't ever done an actual apprenticeship. Amy: Yeah, well, don't get me wrong. Like obviously, like my, my story kind of comes from that place of like, you know, I found hand poking in a, in a world that wasn't professional. Um, and obviously, like, I kind of experimented with that on myself, not in a professional environment. Um, and it wasn't until kind of like, Became aware to me like that. Um, there was a few artists in England, um, and Europe and some in America that I kind of started noticing like, Whoa, these people, uh, um, hand poking and they're doing it professionally, and they're doing it out of a studio. They're like, Holy crap, this is something that like, can be done. You know. Eddy: Like Gary Burns, like so amazing. Amy: Yeah. And like, you know, Grace, like Grace Neutral, she was probably one of the first, um, hand poke tattooist in a professional environment that I really kind of like followed that career and their work and was like looking at her go, like it's cool. People can do it. Eddy: Yeah and there's been a lot of like, discussion about what a professional tattooer means like, do you have to have done a certain kind of apprenticeship or, you know, can you just be mentored or can you just decide to do it? And like what, where do you stand on that? Amy: That's, that's always been like a kind of issue that's surrounded me. Um, I was fortunate enough that when I decided that hand poking tattooing in general was something that I, I wanted to do professionally. There was no other choice to me than to search out a traditional apprenticeship. And for me, the only way to, to be able to work within a studio environment was to approach in that way and kind of like ask around and look for a professional apprenticeship. Mainly with the idea that I would, um, be tattooing with machine. So, um, it wasn't until I decided that that was something that I wanted to do. I started looking around for apprenticeships and like, don't get me wrong, it is not easy. You don't just fall into it, especially when you're telling people in professional shops that like, yeah, I really want to do um hand poke like, I'd prefer to really concentrate on that rather than, um, move to machine. Like a lot of people told me to like F off. Eddy: It took me like four years to get an apprenticeship. Amy: Yeah. It's not easy. And, and like this, I guess. This is the kind of like the wall that I hit is that I, because that's the way that I entered the tattoo industry and I did do a formal apprenticeship and I was really fortunate enough to, um, work with tattooers that, um, gave like gave time to me and showed me things that, you know, that they would kind of show me everything they know about tattooing and then kind of helped me almost like turn that into, like, how am I getting use to hand poke? Like no one actually physically sat me down and showed me how to like, do a hand poke tattoo. Um, but I guess it's, it's hard because like hand poke and stick n poke tattooing is something that kind of is associated more with a free vibe, you know, like do it at home.Um, maybe you might not think that you do do like a traditional apprenticeship in that sense, but I kind of entered the industry surrounded by a very old school mentality and a very kind of, if you want to be in the industry, this is the way that you get at that. And not only from like a perspective of like learning how to tattoo properly, but like learning how to tattoo safely, um, which is really important to me. But like, I honestly think in the past I've had like, quite straightforward views about that and I kind of really want to acknowledge that, like, there's not one way to do an apprenticeship.Eddy: Absolutely.Amy: And people learn in different ways. I think the old school apprenticeship in the sense that, you know, The ones that we might've experienced. Um, it's definitely a lot different nowadays and creating like a safe and, um, like nice environment to learn how to tattoo in is very important. But I also think it's still super important to do it in a, um, in a studio environment, because that way you'll really learn how to do it safely. But, um, yeah, I know a lot of people have entered the industry life without the traditional kind of sense of it, but I guess, yeah. I mean, I don't know any other way. Eddy: Yeah. Yeah. I feel like it's more prevalent in hand poking to people to just start at home and then suddenly get a job in the studio without having had that training and real understanding of the techniques they're using, um, you know, blood pathogen training, just understanding how to work with clients. And, you know, some of these people might be incredibly talented and bring a lot to tattooing, but it's also detrimental in some ways to the customer, because when you work at a professional studio, the customer assumes that you have had professional training and yeah, I'm the same. Like I used to be very staunch on my views of there's only one way to answer tattooing and it's this way. And I've changed my mind on that a lot and opened it up to understanding that there are many ways you can enter tattooing, but at the same time, I think you do still need a mentor. Someone who is a professional tattooer. To show you whether it be in a formal or informal capacity, how to tattoo, how to understand the skin, different techniques and mostly client safety.Amy: Absolutely. Like there's not been kind of like one person in particular that's been responsible for showing me and teaching me like studio and shop etiquette and, um, safe practice. Um, I've picked that up from working at a few different places with so many different people. And like, I think in the tattoo community we're fortunate enough to share information with each other and support each other and make suggestions. Eddy: Yeah. Amy: I think without that, that's when you really fall into like some kind of trouble, because maybe you assume that, you know what you're doing and without that kind of peer support in a safe environment, um, you can be making mistakes that you didn't even know exist.Eddy: Exactly. Amy: You know so I would have conversations with clients that had been like oh, you know, like, Oh, I got this done um, by a professional, you know, it was clean and it don't worry it was really safe. And it's like, well, like um first and foremost I'm glad that the client felt safe and happy to do so, but at the same part, and like, you know, you as a tattooist you can kind of like see things in their tattoo that they're talking about and you're like, You know, you hear about how the setup was and you see the way that the tattoo has been done. And you know, it, wasn't done by a person with professional training, but that's not important to some people, I guess it's always been important to me. Eddy: Yeah, same. And I think for me, as soon as someone takes money for that service, that's when it crosses the line, like. You know, I mean, we've all done things that we shouldn't have done when we started out, you know, we've all had rocky backgrounds or whatever, especially, you know, kind of 10, 20 years ago, people coming into it it was a very different world. Yeah, if client's safety and, and people's health, isn't our first priority we really need to rethink whether we're in it for the right reasons as well, because it's a huge responsibility. And, you know, there's a huge difference between somebody tattooing themselves at home for fun and them taking money and taking clients and pretending they know what they're doing. Amy: Yeah. And I think that's why we kind of like run into trouble sometimes with the idea of what hand poke tattooing is. Um, it's also like referred to a lot of the time is, um, stick n poke, which also, you know, like upon like searching the internet, what that might mean. It definitely means a lot to different people. Um, I mean, like, I don't want to be the one that kind of says what hand poke or what stick and poke tattoo is. It's like, some people love the element that it's like unregulated and, um, it's kind of got a little bit more freedom in it because you either have to, um, stick to the kind of guidelines of machine tattooing. Um, but for me kind of, as soon as I decided that it was going to be something that I provide to the public and to clients it's really important always and it always has been for me to be able to do it properly, I guess. Like, I guess like what's the proper way to do it, but I, yeah, I mean, I, I've kind of been like raised up through this kind of very professional, um, surroundings in the industry and, and maybe it's sometimes been to my detriment, like.There's this like a sense of like a hand poke community, um, and also a tattoo community. And I've never really liked found a place in between the two. I don't feel like I've ever really been accepted into one or the other and I guess like that I can say the same if I'm trying to say like what's professional and what's not like, I'm kind of like, I dunno. I feel like it's a bit more fluid than this being like... Eddy: Yeah. Yeah. And it must be hard kind of being between the two worlds, like, you know, tattooers who use machines being like, you're not a real tattooer cause you don't use machines. Even though we only started using machines when electricity came along and then like, yeah, the hand poke community saying, Oh, you work in a shop, you call yourself professional. You're not, you know, DIY enough for us, it's really, that's a hard balance. Amy: I've always felt like, especially, um, when I started tattooing professionally, there was really like very, very few other like professional hand poke artists that I knew of in Australia. So it was always hard, um, kind of feeling, um, like always felt like a bit of an outsider. Like I wasn't kind of included in the tattoo community cause you know, everybody in the shop would be talking about like techniques of machine or, you know, there's Amy, she's just doin her  silly little hand pokes, like when you're going to pick a machine up, you know? And then when hand poke started becoming really popular, um, I was kind of taught by my peers to like kind of rage out against that because they hadn't done professional apprenticeships like I had. So that then segregated me from the hand poked community, um, which I kind of longed for the whole time that I've been tattooing, um, and it hasn't really been until the last few years when I've met um, a lot of tattoo is, um, like yourself. And when I kind of got involved with Not Just A Girl that I was like, Oh, Whoa, okay. Like, Now tattooers are kind of excepting me, but I'm still not accepted in, I don't know. I've always kind of been a bit of a floater in that sense, but. Eddy: Yeah, that's so typical.Amy: Definitely. Eddy: OhAmy: Sorry. Eddy: I was going to say that's so typical of that toxic side of tattooing that we create cliques and then we set them against each other. It's just. Like, I remember working in a studio in Newcastle where it wasn't particularly pleasant, but I remember when I was trying to reach out to other artists, they were like, why, why would you talk to them? They are your competition. You should hate them. And you see that recurring in tattooing, like, you know, Oh, girls can't work together because they're too much drama. They don't get along. They'll hate each other. And then, yeah, like machine tattooers against hand pokers and there's a lot of hate. Amy: I had a, I had a client, um, come to me months and months ago. And they told me that that walked into like a local shop. And, you know, just to have a look, do have a walk in maybe, fun little tattoo and they'd had a hand poke tattoo by me previously. And they said to the receptionist, like, Oh, do you have any hand poke artists here? Like, I've had one of those before and I really liked another one. And they replied with, we don't acknowledge that as a professional form of tattooing. So no, we don't do it at this shop. And I was just like, man, that sucks. Because like I put so much time and energy into kind of like creating that professional element to what I do that is like, Oh, okay. Everyone's not keen on it yet. That's okay. Eddy: How can you not recognize something that's a part of your own history? Amy: Yeah. I mean, I like, I have no idea who the person was that said that, I was like, Oh, okay, well come and get one from me again. I guess like, yeah. Eddy: That's so mad to me. Like all tattooing in every single culture has started as a hand poke form of tattooing. Amy: Yeah. I mean, this is it's again, it's kind of like that divide between like, what is what, and I don't think that we need, like, we need to really kind of label it like that. Like, I don't think that like, machine tattooers should label hand poke as non-professional. But I also think that like maybe professional hand poke tattooers should not label like stick n poke as, you know, like. I mean, like, as long as somebody's doing it in a studio, like in a safe environment and they've taken the time to kind of, um, educate themselves with safe practice and you know, it's all healthy. Um, so like, who am I to say? What is, and what isn't, what should be, and I can't get mad when other people say the same about me, but I think I've been super lucky in that, like I've managed to work with a lot of people that do acknowledge what I do and do, um, make me feel very welcome, um, in tattooing now and like to the point where like, even tattooers want to get tattoos from me, like that means the world that like that's kind of like being accepted that my work is like, okay. Eddy: That's the best feeling when a tattooer books in with you.Amy: It's so excited about it, but at the same time, I'm like F off I'm too nervous, so scary. Like when you asked to get tattooed by me, I was like heart attack city like, just can't deal with it. But somehow I managed to get through.Eddy: Yeah. It's one of those things where you have like, have a little bit of a panic attack in the bathroom beforehand. I dunno, you come at it shaking like, Oh my God, I hope I settle down before I finished this tattoo. Amy: Literally, like before I tattoo anyone I have to have like a little like pow wow in the, like toilet, like, yeah, I've got this. I remember, like my apprenticeship, every time the door opened, I would run to the toilet. So everybody thought that I had like some kind of like toilet problem. Cause that's just like my safe place. It's just, I don't know, those ones that are the scariest ones are the ones that I seem to just like, something just comes over you and you can just do it. Eddy: Yep. Amy: I don't know. Eddy: Fight or flight. Amy: Yeah, man. Yeah. Eddy: Yeah. Talking about being nervous tattooing, you have done so many conventions and I I'm always a nervous wreck at conventions, but I mean, you've you're like old hat at it now?Amy: I, um, I was really, really fortunate in that my first like four years of tattooing. Um, it was very heavily concentrated on the, um, convention circuit, um, not only in Australia, but I was really, really lucky to be able to travel, um, worldwide, to do them and like, don't get me wrong. I still get so nervous, like social anxiety to the max. Um, but the, I think the more you do, the more you kind of like realize that, um, everyone's in the same boat. Um, and you can kind of like drown out the, um, the craziness and the noise around you because you still have these like really awesome intimate connections of each person that like, kind of walks up to your booth so. I still get nervous, but it does get easier. Eddy: It's such a weird experience. Like, you know, doing this thing, you usually do every day, but having hundreds of people walking past just watching you it's yeah. It's, why do we do it? Amy: I don't know. It's crazy too cause I remember going to a convention before I was a tattooer and walking around and I was looking at all these artists being like, Whoa, like this is so cool. Like, can you imagine being able to do this one day? So, I think every convention that I do now, I have like a moment of gratitude being like, man, I'm like, I'm so like stoked that I'm like, yeah. And this is where I wanted to be. Um, it's yeah, it's really, it's cool. It's definitely a perk of my job for sure. Eddy: Yeah. I think the best bit of conventions is just the socializing with other tattooers and the friends you make. Like you, I met you at a convention and now you're one of my best friends and yeah. It's you can make some really amazing connections there. Amy: Yeah. I mean like a lot of the time, the things that I say to other people at conventions and like, did I just like, I went to like shake their hand and high five them at the same time. And I was like, woooo hey. Get like, so like doofussy and these like, um, interections especially with tattoo artists that I admire and look up to I'm literally like a jibbering like mess, like probably saying dumb stuff when we met. But, um, that it's certain conventions that I've been to the effort that other tattooers make to make connections with you is just like, it's so cool. And I've yeah. Um, a really great thing about it is meeting the artists, especially, um, within like our female community. Like we're always checking in with each other at conventions. It's really cute. Eddy: It is. Yeah. I know what you mean by going goofy though. Like my husband says that whenever, he can see me talking to like another tattooer at the convention that I've got, like T-Rex arms happening where I'm like holding my hands up to my chest because I'm so nervous and don't know what to do with them.Amy: I dont know what you're talking about. Literally, I, my biggest thing is I would walk around with this like kind of Stepford wives smile on my face. Like, Hello, nice to meet you. What are you doing? Have you been busy?Eddy: It's like the same three questions too. Amy: Always on repeat, like all weekend. Um, it's so cool because then like the way that conventions are set up and each person has their own booth to kind of, um, Show their own self in that small area. It really like sparks conversation between you and other artists and you buy prints, you buy like merchandise. Yeah. It really kind of like helps you bond really quickly especially because at conventions people are like what are you doing? What is that? Where's your machine? Is that all you packed? You just packed those few things, what the F.Eddy: You have like the smallest convention bag ever. Amy: I do. Um, it's a very fortunate thing about hand poking is that I do not carry a lot of equipment, so it's very good for traveling. Eddy: You can easily, you get through customs.Amy: This is true. Paddlepop sticks? Chopsticks? Yes.Eddy: Yeah, well we have a few conventions hopefully planned for like ourselves and you know, we've already been planning how we're going to deck our booth to be all amazing if these conventions ever happen. Amy: I know. I mean like travel is a bit of a strange thing right now, but um definitely the kind of the conventions that I want to attend they're everywhere they're all around the world. And it's just, um, that kind of, I didn't realize how lucky that we had it when we had the ability to travel as much as we did these really, really, really great conventions put on by really great people. Um, I look forward to when we can do them again. Eddy: What, what have been your favorite convention so far?Amy: Oh man. Um, I would say experience wise, um, I was really lucky to attend the, um, the first ever, um, South African Tattoo convention. Um, and what was incredible about that was, um, the, the organizers, um, It was kind of more like family run. Um, the, the organizers, putting so much work to kind of have all of these international artists come together in such a magical place, but also make us feel so welcome and, um, really showcase their country and their culture to us and help us bond and put on this. It was just such an incredible time. Um, there was so many cool tattooers there and we got to do some cool stuff. Um, so the, the kind of close connection, of that one was really fabulous. Um, the same for this one that I attend often which is the, um, the New Zealand Tattoo convention. Again, just like run by people that really care about tattooing, really care about not only making the artist comfortable, but they really, really like include the public and in what happens. And, um, just to get just the general vibe is more like, everyone's welcome. Let's all be friends. Let's hang out. It's so fun. Eddy: It's so lovely at the New Zealand one, how they paid tribute to, um, Like the local customs and traditions by putting on the like welcome to country. I don't know what, like haka, is it Amy: The haka? Yeah.Eddy: Yeah. Yeah its so beautiful.Amy: Their traditional welcome. It's, yeah. And it's totally respectful of, um, the, the town and the country that it's held in. And um, Having like so many artists come from around the world, um, and the whole, it's a small town and everyone's so welcoming, they're so keen to show you about their like history and their country. It's so fab. It's really cool. Eddy: It's awesome. I can't wait till the next one. And I think the thing I love about it is, you know, And, and that it's a huge difference between the Australian conventions and the New Zealand or other international ones that I've seen, like where it is actually focused on tattoo art specifically. And they don't use women's bodies to sell their merchandise. You know, we're not objectified and you know, in Australia, it's very, very disappointing. How, you know, from my personal experience, how I've been treated at conventions. Amy: Yeah. I mean, it's a shame. Um, I think it has been acknowledged in the past that maybe some of the, um, kind of entertainment and advertising aspects of Australian conventions might have been a little bit more, um, concentrated on, um, exploitation of, um, women's bodies and sexuality in tattooing. And I think a lot of female tattooists had kind of spoken up about maybe like, you know, in advertisements, maybe show us tattooing rather than walking a catwalk. But, um, you know, I definitely understand that you need to provide a certain element of entertainment maybe for the general public come into a tattoo show, but I think it's also really important that it's all inclusive in that sense and the entertainment isn't more of like a physical representation of what tattooing is, and more kind of like let's include everybody and make it about the art. Eddy: Yeah, absolutely. And you know, it's advertised as a family friendly event, make it family friendly, like, you know, instead of, you know, burlesque, and now I have absolutely no problem with burlesque, pole dancers, anything like that. I absolutely love that stuff, but I also love it in the correct venue, you know, at lunchtime, at a family friendly event, a little child's not going to understand what they're seeing and you know, that removes the parents' ability to censor what their children are seeing and, you know, introduce them to it at an appropriate time. And. Yeah, that and the way that they went about it, like my last convention, you know, I was hearing things like her tits are gonna set you on fire over the loudspeaker. And I'm just like, I'm a, I'm a woman and I'm sitting here trying to do a tattoo and I'm hearing stuff like that and that makes me feel unsafe and uncomfortable. And you know, when I've gone to Literary Ink or New Zealand, for example, I haven't had that at all. I feel very much just another tattooer. You know, I'm not separate at all.Amy: That's quite shocking to hear. Um, like I guess that I would say that's the main difference. Maybe the entertainment that's provided during, um, The conventions compared to ones that I've been to before. Um definitely, I don't really, haven't really attended an Australian convention in a short while. But um. Eddy: Same, yeah, it's been about 3 years.Amy: Yeah, um acknowledged that they'd been kind of making some changes within how how that kind of worked and what kind of entertainment was supplied, but it's just that it was just a different vibe. It was kind of like, this is the way that it is, and this is one set way and this is how it's going to be. And, um, yeah, it was sometimes it's a little disappointing. Eddy: Yeah. It sucks not being heard and included in tattooing and yeah. Like, I think things are starting to change though. There are people who are actually making more effort. Like I haven't been there yet, but I've heard that the Wellington convention, again, in New Zealand, like that they actually actively striving for more equality in and diversity in the artists they choose to invite and having it very artist focused. Amy: That's really cool. Yeah. That's something that I've definitely found. Um, a lot of, uh, conventions that I've been to is, um, the artists attending, um, super diverse, really cool. Um, so many different people traveling from not only within that country, but internationally as well. And it's this, this kind of magical boiling pot of lots of, um, tattooers coming together and sharing experiences and techniques and ideas. It's really cool. Eddy: It's so good. I feel like, you know, All of the bullshit aside, the way that it's marketed, the entertainment. I think the money making side of it, the stuff that the business people involved do, I think that aside the actual act of a whole bunch of tattooers coming together and, you know, doing tattoos and talking to each other and sharing, you know, their skills and their ideas that is like absolutely magical. And that's hopefully something we can continue to do. Amy: At the end of the day, I think what's important is that the, um, the tattooers was attending conventions, feel comfortable and included, the clients attending tattoo conventions, feel comfortable and included and families attending. And, um, you know, a lot of hard work goes into, um, putting these things together. I've seen it first hand and there's a lot of different ideas and a lot of different, um, people that want certain things, everyone's got different ideas of how they want it done, but at the end of the day, um, having that space for everyone to come together, I think it's really cool and important. Eddy: Yeah, absolutely. And you can put aside all of the, the fighting and focus on safety and comfort, and then everything's good. Amy: You'd hope so. Eddy: It will be interesting to see what conventions are like now, you know, with social distancing and all of these other things that we don't know how long they're going to be a part of our society for it. I wonder how it'll change the way that people attend to conventions and interact with artists. Amy: Yeah. I think a lot of things are gonna change, um, especially, yeah, you can look back and be like, man, like we had it real good for awhile there, but I guess if this has given us anything, it's a chance to maybe shake things up and umm have a look at the way we do things and yeah, move forward for the better, I hope, and hopefully we can kind of get back to that convention lifestyle at some point. Travel again.Eddy: Yeah hopefully. Well talking about like.Amy: A couple of drinks.Eddy: Yes, talking about like, you know, changing things up and looking at the way you do things, you know, that's something that we've talked about a lot over the lockdown period. Just like how this event has changed, our perspective. And, um, what has isolation taught you? Amy: Um, honestly, I feel really awful that it's a terrible thing that's happened and there's a lot of like bad things to come out of it. I think personally, for me, I've found the time really, really good for me. Um, really just having like the chance, like. When you put all of your life into something and all of your energy and time into something that you love so much, having that taken away from you is like terrifying. And it was something that I feared in more ways than one, if I was going to have certain things taken away from me and, um, Yeah. I mean, like having the time to stop, um, like not, you know, not go to work every day and just kind of like take a moment to step back from tattooing and then think like, Whoa, what's going on. Um, uh, found it to be like, yeah, really refreshing, really good time to just kind of reassess kind of what's important in life. And what, what do you care about and what you can do with your time and energy? So I've found it like quite quite good for the old mental health.Eddy: And you know you're a Brit in, in Australia. So you've had like no support from the government. So you've, you know, to be so positive and to get through with no help and not being able to, you know, see your family and all that. Like that's, that's amazing that you've had such a positive outlook. Amy: Yeah. Well, I, um, I am like fortunate and privileged enough to, um, have a really good support network around me. Um, then, you know, like, I've found the time to use my creativity, to support myself during the time. I also like really had to like take a step back from creativity for a while as well. And just kind of, um, Yeah think about things that are actually, you know, like if tattooing isn't all of my life and all consuming, what is it that I care about?Eddy: Yeah. Amy: Um. Eddy: And that's not a question and we would ask ourselves very often, like, what else is there and what other ways can I contribute? Amy: Well, that was, that was the big thing for me. Um, I like at first, I was like, I'm going to do so many things. Like I got really creative, um, had a really great time experimenting with painting and making art to kind of make prints. Um, but kind of when all that slowed down, I really wanted to stop and think like, I don't currently feel like I'm contributing anything to my community. And I do think that like ... as a tattooer. It, yeah, it really does kind of benefit people in a lot of ways. But when, when you don't have that, I was like, yeah, what, what can I do to kind of help? What would I want to do if I didn't do this? And I guess it kind of all kind of came back around to that whole, like, I really want to be able to help people in life like and contribute in ways that like, I hadn't really thought about before. And, um, yeah, I guess like one, one kind of like something that's like really close to my heart and something that I really liked discovered was important to me as I want to, um, kind of when I get the chance to take a little bit of a step away from tattooing and concentrate more on maybe, um, counseling.Eddy: Thats awesome.Amy: Yeah. Within, um, family violence. Eddy: Yeah. Amy: Um, And just, you know, like this, that, this kind of thing, it's, it's always that it's always happening. It doesn't stop. And even during a crisis, like what happened, like charities still need help. People still need volunteers. So yeah, I really kind of decided that's something that I want to kind of, um, work towards, um, a career within, at some point.Eddy: That's brilliant. And it's really good that you've allowed this time to reflect on that and like, discover that desire in yourself because you know, people are experiencing, you know, domestic violence in their home at alarming rates in lockdown. It's, it's been really devastating, and you know, there's not enough help for people in those situations. So the more people like yourself who actually genuinely care and want to help who are out there, the better the world's going to be. Amy: Yeah just like Um, anything that you can do really, um, I kind of like looked into doing some volunteer work um, during this time, like, I didn't feel like I was doing a lot myself. So like I found it was important to educate myself with ways to find out how you can help, um, in the future. Um, and there's lots of really good organizations that I kind of looked into that you can can volunteer with, that you can work for you can, um, help out at, um, Yeah, it was cool. I like, I just never had like a chance in my life to kind of stop and think what would I do if I wasn't tattooing, I found like in those times of reflection as it's like, what else do I care about? Yeah. Eddy: It makes sense as well, because I feel like as a tattooer, we do tend to have a well developed empathy. You know, we have to like really care about our customers. And well not have to, we do, care about our customers and, you know, keep them safe and, you know, ease them through what's a painful process. So it makes sense that that empathy can translate into other careers and other options. And, you know, I feel like those two things can work well together as well. Like, you know, kind of trauma and tattooing. Amy: Hundred percent. Um, I would say honestly for me, one of the main things about my practice is I love to make people feel comfortable. It's like one of the most important things that I do that the minute a client walks through the door and comes and sits in my space and kind of like trusts me to put that body in a vulnerable position and is like my number one to make people feel happy and comfortable and feel that they can talk about anything.And I didn't realize that how much of a massive part of like my job that is and how important it is. I guess I've always just found that I can talk to people really well. Um, and like, it makes me feel good when people say that they had a nice experience because I managed to make them feel comfortable. And that that will never change for me that something that like, it is always so important, but, and it's crazy that you find how, as soon as your client's comfortable, like they almost start to open up to you and, you know, they find a lot of therapy within that tattoo session as well. It's kind of thing that I'm already quite active daily and doing like, it just, I just want people to feel like they can tell me that they're feeling okay. That they're comfortable while they're getting tattooed. They can talk to me if they want to. Um, it's one of the most magical parts of what we do, I think is those intimate moments with people. Um seeing somebody kind of like come into your space and just feel completely at ease for you to, you know, Mark their body.Eddy: Yeah. It takes a lot of trust for sure. And you know, you're, you're always so amazing with your clients. Like whenever I've seen you working here at my studio, whenever I've been visiting La Flor, you're so welcoming and so kind to them and you can, you can see that, like they leave happy and they leave like really loving their tattoo.Amy: Yeah, I mean like, like you said, it's like a trust that people put in you and you don't want to, you don't want to take that for granted for a second. And I want, I want them to know that how thankful I am that they've trusted me to tattoo them. So if we can have a chat, if we can have a laugh, if we can have a really positive experience, then that. That to me is like, hopefully they're going to walk away loving the tattoo that they have aesthetically, but also walk away loving the experience that they had personally. And I'm really lucky in that I get a lot of people kind of come back to me for that reason being like, it was nice. I felt good. We had a good time. I like what I got, like tattooin doesn't have to be this scary painful experience. It can be actually really lovely. Eddy: Yeah. I'd love for our listeners to, to know that as well, that, you know, if you're ever in a situation where you don't feel safe getting tattooed, you know, you can, you can leave. Like you should not ever feel unsafe. You should not ever feel uncomfortable or unwelcome, like, you know, and you have a right to walk away as well. You know, nobody ever has a right to treat you badly and you're paying for a luxury service and that comes with certain behaviors. And I would like to mention, if it's okay, Amy, um, you know, there's been a lot of talk in the last few days about some things going on in tattooing with a Tattoo Me Too movement. Um, and I want to use this platform while I've got it to to ask tattooers to look after their clients and to look after each other. You know, it's really unfair that we ask victims to be the ones to speak out and to talk about these situations because it's retraumatizing for them and it's very unfair. But, you know, as, as tattooers, we should be keeping an eye on things in the studio. And if we see another artist or a client behaving in a way that's inappropriate we need to put a stop to it. We need to call it out. We need to fire artists who misbehave. You know, we are the ones with the power in this situation and we can affect change in the industry to make it better so that, you know, there's more, tattooers like Amy, for example, who do treat her artists with her clients with respect.Amy: It's super Um, yeah, so many people have talked about maybe some experiences that they might've had in a tattoo shop where, and this is talking, like it happened a while ago and it still happens today where clients have felt uncomfortable to maybe speak up about something that they haven't felt a hundred percent comfortable with. And, um, I know that like I'm fortunate enough to work with people that are very conscious about, um, clients comfort and safety and be surrounded by tattooists that, um, do respect everybody. Um, but yeah, but yeah, if anyone would ever feel uncomfortable, um, You know, not happy with the situation they're in a tattoo shop it's totally, it's totally the time to like speak up and say something by and for artists. Like, noone should feel uncomfortable.Eddy: And you're right about being conscious because you know, we do have the power in the situation and a lot of people feel awkward. I know that before I was a tattooer I've been in situations where I wasn't happy with the design. I wasn't happy with the situation, but I got the tattoo anyway, because, and even, actually, since being a tattooer that's still happened to me, you know, because they have this power over you. So we need to, to learn, to be conscious of our clients' reactions to us and to, you know, endeavor, to get consent for everything and to just do our best, like, you know, no, one's perfect. You know, we're all learning, but as long as we're at least trying, I think, you know, it can really improve things for everybody.Amy: A hundred percent. Never assume that your client, just because they're there are comfortable. Um, I think it's important to always ask consent even before you start to draw on skin before you start to, um, hold their body in a certain way to put a stencil on, like it's yeah. You can sense, like you can get a sense for when people feel at ease but it's always important to ask as well.Eddy: Yeah. Even little things like the photograph, you know, if you know, if it's something that you would maybe feel a bit self conscious having that photograph on the internet, just check with them first. Like, you know, are you comfortable with this, this photo being posted? Amy: Absolutely. Um, I'm quite, um, lucky in the sense that a lot of my female clients feel comfortable enough for me to tattoo belly, um, and, you know, take in a photo as like an artist. You know, you kind of want to record your work. Um, for personal kind of prep, you know, have a look. Yeah kind of record what you've done, but you've got to remember that that's not like a piece of paper, that's your art work on a person's body. And that, that person, you know, has the right to say what they do and don't want, um, kind of like photographed or recorded. But yeah, I mean, I'm, I'm really grateful that, um, people feel comfortable, comfortable enough with me to have me tattoo certain body parts and, um, Yeah. Well, it's always important to check if they're happy, if you want to take a photo. Eddy: Exactly. And there's always like a way you can make the photos you know, more comfortable for the customer. Like I did some really cute spiderwebs, like under a girl's, um, butt cheeks, and, you know, she, wasn't very comfortable with having her butt exposed. So we just like draped the fabric of her skirt around so you couldn't see any of her butt, but you could still you see the spider webs and it was like, yep, that's good to go. I don't care if anyone else likes the photo or not. She likes it. Amy: Yeah, gorgeous. I remember when I guested at FLT actually, you guys have really beautiful, um, like floral shaped nipple covers, and everyone's like, Oh, I'm going to need some of these for like fashion afterwards, these are fab.Eddy: I know, I felt bad that sometimes you see, you know, when people are getting their sternum tattoo and they've got stickers over their nipples and I'm like, that would be so uncomfortable. So I'm going to get a proper pasty. It's got the correct adhesive. It's got the little cover.Amy: Yeah The old rip off afterwards would be a bit of a situation.Eddy: Oh, that's funny. Well, we've had a good chat. It's been awesome. Is there anything we missed or is there anything you wanted to share with our listeners? Amy: I mean, not particularly. I feel like, I feel like we've been on the phone for like 10 minutes. Like normally we just like. Eddy: Yeah. Amy: Chat for hours and hours and hours about everything tattoo. Um. Eddy: I'm pretty sure one night we talked for like four hours. Amy: My face hurts after I talked to you sometimes because I'm laughing or smiling the whole time or like screaming about something. Um, it's funny. It's like, Oh, we're going to do a podcast, but it's just going to be like talking to each other on the phone. But then like, as soon as the whole camera thing happened, I was like, I'm going to be weird. Eddy: My little T-rex arms. Yeah. Amy: Hello, have you been busy. Eddy: I know. I get instantly nervous. Amy: Yeah. I just I just freak out. Um, I guess I'm just like really grateful to have been given a platform to, um, talk about a bunch of different things, um, and the chance to be able to talk about tattooing.Um, yeah, sorry, interruption from the phone call. I was basically just saying that I'm very grateful to have had a platform to talk about, um, tattooing mainly, um, If anyone's ever interested in learning anything about what hand poke is, I'm always happy to share the knowledge that I have. Um, like I said, I'm kind of like, not the, I'm not the one to say what is, or what isn't, um, to be expected of hand poking, but I can definitely talk professional hand poking. Um, and it's really cool to be involved in something that allows us to, uh, Have a bit of a chat and have a voice in the industry. And I'm truly grateful.Eddy: Thank you so much for being a part of it. It's been like it's been, and the best, the last few weeks, just talking to all you amazing artists and I've learnt a great deal. And you know, as much as I'm certainly not a professional interviewer, it's been really great just to have lovely conversations about all the best bits of tattooing.Amy: Yeah. It's um, it's been so fun. I've been listening to the ones that have been released so far, and I'm just like, it's literally just like listening to your friends, chat, hearing people's really cool stuff. I'm like, Oh, cool. Yeah. Like I like talk about that all the time with Eddy and it's really nice to hear what everyone else is up to and uh, I mean, like, uh, like in the past year or two within tattooing I've just met so many amazing people, um, and I feel just like, so lucky to kind of, it might not have been the place that I thought that I would be included in, but I'm so like lucky to have finally found, um, a support network within tattooing, um, and a very inclusive kind of, um, welcoming community of people in tattooing and yeah, I feel like finally, like I have a home it's really nice. Eddy: Absolutely. I feel, I feel the same way. It's so it feels at home having that, that happy little community that we have.Amy: Yeah, we're very fortunate. Eddy: Well for our listeners, you can find the footage of this chat on YouTube with English subtitles. Um, you can follow us on Instagram at not just a girl underscore tattoo for a regular updates, you can also find lots of other information on the blog. I'll link everything in the show notes and be sure to give Amy a follow and send her lots of love because she's amazing and she deserves it. Thank you so much, Amy, for chatting to me today and thank you to all of our listeners for tuning in. We really appreciate you. And I hope everyone has a fabulous day and remembers to fuck patriarchy.Amy: Ah yas.

[tanadrin]

The Book of Names

(Attention conservation notice: fantasy + Linnean taxonomy, 5-6k words, part 1 of about 3; part 2 here)

Tara first suspected her sister had returned to the Rock the evening that Tomasz was killed. She had spent most of that day in the south wing of the Library, in the cavernous Entomology Hall, where even on bright days the sunlight rarely made it down through the rafters to the narrow aisles between the massive specimen cabinets. Savita's expedition had just returned from upcountry. They'd lost half the surveyors trying to pierce the country beyond the White Hills, the worst disaster up country since the Jenolan incident. Tara's job, as a taxonomist, was to begin the slow and difficult work of classifying the samples they'd brought back, determining whether they merited an entry in the book of names, and if so, what those names should be. Maybe she could have waited a few days to start, at least until after the cenotaphs went up in the Explorer's Hall; but the expedition's failure had bitten hard, and Tara didn't know what else she could do to make sure it wasn't in vain.

So she'd pored over the cases on the workbench in her alcove, wooden glass-fronted boxes containing all manner of insects pinned carefully into place; jars with strange creatures curled up against the walls, floating quietly in alcohol; and cuttings of plants, sometimes leaves or flowers or stems or roots, pressed and dried meticulously. She read through the expedition's notes on each as she came to it, occasionally springing up to wander through the stacks in search of compendia or herbaria with potentially related species recorded in them. After what must have been the sixth or seventh case of jewelbeetles, she realized two things. One, she had not eaten at all that day, and was ravenously hungry. Two, that judging by the dull light coming down from the narrow windows above, dusk was fast approaching. She had promised to meet Tomasz to discuss the tutorials on naming for the first-year botany scholars. Though she was often late to her meetings with him, Tomasz was impeccably punctual, and always knew where to find her. She was accustomed to him strolling up to her alcove, and the sudden sinking sensation of realizing she'd forgotten an appointment.

Feeling guilty, she pushed her chair out from the workbench, and set off toward the botanists' hall. It was only when she passed out of the north wing, and saw a small group of junior scholars standing around the library courtyards, that she began to feel like something was wrong. They were looking at each other, and occasionally glancing nervously at the high stone walls of the library, talking intently in low voices Tara could not hear from the top of the steps. As she approached them, two Fellows appeared from the entrance to the eastern galleries. On seeing them, the junior scholars fell silent, and left. The fellows did not even glance at them, or at Tara, but turned toward the front square and strode off, their long, black robes trailing behind them. Tara went to the door to the eastern galleries, and peered in.

The library was the oldest part of the university, and so one of the oldest buildings on the Rock. Its cellars and terraces rose up the sheer southern slope, and some of them cut deeply into its sides. These were among the first things that had been built when they'd settled there, protection both from the harsh weather of the valley, and from the things that dwelt in the forest below. The upper buildings came later, gradually surrounding the narrow courtyards in their midst. Though the north and south wings were newer, carefully planned expansions, built to house the library's ever-growing collections, the eastern galleries had been built earlier, during a middle period of the library's construction. They were long hallways, off which workspaces and living quarters had been built as needed, but also the upper part of the mazelike passages that led down to the lower levels of the library, and off to the east, to the tutorial rooms and scholars' quarters. From the door, Tara could only see down the main gallery a little way. The view was blocked by the passage's slight curve, and the heavy pillars that held it up. None of the doorways or side chambers were visible from here. There was a murmur of voices, but they echoed off the smooth stone walls, and she couldn't make out what they were saying.

She sidled in slowly to avoid calling attention to herself. The main gallery was dim, since there were no windows here, but there was a soft glow of fading daylight from further down, where a large door stood open. That was where the sound was coming from. Tara walked quietly to the door, doing her best to remain unseen by whoever was in the room.

There were a half dozen voices. She recognized the low, stony voice of Therese Durand, one of the seniormost fellows. She was a woman with a permanently annoyed expression, who Tara tried to avoid as a rule. The others were hard to pick out, or were less familiar, but she heard a name. Sadowski. They were talking about Tomasz.

"Er--what are you doing?"

Tara jumped at the sudden noise behind her, and spun around. It was another fellow, Nikula. He was an old man, thin, but still full of energy, like a coiled spring. Despite his heavily lined face and wavering voice, he gave the impression of someone constantly buoyed up, made light by their own irrepressible cheerfulness. Right now, though, he looked entirely different. Heavy. Irritated. Small, even, and terribly sad.

"Dr. Nikula--I'm sorry," Tara said quickly. "What's going on? I heard Tomasz's name."

"You mean you don't know?" Nikula frowned, the lines on his face deepening.

"No. I've been in the library all day. Savita's samples, you know."

"Ah. I see." Nikula sighed. "You'd better come in then."

Tara followed him inside. It was one of the old lecture halls, repurposed some years ago for library storage. Dilapidated furniture, broken desks and chairs and cabinets, crowded one side. On the other were stacked crates, the kind library expeditions used to carry back their plant and animal samples, full of whatever miscellaneous rubbish some librarian wanted to be rid of, but couldn't bring herself to throw away. Above the dusty debris towered three tall windows, whose thick glass showed in a dim light the early evening mist that often gathered about the Rock, and through which, far below, the tops of the trees of the forest below could just barely be seen. What grabbed Tara's attention immediately, though, was the body lying in the middle of the hall, in the clear space between the piles of junk on either side.

It was Tomasz, in his dark red botanist's gown, stretched out as though he had fallen from a great height. His eyes were cast up at the ceiling, his arms flung out at either side. It wasn't a fall that had killed him, though. A long jungle knife, one of the curved blades you used to hack through the underbrush and take plant samples out in the forest, lay on the polished stone floor next to him. Thick, dark blood was soaked into his gown, and had pooled beneath him. Around Tomasz stood what looked like half the senior common room--several fellows, including Durand, but also the Provost, and Toal, the president of the university senate. They all fell silent when Tara and Nikula entered the room.

"Oh my God," Tara said quietly. "What happened?" She stared in disbelief at Tomasz's body. It was impossible to square what she'd been thinking only a moment ago--I'll meet Tomasz, right after dinner, we'll talk about the junior scholars, maybe tell him about the beetles--with the thing she was seeing in front of her. There was kind of a numb tingle in her limbs, and a slight dizzy feeling.

"That's what we'd like to know," Nikula said. "The porters found him this morning, and the Provost was summoned. We tried to keep things quiet, but you know how it is. The whole Rock knew by midday."

"Knew what?" Tara asked thickly.

"That Dr. Sadowski has been murdered."

Tara shook her head in disbelief, and walked over to Tomasz's body. She wasn't sure what she should be feeling right now. Was it this? There was shock, and a little bit of horror, but no anger, and surprisingly little grief. Tomasz had been one of her better friends. He'd never been her teacher, since her field was taxonomy specifically, and his calling had been as a field botanist, but he'd certainly been a mentor to her. She'd respected him immensely even as a junior scholar. When she got her apprenticeship, he became something more like a colleague, an equal, despite the fact he was nearly thirty years older, and one of the most senior members of the faculty. He never treated her with anything other than the respect due to another academic. She was serious, focused most of the time, a trait that ran in her family, and he was usually carefree, but they'd gotten along famously. He'd been the older brother she never had, her source of stability after Laura left. And now he was dead. And Tara had no idea how she should react.

His face was not especially disturbed. Not peaceful either, really. He just looked dead. Maybe a little surprised, as though someone had tapped him on the shoulder when he thought he was alone, but she could have been imagining that. His gown was torn, where the blade had entered, and his skin was terribly pale.

"Oh, Tomasz," Tara said quietly.

She knelt down beside him and touched his face. His skin was now quite cold, and his expression, which she only ever thought of as smiling or laughing or being driven by some animated lecture on flowering plants, was unnaturally slack.

"Dr. Wain?"

Tara looked up. It was the Provost, a steelhaired woman in her late sixties, who Tara had only ever spoken to at the odd meeting of the university senate. Even then, only briefly.

"Provost."

"I know you and Dr. Sadowski were friends."

Tara nodded.

"He was one of the only close friends I had after--well, after Laura disappeared," she said.

The Provost looked down at Tomasz, and closed her eyes. A brief look of anger mixed with disgust passed over her features, then she seemed to calm herself.

"This is an ugly thing, what's happened here," the Provost said.

"What are we going to do about it?" Tara asked. "It's just us out here. It's not like this has ever happened before."

"That's what the fellows and I have been discussing," the Provost said. "We're going to find out who did this, in any case."

"And then?"

The Provost shook her head. "I can't say I know for sure right now. We've got to protect ourselves from the sort of person who would do... this, in any case. Are you going to be all right?"

"Yes. Maybe. I don't know." Tara shrugged. "Maybe it hasn't really hit me yet."

The Provost put a maternal hand on Tara's shoulder, or tried to, anyway. The gesture came off as a bit stiff. "Maybe you should go back to your rooms and lie down. Or better yet, go see your parents. I wouldn't like you to be alone right now."

Tara nodded. "Thank you for your concern, Provost. I'll be fine."

"Provost? Might I suggest something?" Nikula said quietly.

"Go ahead."

"Out of respect for the dead, you understand. And, well, because this is the site of a murder. Perhaps for now we should keep this room off-limits except to fellows and senior faculty such as yourself."

The Provost looked at Tara, then at Nikula. "Dr. Nikula, I hardly think--" she began.

"No, it's all right," Tara said. "I'll go. I don't think this is how I'd like to remember Tomasz anyway." She stood, and smoothed her gown with one hand. "Thank you for your kindness, Provost. I don't think I'll be at commons this evening. I may do as you suggest, and go see my parents." She nodded to Nikula, and excused herself, heading back out into the gallery in the direction of front square.

She had noticed two things while she was kneeling there, beside Tomasz, and decided on a third. The first thing she had seen was a small slip of paper, half-hidden under Tomasz's body. It had a list of numbers on it, irregular and unordered, all written in neat columns in Tomasz's extraordinarily precise hand. It was now in her pocket, though when exactly the urge to take it and squirrel it away there had actually come over her, she could not have said. The second thing she noticed was the jungle knife. It was a single piece of metal, hilt and blade cast together, and old, with dust and dirt accumulated on it from time and use. Still faintly visible on the hilt were two initials, scratched there in a distinct, curled shape: L.W.

What Tara had decided was this: she was going to find whoever was responsible for Tomasz's murder. She wasn't sure what she was going to do after that. Revenge, maybe? Or just hand them over to the Provost. But even though this purpose was cemented in her thoughts, she was still troubled. Perhaps it was just because her friend was dead, and there was nothing she could do about that. But probably it also had something to do with those initials on the knife, since as long as Tara could remember, that had been how her sister had signed her name.

* * *

When Tara was first starting out, Laura had assured her that the book of names would never be complete. It was too vast a project, she said. There was infinite possibility in the dark forests, in its shallow pools and swift-running rivers, and it was arrogant beyond belief for people to think that they could set down in one place, and for all time, the name of every living thing in the wide world, to categorize and classify them all according to their natures and relationships. Nature was all about subtle variations, Laura reminded her. A species, a subspecies, a genus, an order--these were human inventions that nothing in the world without need obey.

But they do obey them, Tara had answered. It was one of the few simple facts you could not deny about the world: names shaped it, held it up, fixed it in place. To name a species was to make it appear. Laura hoped, maybe, to dissuade Tara from her chosen profession, but she misread her sister. The idea of an endless task wasn't something that made Tara despair. On the contrary, it filled her with with wonder. If the world was truly as endless as Laura said, Tara could spend her whole life discovering new species, adding specimens to the great Library, and filling out their pages in the book. She could think of nothing she would rather do. She lay in bed sometimes at night, in her narrow stone room, high above the treetops of the valley that surrounded them, listening to the eerie calls of the creatures in the darkness below, sometimes seeing strange shapes dark across the sky, momentarily obscuring the light of the stars. She wondered about those beasts. She longed to study them, to hold them in place, so she could trace the shapes of their wings and legs and eyes. To learn everything she could about them.

In the end, of course, Tara became a taxonomist like her sister had been. It was a turning point in their relationship, even though she was following in Laura's footsteps. Laura had always been smart, and kind, and brave. As long as Tara could remember, she had idolized her older sister. Laura had a quick wit and a discerning eye, to say nothing of an incredible attention to detail. These were the qualities, her professors said, which distinguished a good taxonomist from a great one. She was studious, and while never given to humility, not consumed with arrogance. She knew her weaknesses; it was only that she had very few. So all Tara had ever wanted was to be a taxonomist, too. But something changed for Laura, and Tara was never able to pin down exactly when that change occurred. Perhaps it was the Jenolan expedition, when Ezra was killed. The loss of their friend, Laura's first real love, was a terrible blow. He was an apprentice botanist, and would have been content to stay at home, to study whatever samples Laura brought back to the university. He was happiest there, examining new leaves under a magnifying glass, or lecturing to his students. But Laura had insisted he go, insisted he see something of the world beyond the Rock. Or maybe it was earlier, during university, when gazing at the endless rows of glass cases which held thousands on thousands of glittering moths and bright, lissome insects, stretching into the dim loft above her. You could imagine, in a place like that, the weight of an endless task bearing down on you like a sudden avalanche. Or maybe it was just a slow collapse, as happened to everyone when youthful ambition begins to give way under the slow, irresistible pressure of life, carrying you along and burying you.

By the time Tara was accepted among the taxonomists to learn the first of the names, Laura had begun to alienate herself from the others. She became reclusive, spending more time in her rooms, taking on fewer and fewer apprentices. She argued with the Fellows and the Library committees, and stopped speaking to their parents altogether. One evening, just after commons, Tara heard whispers among older scholars--Laura had resigned her position. Two weeks later, she disappeared from the Rock entirely. They searched for her for over a year, in vain. Tara knew where she'd gone. Deep into the dark forest--the only place she could go. And Tara understood she would, in all likelihood, never see her sister again.

Tara's parents mourned Laura, certain she was already gone. They asked that her name be added to the list of lost scholars, and they etched her portrait into an empty niche in the catacombs below the Rock. Tara stayed away from the funeral. She found it hard to take seriously when for all she knew, Laura was walking through some distant glade, watching the fallowflies and the great, spiderlike beasts dart through dappled sunlight. She kept her head down, threw herself into her studies with renewed vigor, and when, from time to time, a senior faculty member who had known Laura came to her, and laid a parental hand on her shoulder, and asked her if she was doing all right, Tara just told the truth: I'm fine, she said. I'm dealing with it in my own way. Perhaps this was why Tara gained the reputation of a stoic, a serious scholar, unfazed by her own tragedies. So different from her sister, they said among themselves. Less natural talent, and less ambition, they said, but a hard worker. More focus than the older one ever had. It should not have surprised Tara, then, when she was chosen for an apprenticeship in her third year, two years before most scholars were even considered. The fellows expected great things from her, maybe. But the long, midnight blue gown felt strange on her shoulders, and she couldn't help but wonder if she really deserved the position, if they had only given it to her because she was Laura's sister. But the ring, the silver ring with the crest of the Rock in it, the ring that was given to taxonomists and only to them--for it was their power, and theirs alone, to name the denizens of the world around them, and in doing so, to set forth the order of the world, to add pages to the book of names--that felt right. Everything else, the gown, the alcove in the library with her name on it, the new seat at commons, that was all a distraction. It was the ring that mattered, because with the ring came the names.

* * *

Tomasz's apprentices, alas, knew little. It had been a long shot, in any case. But Tomasz had no family, no spouse or children, and usually when he wasn't occupied with research or fieldwork, he was either teaching young botany scholars or with his apprentices: a dark-haired young man named Deniz, who Tara only knew by sight, and a high-strung girl named Sara that Tara had never met before. She'd found them in the Botanists' Hall, trying to organize Tomasz's student records.

"Where does this leave us?" Sara wanted to know. In truth, Tara had no idea. The university hardly had regulations covering what to do with orphaned apprentices. She offered some vague reassurances, but Sara was deeply unsatisfied.

"Now's not the time to worry about that," Deniz said reproachfully. He had worked for Tomasz longer, and knew him better. Tara was surprised, and a little disappointed in herself, that he seemed to be taking Tomasz's death harder than she was. "When is, then?" Sara demanded. "The sooner this mess gets sorted out, the better. I don't want to get stuck under Dr. Hawford or one of the junior faculty--no offense." Tara raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. "Just--we worked hard to get this apprenticeship," Sara said. "I don't want that to go to waste. I have plans."

"A man is dead," Tara said calmly. "A friend of mine, in fact. I'd like to know why. Perhaps now isn't the time to worry about your career."

"Why are you talking to us, then?" said Deniz. "We don't know anything."

"You worked with him. You knew him. Did he say anything to you? Was he doing anything unusual or out of character?"

Sara shrugged. She seemed bored and irritated by the whole conversation.

"He was stressed a little, maybe?" Deniz said. "I don't know. Exams are coming up. He's been busy writing new papers for the junior scholars. We haven't seen much of him lately."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"In the library. Two days ago. He was looking up those indexes for you."

"Indexes?"

"The ones you asked him for."

Tara narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"He was in the north wing, going through the book of names. I thought he was copying records. He had a notebook, but I didn't see anything in it. And a list. A list of, like, species, their scientific names. I only stopped for a minute to say hi. I asked him what he was working on, you know, to make conversation."

"Or kiss ass," Sara muttered.

"He said he was helping you with something. 'Looking these up for Dr. Wain,' I think were the words he used."

"Did he say anything else?" Tara asked.

"No. Why? Do you think he was lying?"

Tara shook her head. "No, no. I just--look, don't worry about it. He was doing me a favor. It's not important."

The bell for midmorning commons rang, and Deniz and Sara sprang up in unison.

"We should go," Sara said. Tara nodded, and waved them off.

"Of course," she said. "You don't want to be late for commons."

When they were gone, she leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling of the botany hall for a while. A list of species? What was Tomasz looking up in the book of names? Strictly speaking, of course, non-taxonomists were allowed to use the book. Tara just couldn't think of why they would. It was just a list, a chronological record of each species named and classified, in order of its discovery, with a shelf reference to where in the library, or in the university at large, you could find the type specimen of the species in question. Anyone who wanted information about a species could find specimen references and detailed descriptions in any herbarium or compendium in the library, or in their own departmental libraries. And those would actually be organized in a way that made it easy to find what you were looking for. Why was Tomasz hunting through the book? And why in the world would he bother to lie about what he was doing?

She flipped idly through the pile of papers Deniz and Sara had left behind. Student papers, tutorial assignments, old exams. Things the department would need now that the end of term was coming up. Tomasz was famously bad at doing his paperwork, nevermind organizing it. There was nothing like a list here, or a notebook. She could try his rooms, maybe, but God only knew how she'd convince a porter to let her in.

But Tomasz did have a workbench in the library. He wasn't a fellow, so like the junior faculty, he had to make do with rather small rooms, on the far end of the university, inconveniently distant from the botany hall and the library. His solution had been a rather ingenious one--he'd stolen an alcove. The library alcoves were just about big enough for one person to work in, if you weren't greedy about elbow room. They made a poor substitute for a study or a real workspace, if you had any amount of books or samples to work with, and the librarians only gave them out to apprentices, scholars working on their theses, or faculty members who could show a reasonable need. "My rooms are inconveniently located and also too small" wasn't considered reasonable need, so Tomasz had simply stashed extra books and papers in one of the disused alcoves in the south wing, and hoped nobody noticed. As a birthday present a couple of years ago, Tara had stolen the brass plate from the chief librarian's office for the alcove, so it couldn't be handed out to anyone else. Tomasz had laughed uproariously when she presented it to him. From someone as obsessed with the rules as you, he'd said, this is practically a declaration of love.

She went back to the south wing, and searched out the alcove. It was on one of the staircases up to the attics, roomier than most, and quiet, but inconveniently far from the useful parts of the library. That was fine with Tomasz, since he was mostly just storing things there, and he didn't want to call attention to himself. Tara lit the little lamp that hung above the workbench, and it sputtered sulkily to life. There were piles of books and papers here, in nothing resembling an actual organization scheme. Plenty of herbaria, of course, including a few she was sure the librarians had marked down as "missing, presumed lost or destroyed." Some exams she was pretty sure should have been handed back years ago. Sample cases--that was no surprise. Some were Tomasz's own collections, some were from the botany department. Working as methodically as she did when classifying samples, Tara sorted everything into categories--junk, students, old projects, abandoned projects, ongoing projects. She collected the papers carefully, stacking them up, and looking through them for anything resembling a list, or notes on a list, or any hint of something that might require searching through the book of names. Nothing. Lecture notes. A few books of Tara's that she'd lent him, and had written off as lost forever quite some time ago, including her favorite book of poetry. She set them aside, to take back with her. Then she put them back. Not yet, she thought to herself. Worry about that later. Something else, too, though, something she hadn't expected.

Tara had always been close to her sister as a child. As soon as she began expressing an interest in science, Laura had encouraged her. She took her down to the forest's edge below the Rock, to point out the creatures that lurked in the half-light under its eaves, and read to her the stories of university expeditions out into the hills. She loved that her little sister shared her curiosity about the world, and she was eager to show her everything she knew. So when Tara was accepted into the university, she gave her sister a gift: an herbarium, a slim volume with short descriptions of some of the commonest plants found on the Rock and the forest below, along with their names (common and scientific) and the references for their type specimens. Tara inscribed it with a short message--thank you, she said, for giving me the gift of the world around me. It was a simple thing, nothing like the reference works the Library held, lovely perhaps only for the quality of its pictures and the care with which it had been bound. But Laura had treated it as if it were made of gold and jewels. When she had disappeared, she had left all her books and papers behind, and Tara had gone through them herself. But she never found that little herbarium.

"What are you doing here?" Tara muttered to herself. She picked up the book, and looked inside the cover. The inscription was still there, just as Tara remembered it. There was something under it, too, written in Laura's elaborate, curling hand. It took Tara a moment to decipher it. "Forget about Jenolan," she said, reading aloud. "The forest is where we were meant to be."

(next)

[rhianreesillustration]

Studio Visit - Dee Batham and Sharon Robinson at Pin Up UK Tattoo Studio, Sheffield

As soon as we were told we’d need to visit a practitioner in their studio I knew I’d want to go to a tattoo studio. I’ve been to plenty of tattoo studios already, having numerous tattoos myself, but I figured it would be interesting to hang out at one and chat with a tattooist while I’m not being tattooed. Initially I was going to try to go to a local studio (Embody Tattoo in Derby) where I’ve had a few tattoos done by Pippa - unfortunately this fell through but luckily Dee and Sharon were able to save the day at the last minute! 

Dee Batham is the owner of Pin Up UK Tattoo Studio, as well as a tattooist and piercer, and Sharon Robinson is the junior artist there who initially started as an apprentice in August 2019.

Dee Batham

Sharon Robinson 

I know Dee and Sharon through my mum, who’s been getting tattooed by Sharon since she started her apprenticeship, and I also got a sphinx cat tattoo off her back in October (see below). I’m so grateful to both of them for letting me hang out at the studio at such short notice!

Mum came with me to the studio because my car had thrown a mardy so I needed her to drive me up to Sheffield, but that just meant more fun while we were there!

We got to the studio and Dee was decorating the small kitchen in the back, painting it a dark petrol blue - a cancellation that morning had freed up some time to get the boring but necessary jobs done. I guess somewhat ironically it turned out that Dee hates painting and decorating, which just goes to show that aptitude in one area of art doesn’t translate universally!

Sharon meanwhile was working her way through Friday 13th Flash Day appointments - it’s common for tattooists to do a ‘flash day’ (where they have a selection of small pre-drawn designs available to choose from on that day, often for £13 or £31) on Friday 13th. I asked Dee where this came from - apparently people believed that getting the number 13 tattooed on them on Friday 13th would ward off bad luck, but now it’s just a fun thing to do. Sharon’s first appointment was for a super delicate crystal ball design with ‘XIII’ inside.

There was then a brief interlude while Dee pierced a customer’s nipples - they were braver than I could ever be! Sharon then had another flash appointment, this time for a small but still intricately detailed plague doctor mask (which has ended up being quite appropriate with the current pandemic situation!)

While Sharon tattooed and Dee carried on painting I asked some questions about being in the tattoo industry (in between bizarre comments such as ‘bum-kraken’ - I still don’t know the context of that!) I learned that Dee has been in the industry for 22 years - as long as I’ve been alive! - and that she’s a third-generation tattoo artist who grew up in studios. Sharon got into tattooing last year because, to quote her directly, “I liked to draw on my hands in school,” and got her apprenticeship through a friend who knew of one going, which goes to show that contacts are important! She says her experience as an apprentice has been amazing because she’s been able to meet so many great people, and because Dee has been an incredible mentor. Tattoo apprenticeships vary a lot from what I’ve picked up in the past, and really depend on the mentor’s training style - I’d asked Pippa (who I previously mentioned) what her apprenticeship was like, and although she said she enjoyed it her mentor was very hard on her which made it quite stressful.

With Dee being in the industry for so long, I was interested to see how she thinks it’s changed. It’s always been a boys’ club according to her, which I can definitely see, and used to be very elitist with supplies being hard to get unless you knew the right people or knew how to make your own. Nowadays however the industry is much more accessible, although the surge in popularity of tattoos might not be such a good thing - what she terms the “Kat Von D era” has hurt the industry in her opinion. The likes of tattoo artists such as Kat Von D (a somewhat controversial figure these days) made tattooing fashionable and made a lot of people think it’s easy to do - spoiler alert: it’s not.

Kat Von D

Sharon and Dee are obviously both women in the tattoo industry, and there’s definitely been a growth in female tattooists but I wanted to know if it’s still a “boys’ club,” or if the balance has tipped at all. Dee said that it very much is still a boys’ club, and it’s tough being a woman in a male-dominated industry; you have to be thick-skinned and “one of the boys,” able to give as good as you get, in order to survive in the industry. This was really interesting to hear, because as an outsider following a lot of women in the industry, and tattooed by as many women as by men, I thought maybe it was levelling out but apparently that isn’t the case. While this is somewhat disheartening, especially as a woman wanting to go into tattooing, it hasn’t put me off and I hope that it will change in the future. There are so many incredible female tattooists already (I mentioned a few in my previous blog post) and Dee and Sharon are further examples of this, so I really hope that female presence in the industry will encourage more women to take it up.

Although getting to draw on people for a living might seem like an easy job to some, as with all jobs it comes with its challenges. Dee said that the most challenging thing about it is the people, because “people are fickle.” Customers won’t always listen to the advice they’re given regarding aftercare, what designs will work, and what can and can’t be done. “Because tattooing is very much referral based you need to have a good reputation and be personable to a degree,” according to Dee, however “you can’t hold their hand and go home and be their mum,” you have to trust that they’ll listen to you. I found it quite funny that a job that relies almost entirely on people also has people as its biggest downside!

Because I’m keen to go into tattooing myself, I wondered what advice Dee might have for anyone hoping to go into the industry:

“Have a good portfolio, ask at reputable studios when looking for an apprenticeship. Perseverance is important. You need to be thick skinned because it is tough.”

This is pretty good advice to be honest and nothing I wasn’t expecting to hear. Asking at reputable studios is important because if you have a bad teacher you’re not going to put out good work, and with something like tattooing it’s vital that you learn the correct techniques and hygiene procedures. Knowing what I know now about how male-dominated the industry still is, perseverance would be especially relevant to women wanting to start out as tattooists. I may be quite an emotionally sensitive person but when I need to I’m able to put up quite a tough front - having worked on all male teams (apart from myself obviously) in the past, being able to act like one of the boys is nothing new to me, so I’d like to think I’d be able to cut it and certainly develop a much tougher exterior with experience. The thing I most need to work on now is a proper working portfolio specific to getting an apprenticeship - while I have pieces I’ve done for uni and work I’ve done in my own time, I haven’t done much that could translate to tattooing in a while. Now that we’re in lockdown due to the pandemic and I have a ridiculous amount of free time on my hands, I’m definitely going to crack on with that.

Let’s be honest, you can’t really go to a tattoo studio and not come out with a tattoo, especially when they’re only £13. Sharon had space left in the afternoon after finishing the rest of her appointments, so mum and I both got some small tattoos from her. Mum got a little sphinx cat head, and I got a matchstick with a smoky number 13 coming off it.

Mum being tattooed.

The finished cat!

Stencil on and ready to go!

All done!

Two light stabbings later, Sharon and Dee gave us a lovely hug each and we left them to it to close up the studio. I had a great day hanging out with them, and once we’re out of lockdown I’ve got more tattoos booked with Sharon! I left with a better sense of what I need to do to get into the industry and while I’m nervous about it I definitely feel more motivated.