#houston tattoo artist

[khii-khii]

A few portraits that’s I’ve tatted 🤭

[soulcaresserrr]

Okay fine I’ll start posting here

[everydayisfridayg]

Just finished getting this massive piece of my two favorite characters from Naruto. Love my artist and how she brought this idea to life for me!

[chelibunieink]

iiiiiii get so emotional babehhhh, every time I think of youuuuuuuu 😩💖👑

[angelbladetats]

done for bella!🎀☠️

[hyperinkers]

Discover the Best Tattoo Shop in San Antonio: Hyper Inkers

Uncertain where to find the best tattoo shop San Antonio to turn your artwork vision into reality? So, if you are looking forward to some real art done from passion, visit Hyper Inkers. Our artistic team has been practicing their skills for years and specializes in proposing and performing outstanding, aesthetically appealing tattoos that will convey one’s personal outlook on life. Part of getting a new tattoo or still on a journey of having more tattoos is making the process a unique one and the outcome of high quality.

At Hyper Inkers we are ready to help you get your point across with the help of our team of professional artists. ERIQ is known by his detail and his inclination to make very strong designs and NICOLE is famous by her delicate lines of drawings. The most unique and outstanding here are original works, which can be ordered from Daniel; MINH specializes in bright and classical tattoos. BENJAMIN is excellent at mimicking the real skin, and his tattoos seem to come to life on your skin. There is a great diversity to choose from, while Jackie, Damian, and Danny all add their own personalities into every single tattoo they create.

I say that our shop is not just to make money on tattoos; we want people to talk about it. Since you enter the Hyper Inkers, you’ll immediately notice the relaxed environment that we have developed. We feel privileged to be called best tattoo shop San Antonio, and that is because we set ourselves high standards of practice, hygiene, and professionalism to customers.

From the simple concept of getting a tiny and intricate piece or going custom and massive with a sleeve, our artists are with you. Come to Hyper Inkers and let our amazing team make your masterpiece with our logo designs. Your body needs the best ink available in San Antonio!

[pixxieestixx]

i wanna be a tattoo artist so fucking bad why is it so hard to get an apprenticeship in my city

[sweettea-and-honeybutter]

Take You There

A/N: I’ve been hearing in the streets that some of yall are tired of smut 👀 (my specialty 🥲) so I present you with a slow burn. I’m not sure just yet how many chapters there will be, and I don’t know how or why this idea came to me but I’ve fallen in love with the story. I also desperately need practice writing stuff other than porn because I have dreams of being a published author some day soooo all feedback is highly appreciated 💕 

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Reign Adisa (black female OC)

Summary: Terry gets inspired in so many ways by a tattoo artist. 

Warning: fluffy and angsty, no smut here so rated E

Length: This mf is 4.1k words long 😮‍💨🥴 my fault

Chapter 1

Wednesdays felt like her secret sanctuary, a rare calm in the whirlwind of her week. Most days, Reign’s life as a young Black woman running a buzzing tattoo studio in the heart of downtown Houston was anything but quiet—ink-stained hands, constant chatter, the hum of machines. Yet, in this moment, she savored the peaceful lull. 

The community had embraced her with open arms, offering support, admiration, and more appointments than she ever imagined this early on. Clients lined up months in advance, eager to wear her art, while others knocked at her door with résumés in hand. Reign was already on the hunt for three more artists to keep up with the demand. It’s been a blessing, but it’s also been overwhelming. 

So Wednesdays, Reign doesn’t take any appointments or walk-ins, she just comes to her studio to create, conjuring up beautifully original pieces to present to the world. Wednesdays helped her stay grounded so she didn’t lose herself in the fast pace of her career. They helped her hold on to her love and passion for her craft, it’s a necessity for her success as an artist. 

Her studio was a reflection of her soul—beautiful, grounded, and something she took immense pride in. She had stumbled upon the space by chance, walking through the warehouse district one sunny afternoon. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed by smooth cement walls flooded the open floor plan with light, offering her the creative freedom to shape the space however she desired. Now, a vibrant neon orange sign reading "Lotus Tattoo" glowed outside, inviting passersby. Inside, the walls were adorned with art from local artists, while plush oriental rugs softened the industrial feel. Scattered lamps cast a warm glow in the evening, and cozy seating areas and lush plants created a relaxed vibe. Bamboo room dividers separated the space for other artists yet to join her.

Today she walked in and began her routine that now felt more like a spiritual ritual which transported her to another world. Opening the velvet mauve curtains to let the morning light in, lighting incense throughout the space to cleanse the energy, turn on her brown sugar playlist so soft r&b can set the vibe, and opening the wide glass garage door at the back of the studio to let the cool autumn breeze in.

She took off her crochet cardigan which matched her shorts, rolled up the sleeves to her cropped Anderson Paak shirt, and swirled her copper highlighted braids into a messy bun. Pushing her glasses further up her nose, she sat at her desk and hunched over her iPad, biting her pen as she imaged how to bring more texture to the hair of the Caribbean mermaid she was working on. 

~~~~~~~~

Terry’s legs couldn’t stay still, pacing the length of his apartment like a caged animal. The space felt suffocatingly small, no matter how impressive the view of the city spread out below him. The constant barrage of honking horns and blaring sirens seeped in through the open window, filling his head with a cacophony that grated against his nerves. Overstimulated didn’t even begin to cover it. He let out a sharp breath, the simmering rage beneath his skin threatening to boil over. He hadn’t always been this tightly wound—once upon a time, people called him easygoing. But things had changed. He had changed.

He shoved his AirPods in, cranking the volume of "Killing in the Name Of” until the defiant shouts and pounding drums drowned out the noise in his head. As the music pulsed through him, he stormed out of his place, locking the door behind him with a sharp click. Instead of heading toward the elevator, he veered toward the stairwell, taking the five flights down two steps at a time, as if the rapid movement could outrun the memories chasing him.

Sure, everything had worked out on paper—the Shelby Springs police department was under investigation, the chief and a dozen corrupt cops were behind bars. Cases were being reopened, and lawyers from across the country were flocking to defend the victims of that backwoods nightmare. Hell, Terry had even won half a million in his lawsuit against the city. But what did it all matter? Mike was still gone. After pouring everything he had into saving his cousin, Terry was left with nothing but an empty victory and a gnawing sense of purposelessness. Lost, adrift, and suffocating beneath the weight of survivor’s guilt, he couldn’t shake the question that haunted him: At what cost?

As he exited his building, the midday sun greeted him with a mocking cheerfulness, bright and all consuming. Terry scowled, keeping his squinting eyes glued to the uneven ground beneath his feet as he mindlessly walked the downtown streets. He was so wrapped up in his disdain for life that he missed how people moved out of the way of his hulking form, how cops perusing the streets eyed him suspiciously, how birds scurried away from the sound of his thundering footsteps. 

He walked for 20 minutes in a straight line before his mind finally went numb enough for him to take in his surroundings. He wasn’t far at all from his home, but this side of the downtown had a different feel to it. The buildings were shorter and wider, the foot traffic was less obnoxious, and beautiful graffiti covered almost every wall. He spotted a building that stood out amongst the others with its pristine alabaster paint over the cement and its glowing neon sign. “Lotus Tattoo”.

It had been months since Mike passed, but the thought of getting something permanent to honor him had crossed Terry’s mind more than once—though he didn’t need ink to remind him of Mike’s infectious laugh or goofy grin. As he approached the tattoo shop, he slowed, his fingers brushing the door handle. He gave it a tug but stopped when he felt resistance—it was locked. For a moment, he considered walking away, but movement deeper inside the studio caught his eye. He lingered, torn between retreating and pressing on, before finally deciding to make his way around the back, curiosity quietly pulling him forward.

~~~~~~~~

She doesn’t hear him walk in through the open garage door, so immersed in perfecting the fine details before her, and Terry doesn’t wish to bring attention to himself just yet. He takes soundless steps into her studio, as if the building itself was emitting a peace so relieving that he could feel the pressure of anxiety roll right off his shoulders. He took a deep breath in, nose filling with the earthy scent of warm patchouli and sweet jasmine. Walking further into her domain, his eyes bright with curiosity take in his surroundings-a chipped and loved on mug, the soft rug blanketing his steps, the petal shaped ceiling fans whirling quietly, and he chuckled silently at her grumbles to herself.

He instinctively removed his AirPods and put them in their case, snapping the lid shut and startling the both of them. Reign straightened her back with a gasp, turning so sharply on her stool that her glasses flew off her face and she toppled over, just barely catching herself in a clumsy fighting stance, knees knocked and hands in awkwardly placed fists. Terry, for what its worth, looked like a deer caught munching in the farmers garden, pupils blown almost wide enough to cover the steel gray, mouth open in a shocked ‘o’, eyebrow twitching from trying not to laugh at her horrible stance and the fact that her glasses slid right to his feet.

“Um…” Terry didn’t know what to say as he raised his palms to her, trying to appear harmless, “I was wondering…do you take walk-ins?” Reign let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and placed a hand over her thudding heart, standing more relaxed but still on guard.

“You almost scared me to death! Yes um-“ she squinted at the ground next to her, trying to find her glasses, “-um yes, normally I do, just not Wednesdays-“ she was caught off guard again feeling a warm hand on her shoulder. When had he even moved? 

Terry stood so close that her nose brushed his shirt as she tilted her head to look up at him. He gave her a ghost of a smile and brought her glasses to rest on her nose, pushing her loose braids back behind her ears and studying her. “There.” His voice was so deep that she couldn’t tell if the goosebumps erupting on her skin was from the sound of it, or from being so close to him. 

They stared at each other a moment longer, him admiring her gold septum nose ring against her beautiful mahogany skin, and her eyes darting between his plump lips and striking eyes. Terry finally cleared his throat and took a large step back, raising a brow at her. Reign blinked away the haze he’d created, her voice coming out high and breathless.

“I do take walk-ins! Not normally on Wednesdays, but what were you wanting to get?” Terry looked away thinking, and Reign used that as an excuse to look him over once more, eyes roaming his heavily toned muscles. He was undeniably handsome, like fine as hell handsome.

He looked back at her and she tried not to squirm under his gaze. “I want to get something for my cousin, today was his birthday.” she watched his eyes darken to a murky green as his expression turned somber, “I’m thinking like 2 fists bumping together, can you do that?”

Reign bit her lip in contemplation and Terry’s eyes darkened even further following that movement. “I can, let me just draw up something for you. It shouldn’t take too long, how much time have you got today?” He gave her another ghost of a smile. 

“I’m all yours. I’m Terry by the way, you own this place?” She shook his extended hand and quickly pulled hers back, feeling heat rise to her ears and cheeks.

“Reign, nice to meet you Terry. And yup, only been in this studio a few months. I was working out of my home before.” His eyes were piercing, she felt see through, and turned back to her desk to start drawing something for him. “Gimme like 15, feel free to look around!” She called over her shoulder, and it took Terry a moment to move, far too interested in watching her. 

He walked around her space with purposefully loud steps, mindful of not startling her again and glancing at her every once in a while. He picked up a binder from a floating shelf in front of him, flipping through the pages to see her drawings and creative polaroids of her work. He found himself drawn to her black and white pieces, struck by how realistic her portraits are. He flipped through more and more pages hoping to understand how her mind works, how she was able to capture a moment in time so realistically.

“Terry!” Her voice calling out to him had him coming to her immediately, surprisingly eager to be used as her next canvas. “What do you think?” She put her iPad in his hands and he listened as she explained what she wanted to do with the shadows and fading around the edges, but his mind was going back to the last time he fist bumped Mike, the last time he saw him alive.

“It’s perfect.” His voice was tight with emotions and Reign watched his jaw tick at holding back all the things he wanted to say. She wondered earlier if she’d regret taking work on her off day, but sensing the grief coming from this man, it must’ve been divine timing that sent him to her today.

“I’m glad you like it. Why don’t you show me what size you want and where you’d like it?” Terry nodded and started taking off his shirt, and Reign took a surprised step back watching his body flex. He somehow looked even bigger now. She schooled her expression to be professionally indifferent as Terry pointed to his right pec, opposite his heart. 

“Here, and this big” he measured it out with his hands and Reign gave an awkward thumbs up, not trusting her voice just yet. She turned to print the stencil out for him and cleared her throat.

“Okay, we can do that. For that size my rate is-“

“I’ll pay whatever you want. I’m grateful you took me in on your day off.” Reign shyly glanced back at him over her shoulder and locked eyes with his very earnest ones. She gave him a small smile and continued on to prepare everything she’d need. 

Terry watched her steady gloved hands come up to gently press the wet stencil onto his skin, he bent his legs slightly to make it easier for her, and she whispered out a thanks. He didn’t say anything, transfixed by her presence, her gentleness, the sweet jasmine scent he realized was coming from her. He unintentionally flexed his muscles under her touch and watched her swallow tensely. He wasn’t unaware of his effect on women, but he liked that she was actively trying to remain professional. It was cute. 

“You wanna take a look before we start?” Terry nodded and she showed him to a mirror, standing behind him and off to the side, watching his face for any signs of dissatisfaction. She finally got a genuine smile from him, tiny but meaningful, as his eyes gleamed at the outline of the fists on his chest.

“I love it” he turned to her and she could see the smile had actually reached his eyes, and she returned it right back to him “I’m ready.”

~~~~~~~~

Terry, reclined in the comfortable leather seat, swept his eyes over Reign’s decorated skin while she worked on him, taking in the mismatched beauty and history of her story. “Did you do any of these yourself?” He asked quietly, referring to the artwork scattered on her body.

She pulled back from his arm to get more ink and glanced up at his face giving him a secretive grin. She was becoming addicted to his voice. It’s so deep, and quiet. There’s a heavy bass to it that could’ve been intimidating and over powering, but she could tell he’s choosing to be gentle and laid back. It was creating a growing intimacy between them that she hoped he felt too. 

“Mhm I did a few of these” she replied distractedly, now focused on putting more ink on her needle. 

“Which ones?” She liked his curiosity, and liked that he wanted to talk.

“Hmm I did this one on my thigh” she said offhandedly, now getting back to work, the hypnotic buzzing filling the space again.

He studied the imposing and fierce Medusa taking up most of her thigh, some of the snakes cut off by her shorts. The details were amazing, it almost looked like a Greek statue. Terry was impressed she did it upside down and it still looked stunning. 

He hesitated a moment, not wanting to upset the tranquil environment she’d created, but he wanted to know more of her story, now privy to the fact that the both of them have a painful past. He wants to know how she got to this point of inner peace, he wants to get there too. 

“Is it true?…what they say about Medusa tattoos?” She blinked at his question and her hands stilled, caught off guard, having gotten lost in the music still playing and the buzzing of her gun and the black ink on his smooth skin. 

Reign’s teeth worried her lip, biting and pulling as she debated whether to answer that or not. She chanced a look at his face and his piercing eyes locked with hers. She felt like a butterfly in an empty jar. Delicate, exposed, with nowhere to hide. Not everyone gets a Medusa tattoo for the same reason, but she knew exactly what he meant. She simply nodded and refocused her attention to the veins of the fist she’s crafting.

She continued working and missed the dark shadow that fell over his face. He was trying not to imagine what the sorry excuse for a human did to her, he was trying to ignore the urge to bring the matters of justice into his own hands. He was well equipped with delivering justice, and something about her let him know that she deserved her vengeance. She saw his fist clench from the corner of her eye, and she told herself he was reacting to the carve of the needle in his skin, not the weight of her truth. 

“I’m sorry that’s part of your story.” She gave him a surprised little grin, taking note of the gruffness in his voice she’d heard before.

“It’s not your fault. Besides, every protagonist experiences canon events. If this hadn’t been part of my story, I might not have this passion for creating safe spaces for people.” He stared at her face, her brows slightly furrowed and tongue just barely peeking out of the corner of her mouth. Most of her attention was on marking him with pristine lines, so her honesty flowed from her unfiltered. 

He took in the entirety of her studio again with a new perspective. The healing warmth of the sun seeping in, the calming music lulling him into a state of serenity, the sectioned off booths that created some privacy for her clients but not so much that they feel caged in, the art on the walls depicting black love and black excellence. Damn. She did a hell of a good job creating lightness when the world can be so dark. He found that inspiring.

He wanted to ask her more but “Take You There” began to play from her speakers, and her voice softly hummed along, she was lost in her own world and he was happy to let her be. It was interesting watching her work. She seemed reserved and shy speaking with him before, but now her hands moved confidently, her expressions changed as she concentrated, her scent was positively intoxicating and her braids tickled his skin every time she moved her face closer to his body. 

The pain grew more intense as she shaded a particularly sensitive spot above his nipple, and Terry groaned quietly, tightly closing his eyes and leaning his head back to rest on the seat. 

“I know I know, I’m sorry” Reigned murmured barely being heard above the sound of the tattoo gun, “You’re doing so well though Terry.” 

He tried not to react to that, but the mix of the pain keeping him grounded to her, and her sweet voice, it was getting to him. He hoped she didn’t look down any time soon. She had to roughly wipe the excess ink away from his skin before continuing, and he instinctively hissed at her through his teeth.

“I know soldier, we’ll be done soon” his eyes flew open at that and she paused to get more ink, looking him over. “I noticed the work on your arms. I’ve given my fair share of military tats” He nodded, forehead slightly damp from this whole ordeal.

“Do you wanna tell me about this one we’re doing today? Just if you’d like to share, I’ll be done in about an hour.” He didn’t say anything at first, just taking a quiet moment to feel the influx of emotions that bombarded him today, and she didn’t push him. Then he began to speak, gingerly revealing what happened in Shelby Springs, compelled by her peace to find healing in this moment. His eyes were clouded over, lost in the turmoil of his past, that he missed her frown of recognition. She’d heard about the horrors going on there in the news. Her heart ached for him.

She let him talk, and she listened intently as she worked, nodding and humming every now and then. He grew quiet and his whole face softened with his eyes closed as Reign drowned his freshly completed tattoo in the cold saline solution, gently wiping and repeating the process a few times.

She gave him a sad smile, so many thoughts swimming behind her eyes as she cleared the emotion from her throat before speaking. “All done” she tossed her gloves in the trash can, “lets go take a look.” She stood first, bending and stretching, her back popping from where it was curled over his body. Terry followed suit slowly, standing to his full height and stretching his arms over his head. 

Reign looked away quickly, walking over to the mirror to wait for him, begging her hormones to relax. This was not the time nor the place for this, he’s a new client for fucks sake. She shook her braids out of their messy bun to relieve the tension in her neck as she watched him approach from his reflection in the mirror. He eyed her form appreciatively, not at all subtle about it either, and she played with her hands, trying not to feel so small next to him. 

His eyes finally landed on his tattoo and immediately tears filled them. He hung his head silently as the tears fell down his cheeks and Reign panicked, not knowing what to do or say to help. She stepped closer, letting instinct guide her hand to gently rub his upper back. She peered around his body, trying to get a glimpse of his face in the mirror, and she watched his chest heave one deep shuddering breath. He brought big palms up to wipe his face before he looked up again, keeping her rooted to the spot with his sincere gaze. 

“Thank you.” his voice was so deep and swimming with emotions, and she felt a lump swelling in her own throat. He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn’t at this moment, feeling a dam break within him. He just stared at her, imploring her with his eyes to understand the impact of what she’d gifted him. 

She nodded, rubbing his back one last time before stepping away from him. “You’re most welcome Terry, thank you for trusting me with your story.” It was his turn to nod, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.  She turned away from him and went to find the wrap she would use to cover the tattoo, giving him some privacy with this new piece of his cousin he’d carry around with him forever. 

He made his way back to her when he was ready, and she began the quick process of covering his tattoo in protective wrap, explaining how to take care of it and telling him all the things he shouldn’t do in the next few days. Terry shrugged his shirt back on as she cleaned up the area they occupied, and he could fill a pit form in his stomach. He was hooked on her already, and the thought of leaving her so soon was bringing back the empty feeling he thought he’d left on the outside of her haven.

He sent her his payment from his phone, including an incredibly generous tip, and cut her off as she began to protest being paid double what she’d expected.

“I’d like to take you to dinner, Reign.” She froze, rich brown eyes wide behind her lenses. He kept going at her hesitation, “I’m pretty new to the city, and I haven’t met anyone worth knowing here until you.” He stepped closer, invading her senses with his provocative woody scent. “I’d love for you to show me all the places that make you happy, and I heard the quickest way to anyone's heart is through the stomach.” 

Reign smiled at that, it somehow wasn’t corny coming from such a fine ass man. “You got me there soldier” Terry smiled back to her and took her phone from her grasp, placing his number in it and shooting himself a text. He looked at her from underneath his lashes giving the phone back, and she swore she felt her knees buckle at the devilishly playful glint in his eyes.

“Is tomorrow night too soon?” She couldn’t resist his deep voice and overwhelming presence even if she wanted to, and her body had been growing warmer and warmer the longer he stayed in her space.

“I-I can make time for you” she stuttered embarrassingly at feeling the rough pad of his finger brushing her ear as he moved a braid out of her face.

“Good.” He walked backwards from her, hands in his pockets which seemed to make his biceps bulge, and he smiled softly at her “I’ll see you tomorrow pretty Reign.” he turned and she watched him saunter out the back of her studio, her breath returning to her when he was no longer in sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuuuuck I didn't realize writing something without sex in it was so hard 😅 idk if I have the stamina for a slow burn but I will certainly try, just know that the smut will come with a damn vengeance! Please let me know what you think! this is my first time doing an original character 🥲💕

Taglist: @teddybeerz @liatreads @eviescloset @sageispunk @planetblaque @soft-persephone @violetmuses @miyuhpapayuh @iterum-incipi @slutsareteacherstoo @blackgurlnhermoods @helloncrocs @megamindsecretlair

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[hoodiedcrows]

Dream tees

The graphic t-shirts we see on Joke and Jack and especially on Tattoo show us what each of them dreams of. These needs are often in direct contrast with their present situations.

Let's look at Joke:

"Valencia fruit market, grown locally", and "FEELING FRESH". He wants to be able to put down roots to become a local, and he desperately wants a fresh start. We know this already, of course; the tees are merely repeating the message. (A nice contrast of FEELING FRESH and a hangover, too.)

What about Jack?

"Happy place", and "Tranquility". Oof. I think that's as clear as it gets. The dream is to get through this, get to the happy place (that we see in his drawing of Grandma and... himself? or Joke?). To have a chance at calm days, and enough time to open a school.

There's also this tee mentioning COLLEGE, for the school dream (and perhaps for an old dream of going to college?). (It's actually from the brand boyis., and mentions a live gig by Rom Wong that the brand organised. So it's not about college as such. Might be reading too much into it, but wanted to mention it anyway. When clowning, clown all the way!) Joke's shirt is plain white, no wishes needed here since at this point he has a home to stay at and Jack to help build a school with.:)

Alright! Let's crack out knuckles and move on to Tattoo's tees.

✧ლ(￣◡￣ ლ)✧

Tattoo lives in graphic tees, ones that shout artist, free-spirited, rock'n'roll soul.

We start off strong with the introductory t-shirt: our beloved Bob Ross, truly the free-spirited artist. Bob is painting the universe, dreaming big and making his own world, and the colours of the celestial objects match Tattoo's gadgets' colours on the desk. One might consider the mechanic and the artist a contrasting mismatch (though I disagree). Bob is also very kind, whereas Tattoo at first glance is not; we'll see whether that comes into play with any of the other tees.

Sorry about your face, Bob, I did my best!

The second tee has a row of people holding their raised hands, again with blue and pink, very close to Tattoo's colours. The text reads "CITY AT PEACE", while Tattoo is being beaten up. (He also wears it while he and Hoy try to take down Joke while wearing masks.) That would be the dream, to have peace in their neighbourhood not to mention the whole city. Note the jeans with yellow and red splashes like an artist's coat!

Then we get a confusing one, with Scarecrow from Batman on it. We could take the associated "criminal mastermind obsessed with fear" to mean that Tattoo wishes he could use his genius to control the rich and powerful and fill them with fear. Not sure if we should though, to be honest - they might just be showing us a 'scary but cool renegade character'. In any case, we'll be seeing the tan brown colour again. And the artistic colour splatter jeans make an appearance again!

Then we get the absolute KING of shirts, the NO !! VIOLENCE tee.

There's the obvious, delightful juxtaposition in the scene. There is also the desperate dream of escaping the constant threat of violence, unavoidably interlinked with poverty and debt. Perhaps we will get to see a good ending as far as NO !! VIOLENCE goes; a hopeful one if not a happy one. I'd be satisfied with a realistic one as well though. (And Hope would not be happy with no violence. (Then again, do we have hope he can stay alive until the end?))

(Speaking of Hope, he wears a graphic tee as well, a Houston baseball club one. Rather than dream of playing baseball, he might just dream about using a bat to better hit people with, though.:3 The tee is only partly visible, apparently not meant to be read but rather there to Give Vibes and show colours.)

All right, next we have Tattoo threatened by Aran and his men. Time to Rock out!

"Lucky Brand 🎸 Rooted n Rock'n'Roll". Freedom and creative expression, with an artistic pair of jeans again. I've been pondering the Lucky; I think it ties in with another post that's on the back burner. In any case, he surely must have dreamt of having been born lucky (prosperous).

Next we get guitars again, with a "FREE BIRD" skull. Again pretty self explanatory, freedom from poverty and all the sharp and dull and chronic horrors it brings with it. Tattoo is a free soul at heart from what we've seen, despite his circumstances. They can't tell you what to think, the inside of your skull is free bro! (Except they can cause trauma, and they can in fact get into your skull, but. Well. Freedom is the dream.)

We should note that this sleeveless tee is tan as well, like the previous Scarecrow shirt, and like the flower sofa that we've seen in the bar. I mention this to tie it into the flower meta (whenever we reach the sofa scenes there). More on this later, then!

(And not a t-shirt, but we do have a logo for Hoy here. Can't make out the text but I can see scissors, ready to cut the string of their friendship if Tattoo decides to take the necklace.)

Then, in ep 6, we get Tattoo in a blank t-shirt.

It's a pause, a breather. He's paid off his mom's debt and even had some left over for her to spend. Even more importantly he's made the decision to give back the necklace, to choose friendship, connection, community rather than pay off the rest of the debt by hurting his friends. So, we have this short reprieve from always wanting, always feeling trapped; there is hope in having friends, in doing what feels like the right thing. (I think, had not Joke been there to catch him, he might have sat down and thought about how Mama Jeab and Hoy reacted, how Joke would react, how he himself would feel, and might have ended up making the same decision he made when Joke gave him the chance. But who knows!)

The shirt is a blank slate, a chance to change directions. I like that it's the one that he welcomes Aran into his home in (for a given amount of welcome). And the jeans are artistic as ever.

Then we're on ep 7, and Aran has inserted himself into Tattoo's daily life. Does this impact the t-shirts? Let's see. On the first day and into the second morning, there's the Chevrolet Corvette shirt with a car and palm trees in summery versions of Tattoo's colours. It's the first car tee we've seen, but otherwise not too much off from the others as far as colours and style go. (Perhaps there's a little more breathing space now to fantasize about a future where he might own a car, might own something that takes considerable financial investment? Or at least dream about the freedom of driving around in a nice vehicle without any specific destination? With rock music playing from the car stereos and someone on the passenger seat...)

Then we get somewhat of an anomaly. Blue and purple and teal in a funky pattern, with creative genius Jimi Hendrix and his ever-present guitar, and Purple Haze (a love song, according to Hendrix). So, we lean into artistic and free-spirited rock'n'roll again.

But what is up with the colours, suddenly? I do see a way to connect this to Tattoo's and Aran's colours, but to be honest I think this is more likely a nod to Mark and Prom's vlog. @respectthepetty has mentioned this in a post already, but Mark wears a blue shirt very similar to the one Aran wears in this scene (most likely Tattoo's, but since there's another post where we'll go into all of that we can leave it for now), and Prom wears a knit with a purple and blue free-flowing pattern not too far off from the one on Tattoo's t-shirt.

So, we'll go with "PromMark crumbs" for now.

And lastly, in the latest tee we've seen, we get the biggest hint so far that Tattoo's t-shirts are being influenced by Aran's presence in his life.

The tee apparently says "Genuine Motors" on it, but more clearly we see a bird in flight, feathers, and a dark pink rose.

I can't believe I looked at the rose, screencapped the rose, let the rose sit at the end of this draft for ages, and only now when I reach it again do I wonder whether it connects to the flower meta. (It does indeed. I am loving it here in my silly little flower meta land.)

So, we'll talk about the rose over there at some point. For now let me just say that for those of us who enjoy the journey of Aran and Tattoo, this soft tee with the rose and the pink-tinged feathers tells us there is finally a little bit of space in Tattoo's head and heart and dreams. Space for a new person to enter.

That's it for the dream tees for now, we'll see what the final third of the series brings us. Thank you for reading:)

[worldtattoogallery]

It’s an H-town thang. Perfect black and grey tattoo artwork done by tattoo artist © Mike Cruz from God Family Art Houston, TX.

[khii-khii]

Hey yall, I’m a tattoo artist based in Houston, hmu if you looking for a new tat 🫶🏾

https://www.instagram.com/soulcaresser?igsh=eXJkM25ua282Y3E%3D&utm_source=qr

[sicknessbysalem]

tw emeto, chronic illness, implications of shitty parents, emeto (again)

if you have any questions, comments, concerns, requests, please hit up my ask box!!

Meadow would never say she was the nosy type. But she did like knowing things. Or, at least, knowing things about her loved ones.

Arizona loved working on the Dixon ranch. She wasn’t much of a showgirl, but she loved her horse deeply. She loved the hands on hard work that came from working on a farm. Arizona loved the taste of fresh eggs and loved herbal tea.

Allie only liked saying she was a cowgirl to say she was one. Any hard work was not her forte. She loved going into the city, going to the mall, doing the typical popular girl things.

Houston didn’t have a preference on what job he liked more. He loved the creativity that came with being a tattoo artist, he wanted to get into piercing. He loved the social aspect of the tavern. His favorite thing was sour treats. He taught himself how to play guitar. He’d been writing music since he was thirteen.

And then there was River. Meadow loved River, deeply. Meadow knew River’s favorite color was purple. River’s favorite thing to do was collect pins for the old vest they wore almost every show. They liked salty treats, but didn’t eat much. They read tarot easily and would sooner tell a pearl-gripping church grandmother her astrology chart and how it made her the way she was than River would ever go within inches of a holy text of any kind.

Meadow knew a lot about River. Meadow knew River’s parents partially kicked River out when they were sixteen. Relocated River to the run down shed tucked way behind the property. River’s parents told them that if they could come up with the funds to fix it up, they could live there. For a fee of course, like rent. River was very handy, River knew a lot of handy people. The borderline shed was flipped into a sustainable tiny home in weeks. That’s where River lived. That’s where Meadow would spend the night.

Meadow also knows that River is a world class insomniac. River doesn’t sleep much, or rather, their sleep is very fragmented.

So when it’s a random Thursday night in July and Meadow wakes up to an absence of River lying down next to her, Meadow isn’t worried. In fact, Meadow is more concerned why she woke up anyway. Meadow rarely woke up in the middle of the night.

Meadow sat up. River wasn’t in the bean bag on the floor. Meadow wondered if maybe River woke up after falling asleep, couldn’t get back to sleep, and decided to go out to the living room to not bother Meadow.

Meadow poked her head out of River’s bedroom door. She slipped out, quietly. Only a few steps outside the bedroom door, Meadow saw light coming out from under the bathroom door.

Meadow isn’t worried. She has no reason to be, she’s sure. River had probably woken up, went to the living room, maybe made some tea or something, and just had to use the bathroom.

Meadow shrugs to herself, going back into River’s room. She grabs her phone from the nightstand, looks at the time. It’s just after one.

Meadow really isn’t worried. And now, knowing River didn’t just go out in the middle of the night as they sometimes did for walks and such to calm down, she’s calm again. She sets her phone down, lays down. She’ll go back to sleep and River will come back when they are ready. They always do.

-

River’s sleep patterns had always been a disaster. River themself would call it a ‘fucking trainwreck’.

They’d played a show with the band, something small and somewhat local. It was maybe half an hours drive away from their home. Or, whatever this was.

Meadow was spending the night. River loved when Meadow spent the night. It made their place much less lonely. River was an introvert, yes. But a lonely introvert.

Tonight they fell asleep rather easily. Almost too easily. Whether it was the way Meadow played with their hair as they cuddles, or hearing Meadow’s adorable Applachian voice on the phone with Houston while River was dozing off, something made River fall asleep far easier than normal.

But despite the easy falling asleep, River’s eyes fluttered open to the all-too-familiar pitch of wakefulness. The dim glow of the moonlight seeped through the window, casting a pale shimmer over the cluttered room, but it was the gnawing discomfort in their stomach that fully pulled them from sleep’s tenuous grasp.

Sighing, River sat up, trying to gather their scattered thoughts. The room felt stuffy, oppressive. They had meant to go to the living room and lay on the couch, away from Meadow. They didn’t want to bother her. Especially not if they were just feeling shitty from waking up.

River pushed back the blankets and slid off the bed, but by time they’re in the hall, River can feel genuine nausea starting to poke at their stomach. They detoured against their will, each step towards the bathroom feeling heavier as the nausea began to churn more insistently.

This wasn’t a new feeling of course—these bouts of nausea had become unwelcome but well-known visitors in their life. They always hit at night too, which made it worse. Still, familiarity didn’t soften the edge of discomfort.

Once in the bathroom, River closed the door softly and flipped on the light, squinting against the sudden brightness.

The white tiles and sterile fixtures had a starkness that made them feel even more sick. They moved mechanically. This was normal. Normal for River. They had a routine by now when this happened. Open the medicine cabinet, retrieve the anti-nausea medication they got prescribed against their parent’s will, and swallow it with a sip of water.

The nausea, however, had its own timeline. River slid down to sit on the cool bathroom floor, their back resting against the tub. The chill of the tiles seeped through their thin shirt, a small relief against the waves of heat rolling through their body.

They closed their eyes, focusing on their breathing—slow, measured inhales and exhales to combat the rising tide of sickness. The familiar ritual of mindfulness and controlled breathing had been their anchor many times before. The last thing River wanted was to actually end up vomiting.

River’s thoughts drifted as they waited for the medication to kick in. Anything they could to distract themselves from this until they could go lay back down.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The nausea was a stubborn adversary, refusing to relent easily. River opened their eyes, glancing around the small bathroom. They hated this, deeply. And they especially hated it was happening while Meadow was here.

They leaned forward, resting their forehead on their knees, drawing comfort from the closed, grounded posture.

Slowly, they started to level out. River took a deeper breath, feeling the tight knot in their stomach loosen slightly. They lifted their head, leaning back against the tub again, letting their body relax incrementally. They couldn’t relax all at once. No, not unless they really wanted to override their medicine and end up sick.

In time, the worst passed. River stood up slowly, splashed water on their face.

The cool water on River’s face was a stark contrast to the lingering warmth of their skin, a small mercy that helped ground them in the moment.

They cupped their hands under the faucet again, letting the water flow over their fingers before bringing it up to splash their cheeks. Each splash was a deliberate, careful act, as if trying to wash away the remnants of the nausea that had plagued them.

As they looked up into the mirror, their reflection stared back, pale and tired. River's eyes were ringed with shadows, a testament to the sleepless nights and restless days that had become their norm.

With a deep breath, they reached for a towel, patting their face dry, feeling a cautious optimism that the worst had finally passed.

Just as they turned to leave the bathroom, a sudden wave of nausea crashed over them, more forceful than before. River clutched the edge of the sink, their knuckles turning white as they fought to stay upright. The room spun around them, and a cold sweat broke out across their forehead. That wasn’t good. That was never good.

River barely made it to the toilet before they were sick, the sound harsh and jarring in the quiet of the night. They braced themselves, muscles tensing. River could feel their stomach pull in, could feel the gags pull their throat. The moments felt endless.

They ate today, too. Well, they ate every day, but what sucked was River had actually been more hungry than usual today, meaning they had plenty to bring up, and their body was hellbent on getting it up.

When it finally subsided, River leaned against the bathroom wall, panting softly. It took longer than they wanted to pull themselves back together, but they did. They rinsed their mouth and washed their hands, moving through the motions with a mechanical precision born of how much this happened.

Miraculously, Meadow slept through it all. River was grateful; the last thing they wanted was to disturb her. They took a few more moments to compose themselves, splashing their face one last time to chase away the lingering queasiness. Their legs felt shaky as they stood, but the nausea had retreated to a manageable dull throb.

Quietly, River crept back to the bedroom. Meadow’s peaceful form was a soothing sight in the dim light. River hesitated at the doorway, watching her for a moment, the rise and fall of her breathing a gentle rhythm that coaxed River forward.

River’s stomach gurgled, they swallowed thick. They’d end up sick again, they were sure. But it didn’t feel immediate enough to warrant going back to the bathroom.

So, instead, River pulled the trash can closer to the bed. River hoped they would have enough warning to go back to the bathroom, but sometimes that didn’t happen. Better safe than sorry.

They slipped back under the covers, careful not to jostle the bed too much.

But Meadow stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

“River?” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. “Are you okay?”

River’s heart clenched at the concern in her voice. They forced a smile, though it felt thin and fragile.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” they lied gently, not wanting to burden her with the truth. “Couldn’t fall back asleep yet. Just had to use the bathroom.”

Meadow’s eyes searched River’s face, but she was too drowsy to notice the lingering pallor or the faint sheen of sweat on their brow. She nodded, accepting the answer, and closed her eyes again, her hand finding River’s under the covers.

River lay down beside her, feeling the familiar comfort of Meadow’s presence. They closed their eyes, hoping the worst was indeed over, and willed their body to relax into the embrace of sleep once more.

-

In the dim early hours of the morning, Meadow instinctively moved closer to River, her arm draping lightly across their midsection. Even in her sleep, she sought the comfort of their presence. River, in their fitful slumber, barely registered the gentle pressure around their stomach, their body too exhausted to fully wake.

As the minutes ticked by, Meadow’s subconscious awareness began to sharpen. She felt the subtle tension in River’s body, the way their breathing was slightly ragged and uneven. Her own sleep began to slip away as she became more attuned to River’s discomfort.

Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the faint light filtering through the curtains. Meadow’s hand still rested on River’s stomach, and she could feel the tight, uneasy knots beneath her fingertips. A frown creased her brow as she fully woke, the realization of River’s distress hitting her like a cold splash of water.

“River?” she whispered softly, her voice thick with concern.

River’s eyes were closed, their face pinched in discomfort. They hadn’t yet woken fully, but their body was already reacting to the growing nausea. Meadow’s heart ached as she watched them, knowing the signs all too well. She shifted slightly, giving River more room, but kept her hand on their stomach, hoping to offer some small comfort.

Just as she feared, it didn’t take long for the nausea to surge with a force that River could no longer ignore. Meadow felt their stomach grumble in a very sick way, something that told Meadow what was about to happen.

Their eyes snapped open, a pained gasp escaping their lips as they instinctively reached for the trash can they had placed near the bed earlier, always prepared.

“Meadow, please let—“ River began, their voice strained. They started to untangle themselves from Meadow, the urgency in their movements making it clear that the sickness was imminent. Meadow was hardly touching them, they knew that. But any pressure on their stomach was only making this worse.

Meadow quickly sat up, her heart racing. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” she said, her voice soothing despite the alarm she felt. She helped River pull the trash can closer, her hands steady even as worry churned in her stomach.

River barely managed to lift the trash can to their lap before the nausea hit full force. Meadow’s hand rubbed soothing circles on their back as River was sick, the sound harsh and jarring in the quiet room.

Meadow’s heart ached with every retch, wishing she could do more to ease their pain. She stroked her hand over River’s messy hair, brushing back the black and red locks. Keeping them away from getting messy.

When the worst had passed, River leaned back, panting softly, the trash can still clutched in their hands. They looked exhausted, eyes glazed with tears from the effort. Meadow reached out, brushing a damp lock of hair from River’s forehead, her touch gentle and loving.

Meadow was going to ask. Meadow was going to ask a stupid question, she was sure. She wanted to ask how River felt now. Now that they’d thrown up.

But River’s stomach let out a loud, sick noise. A sound between a sickly burp and a whine came out of River’s mouth, and River tensed tightly.

“Let’s get you to the bathroom,” Meadow suggested softly. “We don’t want you to stay like this here.”

River nodded weakly, their strength sapped from the ordeal. With Meadow’s help, they managed to stand, holding the trash can close as they made their way to the bathroom. They felt like they’d start vomiting at any second now.

Meadow’s arm was a steady support around their shoulders, guiding them with a quiet strength.

Once in the bathroom, River sank to the floor, kneeling in front of the toilet and setting the trash can aside as they leaned against the cool tiles. They rested their elbow on the toilet seat and leaned their head against their fist. Meadow knelt beside them, her presence a comforting anchor in the storm of their sickness.

“I’m sorry,” River murmured, their voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Meadow shook her head, her eyes soft with understanding. “You don’t have to apologize,” she said gently. “I’m here for you, always.”

River nodded. Another small sound. A gag, a burp, a whine. River burped up a mouthful of sick. And then another, and a another.

Finally, a guttural gag sent up a stream of sick though thick and abundant that River could swear they were choking. It made them cough, and with coughs came even more vomiting. River felt it in their nose. They were crying. Probably from the effort, but their stomach was hurting.

Then as suddenly as the abundant wave came up, River’s body wasn’t sending anything up. But River was still heaving, little streams of bile coming up, small implications there was more.

Meadow could sense it, maybe. Maybe she was just trying to help. But, River felt a hand on their stomach, not their own, rubbing patterns into their torso.

Occasionally, Meadow would press harder with the heel of her hand. That made all the difference.

River gagged, harder. But, Meadow kept rubbing River’s stomach, pressing hard to make her poor partner sick, anything to make them feel better.

“God, your stomach feels so upset,” Meadow sighed, “Let’s try and fix that.”

The rubbing progressed to squeezing. Each squeeze sent up another mouthful of vomit until there was nothing left but spit.

“How’s that feelin’ darlin’?” Meadow asked softly.

“I feel like shit babe,” River said.

Meadow sighed, petting River’s hair again.

“I know sugar,” Meadow said, “Want me to call April? She’ll help in an instant. We can take you there?”

“No,” River said, “I’m fine. Just nauseous… really nauseous but not like I’m going to throw up anymore. Not yet.”

River closed their eyes, leaning into the touch of Meadow’s hand over their hair. Despite the nausea, despite the exhaustion, there was a deep sense of relief in knowing they weren’t alone.

As the minutes passed, River’s breathing began to steady, the worst of the nausea ebbing away. Meadow stayed by their side, her presence a constant reminder that they were loved and cared for, no matter what.

“I’ll call momma in the morning,” Meadow said, “If you’re still feelin’ bad, alright lovebug?”

River nodded, laying their head on Meadow’s shoulder. Meadow wrapped an arm around ound them.

“I got you, lovebug,” Meadow said, “Just try and breathe. We’ll try everything else later.”

[thestylesindependent]

We haven’t seen an artist like him since David Bowie

I’ve always considered myself to be somewhat of a music purist.

I still listen to albums from front to back, usually on an old record player I keep next to a collection of EPs that produces a lovely scratchy sound as original masterpieces from Revolver to The Queen Is Dead turn on its table.

Those albums aren’t just important because they are musical triumphs, they’re important because they had a profound impact on the industry and influenced cultural movements that impacted society as a whole.

Without the Beatles there is no Pixies, Nirvana or Oasis. Without The Smiths there is no Stone Roses, Radiohead or The Libertines. But what those bands did for women’s liberation, gay liberation, environmentalism and working class movements is equally profound. Both are bands whose popularity was supplanted by their artistry, giving them a unique position in the annals of music history.

For me, ever since the X Factor aired on our screens, fronted by Simon Cowell with his pearly white teeth, pristine T and Twickers jeans and shoes combination, it has been the absolute antithesis of all that.

The public flogging of people out to chase their dreams has seen huge audiences flock to the show over the years as they crown acts who manage to not butcher classic covers. As Michael Rosenberg (AKA Passenger) once put it, the show “murdered music” at the altar of a few “money-grabbing pricks”. It robbed us of an original Christmas Number 1 for decades until a countermovement propelled Rage Against The Machine to the top spot. And quite right, too.

But the show has, quite miraculously, given birth to a musician who, in my view, belongs in the same category as The Beatles, The Smiths and, pertainantly, David Bowie in status.

Harry Styles, formerly of One Direction fame, is quite obviously a popular bloke. He is about to perform in front of 90,000 people at Wembley for the fourth night after completing the highest selling Scottish stadium tour ever. He has 48.9 million followers on Instagram and his 2022 hit ‘As It Was’ was the most streamed Spotify song that year.

But his popularity should not be confused with his artistry.

Styles is more than just the hoards of screaming teenage fans and strings of celebrity endorsements we’ve come to know him for. He’s actually an icon both in music and in style, and increasingly an icon in modern movements of inclusiveness and self-worth.

During a concert in Houston, Texas, in 2018, he interacted with a ten-year-old boy in the crowd who had become overcome with emotion. Styles assured the young boy, “Crying is very manly. Being vulnerable is manly”. That is fucking classy, man.

His debut album artwork, which depicts the least tattooed area of his naked body half-submerged in a pastel pink bath, similarly conveys vulnerability, femininity, reflection, and intimacy, all of which are buzzwords for new youth movements that will only grow in acceptance and popularity.

When I look at his Love on Tour show I don’t see a teenage heartthrob. I see the Beatles. I look at his fashion and I see Bowie. I look at the messages he’s sending out to kids and I see Jack Kerouac and the Beat Generation. And I see the fact that nobody is talking about him in those terms as proof that he is actually woefully underrated.

Now bring on the hate…

[angelbladetats]

the CUTEST tattoo I've ever done brb i am exploding

[gashface]

SHINE CONTESTANTS

Name: Mandy

Location: Futuristic San Myshuno

Age: 21

Pronouns: She/They

Story: So Mandy is a heavily cyber-augmented girl studying Robotics at the University in a cyberpunk reimagine of the Sims world. In the world she lives in, cyber modification is really common for everyone. She has glowing eyes and while she's usually depicted with a human skin tone she is entirely blue metal underneath. Her fave color is blue so she always has blue on her in some regard. She has albinism. She has a really wacky fashion style that usually consists of oddly matched silhouettes. She's really smart, hence robotics, but has the tenancy to speak without thinking. She LOVES singing and is working on a side music career as she studies, but is struggling to balance her newfound music popularity with her studies.

Created by: @skaterboisims

Name: Parker Winston

Location: Seattle

Age: 25

Pronouns: He/They

Story: My sim is Parker. He's genderfluid but prefers he/him and sometimes they/them. He grew up in a small, very religious town where being queer and loud weren't acceptable things. Being both, he decided to head for Seattle when he was old enough. He's an artist and has dabbled in anything creative he can get his hands on, from drag to tattooing to graffiti, he's done it all. Self-expression is the most important thing in the world to him and he shows that in his style, his art, and his hair dye. And though he likes to cling to his heavy grunge and emo styles, he's never met a color he didn't like or a pattern he wasn't willing to serve with all his heart.

"If I had to describe myself, it would be if like Barbie was in The Crow instead of Brandon Lee." - Parker

Created by: @morgynemberisagenderfluiddaddy

Name: Dillion Carter

Location: Houston, TX

Age: 25

Pronouns: No specific pronouns but they refer to themselves as They/Them, She/Her and He/Him, occasionally.

Story: Dillion's story starts with a graffiti-riddled alleyway. Being abandoned by well-known junkies, a screaming baby was found by the police and then placed into foster care. It was not easy for the first decade of their life. A lot of blood, betrayals, and fistfights were not lost. Eight homes returning her that used to be intrigued. No one had really wanted a child that would barely talk, but also not know when to give up and back down. Until one day, the Carter Family had taken them in as a preteen and had not returned them. It's been history ever since. The adopted family was black and Dillion was as pale as could be, but the whispers did not deter them from growing even closer and loving each other. Dillion's quiet yet useful, bold, and confident demeanour has landed them two jobs: a mechanic and underground boxer by day, and recommended by their sisters in the fashion industry— a model by night. It is those same sisters that had shown them the "Shine" modelling competition and convinced them that it was good exposure. That Dillion was worth so much more than what they had. Dillion responded with a smirk, a shrug, and a "Why not?" They'll just let their body speak for itself.

Created by: @mewo-ita

Name: Rin Miura

Location: Born in Mt. Komorebi but currently living in San Myshuno

Age: 19

Pronouns: She / Her

Story: rin's a college student, an aspiring fashion designer, but most importantly - a loser!! <3 She dreams of creating fashionable pieces for everyone in the world, but gets too caught up in the details, and gets way too carried away .. so she mostly just makes (insane-looking) clothes for herself. she thoroughly documents the entire creation process online; her other hobbies include doll collecting drawing pet training making music cooking baking building furniture and honestly just whatever the hell comes to her mind!!! shes very very happy-go-lucky, sweet but a bit airheaded and also VERY loud :3

Created by: @glittermutt

Name: Eli Sims

Location: Willow Creek

Age: 24

Pronouns: She/her

Story: Elizabeth Gil is the daughter of a famous fashion designer and a famous model, so she's known everything about the industry since she was very little. She always wanted to be a model like her mom and she would watch her during photoshoots and fashion shows. When her parents noticed her interest in the industry to started preparing her for her debut in it. Her first runway gig was at 15 years old for her father's spring couture show. She kept working under him for the next 3 years, barely catching a break, until she turned 18 and immediately left home and her career with her father's brand. She lost contact with her parents and nothing's been heard from her since then. In other news, the latest high-end model Eli Sims, known for her outstanding white hair, is opening the Chanel show at New York fashion week this evening, we wish her the best of luck!

A/N: yeah so basically my sim is a nepo baby that left her family,, changed her appearance and got back in the game all on her own. Her parents don't know she's modelling again, and every time her father has tried to get her on one of his shows she's declined, she does not wanna see them again bc of the awful way they treated her

Created by: @simsinfinitylt

Name: Ember Arendse

Location: San Myshuno

Age: 23

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs

Story: Growing up in San Myshuno with a very artistically inclined and supportive family, Ember has always taken to all things creative. Lead singer and guitarist of ‘The Gutter Rats’, they always found comfort in expressing themselves in front of an audience, so though their area of expertise lies in freelance photography; They have been curious as to what it would be like to be in front of the camera.

Created by: @wolfrynn313

Name: Charline Morel

Location: Brindleton Bay

Age: 21

Pronouns: She/Her

Story: Charline "Charlie" Morel was born as the first of two daughters to an overly strict wealthy family. The Morels were a family of musicians, and every child born to the family was expected to be a musician, and those in the direct line were expected to inherit the family instrument manufacturing business (or whatever it was, Charlie really couldn't care less). Unfortunately, Charlie did not inherit her family's ear for music - she knew she wanted to be a creative soul, but honestly, she wasn't very good at any of it. Her parents forced her to take singing lessons because it was the only thing musical she was any good at, but she always wanted to do something else. She didn't know what that was until she graduated from high school - she wanted to model. She had tried taking pictures once, but quickly she realized she preferred being in front of the camera instead. So she packed up her belongings and moved out - not terribly far away, but out of her parents' clutches. Charlie is a stubborn, self-assured girl who is determined to prove herself and make a name in something other than music. Once she gets an idea in her head, she is determined to see it through to its finish - or crash and burn trying. (Even if her inner perfectionist cries out in terror at the prospect.)

Created by: @cyazurai

Name: Nicky Soufan

Location: San-Myshuno

Age: 19

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Since childhood, Nicky dreamed of becoming a model. The parents were not happy about this, because they thought that she would become a doctor like them, but they could not interfere with their daughter's desire and tried to help her in any way they could. At the age of 13, they sent her to a modelling school, where the girl stayed for 4 years. Not having received the proper result, the parents took Nicky out of there. She was in despair and did not know what to do now, because the modeling school took away from her all the desire to go to her dream. One day, Nika's friend, a photographer, invited her to his shooting to work on his hand. After this photo shoot, the girl again had a burning desire to become a model.

Created by: @rosamadchen

Name: Willow Young

Location: Willow Creek

Age: 30

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Willow is a new coming Simstuber. She is a mother of one & married to Irving Young. She loves to make art and travel and make woodwork. Willow is a very cheerful woman and she also loves taking photos. As friendly as she seems, she doesn't trust others easily. Willow hopes to become popular and rich. Willow always had an interest in modelling since she read magazines as a child.

Created by: @ohgeezhaddie

Name: Dawn Pepper

Location: StrangerVille

Age: 23

Pronouns: She/They

Story: Dawn is you typical 23 trying to branch out of her comfort zone. Her bold looks usually come from her bold and bizarre surroundings where she grew up. However as he daily part-time job in retail has completely bored her she finally wants to leave her comfort zone, meet new people, and explore new places!

Created by: @bigppton-jpeg

Name: Babylon Fleur Beppu.

Location: Glimmerbrook but was raised in Windenburg.

Age: 18

Pronouns: She/They

Story: Babylon is currently eighteen years old and was born on June 28, making her a Cancerian. Although she isn't aware, she is a fairy born of two ordinary townies. In my Sims Au, fairies are extinct and have been so for many years. She was born in Glimmberbrook but was raised in Windenburg.

Created by: @everythingaestheticlly

Name: Genie Fiorelli

Location: NO INFO PROVIDED

Age: NO INFO PROVIDED

Pronouns: She/Her

Story: NO INFO PROVIDED

Created by: @plumbobcrumble

Name: Su-Yen

Location: Korea

Age: 19

Pronouns: She/Her

Story: Su-yen is the youngest in a family full of models and actors. But Su-yen decided she wanted something else and tried to be a dancer. But now that she is a bit older she decided to follow in her mother's and older siblings' footsteps and do some modelling. The problem? Su-yen is reckless to the extreme. She is constantly injured from skating on trying to do stunts. She is often sporting bandages.

Created by: @dododoesstuffs

THANK YOU, EVERYONE, WHO ENTERED!

A FOLLOW-UP POST IS BEING SENT WITH FIRST WEEKS PROMPT!~

[rosesnthornz]

🌹— a guide to … LEE JANG-MI

🌹 — BASICS !

BIRTH NAME ! lee jang-mi

ENGLISH NAME ! cecilia chiara cynthia rose williams

IGBO NAME ! amarachi okoye

NICKNAMES ! lia, chichi, tia, mimi, rosie

BIRTHDAY ! july 15th, 1997

ZODIAC ! cancer

BIRTHPLACE ! busan, south korea

HOMETOWN ! seoul, south korea + london, england + los angeles, california

ETHNICITY ! korean-nigerian

NATIONALITY ! korean-american

SEXUALITY ! bisexual

🌹 — PHYSICAL !

HEIGHT ! 5’5” 1/2 (166 cm)

WEIGHT ! 116 lbs (52 kg)

BLOOD TYPE ! o-

PIERCINGS !

— eyebrow piercing

— snakebite piercings

— tongue piercing

TATTOOS !

— see here !

🌹 — CLAIMS !

FACE CLAIM ! wolftyla / tyla parham

VOICE CLAIM ! chlöe bailey (english) + ailee (soloist / korean) or taeyeon (snsd / korean)

DANCE CLAIM ! lisa (blackpink)

🌹 — CAREER !

STAGE NAME ! lia williams + lee jang-mi (이장미)

COMPANY ! interscope records + yg entertainment

OCCUPATION ! singer-songwriter, producer, actress, model, choreographer, radio show host, businesswoman

DEBUT DATE ! october 16th, 2015

TRAINEE YEARS ! 1 year (july 2014 — july 2015)

YEARS ACTIVE ! 2015 — present

SURVIVAL SHOWS ! girls’ planet 999 (2021 / as a mentor) + queendom 2 (2022 / as a judge) + street woman fighter 2 (2023 / as a judge) + universe ticket (2023 / as a judge)

FANDOM NAME ! rosies

COLORS ! #800020 + #36013F + #000000

🌹 — BACKGROUND !

LEE JANG-MI was born on july 15th, 1997 in busan, south korea to DAVID OKOYE and LEE CHUN JA. the former was a former olympic swimmer and united nations diplomat who hailed from one of the wealthiest families in nigeria. the latter was one of asia’s most well known singers, as well as an actress and a former beauty queen, and she also happened to be a SAMSUNG heiress. shortly after jang-mi was born, she and her parents moved to seoul in order to be closer to her maternal grandparents. the family would spend most of their time there, although they would briefly reside in london, as well.

despite the family’s picture perfect life, tragedy would strike a mere nine months following jang-mi’s birth. in may 1998, they would travel to italy to celebrate chun ja’s 31st birthday, which fell on the 25th. just four days later, however, both of jang-mi’s parents found themselves in a devastating car accident. unfortunately, the accident took both of their lives. chun ja was pronounced dead at the scene, while david fell into a coma, and later succumbed to his injuries a day later. jang-mi and her grandparents were quick to return to korea, and she was left in their care as her parents’ sudden deaths made international news.

up until jang-mi’s first birthday, she was raised by her grandparents and occasionally by her aunt, lee chaewon. however, her grandparents were already retired, and the grief of losing their eldest daughter and son-in-law made it hard for them to properly raise their granddaughter. chun ja’s youngest sister, bae eun-ji, already had a family of her own, and she was unsure if she could split her time amongst three children who were all under the age of five. meanwhile, although chaewon was unmarried, she was almost always working, and she didn’t want to leave jang-mi in the care of a nanny most of the time. and on top of that, her paternal grandparents resided in nigeria. as a result, jang-mi was regrettably put up for adoption. after a few months in a foster home, she was eventually adopted by a couple from southern california. she was given an english name, cecilia, and her middle names were taken from what her parents wanted to name her (chiara), her mother’s own english name (cynthia), and the meaning of her birth name (rose). and although the world knew of jang-mi’s existence, no one would know what became of her for the next seventeen years.

from then on, jang-mi was raised in california along with her older sister, who was also adopted. she grew up with a particular passion for music, and frequently listened to artists such as WHITNEY HOUSTON, MARIAH CAREY, DESTINY’S CHILD, AALIYAH, ASHANTI, AMERIE, ERYKAH BADU, THE SUPREMES, S.E.S, WONDER GIRLS, SNSD, KARA, 2NE1, MISS A, and LEE HYORI. at the age of fifteen, jang-mi began posting song covers and the occasional original song onto youtube. she began working at a nanette lepore boutique a year later, but shortly after she started her job, she was cast off the street by a representative of IMG MODELS, and was encouraged to enter an open casting call. although jang-mi failed to get a job, she managed to work her way into advertisements and editorials.

in 2013, she was encouraged to participate in that year’s MISS TEEN CALIFORNIA pageant. although initially skeptical, jang-mi would end up participating, and surprisingly, she won. the resulting exposure gave her acting and modeling opportunities like never before, and instead of participating in MISS TEEN USA, jang-mi used the attention to get her music career off the ground. she began starring in off-broadway productions, performing on the streets of los angeles, giving out her demo CDs to the people that would stop to watch her, posting her street performances to youtube, and writing as many songs as possible in her free time. meanwhile, her youtube channel was garnering a significant amount of traction. during the summer of 2014, her covers of PARAMORE’s “still into you” and of LEE HI’s “rose” would go viral. the former got her invited to one of the band’s concerts, while the latter caught the attention of YG ENTERTAINMENT. the label invited her to audition, and wanting to get closer to her home country through music, jang-mi accepted.

jang-mi sang ALICIA KEYS’ “no one” at the final round, and to her surprise, she passed auditions. she signed a 2-year contract with YG, and as a result, she had to quit her job, place her modeling career on hold, and move to south korea. she didn’t stop posting to her youtube channel, however, using it to record her progress as a trainee. jang-mi trained alongside the future members of BLACKPINK, and was actually meant to be one of the group’s members, renowned for her powerful vocals. while training, she had background vocals on the songs of other YG artists, wrote songs for them and what would become BLACKPINK’s discography (including the “WHISTLE” demo and “PLAYING WITH FIRE”), and had small roles in a few dramas. jang-mi was particularly hard working during her time as a trainee, and would even spend her days off in dance studios or at karaoke. however, a year into her trainee, she began having doubts, particularly about how she would be received in a country such as south korea. those doubts turned into stress, and it forced jang-mi to leave the company. returning home, she felt as if she had accomplished nothing.

jang-mi’s brief depressive state after leaving YG only pushed her to work harder, however. after returning to california, she didn’t return to her job, and instead focused most of her time on music and getting into university. in september, she was contacted by record label FUELED BY RAMEN, but she declined their contract offer, as it made her feel better to have control over the earliest aspects of her career. jang-mi formed the band ROSES ‘N THORNS with some of her high school friends, began uploading her original work to SOUNDCLOUD, and immediately started working on what would be her debut album.

in mid-october, jang-mi’s debut single “REWIND” would be released, and her album of the same name would drop at the beginning of november. going by the name LIA WILLIAMS, she spent her time touring across california in small venues and performing at local music festivals. in january 2016, however, a representative from INTERSCOPE RECORDS would attend one of jang-mi’s concerts. she was told about a potential record deal with the label, and just days later, she was singing her music in front of executives in INTERSCOPE’s headquarters. and instead of taking a month like she expected, jang-mi was signing a deal within a couple of hours, with JIMMY IOVINE reportedly saying that no one could leave until she was signed. and immediately afterwards, jang-mi got to work on her major label debut album, FRUITS OF MY LABOR, which would go on to catapult her into mainstream success.

fast forward to 2019, and wanting to begin a career as an idol in korea, jang-mi began looking for agencies to sign to. initially, SM ENTERTAINMENT, SOURCE MUSIC, and RBW looked to sign her, but she declined all of their offers. eventually, in june, she signed with YG—the same company that she trained under five years prior. two months later, her debut album was released, and its lead single topped charts across asia. jang-mi is now one of YG’s most successful soloists, and not only is she one of the best selling artists in korea, but she’s one of the highest selling artists in the WORLD, renowned for her performance skills, lyricism, and impressive vocal ability, garnering the title of “PRINCESS OF POP.”