#it is BRIEFLY implied/mentioned but yall stay safe pls

[goosewizard]

chat i would like to propose in universe ctommy tattoo artist

(also on ao3)

tommy doesn't remember when he started tattooing.

he has a small stick and poke from l'manberg, something stupid he and tubbo did one night with sewing needles and ink. a lopsided 'T' still rests on his ankle, and he knows tubbo has a matching one. they're small and faded and dumb to look at but they face the other when the two stand side by side, and that's enough for them both.

(he remembers tubbo had looked at it in awe after it was done, asking if he could do a bee next, and tommy figured he may have to get more serious about blood-borne diseases)

he practices on himself, writes out POGCHAMP on his knuckles (and then thanks Prime that hand tattoos fade fast). he sports two uneven black circles above his right knee, with small blobs of green and purple in their centers. wilbur had commented on how they looked like a particularly nasty bruise, but tommy found fresh needles, gloves, and rotten flesh on his bed later, so he'd like to call it even.

(besides, he likes how it looks)

he had garnered a bit of a reputation after that, working on whoever would let him. tubbo gets his bee, a whole swarm of them really, niki gets flame dancing up her arm, fundy asks for something or other, but they could never really figure out the logistics of it. it was good for a while.

and then open wounds are too much of a risk to take.

and then they're free.

and then there's schlatt.

in the quiet of pogtopia, wilbur asks him for a flag, the flag, right over his heart. tommy scoffs but takes extra time making sure the ink he's using is just the right color. it had been some of his finest work. wilbur had loved it.

(he tries not to think about how there's a scar running through it now. he guesses some things were never meant to last after all.)

tommy would say that he doesn't do touch-ups, that all his work is perfect the first time and you can suck it.

that rule doesn't quite apply when his best friend has been burned to shit, taking tommy's craftsmanship with it. the skin is obliterated, raw and open, and the bees are gone. tommy offers to do them again, right then and there while tubbo's still hopped up on painkillers, but tubbo just shakes his head and says maybe later.

later doesn't come for a very long time.

when he comes to tommy, back still raw and bandaged, quackity asks for his wings back. he says fuck no but changes his answer to not now when quackity crumples. a few months later, when he all but sobs at his reflection, tommy pretends not to notice.

tommy doesn't tattoo dream.

(he wishes he didn't tattoo himself then, but the smile on his wrist stares up at him, taunting)

(it had been the only thing dream allowed to heal)

he's worse at it when he gets revived back. his hands shake. he's out of practice. his lines are sloppy. he puts a lily of the valley on his calf. it looks like shit.

he does it just to know he's alive sometime, tells people he's 'practicing' when he stabs lines into his skin. it doesn't hurt him, not really, it's just-

tommy doesn't really know. he's so tired nowadays.

it's tubbo that brings him out of it in the end (it's always tubbo isn't it?). he gifts tommy a machine he made himself with new needle adapters, says it should be a lot faster now and you could do the bees again, if you want, and that's it really.

they start on tubbos sleeve that night, laughing like they're 16 again and talking, really talking. it's been so long since they've been together like this. tommy tries out his new machine on rotten flesh, gets a feel for it before he works on his best friend, his brother. as they sketch the design, the sun rises and tubbo has to run home to take care of his son (when did he get a kid?), promising to be back before long.

(tommy thinks of all the promises tubbo has broken)

(he doesn't break this one)

when he comes back, tommy pours the ink with shaking hands and tells his brother you don't have to trust me again. you can live your new life and i'll make do. i never wanted to hurt you. i didn't mean it. if this sucks it's all your fault. tubbo smiles at him, easy and understanding and says yeah, alright.

i still love you enough to stay.

the lines wobble a bit and tubbo has to take deep breaths on the tender parts because he actually does have pain receptors on that side you asshole, but he smiles as he says it. he leaves with his arm wrapped and a promise to care for his new ink, and there's a weight off tommy's chest.

to his surprise, ranboo comes to see him next, hands twisting and looking like a deer set to bolt. they ask for a crown on their left wrist. small. simple. and something that would have taken 15 minutes if they would stop teleporting away every time the needle fucking touched them.

(ranboo ends up calling tubbo to keep them still. the hand-holding and flirting is gross)

(tommy's happy for them)

tommy finishes tubbo's sleeve, and ranboo honest-to-god swoons when they see it and they're all laughing their asses off and before he knows it he's meeting their kid who's so little and looks up at tommy with his big eye and touches his tattoos gently and with so much wonder that it hurts to look at and it's too much and he bolts.

the next time tommy sees the kid (michael, his name is michael), he has marker scribbles all over himself, says like you! in toddler babble, and tommy thinks he may be able to swing an apprenticeship someday.

he sees more people after that. he thinks there's less fighting now, or maybe just less fighting directed at him. he appreciates it, either way. connor gets a sonic tramp stamp, go figure. niki comes back, asks for a lemon branch, and tommy pretends he doesn't know the meaning behind it. quackity comes in, disheveled, and quietly asks for the name Charlie over his heart. tommy does it at no charge. his eternal nuisance ranboo gets alliums and tulips winding up their arms in black and white ink, their husband holding them down all the while.

no, tommy does not cry, he is a professional.

with enough time and some very generous "anonymous" donations, tommy builds a tattoo shop, a real one with clean quartz interior and shiny new chairs and work stations. he offers his tom-toos to whoever passes by, and his portfolio grows bigger by the day. the shop is safe (tubbo's fucking nukes ensure that) and on special days, michael helps him stencil his clients.

wilbur comes in once, and tommy has the strength to say no. wil doesn't come back after that.

tommy doesn't remember when he started tattooing, but now, as he looks across the SMP and sees little pieces of him across boundary and faction lines, on friends and enemies, he thinks he'd be a fool to ever stop again.