#fine line tattoo shops near me

[lumiatattoo]

Tattoo Shop Miami | Best Tattoo Ideas Gallery Miami - Lumia Tattoo Gallery

At Lumia Tattoo Studio, we take pride in our carefully selected team of skilled tattoo artists, who are dedicated to providing a one-of-a-kind tattoo experience. Their expertise spans various styles, ensuring we can bring any design or concept to life. Whether you desire a small, subtle tattoo or a full-sleeve masterpiece, our team has the knowledge and artistry to exceed your expectations.

[classictouchtattoos]

Classic Touch Tattoos | Tattoo Shop | Tattoo Artist in Venice CA

Ours is a well-reputed Tattoo shop in Venice CA; We offer a range of tattoo styles, including traditional, fine line black and grey, and lettering, to suit your specific needs. Our experienced professionals will work with you to create a custom design that reflects your personal style and preferences. We use only the highest-quality ink and equipment to ensure that your tattoo is vibrant, long-lasting, and meets our rigorous safety standards. Moreover, as a leading Tattoo artist in Venice CA, we have the talent and creativity to bring your ideas to life. From small, intricate tattoos to large-scale, full-sleeve designs, we have you covered. So, if you want to schedule an appointment, call or visit us today.

[korgidorgi]

Alex Danvers x Tattooist!Reader

Word Count: 6,361

Warnings: homophobic slurs, tattoo needles

Summary: Alex keeps scheduling tattoo appointments with you ;3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The woman nods, fidgeting with her fingers.

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, no.” She answers.

“Okay, cool,” you respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, there’s fine,” she confirms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jees,” she sighs.

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

“I feel you,” she agrees.

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

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

She nods along to your procedure.

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

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

“Thank you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He snorts. “Gay? Shit? Fag?”

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

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

“Can you give me your arm?” You ask.

“You’re not touching me,” he quips.

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

“Fine,” he huffs yet again.

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

“Ow!” He screams. “Bitch!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“NO!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long were you there?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is what it is,” you sigh.

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

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

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

“I’m glad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” you accept, smiling at her.

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

“Want any?” You offer to her.

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

She hands you her and her sisters ID to you.

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

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

“Oh god—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep!” The sister chirps.

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Kara picked them,” Alex replies.

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

“Alex talked me into it,” Kara adds.

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

“Of course she did,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” she admits.

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

“Uh, no.” She shyly admits.

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

You grab your machine and the needle.

“Are you nervous about needles?” You ask.

“Only if they’re stabbing me.”

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

“Okay..” she sits on the table.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love it!” She confirms.

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

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

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

“Okay, thank you!” Kara exclaims.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bye, Y/N!” Kara waves.

“See you,” Alex follows.

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You begin typing again, fingers flying over the keyboard.

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

Awesome! Thank you so much! :)

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The fish tank is new,” she observes.

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

“Looks amazing,” she awes at the setup.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hums in response before you continue.

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

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

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

“Do you have a snake at home?”

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

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

You chuckle out a “thanks,” to her.

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

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

“Wow,” she breathes, “that’s a lot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pffttt! Too many,” you humorously state.

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

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

“Jesus—“

You hum, letting a chuckle escape your lips.

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

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

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

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

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

“What, do you have a problem with—“

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

She laughs with you as you continue inking her skin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice,” you congratulate her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just ask me out already.”

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

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

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

“Three o’clock?” You ask.

“I’ll pick you up,” she offers.

“Deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a date then,” she agrees.

•••

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

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

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

“Hop on,” Alex greets.

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

[ryder-writes]

A Small Road Trip Stop- Tate Frost x GN!Reader

CW: Tate Frost ooc? Ive never played the game so uhh sorry if he is, blood, dirty thoughts

A/n: As I said above, I have never played this game, so if some details are not canon, I'm sorry. Feel free to let me know so I can fix it :]! (Also Jowey ik you're reading this, you're welcome /j)

WC: 1.2k

You walked toward the light source, clutching your coat to your body. There was a snowstorm outside, which you were forced to walk through to reach what looked like the only store around. It was a really small town, surrounded by woods and very off-grid, in your opinion. You were simply driving through, on your way to see family. It was nearing the holiday season, and you had (somehow) gotten a month off.

Although, your family lived a bit away so you had decided to take a little road trip. 

You walked up toward the store and opened the door. The warmth flooded your body, and you sighed contently. You walked in, noticing a man at the checkout. He was wearing a black polo and green jacket, his name tag halfway hidden behind it. His short hair was dirty blonde, and frayed in different directions. It looked messy, but like he at least tried to style it. He didn’t even look at you, his tired eyes looking at a magazine or book of some kind.

You walked away and went to find some dinner, and some drinks/snacks for the next day. You wandered the store, noticing how it sold a lot more than just food. On the side wall, you found a cooler full of drinks. You grabbed two water bottles and a bottle/can of (favorite drink here). They were put down in your basket that you had picked up as you continued to shop. Each row had something that caught your eye, but nothing caught your eye more than the meat section. Standing there, behind the desk, was a man. But oh, was he attractive. He was big, and had prominent tan lines that showed thanks to his black tank top. His hair was tied back into a ponytail, besides the two white strands on the side of his head. You were honestly surprised it didn’t seem to bother him while working. His hair was mostly a mix of brown, however, the white and a some grey were striped in as well. It was voluminous and looked very fluffy. You wanted to run your hands through it. His face was focused as he worked, his purple eyes staring and fluffy brows furrowing. His goatee? Beard? You really didn’t know what to call it, but mixed with his sideburns it increased his attractiveness. If that was even possible. He finished whatever he was doing (you were too busy admiring him to care or notice what exactly). He wiped his calloused hands on his apron. The apron was covered in blood, but that was to be expected considering his place in the store and meat in the counter in front of him. As he moved, you noticed the tattoos on his arms; some cards and a wolf.

"Do you need help with somthin'? I can feel ya staring."

You jumped at the sudden voice, eyes snapping over to him. He chuckles. Your face immediately starts turning red as the blush creeped up your face. You had dropped your basket in embarrassment, the contents spilling onto the floor. You gasped in surprise and bent down to pick it up. You wished you would disappear. Why couldn't you have embarressed yourself in front of that tired cashier?! You were to caught up in your embarrassment and annoyance at yourself to notice him. He bent down next to you and started to help you pick up.

"Oh, you don’t have to do that!" You scrambled, snapping out of your trance and starting to pick up the items.

"It's fine. I wasn’t doin' anythin' anyway." He shrugs. You make the mistake of looking up at him. Good lord. He was a lot bigger up close, and his chest… His chest was huge. Your eyes flick down to his titties. You wanted to squeeze them so bad. Same with his stomach, which hung a little bit over his apron. Your blushed deepened, if that was even possible. You shoved the rest of your items back into your basket and stood up, begging your shaky legs to cooperate. He stood up as well, towering over you.

"Name's Tate, by the way." He extended his hand for you to shake.

"I'm Y/n." You say, shaking his hand. It was so warm and big. You wondered what it would feel like wrapped around your-

"Whatcha doing all the way out here?" He asks, crossing his arms.

"I'm on my way to visit family and I just wanted to pick up some things." You answer honestly. For some reason, you didn’t feel threatened by him despite his size and stature.

"Ah, okay. Where you from, Sha?" He looks interested in you- or your story. Most likely your story.

"Not too far from here, I just started driving yesterday." He looked you up and down. "And, uhm, 'sha'?" You were visibly confused.

"Consider it a term of endearment." He smirked. Oh, you wanted this man. He took a step closer to you. "You stayin' for long?"

"No, just for tonight." He tsked.

"Shame, I would like to get to know you better." He leaned down so your face was an inch from his. You could feel his warm breath on your lips. You were sure you looked so stupid, face flushed and eyes wide. He chuckled.

"Cute." Your brain stopped working. He thought you were cute? And his face was so close; you could feel his warmth. You somehow felt at ease. "You got somewhere ta stay?" He asked, snapping you out of our trance.

"Oh no, I was just gonna sleep in my car." He hummed.

"I'd be happy to let ya stay over at my place" He offered. "Make sure ya stay warm n' safe." Were you dreaming? You had to be dreaming. Now, you knew that staying at a stranger's place was a bad idea. But he was so warm… and he just felt down to earth and safe. You imagined how safe you would feel in his arms. But you didn’t want to be rude. It seemed as though he could read your thoughts. "Don’t worry, your not intrudin' or anythin'" He assured. You exhaled.

"That might be nice, yeah." You admitted. He smiled.

"Great," He looked at the clock on the wall. "My shift ends in 30 minutes."

You followed him to the back and talked for the rest of his shift, as no on else came into the store. As he went into the back to grab his stuff, you walked toward the front and paid for your stuff. The cashier didn’t say much, just reading your total off the screen. You didn’t mind, though. You figured he was exhausted and knowing you were going home with Tate kept you from judging. You met up with Tate by the doors and walked out as we waved the cashier goodbye.

-

After following Tate to his place, he helped you carry some stuff inside. He lived in a trailer, and it was decorated with antlers and an 'X' made out of axes on the wall. It was colder than you expected inside, but from the amount of warmth that he gave off you weren't necessarily surprised. He put your stuff down before locking the door behind you.

"So, Sha, ya want somthin' to eat?" He smirked, a mischievous glare in his eyes. You gulped. Maybe you had made a mistake.

A/n Pt. 2: Thanks for reading! As someone who simps for Tate myself, this was fun to write. If u also like Pokémon/MHA, here is my masterlist (no pressure to read anything ofc)

[paradisepoisoned]

I'm drunk, and work is consuming my life, so I give you the Death Note tattoo AU no one asked for.

-L was a world-famous tattoo artist, but no one really knows what he looks like except his clients and disgruntled employees, but his work is well recognized. Moved to New York to open his own tattoo shop but he's kinda a mystery in the industry and he's one of those owners that doesn't really show up to his own business anymore he rarely tattoos and when he does its only things he wants to do. Will fuck off to Cambodia for a month or something and then randomly show up to collect money and sleep there for a week.

 -L has only ever took two apprentices and they were Mello and Near. He took them on at the same time and it was a complete disaster. L refuses to take on an apprentice ever again

-Near specializes in sacred geometry, mandalas, and all that tedious crazy shit. Line work is impeccable. I feel like he'd be great at lettering and that fine line bullshit that everyone else hates. No one takes him seriously as an artist cause he looks like he's fucking twelve. He has amazing work but is absolutely horrible with clients due to his non existent social skills.

-Mello is the black and gray guy. He's one of those guys who just whips out a 23 mag and goes to town and bangs out a half sleeve in a few hours. I can see him doing crazy horror shit and those big crazy religious pieces like praying hands statues and all that good shit. He doesn't do color and doesn't like anything with a lot of linework. Looks scary but kinda a softie. 

-Near is great at linework. Mello is great at shading. They compete and fight on a regular basis. They have an ongoing silent war stealing each other's supplies,clients, etc. (They're secretly in love tho, deal with it)

-Matt definitely the anime bruh I could see him doing some super colorful new school anime type shit he's a street shop kinda guy at heart tho hell do the dirty jobs no one else wants to do and he's FAST he can bang out your little infinity symbol butterfly feather clusterfuck matching finger tattoo with your 13 friends no problem. He wears goggles while tattooinglmaoaoa idk why, but he also gives me big piercer energy, lol 

-I'm sorry but I can't leave out Linda. I feel like she's the color girl. Specializes in cover ups and botanical tattoos but shes well rounded and can take mostly anything that walks in. Probably the most organized artist out of all of them and keeps the shop from falling apart on a daily basis. I feel like L also trusts her to be the one to manage the shop while he's not there since the others are all completely unhinged, lol. Shop mom 100%

-Matt and Mello hit the bar at least once a week after work and talk shit till 4am 

-B Specializes in trash polka fucking fight me on it.

-B and L apprenticed together and were working together when L opened his own shop but B kinda went down a dark path and him and L drifted apart and now have beef so B is the artist no one talks about (except Mello cause I feel B woulda played a big part in his apprenticeship) 

-B also kinda legitimately tried to burn the whole shop down before he left soooooo...

-L has kept B's room open for years, hoping he gets his shit together one day and comes back. 

[elchicodenim]

1107 | Ray (Kris's childhood friend) Weibo livestream

"Let me tell you something regarding the isolate issue (Kris's whereabouts) it's not convenient for me to answer you. But I do care about his family so I've already contacted Aunty (Kris' mom) and his family and I'll protect them so you can rest assured." "Thank you, thank you for supporting us, supporting him, being there for him, we miss him, we love him. I know for a fact that you know, I stand firm to this that he did not do those things and I believe him, so thank you for being there."

Ray said that Kris got this tattoo for Meigeni, and also actually encouraged him to get his first tattoo. Ray met Kris in 2020 and all they talked about was tattoos, Ray said "the tattoo is so cute" so he decided to get this tattoo too. He kept the promise he had made to Kris. When they met in 2020 they ended up talking until nearly morning, Kris was so into the idea that he wanted to go to a tattoo shop right then, it was like at 3-4am. Ray was hesitating though and ended up passing out on him since he had work the next day.

Ray talked about the MV for Throwback. It was in 2020 when he met Kris at a race track in CA. Kris told Ray to go be his copilot, something Ray had no experience in and Kris was already a pro. When Kris drove 3 laps, Ray thought he was fine and that it was over, but Kris kept driving until Ray got dizzy, he was so dizzy that he passed out several times. Every time Kris would see Ray he would pass out he asked him, "you okay bro? you good bro?" and Ray said "yeah yeah". Kris kept driving until the 10th lap. Ray looked like couldn't take it anymore, so Kris stopped before Ray actually passed out.

Ray shared how Kris' biggest dream was to make it to the NBA but it was too difficult, so when Kris returned to Vancouver from Guangzhou he focused on practicing dancing seriously then he went to an audition and fly to Korea. Later came back to Ray asking if he'd want to give it a try since Ray is 182 cm, so Ray decided to go for it but after waiting in line for three hours without getting anywhere near the audition, he gave up and went back home.

Ray said they didn't get to see each other in person very often, but every time they met, they talked for a long time, like chatterboxes, about everything. Ray was 12 and Kris was 13 when they met at the Guangzhou Sports School, they both came from Vancouver, that's how they started to get to know each other, either by eating McDonald's or KFC, or everything else. They both speak English, Chinese, and Cantonese. They both communicated mostly by email (Kris really loves to use email, they have been online friends for 10 years), Kris even sent a special email to Ray before his debut.

As soon as Ray saw that comment questioning his friendship with Kris, he made it clear that he is his true friend. "Of course I am a real friend, if you don't know me, then you don't know me, that's fine."

"There's always hope, always hope. That's why we're here, that's why I'm here alright, to show you guys that I'm here. We're always supporting him no matter what."

[cesium-sheep]

tattoo get, report for @ceylonsilvergirl below <3

I went to Rhiannon at Strange Magic Tattoo, they were very communicative and easy to talk to, very invested in my comfort etc. they used a cordless needle gun, which they say is much quieter. this was on my left thigh.

pain: it feels about the same as digging out an ingrown hair with sharp tweezers. better than getting a line set for a blood draw even accounting for the relative durations. I would say that it feels like it's about to punch through and hurt worse than it actually does which may psych people out into thinking it's more painful than it is, but it always stays on the near side of that little barrier. this took technically an hour but I would guess like 40 minutes of actual inking? and it was very easy. but bear in mind I have chronic pain and am a professional patient so I have to sit through worse for less all the time anyway. tbh my random ambient aches like the patch that reacted to my exfoliant last night are currently worse than the site, although it was sprayed with bactine which is a topical anesthetic.

appointment scheduling: this shop was appointment only, they had both a google form and a contact email that went to the main shop who then gave me the artist's email. I had to follow up once after the initial email as they had just come back from vacation and the forwarded email probably got lost. I sent them the image I had drawn and a description of what it was and where I wanted it as well as some relevant info like this is my first tattoo, I'd like to have someone with me for cripple reasons, etc. they gave me their hourly rate and a time estimate. this shop also requires a deposit to hold the appointment, which counts towards the total bill and which I was able to send to the artist directly.

the actual appointment: skipped the two closest doses of prescribed aspirin, filled out a consent form, got the area cleaned/shaved and the stencil applied for approval, let that dry down and then lay down with my leg supported. they spent time talking through what they used, what they were doing, and what they were going to do. the music was a little too loud but whatever. we chatted amiably while they worked and it was generally very easy. I wore my loose pajama pants so I could roll them up to expose the site without cutting off circulation. they use second skin, so I basically just don't touch it for 3 days then regularly clean and moisturize after that. showering etc is still fine from the getgo. there were minor modifications to the design that were not sketched out but were verbally agreed upon beforehand. the artist, matt, and me were the only ones there.

price: another shop gave me an estimate of $350 for the same design, but possibly due to more communication beforehand this was $180+tip for 1 hour of work. I tipped 20% since I have heard that's standard and also it was all the money I technically had spendable plus $2.

[secret-swords-speakeasy]

HERO NAME: Eons

CIVILIAN NAME: [REDACTED] (revealed after the event!)

PRONOUNS: cieyr/cieyrie/cieyrs/cieyrself, they/them, her/herself (on occasion)

POWER(S): Unknown, even to herself, sorta. Cieyrie knows it has to do with Shifting, it’s like shapeshifting, but cieyr knows cieyr can do more than a normal Shifter. Cieyr hasn’t found a limit to their power yet. There’s also another thing, but cieyr doesn’t really talk about that one

GUILD/AFFILIATION: um, no? I mean, does college count? I can art?

CONNECTIONS: None, really. As long as you do right by her, and her morals, than cieyrie’s fine with you. Cieyr finds it near laughable to think that cieyrie’d have a friend.

WHY YOU’RE HERE: The bouncer noticed me I guess? And had me follow her? I swear I wasn’t asleep in my nook before!

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Eons is an unassuming face in an unassuming world, at first glance. Though many features seem to change from one glance to the next, there are few things that rarely change.

The weirdly shaped birthmarks behind each eye, both a startling white. Cieyr eyes, such large dark things, speaking of wisdom beyond their years. A beautiful pair of large Eagle wings+tail feathers that cieyr seems to try and hide whenever possible, Eons’ long brown—but sometimes white—hair that just scrapes past their knees, in barely kempt braids. The shine of such sharp, pointed white teeth, like that of a predatory animals, cieyr various small tattoos, the most notable are the thin lines that run down cieyr chin. And perhaps most notable of all, her birdy legs, and their 4 tall curving horns atop and aside her head.

Eons is a lanky being, standing just over (by 1/2 an inch) 6ft, a great accomplishment of hers, (they never thought they’d get farther than 5ft 4) but with that came the additional 15 20 inches of horn, so doorways and Eons don’t mix well. (Yeah! Curse you dorways, you—)

Concerning cieyr costume, well Eons doesn’t quite have one. Cieyrie’s in college, cieyr doesn’t need a third side-gig. But if you do see her in the speakeasy, cieyr’ll be in a leather jacket, some jeans and shiny silver jewelry. Like the scrap piece of silver cieyr turned into a pretty piece for her horns

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Despite what Eons has said about cieyrself, they most certainly were asleep in cieyr nook they found themselves.

Despite everything, Eons is just a broke, perpetually stressed out, college kid, despite them never really buying cieyrself anything.

If Eons isn’t at school, or asleep at home, cieyr is most definitely in the shop, in the nook cieyrie found for cieyrself, doing homework, light preening, reading, or creating art/artsy projects to sell for cieyr business.

Eons, who will not tell anyone, does regularly fall asleep in the Nook next to the hidden stairway. Every day cieyr gets here mid-morning, and leaves just before closing, if they’re not in class. Cieyr honestly juste overworks herself. Eons is lonely, but will not trust anyone to be there for her. Cieyrie is also a cynic, who holds no hope or love for people.

Cieyr may seem shy and meek now, but that can and will change when cieyrie’s deemed it fit.

Eons likes shiny and high places

Eons also has something strange going on with cieyr ears, no ones ever quite remembered if they were human or bird or something else entirely.

MMA

sorry for the absolute word dump

why can’t I write this much normally?

sorry! mind the doorways! we try to keep them tall considering most of our patrons aren’t of… typical body-type, but you might still have to keep watch on those. we do also have a “no flying” rule in the bar, so if you could… anyway, welcome to the secret swords speakeasy!

[atmospheretattoo]

Find the Perfect Tattoo at Atmosphere Tattoo Your Local Destination for Ink Dreams

Getting a tattoo is more than just adding ink to your skin—it's a way to express your personality, tell your story, and create a piece of art that lasts a lifetime. If you're on the lookout for the perfect place to get your next tattoo, look no further than Atmosphere Tattoo. Conveniently located near you, Atmosphere Tattoo offers a unique blend of talent, creativity, and a welcoming environment that ensures your tattoo experience is nothing short of extraordinary.

Talented Artists

At Atmosphere Tattoo, we pride ourselves on having a team of highly skilled and talented artists. Each artist brings their own unique style and expertise to the table, whether you're looking for intricate black and gray work, vibrant color tattoos, delicate fine line designs, or bold traditional pieces. Our artists are not only masters of their craft but also passionate about creating custom designs that perfectly capture your vision.

A Welcoming Atmosphere

Walking into a tattoo studio for the first time can be intimidating, but at Atmosphere Tattoo, we strive to create a welcoming and comfortable environment for all our clients. From the moment you step through our doors, you'll be greeted with friendly faces and a relaxed ambiance. We believe that getting a tattoo should be a positive and enjoyable experience, and our team is dedicated to making you feel at ease throughout the entire process.

Personalized Consultations

We understand that getting a tattoo is a deeply personal decision, and we want to ensure that your tattoo is everything you've dreamed of and more. That's why we offer personalized consultations with our artists. During your consultation, you can discuss your ideas, inspirations, and any concerns you may have. Our artists will work closely with you to create a custom design that reflects your individuality and meets your expectations.

Hygiene and Safety

Your safety and well-being are our top priorities at Atmosphere Tattoo. We adhere to the highest standards of hygiene and safety to ensure a clean and sterile environment. All our equipment is meticulously sanitized, and we use only disposable needles and tubes to eliminate any risk of cross-contamination. You can trust that you're in safe hands when you choose Atmosphere Tattoo for your next piece of body art.

Convenient Location

Located conveniently near you, Atmosphere Tattoo is easily accessible for anyone in the area. Whether you're a local resident or just visiting, our studio is situated in a prime location that makes it easy to drop by for a consultation or a tattoo session. We aim to be your go-to destination for all your tattoo needs, providing exceptional service right in your neighborhood.

Book Your Appointment Today

Ready to turn your ink dreams into reality? Visit Atmosphere Tattoo and experience the perfect blend of talent, creativity, and a welcoming atmosphere. Our team of skilled artists is eager to work with you and create a tattoo that you'll cherish forever. Don't wait any longer—book your appointment today and take the first step toward getting the tattoo you've always wanted.

For more info :-

tattoo shops near me

tattoo removal services

[lumiatattoo]

Fine Line Tattoo Shops: The Best Places to Get Beautiful and Elegant Fine Line Tattoos

In the world of tattoo artistry, fine line tattoos have emerged as a stunning and delicate trend that continues to captivate ink enthusiasts and art aficionados alike. These tattoos are characterized by their intricate details, thin lines, and elegant designs that often resemble fine art. If you're considering getting a fine line tattoo, finding the right tattoo shop and artist is crucial to ensure the best outcome. In this blog post, we'll explore the enchanting world of fine line tattoos and share some of the best places to get them.

What Are Fine Line Tattoos?

Fine line tattoos are a genre of tattoos that focus on precision and intricate detailing. These tattoos employ exceptionally thin lines and subtle shading techniques to create delicate and refined designs. Whether it's a minimalist floral motif, a dainty animal portrait, or an intricate geometric pattern, fine line tattoos are a testament to the skill and artistry of the tattooist. They offer a unique blend of subtlety and sophistication, making them a popular choice among those seeking a more understated yet elegant form of body art.

Guide to Selecting The Ideal Fine Line Tattoo Shop

When embarking on your journey to find the perfect fine line tattoo shop, there are several essential considerations to keep in mind. Your tattoo is a permanent work of art, and the shop you choose plays a pivotal role in its outcome. Here's a comprehensive guide to assist you in making the right decision:

1. Artist Portfolios:

The first step in your quest for the ideal fine line tattoo shop is to examine the artists' portfolios. Scrutinize their previous work to ensure they possess the skills required for fine line tattoos and can execute your vision flawlessly. Look for a consistent style that aligns with your preferences.

2. Hygiene and Cleanliness:

Hygiene is paramount in the tattoo industry. A reputable fine line tattoo shop prioritizes cleanliness and maintains a sterile environment. Verify that they use fresh needles for each client and dispose of them properly after use. This commitment to cleanliness ensures your safety and the artist's.

3. Customer Reviews:

The experiences of past clients can provide valuable insights into the credibility of a fine line tattoo shop. Take the time to peruse reviews on platforms like Yelp and Google. If the majority of reviews are positive, you can trust that you're in capable hands.

4. Pricing Transparency:

Fine line tattoos often require meticulous attention to detail, which can influence the pricing. Prices can vary significantly from one shop to another. Before committing to a shop, make sure you have a clear understanding of the pricing structure and what is included in the cost.

5. Effective Communication:

Once you've selected a fine line tattoo shop, effective communication with the artists is crucial. To ensure your vision is understood and executed to perfection, bring reference photos and be specific about your expectations. Don't hesitate to ask questions or seek their input on the design.

During consultations, consider asking the following questions to gauge the artist's expertise and compatibility with your desired tattoo:

What's your experience with fine line tattoos?

This question helps you assess the artist's familiarity with the style and their level of expertise.

Have you worked on a design like this before?

Inquiring about their prior experience with similar designs provides insight into their ability to handle your specific request.

Can you walk me through the process of creating this design?

Understanding the artist's creative process and workflow ensures you are on the same page regarding the design's execution.

How long do you think this tattoo will take to complete?

This question helps you manage your expectations regarding the duration of the tattoo session and the overall time needed for completion.

Conclusion

Choosing the perfect fine line tattoo shop is a meticulous process that demands careful consideration. By evaluating artists' portfolios, emphasizing cleanliness, reviewing customer feedback, understanding pricing, and fostering effective communication, you can embark on your tattoo journey with confidence, knowing that your fine line masterpiece will be in the hands of skilled professionals. Fine line tattoos are the perfect option for those in Miami seeking an elegant and versatile choice in body art. Whether you're interested in a simple, minimalist design or a detailed, intricate piece, Lumia Tattoo Shop, a top "tattoo near me" choice, has the expertise and skill to bring your vision to life. Contact us today to book your appointment and experience the beauty of fine line tattoos for yourself.

[delta-pavonis]

*cracks knuckles* Let's do this. My brain ran in a slightly different direction, but I still think it is cute.

Hob entered the bougie gelato shop for the first time on his last day walking from his (former) office to the tube station at half two on a Tuesday. The bell over the door jingled merrily and it was an excellent accompaniment to his elevated, near-giddy mood. Finally, he had done it.

He had walked right into the Senior Partner's corner office at Burgess & Sons, looked the Elder Burgess right in the eye, and said, "Take your capitalist hellscape of a law firm, your willingness to defend white-collar criminals, and your tyrannical bullshit, and shove it up your ass." Then he turned on his heel, saw the Younger Burgess (the only of the aforementioned "Sons" still alive, but Roderick hated the surviving son so much he wasn't going to lop the 's' off of the company's name) standing in the doorway, and grinned like a shark.

"And for your parting gift," Hob pulled the envelope out of the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket and smacked it against Alex's chest with a satisfying thump, "you get a summons. See you in court, you piece of shit."

With a wink and a nod to the administrative assistant trying gamely to not burst into giggles, Hob grabbed the small box of items from his desk and walked out of the office as a high-end corporate defense attorney for the last time.

So here Hob stood, in front of a single freezer case in a narrow little gelato shop, box under one arm, looking at what might be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

And no, it wasn't the chocolate cayenne gelato.

The person at the counter wasn't even looking at Hob. He didn't even shift or say anything when the door to the shop swung open and closed. And the shop was otherwise empty, so there was no way the man didn't hear him come in.

Instead of greeting his customer, the man was staring down into a notebook, frown of concentration marring his finely carved features, temptingly pink lips perched on the back end of a pen. He was, clearly, deeply focused on what he was writing, to the exclusion of all else.

Hob took advantage of the moment and just... stared. Okay, ogled. Outright thirsted, really. Over the man.

His sleeves were rolled up and his collar unbuttoned, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of smooth collar bone and dark chest hair. The black shirt was tucked into black jeans, accentuating the one hip that jutted out as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. One hand gripped the edge of the counter, twisting the inside of his wrist toward Hob and showing off the delicate, pale skin that bore a small tattoo of a lyre and numbers that could be a date.

Except... if those numbers were a date, it was exceedingly recent, not even two months ago. And didn't that leave a foreboding feeling in Hob's gut.

The line work was still astoundingly good, though, and strangely familiar, and he could not help but comment on it.

"Excuse me," he cleared his throat and the poor man visibly startled, eyes darting this way and that before settling on Hob in front of him. Hob knew for certain that he was scanning his surroundings for threats and an exit strategy; he'd seen it often enough in the clients of his who were not actually guilty but had been threatened into taking the fall. Oh dear. Who was this man? "Your tattoo. I can tell even from here the lines are incredible. It is just lovely. Where did you get it?"

He immediately grabbed his own wrist, covering the tattoo. "Ah," his voice was deep, but rusty from disuse, which of course drew Hob's attention back to his mouth, which was being worried into a strawberry red as he paused. "Death's Wings. Uptown."

Hob whistled. That was in no uncertain terms the best in the city. "Well that explains it. Rumor has it this Death who owns that shop hand picks her jobs based on if she feels like she is 'ready' for them, when it is 'their time.' I wouldn't have expected such a small piece from her, just by reputation, but..." He shrugged. It has been a long time since he had run in those circles.

The man pressed his lips into a thin line, which was a tragedy as it hid their color from Hob's sight. "Well, she may have made an exception for her younger brother." Hob's gaze shot up to meet the other man's as his eyebrows made a break for his hairline, but the other man looked away. "We're both adopted, Teleute and I-"

"Teleute?!" Apparently it was Hob's turn to startle. But there was essentially zero chance there were two female tattoo artists named Teleute in London. "Wait... Are you saying that Teleute Endless is now working under the name Death?!" The man just blinked at Hob and nodded once. Hob stuttered over his next words, his hand coming up to tug at his ear. "She... She, ah... She did my ink. A long while ago." He hadn't seen her in an age and a day, since he was tending bar at night while studying for, well, the bar exam.

His tattoo artist's brother looked Hob up and down, skepticism rolling off of him in waves. And, fair enough, Hob was wearing a full suit and tie appropriate for a Fortune 500 Board Room, not someone sporting any ink at all, let alone what he had. "Yeah, I know, don't look like someone who has sat for upwards of 50 hours of work." Icy eyes lingered on his chest, arms, then thighs, asking a question without speaking. "Shoulders, whole back, hips, and a bit of thighs."

Hob hoped he wasn't imagining the momentary flare in the man's nostrils, the glint of interest across his eyes.

He stepped up to the counter and smiled, but it backfired, seemed to make the other man more skittish: he dropped the pen into the notebook and hastily closed it before stepping back. "Can I help you?"

In more ways than one Hob's brain helpfully supplied as he watched those sinful lips form the words. "Yeah, I..." He made a cursory glance up at the menu on the wall. "What pairs well with 'I just quit my incredibly lucrative job so I could stick to my principles and told my cunt boss and his spineless son to fuck off as I left the building triumphant'?"

The man behind the counter smiled, a delightful hint of mischief in his eyes, and Hob's knees turned to gelatin. Fuck, he could level a city block with that smile. Hob would do just about anything for that smile.

"I think I've got just the thing..."

In this particular case, Hob had no problem putting the powers of persuasion that he learned as a lawyer to a much better use: he convinced the man, the shop's owner, Morpheus, to come round and sit with him at a table and enjoy his own scoop of creamy cold perfection. Eventually Hob cracked fully through the facade and then Morpheus couldn't seem to stop talking about different gelato flavors he wanted to develop.

"...but even with me doing my level best to drive customers away from the shop," Morpheus' ice blue eyes looked sideways at Hob and those petal soft lips smirked and, God save him, the gorgeous creature almost looked playful, "I still do not have the free time I want to do the work I really care about."

Hob hummed as he pulled the small spoon out of his mouth through tightened lips, making sure he didn't miss a molecule of the apricot and sour ale concoction. He felt a sparkling thrill as Morpheus' cheeks flushed as he watched. "You could always hire someone to help?"

Morpheus turned in his seat to face forward, folding both arms onto the tabletop. He stared at Hob for a moment and then brought one hand up to rest his chin on. "And who could I possibly find willing to do something like that," he asked, his sour cherry gelato-darkened lips curling into that deadly smile again.

And that was how Hob ended up managing the front of house at a small upscale gelato shop.

Incidentally, it was also how Hob ended up falling in love with the son of a Mafia Don and negotiating terms with the District Attorney and Federal Prosecutors to protect said son and his siblings when they brought the criminal arm of the family to justice.

But that's a totally different story. 😜

Would you ever write an ice cream stand AU where Hob quits a prestigious job to run the stand (a terrible decision) and tries to woo an eccentric artisan ice cream maker (Dream) who is actually from a huge crime family, but literally everything dangerous is played off as silly hi-jinks in favor of dramatizing Hob comparing ice cream flavors to Dream's mouth?

Oddly specific, wow. 👀

The answer is No, because I know nothing about mafia, or ice-cream, and I don't trust myself to write human AU comedy, and this sounds a bit like a comedy. But this prompt is too good to not mention it to my dear pal @delta-pavonis who thrives on mafia AUs and would probably kick this out of the park if she decided to write it~ 🥰

[realcube]

❥ HOW HE CONFESSES

characters ❥ mikey, draken & baji 

tw ❥ the beach, bad driving, mentions of murder and cursing 

cr ❥ requested by anon

a/n ❥ i’ve not read the manga yet :’(

MIKEY 

♥ his love language is shoplifting for you <33

♥ like okay.. in writing it kinda sounds pathetic compared to all the other shit he does but like.. he goes through the effort of personally picking up your favourite snack from the grocery store —instead of getting his toman underling to do it for him — and hiding them under his shirt 

♥ and he thinks about you the whole time he is sprinting away from security 

♥ if that isn’t true love idk what is 

♥ today wasn’t any ol’ day tho, snacks and sweets were going to cut it 

♥ instead, he went for the big shiny rock on a ring he keeps seeing the window of the rock shop on the high street

♥ it was pretty, for a rock, but not pretty enough for anyone in their right mind to think it’s worth £10,000/$14,000/ ¥1,500,000!!!

♥ however, after hearing that price from a salesperson, he knew that stupid rock ring was exactly how he’d win your heart <3 

♥ it was a challenge and it had him working overtime, but after pulling some strings, doing a couple favours, and maybe even inadvertently killing some people (you never know 🤷‍♂️), he managed to get his hands on the pristine stone, which he had come to learn was called a diamond, which was why it was so expensive 

♥ the guy who did him the favour of stealing it initially asked if mikey was planning on proposing and mikey said yes —since asking you out on a date is technically a proposal — and the dude didn’t even question it, he just said good luck

♥ and that sort of energy was exactly what mikey needed right now as he stood behind a wall near your lunch table as he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do 

♥ all your friends had left yet you were still sitting there alone since mikey texted you and asked for you to wait behind, and the fact you actually did filled him with hope from the get-go

♥ “(y/n)! there you are!” mikey greeted as if he didn’t know exactly where you were this whole time. why was his heart thumping so harshly in his chest? and why did he suddenly feel overwhelmingly embarrassed? i mean, he’s not done anything worth being awkward about.. yet.

♥ he didn’t understand. he never usually gets this way around people. but then again, he shouldn’t be surprised since he knew you were an exception from the beginning

♥ “hi, mikey.” you hummed, head propped gently on your arm while you slipped your phone away, “why did you want to see me? is something wrong?”

♥ the slight concern he detected in your voice was enough for him to immediately blurt out, “oh, no! nothing like that! everything is great; i am great and i, erm, hope you are too.” he announced, somewhat glad that your only reaction was a blank stare as it meant he doesn’t feel inclined to explain himself 

♥ “so, uh, i was just wonder if you..” he started, clenching his jaw as he mentally reassured himself. the fact that he felt embarrassed about feeling embarrassed made things infinitely harder from him. he took a deep breath, and spilled

♥ “do you want to go out on a date with me sometime?” he basically screamed, squeezing his eyes shut tight and emptying his left pocket onto the table in front of you so that his special gift would accompany his proposal 

♥ he closed his eyes as if that was going to protect him from rejection, but before he was able to silently rebuke himself, he heard faint sobbing from where he dropped his present 

♥ upon opening his eyes, the shock from the sight before him was enough to give him whiplash

♥ in an unfortunate turn of events, he must’ve emptied the wrong pocket because sitting on the table in front of you was not a diamond ring, but rather a sherbet dip he bought to share with you if you said ‘yes’ to his proposal 

♥ and his suspicions were correct, you were the one crying 

♥ ....

♥ waIT WHY ARE YOU CRYING mikey panicked, frantically looking around for someone who might’ve hurt you, or perhaps someone he’d have to send to A&E

♥ “are you okay?”

♥ “yeah.” you whispered, your light chuckle enough to prevent mikey from worrying any more, “i’m just..” you stuttered, smiling fondly at the blonde, “i’m just really happy. i thought you’d never ask.” 

♥ it was impossible for mikey to conceal the sigh of relief he breathed as he slumped down next to you on the bench, “thank god. i thought someone had threatened you or something.”

♥ “threatened me? why would they do that?” you innocently cocked your head to the side, rubbing your eyes as you did so. 

♥ oh, yeah. mikey hadn’t been fully transparent with you about his.. current employment. as far as you knew, he was a full-time student at ‘toman academy’ and he had a part-time job babysitting (which was hardly a lie, in his opinion)

♥ so you didn’t really know about how he was the leader of the tokyo manji gang or any of that

♥ originally he thought it was fine to keep it a secret, but now that you were officially his partner it would be immoral to not let you know about his affiliation with the gang 

♥ so he decided to tell you over a sherbert <33

♥ “so, are we official?” he cooed, ripping the lollypops out of the bag and popping one in his mouth while offering you the other by tapping it against your lips lightly 

♥ “yep.” you smiled, taking the lolly into your mouth with a smile, glad that he didn’t bring up your little waterworks a few second ago 

♥ but in all honesty, he was preoccupied wondering what the most appropriate way to phrase ‘i am the leader of a gang of delinquents’ would be 

♥ poor little mikey brain working on overdrive 

♥ he decided to pull out the ring, since he still had to give that to you, so while you were entranced by the fat gem glistening under the light in mikey’s possession, he began, “so, babe, do you think being a gang leader is hot?”

DRAKEN

♥ he honestly didn’t have a clue how to ask you out

♥ in fact, he didn’t even know that he had a crush on you until mikey pointed out all of his weird behaviours around you 

♥ so his first instinct was to go to mikey for advice when thinking of ways to ask you out 

♥ but the only idea that mf was to get ‘will you go out with me, (y/n)?’ tattooed onto his ‘thick skull’ and ofc draken wasn’t about to do that

♥ although he did consider it for like.. a minute

♥ (he was like.. hmmmm... well, the tattoo guy does owe me a favour so... maybe i could get it for free?)

♥ (or permanent marker might work???)

♥ anyway, he eventually decided to ask you out the good ol’ fashion way!! by just telling you how he feels

♥ however, once he explained this plan to mikey, he was scoffed and said ‘good luck with that’ in the most condescending tone of voice

♥ draken’s initial instinct was to simply beat up mikey and go ask you out anyway, but this conflict ran deeper than just him and mikey bickering about trivial issues- his whole relationship was on the line! 

♥ so after hearing the leader out, he finally decided on the most appropriate way to confess — just like how all the dudes in the animes mikey and him and watched did it 

♥ by giving you flowers and chocolates <3

♥ and mikey even offered to come into the store with draken and help him choose the goods since mikey was a self-proclaimed ‘love-expert’

♥ draken obviously denied his offer but he came along anyway 

♥ “ooh, ken-chin! look at these ones, they’re on sale.” mikey gasped, happily grabbing a pack of heart-shaped chocolates off the shelf, ripping them open and stuffing his face, “and they are delicious too!”

♥ paying no attention to the fact that mikey had essentially already committed a crime since there was no way he intended to pay for those chocolates, draken mused while eyeing up the rest of the sweets, the bouquet of flowers he had already chosen tucked under his arm, “valentine’s day was a week ago, that’s probably why they are on sale.” 

♥ “draken?” 

♥ a familiar voice from the end of the aisle caused draken to avert his gaze from the chocolates displayed in front of him and instead search for the source of the voice, which happened to be you standing innocently with your basket in-hand

♥ “ah, (y/n),” draken tensed, immediately shoving the bouquet of flowers behind his back at hopefully out of your sight as he put on a forced smile to distract from them too, “what a nice surprise seeing you here.”

♥ “hm?” mikey chimed in, unable to vocalise his curiosity through the chocolates stuffed in his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from trying, “is that the (y/n) you were talking about? the one you were going to conf--” 

♥ “that’s enough outta you.” draken hissed through a fake smile, shoving mikey into the next aisle, which happened to be the snack aisle so, entertained, he decided to stay put

♥ “oh, is that your friend mikey?” you inquired, having only ever heard about mikey through rumours up until now. though none of them exactly matched the image you saw just there

♥ “yep, he’s pain sometimes, but he’s still cool.” draken muttered, awkwardly rolling on the balls of his feet as he waited for a deity to save him from this interaction —  not that he didn’t want to talk to you, it’s just that every second you spend with him, the less likely it becomes that his confession will go as planned

♥ and you only confirmed that with your follow-up question

♥ “i see you’ve got flowers, and you’re looking for chocolates. who’s the special someone?” you teased, poking draken’s cheek playfully (which is one of the many things he only finds comfort in when you do it)

♥ “oh, no one.” he hummed, his coy smile doing a number on your heart rate

♥ “how about you? who is that card for?” he inquired casually, gesturing to the classic pink ‘i have something to tell you... <3′ confession card that was only in-stock during valentine’s day season, that was sitting atop the groceries in your basket

♥ a cocky smirk tugged at his lips — as if to say ‘i won’ — while he watched you become increasingly flustered right in front of him. it was adorable

♥ but he thought it would stop there; stop with him winning the teasing battle, you getting all sheepish then leaving but that apparently wasn’t your plan

♥ instead, you lowered your head and outstretched your arms to give him the card (which was still in the wrapping plastic) 

♥ “red-handed. i bought these with you in mind, draken.” you said, voice barely above a whisper, “but if you don’t accept then that’s fine too, have a nic--”

♥ “who said i don’t accept?” draken grumbled, almost as if he was annoyed, as he took your card and examined the card thoroughly for a couple seconds

♥ then suddenly, he froze. the shock of the realisation leaving him stunned to the point where the only thing he could do was shift his eyes from the card on to you and utter in a terrified tone, “this isn’t, uh, this isn’t a confession, is it?”

♥ you shrugged, “i guess, it is.” 

♥ “damn it.” draken cursed, glaring at the snack aisle and hence mikey, for giving him this stupid idea

♥ “is there a problem?” 

♥ “no.” draken said through gritted teeth before pulling out the bouquet his had hidden behind his back, “but i was meant to confess first.”

♥ your jaw dropped, leaving draken concerned for a second until you instantly pulled him in for a tight hug; another thing he admired about you was that you gave hugs like you were in the mafia, strong enough to cut off his airflow

♥ “double confession!” you squealed, absolutely delighted that draken not only wanted to confess to you, but he had the same idea to come to the shop and buy stuff beforehand

♥ “i guess so.” draken chuckled, handing you the bouquet of flower as soon as you pulled away, “these are for you.” 

♥ you gasped, smiling at how he managed to remember your favourite kind of flower after a single off-handed comment you made ages ago, “thank you!” you hugged them to your chest, “have you already paid for them?”

♥ “no.” draken replied simply. “but they are still yours.”

♥ sometimes it slipped your mind that draken was part of a literal gang since.. he just seemed so normal and humble 

♥ but on some other occasions, it was painfully difficult to consider draken anything close to ‘normal’

♥ and one of those moments was when he was trying to convince security he was pregnant with a flower-baby, and when that evidently didn’t work, he just made a run for it with mikey, whose pants pockets were filled with sweets that trailed behind him where ever he ran

BAJI

♥ he didn’t even ponder about how he was supposed to confess to you for over a second

♥ the idea just came to him instantly and he went with it

♥ the only question he asked was ‘how can i show them how badass i am without bragging?’ and he immediately came up with an answer and rolled with it, no questions asked 

♥ and there was no planning or anything done beforehand either, he literally just texted you ‘where are you?’ at like 7PM and when you replied ‘the park’, he hopped on his bike and sped over 

♥ like he didn’t even ask which park.. he just guessed.. but he guessed correctly 

♥ your heart almost stopped as you watched a chunky motorcycle come speeding towards you at such a rate that all you could do was brace for impact and kiss goodbye to your relatively peaceful live

♥  however, at the very last second it swerved around you and came to a halt, allowing the rider to extend his free hand to you, “hop on.”

♥ the voice was all to familiar and you weren’t surprised at all to see baji with his signature ‘i could kill you’ grin plastered on his face 

♥ as your heart rate slowly began to return to normal, you cried, “what do you mean ‘hop on’? you almost ran me over!”

♥ he unclipped his helmet and tossed it to you, “safety first.”

♥ “did you even hear what i just said?” you grumbled, putting on the helmet anyway 

♥ “i think you said something about how excited you are to finally go out with me.” he mused, shuffling forwards slightly to give you more space to sit on behind him, like a true gentleman /s

♥ “no.” you replied simply. 

♥ though you initially had no intention of going anywhere with him, you still found yourself reaching your leg over his bike to take a seat behind him, “where are we going?”

♥ baji shrugged, chuckling slightly as he felt you gently wrap your arms around his hips, “don’t know, but hold on tight.” he warned, revving his engine and taking off without another word

♥ perhaps you were the fool for getting on a motorcycle with baji and letting him take you to an undisclosed location, but you trusted him enough to know that he wouldn’t try to drive you off a cliff or put you in danger.. or at least, that is what you hoped

♥ however, if it wasn’t a rival gang that kills you, baji’s driving definitely would

♥ he drives like a madman and left you with no other choice but to cling onto him for dear life, since if you didn’t bury yourself into his side, you’d probably fly off with all sharp turns he does around the other cars/bikes

♥ it was like being taped to the top of a vehicle in mario cart

♥ eyes squeezed shut, you yelled over the harsh blaring of the wind, “slow the fuck down! where are you even taking me?” 

♥ baji was having fun, but he was getting the feeling you weren’t..

♥ usually he doesn’t care about what other think but this was the first time he was taking you out, he didn’t want you to think of him as a maniac driver, or else you might not want to come with him ever again

♥ “if you open your eyes, you’ll see.” he uttered, slowing down slightly so the noises weren’t as harsh 

♥ taking his word for it, you hesitantly pried open one of your eyes and turned your neck so your face was no longer pressed against his shoulder

♥ and honestly, you were glad you did. passed the edge of the road, you had the perfect view of the beach below, the sea gently glistening under the orange sunset 

♥ now that your nose was free from only breathing in baji’s sickeningly strong, wild spice body spray, you finally able to enjoy fresh ocean air 

♥ “the beach.” you mused, smiling down at the completely deserted sandy shore, which looked so beautifully peaceful in contrast to how busy it was when you usually come 

♥ “no shit.” baji chuckled, his eyes remaining glued to road, despite how much he wanted to see your reaction

♥ you let out a defeated sighed, leaning against his back, “but it’s closed.”

♥ baji nodded, “yep, that means we’ve got the whole place to ourselves!”

♥ before you could question what baji meant by that, he steered off the edge of the road and down the steep hillside which led to the beach, though it definitely was not meant to be drove on as there were several warning sign at the side of the road, warning drivers about the hill

♥ “baji, what the fuck?!” you screamed over baji’s amused laughter, similar to the way you’d laugh if you were playing GTA, rather than playing with actual human lives

♥ “isn’t this fun?” he yelled back, enjoying how the wind felt against his skin as he maneuvered his bike down the steep hill 

♥ honestly, you weren’t sure whether you enjoyed it or not, but as soon as the bike came to a smooth landing upon the soft sand of the beach, you found yourself silently wanting to do that again

♥ “well, how was that?” baji asked, immediately hopping off the bike on his own only so he could offer you a hand

♥ accepting his hand, you stepped off the cycle only to notice that your legs were shaking, yet you oddly liked it, “that was.. okay.” you murmured, not wanting to feed his ego but also unable to lie to him.

♥ “great.” he uttered, leaning forward to carefully unclip your helmet for you and sling it over the handle of his bike

♥ “so,” he started, looking around the beach for any stray cops or surveyors, “what do you wanna do?” 

♥ he felt a light tug on his jacket sleeve, causing him to look down and meet your pleading gaze, “do you think we could go out again? some other time, maybe?”

♥ all baji did was laugh, resulting in you become sheepish for a moment, until he wrapped his arms around you picked you up for a hug, “obviously!”

♥ you smiled, your cheeks heating up slightly, “nice!”

♥ “anyway,” he started, placing you back down and dashing off towards the sea, “loser owes me lunch!”

♥ ignoring how he gets lunch either way, you immediately sprinted off behind him, watching as he dramatically fell over a large shell and face-planted into the the sand

♥ being the kind friend you are, you ignored him and continued running towards the water, only for him to grab your ankle and trip you up too

♥ “ha!” that is how he shows affection <3

[lilithgrax]

Seeing In Color

Summary: Jungkook decides karate is better than boxing and takes you to Dragon's Gate, where you meet the Boy With the Dragon Tattoo.

Pairings: Yoongi/Reader

Rating: G, but will be explicit later

Warnings: Slight cursing in this chapter

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

When class is over almost an hour later, you're not sure if you've actually learned anything or just spent the whole time staring at the hot teacher. Jungkook had been smirking at you throughout the class and you just knew he was going to give you some kind of snide comment when he turned to you the moment class was over.

"So I take it you'll be coming back for the next class, then?" Jungkook smiles and pokes his tongue at his lip ring, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I'm single, am I not allowed to look?" You bite back, rolling our eyes before adding, "do you know him? Like, personally?"

Jungkook takes this opportunity to poke fun at you again. "Why? Do you want to know him personally?"

"Ugh, you're so disgusting," You make sure to keep your voice at a low volume so nobody can hear, pushing at his chest in mock annoyance. "But seriously. Do you?"

"I do. I met him through my friends Namjoon and Hoseok from college. Those three are really close, so," Jungkook shrugs. "I had mentioned to Namjoon that I was bored with boxing and he introduced me to Yoongi, and here I am." He adds the last part with the biggest, toothiest grin you think you've ever seen.

You make your way over to the locker rooms as you two talk, making sure to keep your voices low so nobody can spread rumors about you pining over the karate teacher. Jungkook elbows you when you're almost there, and you see Yoongi standing near the entrance to the men's side, talking to another student. He looks up and catches Jungkook's eye, and your absolute horror, Jungkook waves him over. Just the few steps he takes towards you have you mesmerized again.

There's something so graceful and controlled just in the way he walks, when you think back to him saying that he's probably done this for fifteen years, you believe it. You admire the way his black roots smudge into his silver hair and you ache to reach out and touch it, noticing fine beads of sweat around his brow and his temples that cause wisps of hair to stick to his skin. He folds his arms in front of him and you get another glimpse at the head of the dragon tattoo when you notice the belt of his uniform is untied, using all of your willpower to resist the urge to look up and down the strip of his exposed torso. He smells like man. Not cologne, not deodorant, just man. Suddenly your uniform feels scratchy against your prickly skin.

"Joon and Hobi and us are going to Magic Shop this Friday, you gonna come?"

Yoongi's eyebrows knot together and you can't tell whether its in thought or disgust. "Magic Shop? That karaoke bar the next town over?"

Jungkook nods and you quickly figure out its not thought or disgust- its disbelief.

"I find it hard to believe you convinced Namjoon to go to a place like that. Man spends his time looking at paintings of lines, not embarassing himself singing while hammered."

"It has private karaoke rooms!"

"I see."

"Plus, you know, Hobi."

"He does have a way of convincing people."

Your head ping-pongs between the two having this conversation and Yoongi rubs his chin in thought. His eyes shift over to you.

"You're going, too?" Yoongi looks at you expectantly and you panic.

You have NO idea how Jungkook has managed to pull all of this out of his ass in a few minutes, but you have to give him credit. When you look back to Jungkook he's basically calling you a dumbass with his eyes, and when you stumble over your words, you realize you are indeed a dumbass.

"Well I mean, it would be kind of like a boys' night out, I don't have to-"

"You should come, y/n."

You and Jungkook both look at Yoongi in surprise.

"Really? I don't want to make you uncomfortable since you don't really know me or anything-"

"I barely know Jungkook either. We met through our friends just recently."

Jungkook jumps in, "So does that mean you'll come?"

Yoongi reaches up and runs both of his hands through his luscious hair and you think you might've drooled if your mouth wasn't closed. You notice that Yoongi talks very matter-of-factly, almost monotone but not quite. To others it might come across as cold but somehow it just doesn't. Maybe its the low and sultry voice, or the fact that you want to climb him like a tree, but none of that really matters.

"Well, karaoke isn't really my thing either. I don't like to sing in front of people."

This piques your curiosity. "Do you sing in private? Like, at home?"

He shrugs. "I like to rap a little. Just for fun."

You can practically feel Jungkook vibrating next to you from his excitement. "Oh, I need to hear this now. Come on Yoongi, don't deny us your gorgeous voice! I'm sure you sound like Drake, you'll be the baddest motherfucker in the house!" He bounces up and down with energy but the older man doesn't absorb any of it.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and sighs. There's a pause.

He looks at you right in your eyes.

He uncrosses his arms and the bright, angry, red dragon stares at you from his sculpted chest.

You swallow.

"Okay," he smirks. "I'll come."

[max-cortez]

Her quick wit had devilishly dangerous smile had a deep bellied laugh spilling from his mouth in a low rasp. He'd parted his mouth to offer something equally as smooth as what she'd given him, but he fell silent the moment he felt her touch.

Light, but feeling like a thousand pounds had fallen onto his shoulder, Max struggled to catch his breath. He would have lost his footing had walking not been so goddamn mechanic. He'd thought about it since the tattoo shop — how good it would feel to be close to her again.

Now he couldn't breathe.

Frustrated by his own body's response to something he knew well, but had longed for in the time since their departure, he swallowed down the lodged breath and carefully nudged her with his elbow. "I'm sure there's an ATM close. With all those cash scams they call carnival games? It wouldn't be too bad."

His lungs clamped shut once more as she pulled away, leaving him with a simple realization that wasn't so simple at all.

"What and where? I'd like to think you have decent taste and depending on the where really says more about you than me, so sure. We'll roll with that." A part of him would have given her that creative freedom at the price of absolutely nothing.

Now, he just needed to figure out his side of things. As task far steeper than any drop of the rollercoasters near them. If she was wrong... they'd figure that out later.

Neck craned as yet another huff of laughter fell into the air. Even a teasing compliment had heat creeping into his cheeks. A heat that he'd blame on anything but her.

"Alright. Fine, but if we get stuck on top, I'm never letting you live this down. I don't a shit if it's in the afterlife." With a deep breath that made his lungs ache, gaze shifted towards her and he gave a nod towards the torture trap in question. "We getting in line or what?"

"It has nothing to do with confidence, cariño." With a cheeky grin firmly notched into place again Edie tapped at the crossbody bag strung over her shoulder. "Twenty bucks is all the cash I brought."

Maybe he was a little bit right (even her sweet tooth had a limit) but she wasn't about to admit that.

No, Edie just tipped her temple to fleetingly rest at Max's shoulder and purred, "You wouldn't make me walk all the way to an ATM just to take out more, would you?" Ink dark lashes fluttered dramatically, purely for show, before she straightened, chortling all the while. "But fine. If you want to up the ante, we'll up the ante."

She just needed a second to think of how.

Fingertips tap, tap, tapped against her bottom lip before Edie declared, "I've got it." A gleam of mischief entered her eyes. "If I'm right, you owe me twenty bucks and full creative freedom to pick your next tattoo. What and where." Which was a lucky deal, considering her first thought was to demand being able to stick it on him, too.

"If I'm wrong, well..." He could choose his victory prize, she supposed. Mostly, because she didn't intend to lose.

This time she didn't need to err on the side of forced dramatics or honey soaked flattery, though. When she peered over at Max, the flesh of her lip captured between her teeth, she just told the truth.

"Much as I'd certainly appreciate the view, I didn't wanna come here with you today just to stare at how deliciously your arms flex when you win me ten teddy bears the size of Texas."

Laughter flashed in her eyes, masking the vulnerability underneath. "But I'll only tell you why I did from about 210 feet in the sky." Give or take. She hadn't exactly researched the average height of a Ferris wheel lately.

[ryosmne]

Safe Place.

Yakuza! Nanami Kento x gn Reader

Hello everyone, this fic is in collaboration with my dear friend @sunfloweroranges you can read their fic here :D

I kind of changed my writing style for this one, I'm trying out different things so let me know how it goes, feedback is always welcome, that's all from me hope you have a good time reading 💜

Summary: You're clueless

Warnings: mentions of blood, mature themes, mentions of murder and head chopping, language, yandare Nanami if you squint.

Grocery shopping is never fun when you're alone, especially making your way back home in the cold winter months, it gets dark so early.

A slight twist of your gut had made you walk back home in a faster pace. Turning your head every couple of steps, you never saw anything, yet this feeling never left even when you got through the main entrance of your apartment complex.

The elevator was broken once more, and you were already out of breath from rushing back, as you took the first steps up, your next door neighbor, who looked way too scary for your own liking bumped your shoulder on his way down.

Jeez he's in a hurry today.

Mumbling a quick apology, even though he was the one that was at fault, you quickly found the strength to run up the stairs and lock yourself in. Some short of commotion was coming from outside the complex that you didn't really care to hear.

That pink haired guy, your neighbor, who was build like a damn door, always got himself in some short of trouble, hearing him yell profanities or even throwing punches was a far too often occurance.

Why did he have to live right next door?

It's safe to say you did the best to keep the hell away from him, not that he seemed to bother with you, neitherless he was fucking scary.

Kento was ten minutes late, he was never late, except for the days that he had to clean up someone's mess, the days someone underestimated the power he held or the days someone dared speak your name. He wouldn't even tell them 'dont you dare speak their name' or anything along those lines. There was no warning when it came to mentioning yo,u only taking immediate action.

Naturally you were in the dark about all of that, Kento -or Ken as you would often referred to him as- kept you far far away from the darkness of his world. That was his way of keeping you safe and at the same time having you as his personal way out of his work and in his defence he didn't completely lie about his employment. He was an investor, just a bit of a different stock market than what you had in mind.

As far as you knew, Nanami Kento was an extremely successful business man, he chalked up his tattoo covered body as just his preferred style, since he is this good at what he does, he likes to say that his work place doesn't give a damn about his ink covered skin and the expensive gifts that he always pressures you to accept are just another benefit of his high profile job.

"Darling, I hope you didn't start without me." Wrapping your arms around your extremely sweet boyfriend you left a small kiss on his lips watching as the corners tagged upwards in an equally sweet smile the moment your lips left his.

"Of course not Ken, it's Friday remember?" Fridays are the established date nights in, you and Kento cook and dine together. More often than not you end up slow dancing to some jazz, or with you laying on his chest Infront of the fireplace, listening to his heartbeat, talking about life while he strokes your hair until the dawn.

Tossing him an apron, after he -like the gentleman he is- tied yours, you got to work on today's dish: Chorizo carbonara.

"You're never late on Fridays, bad day at work?"

You spoke while slicing some papers.

"Yeah, the stocks are all over the place and it's getting me stressed, but it's our night darling, anything else isn't of importance."

Kento always found a way of distracting you when it came to talking about his day, he is always quite vague and when his palm rested on the small of your back gazing down at you with those adoring eyes, it's hard to keep focused on anything other than him.

"Why don't you tell me about your day love?"

He always asked you that, Kento is in awful need of the calm that the mundane life you live carries. He craves to feel that, he still loves the power he holds over people, the way the mare mention of his name makes others tremble in fear of what the man will do to them shall they not comply to his requests -more accurately orders-

"Thankfully work was pretty good today, I finished grocery shopping so we could cook, I got us that wine you really loved too. The neighbor is being weird again but that's not new, maybe moving out isn't a bad idea."

Everything was like music to Kento's ears untill that last sentence. You had mentioned moving out before, but Kento always found a way to convince you not to. The rent was good, this house is close to your work, he would always reason with you until you changed your mind. He never pushed too hard fearing that you'd suspect something, but you only smiled and ended up agreeing with him.

You see, unbeknownst to you, your weird neighbor is Nanami's most trusted man, he's protecting you twenty four hours a day, even as you walked up the stairs today he dealt with another threat that was headed right your way. No, you cannot move before you know everything, but Nanami can't bring himself to break your bubble, he loves you and you love him, the real him, he would never scare you by letting you take a peek at his point of view. Maybe he should run away with you afterall.

"He doesn't look that bad, love. I'm sure he wouldn't hurt a fly."

Nanami knew he was capable of a lot more than that but it was true, your neighbor was an ally and although he would hurt lots of people, you were on the list of people to be protected and Sukuna took his bosses orders very seriously.

"Besides, my love, anyone would have to get through me first before attempting to lay a finger on you."

With the way his lips moulded on yours and his velvety tone, how could you not believe every single word that just came out of his mouth. Kento would die before letting anything happen to you, that little statement helped bring you comfort.

"You must really love my house Ken, can you pass me the butter?"

The moment your back was turned, Kento let out a breath of relief. That little voice in his head he always pushed away yelled at him to tell you everything, he burried it in the back of his mind once more.

"Can you believe that? I swear she drives me insane- Ken are you listening to me?"

That was weird, Kento always gave you his full attention. Perhaps he was tired today.

"Yes darling, you were talking about that Satoru guy, the one who annoys you at work."

Yeah you were, but that was while you were still eating, about twenty minutes ago.

"Babe, you're tired, let's go to bed, we can pick up where we left off another time, you need to rest."

The habit of staying up all night on Fridays had really stuck, but sleeping when your partner clearly needed to, is very much on schedule although it rarely ever happened.

Getting up from the sofa, tagging at Kento's arm to follow you to the bedroom had Kento irritated at how concerned you grew for him. He still feels you're too good at times, all the time to be exact.

You only heard him sigh before he pulled you back on the sofa, having lost your balance in his sudden move, you landed on top of him.

"Stay with me a little longer my love, I'm sorry I spaced out, I'm all ears for you now."

Another invitation for you to just talk to him, he didn't care about what. Kento loved the tone of your voice, how it changed pitch depending on what emotion you held or what you were talking about. His voice was quite monotone, like everyone else's around him. He had to grow thick skin and throw away all short of feelings, but everything he locked away years ago came rushing back the moment he spilled coffee on you six months ago. You hadn't even complained about the burning sensation on your skin as he helped clean you up, you just gave Kento a smile telling him that everything was fine and these things happen.

In his world they don't, someone can breathe the wrong way and lose their head, all it took was your damn smile and that statement to get him to need something different than what he had. Kento never thought he missed a thing, he found out how wrong he was that very day.

Sometimes he wished he never took the time to help you out back then, but that was only because he didn't know that he'd put you through all this.

"So I'm just sat there in a staring contest over the last price of cake, I won but my eyes still feel a bit dry."

You laughed, Kento stared down at you with a fond smile, your head on his lap and your hands tangled in his, brushing his knuckles and examining every bit of his skin with such care, God you were beautiful all over.

While Kento's hands were very interesting a small detail in the cuff of his shirt got your stomach to drop.

"Ken, is that blood?"

He swore he cleaned up, he always cleaned up before coming back to you, he never missed a single splatter. Maybe rushing home after not one, but two people tried to harm you today put him on edge.

He had missed a single drop. He was absolutely disgusted that even that tiny part of someone who dared to say the name y/n out loud infront of him and even threatened your existence was anywhere near you.

"Sweetheart that's probably tomato sauce from cooking, thanks for pointing it out, you know I hate staining my clothes, I'll go change."

Your meal didn't contain tomato sauce.

Why was your gut telling you that something was off?

Kento seemed a bit tense tonight, was it just a bad day at work?

He never really conversed on his profession. The huge dragon that started from the back of his thigh, ended on his left shoulder covering his entire back was just his 'style'. You swore you heard him talk to the pink haired man who lived next door but he told you he was on the phone. Everything little bit of suspicious behaviour you had previously payed no mind to, came to you. On top of that what was his reason to lie about a drop of blood on his sleeve? He could've said it was a paper cut or something, Why did he lie?

Behind the bathroom door Kento only cursed at him self.

Why didn't he lie better?

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

Happy birthday to @yourtokentrophywife, a fellow snek! Here’s a fortune cookie and a rec list to celebrate how awesome Sam is! I am so glad to have Sam as a friend because she has been such a Flintwood inspiration! Let’s be honest, I’ve poked at this ship on and off for years. I definitely wanted to read more fics with Marcus and Oliver, but I wasn’t even sure if there were any more active creators for this ship, tbh. When I found Sam’s work though, I became instantly hooked. She’s a brilliant writer who knows her characters really well. She has all sorts of ideas and everything down to the tee. Sam has such a way of writing Marcus and Oliver that’s believable, from the push and pull of their rivalry and UST to their teasing and ridiculous banter. I was sold on their dynamic because they have a constant buzz of energy whenever they’re around each other, and that’s from reading Sam’s fics. Her puns, lines and smut are all Chef’s Kiss. So clever, so smooth and the way Marcus and Oliver go at each other (as rivals to lovers) is on fire. They’re hot, sexy and pure magic. Whenever I want to read fic and I’m looking for these vibes, I'll go back and reread Sam’s Flintwood fics since they scratch that itch. Also, did you know Sam draws? I love it when writers dabble in art too! Her Flintwood art makes me grin, just like her writing. I love this footballer piece (and she has more drawings in this Flintwood Challenge 2021 post). If you want to dive into Flintwood, here are my favourite Sam fics to get you started: >> Boyfriend (E, 4.8k): Summary: Oliver wants a boyfriend for the off-season. Alternatively: Angelina is a bad-ass, gorgeous woman who sees through Oliver's bullshit. I love this fic because Oliver’s PoV on what he thinks he wants and what he actually wants is just so him. What an over-thinker (but then again, I don’t blame him!). Lots of denial of feelings, delicious smut, and of course his friends see everything before Oliver finally gives in and accepts that maybe the thing he has with Marcus is actually something more.  >> The Keeper and the Key (E, 3k): Summary: The morning of Marcus’ twenty-seventh birthday becomes a rather horrid affair, much to his surprise. It really sets the scene for Marcus’ PoV since we get an insight on his family and Pureblood politics. It’s super in character of him to think of what he has with Oliver as some sort of arrangement and nothing more (lies and insecurity, of course!). And the dry humour in this makes this worth the read. Such a fun fic, and the typical miscommunication and banter is spot-on. >> The Inked Snitch (also includes Blaise/Neville, T, 23.9k): Summary:  While Oliver’s quidditch days may be over, his quidditch supply shop is near perfection. Perhaps he’s a little lonely and a tad sheltered too, but Oliver would much rather keep to himself than have his heart broken. That’s not too much to ask for is it? Though when a magical tattoo shop opens up next door, Oliver’s in for a lot of surprises, including bad flirting, third-wheeling and the return of an old rival.    If you want some feelings, this fic has a lot of it. I think this is the first Flintwood fic I read where Marcus and Oliver are seriously working through their shit and they are trying to establish themselves as people beyond athletes. And OMG, the ridiculous amount of terrible flirting that happens between Blaise and Neville is hilarious. Such precious idiots in love. Not saying that Marcus and Oliver aren’t idiots in love either. They definitely are. >> ALSO: I am finnnallllyyy starting, Big Brutes and Frappuccinos (E, 20.5k, mind the tags), since it’s almost done, and well, who doesn’t love a good football AU with UST? There’s some Parkweasel in there too, which I’m also a fan of. Summary: Marcus Flint plays for West Ham and he's absolutely fine with being the most violent player in the league. He's twenty-six and got a good ten years left of play in him. Nothing can ever come between him and the game. Then Oliver Wood, keeper for Queens Park Rangers, makes an appearance in his life. Oliver's his childhood rival, he's openly gay and he has an addiction to sugary drinks from Starbucks. Oh, and he's gorgeous. Not that Marcus is some shirtlifter or anything. I usually see a lot of hockey or rugby AUs with these two, so it’s definitely a treat when I do find a footballer AU. Really fun so far! Let me know what y’all think if you’re reading/have read this fic. Check out more of Sam’s work, and let her know how much you love her contributions for keeping Flintwood alive! Sam, thanks for being a super star, and I hope your day is fantastic!