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#jury prize
randomrichards · 4 months
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FALLEN LEAVES:
Misfits on a date
Guy looses her phone number
Search for each other
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a9saga · 8 months
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Matt really took the Josh Duhamel punishment well.
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oswincoleman · 1 year
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Here is the recording of Jenna Coleman presenting the special jury prize at the BIFA 2022 awards ceremony, to Open Door!
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JURY PRIZE - UN CERTAIN REGARD JOYLAND Saim SADIQ
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saviourkingslut · 2 years
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i know posts that are like "your writing doesn't have to be good! it's for you first! it doesn't matter if it's high art the importance is that you are putting your ideas on paper and are having fun and expressing yourself" etc etc are coming from a good place and in many cases i think they're right but also they never are bc i have crippling perfectionism that straight up makes me mentally ill and if anything activates that shit it's writing
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wttnblog · 3 months
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Sundance 2024 Award Winner Short Film Program: "The Looming", "The Masterpiece", and More
I’m back with more coverage of Sundance 2024’s short film programs! Today, I’m covering all of the award winner films since they released a specific program filled with the Special Jury winners. Obviously, all of these films are incredibly high quality—that’s how they won the award—and as an amateur film critic, it was fun to see what the professionals value in directing/film in general. This…
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eddiemuonson · 7 months
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"Unspoken Desire" - Eddie Munson x Best Friend! Female Reader
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Summary: You and Eddie made a bet and he wants you to pay it with a kiss. Turns out, kissing your best friend for losing a bet leads you into something else.
Note: I know no one asked me but I had this sudden idea of writing something quick to read.
Warning: SMUTTTTT, cursing, mention of kink, unprotected sex, kissing. +18 DNI.
Word count: ~2.1k
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and Eddie and you had decided to spend the day together at the local park. You sat on a bench, sharing a bag of potato chips as you watched kids playing on the nearby swings.
Eddie grinned mischievously and reached for the last chip in the bag. "You know, (Y/N), I've been thinking."
You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be uninterested. "Thinking? Dangerous territory, Eddie. What's on your mind?".
Eddie leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Well, I can't help but notice that you owe me something". You feigned innocence, tilting you head. "Owe you? For what, exactly?"
Eddie's eyes sparkled with amusement. "For that bet we made last week, remember?". You chuckled, recalling the bet you had made about who could eat the spiciest chili at the local food festival.
"Oh, that bet? You're not still upset about losing, are you?". Eddie's grin widened. "Upset? Nah, I just think it's time you pay up."
You crossed your arms, a playful glint in your eyes. "And what do you want as your prize, Munson?". Eddie leaned even closer, your faces almost touching.
"A kiss, (Y/N). One spicy, victorious kiss." You pretended to ponder this for a moment.
"Hmm, a kiss for a bag of chips? Seems like a fair trade". Just as you were about to share a kiss, a group of kids on the swings erupted into giggles and shouted.
"Ewww, cooties!", Eddie and you burst into laughter, pulling away from each other. Eddie winked at you, the teasing still in his eyes.
"Well, it looks like the playground jury has spoken. Next time, (Y/N), next time". You grinned back, feeling grateful for moments like these with your best friend. "You're impossible, Eddie".
As the sun began its slow descent below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue across the landscape, you and Munson decided to go home. You grabbed a ride back with him in his van, having a conversation about random things while Van Halen was playing on the radio.
As he pulled by your driveway, he turns off the engine of his vehicle as you both sat in comfortable silence for a moment, savoring the end of the afternoon.
"Once again, safe and sound", he says as he rests his elbow on the steering wheel.
"Thanks again, Eddie", you respond as you get rid of the seat belt. "Oh, by the way. Are still on that bet?", you ask teasingly. You watch as he grins at your question, letting out an amused chuckle.
"If you're still okay with that, yeah". He says as he gets rid of his own seat belt, moving his torso to have a better look at you.
Edie's hand, strong and reassuring, gently cradled your face. His thumb traced your jawline, and your eyes locked in a shared moment of understanding and longing. The air was thick with anticipation as he leaned closer, your breaths coming faster and shallower.
With a whispered promise in his eyes, Eddie closed the remaining distance. Your lips met in a slow, tantalizing kiss. It began with a feather-light touch, a delicate exploration of each other's desires. Your mouths moved in perfect harmony, a dance of passion that deepened with each passing second.
Eddie's other hand found your lower back, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified. Your bodies pressed together, as you reached out for his curls, tangling your fingers against it.
In that stolen moment, time seemed to stand still. Your kiss was a symphony of desire, a silent conversation of longing and affection. The tip of his tongue started to swirl around yours and you couldn't help but let out a small groan against his plump lips.
You felt him smirk between the kiss, as he gritted your lower lip with his teeth before finishing it. You both broke the kiss and looked at each other with a slight hint of fun, even after a moment of intimacy.
"Wow, that was actually better than I expected", Munson said, resting his forehead against yours. You laugh softly and bite your lip.
"I just happen to be a good kisser", you play along, listening to his sweet laugh as he snorted.
"And you're also very cocky", he retorts with a side smile on his face. You only then noticed how hot you felt for him and how good he actually made you feel about just a kiss. It was supposed to be a playful one, but it ended up being way more than that.
Eddie cast a glance at you, who was still holding a hard stare at him and at his plump lips. You felt a sense of connection and understanding passed between you two, as if your souls were speaking in a language only you could comprehend.
"So, you wanna come in?", you ask timidly and watch him nod, already opening the van's door before he pulled himself out. He walked around the car to reach your side of the door, opening it for you.
He was always gentle, even when you were actually mad at him for something, or even after you argue about some nonsense. You knew Munson was a whore, because he would hook up with one girl after another on the same night and still brag about it.
You were never one to really feel interested about him, but in that case, his kiss ended up setting something up inside your guts you still didn't quite figure out. You walked in, turning the lights on as he made himself home.
Before you could even lock the door from the inside, he pinned you against it, leaning in and closing the gap between you. Your lips met in a gentle, yet electrifying kiss again. This time it was quick, but still with a passionate exploration.
Eddie's hand cupped your cheek, his fingers tenderly caressing the soft skin. Your arms encircled him, pulling him closer as your bodies pressed together against the door. He didn't hold back a husky groan as he thrusted his hip against your heated core and made you whimper.
"Oh, Eddie. You're about to ruin this friendship", you whispered. Before he could respond to you, he pressed his hips firmly against yours once more and chuckled against your mouth.
"Baby, if anything we're only making it become more entertaining". It was the tone he used and the sudden pet name that threw you off, making you pull him by the collar of his shirt as you rush to the couch.
You pushed him to sit on it as you turned the stereo on before doing a little strip for him. You were never ashamed of your showing body whenever you were at the pool or something related to that, but he probably never saw you in your lingerie all those years.
He widened his chocolate brown eyes to his sight, analyzing every inch of your bare skin, like your chest, neck and stomach. He helped you unzip your jeans, lowering the fabric as you kicked it off.
His big hand and calloused fingers grabbed both your thighs with tenderness, while he spread wide kisses across your body, lingering with his touch as he felt you shiver under his lips. You didn't want your body to react to him that easily, especially because he knows the effect he has on women in general.
Eddie got rid of his shirt and worked on his jeans pretty fast, showing you a glimpse of his hardened cunt pressed against his boxer. You know what you were about to do but, even then, you didn't feel like you wouldn't regret it.
You made him rest his back against the furniture as you leaned forward and sat between his legs, both knees on each side. You were still exchanging a heated gaze and you felt like you were about to lose your damn mind just feeling the way his skin grasped your ass.
His both big veiny hands squeezed your ass while you wrapped your arms around his neck. Placing a soft, but spicy, kiss just between his earlobe.
You heard him hiss, fanning your hair in a low and desperate breath, while his hands gripped tighter on you. "Fuck's sake, stop torturing me", he pleaded, his cock twitching under your core. You chuckled before sliding one hand down his stomach, finally pulling his aching dick out of the fabric.
The red, throbbing length was already glistening with precum and you slightly squeezed it between your hands, giving him a few seconds of relieve. It turns out you weren't bothered by not taking the lingerie off as you just slid your panties to the side, before aligning yourself with his cock.
Munson was still holding a gaze at you, trying to bite his moans from coming off of his mouth, enjoying the way you were lustfully looking at him as you rubbed his tip against your folds.
You were always one to never hide your emotions through sex, you would always be too loud, moan a lot and almost faint from breathing too fast.
The way his mushroom head entered you made you arch your back, and Eddie just about did the same, throwing his head back squinting his eyes shut from the pleasure that was attacking his entire body.
You made your way down on him fully and almost choked on the size, his cock spreading your walls slightly, burning it. You leaned yourself against him and grabbed his face with both hands, bringing him closer to you so you would kiss him.
It was a sloppy kiss as you were both moaning and gasping from the pleasure. He slid one of his arm around your waist, resting his palm against your lower back, while using the other hand to unclasp your bra.
The sudden rubbing of your nipples against his chest made him pound harder and hit your sweet spot. "Fuck, why haven't we done this before?", he mumbled while gripping your skin. You started riding him faster, trying to keep your pace but you were clenching too tight around him.
"I have no idea", you slurred, trying to formulate the words coming out of your mouth. He suddenly pulled a handful of your hair and assaulted your neck, leaving sloppy kisses, glittering the skin against his teeth, making you mewl his name.
"You love it rough, huh?", he teased against your ear, his tone just above a whisper. Munson felt your cunt tightening his cock and cursed under his breath. You could feel as he was chuckling from your response.
"Y-Yes", you say, biting your bottom lip. You meet his eyes for a moment and notice they hold both lust and kindness at the same time. He could be the most sluttest slut but he definitely was gentle, especially with you.
"Holy shit, baby. You're really tight, you're ruining me", Eddie cried out, squeezing your ass between his hands as he pumped inside of you. If he kept doing that for the next minute, you're going to hit your climax in a record time.
You're in between looking at him and closing your eyes enjoying your moment, as you keep riding him, rocking your thigh against his so perfectly. He can't stop curling his toes from the sensation you're giving him, and he placed one hand on your neck, his thumb pressed against your lower lip.
He doesn't mean it to be really sexual, but as a result, you use his digit as a lollipop and it pulls him out of his own bliss as he stares at you, eyes widened and brows furrowed. It gives him motivation to thrust against your core so hard you gasp between his finger.
"Jesus fuck you're so fucking hot", Munson grunts at the sight. It makes him hornier and hungrier for you. His dick is about to explode inside you and he didn't have time to warn you about that.
It was supposed to take longer than that, but the way you were sucking on his finger and displaying an erotic figure made him burst out. "Shit", he hisses.
You feel his hips stuttering under you, his cum warming your walls and you feel lightheaded, the shockwave of pleasure hitting you so strong and so fast you throw your head back. Eddie holds you tight and feel his length throb inside you with your reaction.
You're both panting loudly, staring at each other peacefully. You're still sitting on his lap, your cunt holding him lazily. Eddie pulls you for a tender kiss, licking your lips before pecking them for a slight second.
"What were you talking about ruined friendship?", he mocked. You both just knew it wasn't ruined. You felt too comfortable around him, and he felt too cozy under you, thinking to himself about the beautiful view he was having.
"I think we should make another bet", you retorted playfully, smiling at him. He wrapped both arms around you and rolled you over your couch, standing above you with a taunting grin on his face before he pulled you in for a passionate kiss.
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ccnountche · 2 years
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Née en 1981, à Rabat au Maroc, Leïla Slimani est une écrivaine franco-marocaine, autrice de plusieurs ouvrages, dont quatre romans parus chez Gallimard. Désignée pour présider l'International Booker Prize, elle sera la première femme d’origine française à se voir honorée par ce prestigieux prix.
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scare-ard--sleigh · 2 years
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torn between cyril being deeply terrified of tom vs wanting them to have a Friendship Moment(TM) together 
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chaos-of-the-abyss · 4 months
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akio and the coffin
it’s fascinating how akio both literally IS the coffin of ohtori academy and, simultaneously, is trapped by it. ohtori academy is in many ways a manifestation of the ugly side of adolescence, of clinging on to something in your past and refusing to move forward in your life. every character has something they continue to hold on to despite the fact that they ought to let it go for the sake of growing and maturing. for example, saionji has his inferiority complex regarding touga, his refusal to let go of the simplicity of their childhood together when he felt that they stood on the same ground, and that touga saw him as an equal. everything he does in the series is an attempt to make himself feel as though he is finally on equal grounds with touga. if he would only stop tying his self-image to the perception that touga is somehow above him, that touga looks down on him, then he would be able to let go of that sense of inferiority and move on. but he can’t. juri refuses to let go of the pain she feels regarding her past with shiori, and continues to see shiori as someone who is “innocent”, albeit cruelly - someone who is unknowing of the pain she causes juri through her actions when in fact, shiori in seducing the boy she thought juri loved was deliberately acting to hurt her. if juri would only realize and accept the true intentions behind shiori’s behavior, then she could get one step closer to understanding shiori, to being understood by her, and moving past the pain of shiori’s betrayal. but she can’t. 
most of the characters, except utena and anthy of course, remain in ohtori by the end of the show. while they’ve all made progress in “maturing” thanks to the events they experienced throughout the series - both saionji and touga’s as well as juri and shiori’s relationships have gotten visibly better, as shown in the final medley of scenes - they still have more growing to do, hence why they remain in ohtori academy until their time comes. one day, the show suggests, they might also revolutionize their own worlds - their own selves - and finally leave the coffin of ohtori behind as well. 
so where does that leave akio? i think he can be said to literally be the coffin of ohtori in that he is explicitly shown to try to manipulate others into remaining stagnant, to clinging on to whatever toxic things they are struggling to process and come to terms with, though this is of course only shown via the characters he most directly interacts with. naturally it comes across most clearly with anthy, although i think utena and to a less direct extent, touga, are the other two people who are the most straightforwardly influenced by him. when it comes to anthy, she clings to her love for the person her brother used to be, the older brother who, at least as she perceived, was kind and caring and wanted to protect people. to protect that older brother, she willingly took on the hatred of the world, and continues to endure the pain of it to this day for what is implied to be centuries. but akio has shown time and time again, through the repeating dueling cycles, that if he was ever kindhearted and genuinely caring, those parts of him are gone now. i do believe he cares about anthy to an extent even now, but whatever affection he has for her is paltry in comparison to his desire to reclaim his power as prince dios. it’s for that purpose that he set up the entire dueling system, for which he freely allows duelists to treat anthy like a prize and an object. and additionally, because anthy is so integral to the power he has now in ohtori, he uses emotional, psychological, physical, and sexual abuse to keep her tied to him. he’s willing to not just let her wellbeing come last, but puts it at the bottom of the list of priorities, and actively tears it down himself for his own benefit. anthy knows all this - but because she still holds onto that love that she had for who he used to be, she stays with him and does his bidding. and that’s what akio wants. he is the coffin, wishing to keep people in their states of despair, conflict, and pain, therefore ensuring that they are compliant and vulnerable to his manipulation. 
at the same time, akio is trapped by the coffin like everyone else. he, like all the other characters, has something that he ought to move on from for his own sake as well as the sake of the people around him: his goal to reclaim his powers as prince dios. akio has failed in this goal every single dueling cycle that happened before the show’s events, and as displayed in the final episode, he definitively fails the one that takes place during the show as well. he can attempt the cycle over and over and over again, redo and tweak and modify the dueling system however many times and in whatever ways he wants - it’s all useless. there is no sword that can break open the rose gate. there is no way to reclaim his powers. they’re gone, that part of his life is over, and if he accepted that fact, it would allow him to move on and heal from what he experienced. but he can’t. at the very end of the series, right before anthy leaves ohtori for good, he’s typing away just as diligently as he ever did and, completely oblivious, tells anthy that he’s rewriting the rules of the rose crest, that he’ll be counting on her again. and i didn’t pick up on this until rewatching the episode, but it really just hits you then how utterly stupid he looks, working so hard and speaking so confidently about the upcoming dueling cycles as if any of them are ever going to matter in the slightest. i love anthy’s response to him too; i love the subtle but at the same time so blatant scorn in her words: “you really don’t know what’s happened, do you?” because once again, throughout all this, akio has learned nothing. he hasn’t realized it’s useless, what he’s trying to do; he hasn’t realized all the effort and pain and anguish he’ll cause in people for yet another dueling cycle will never make any difference. he is unable to come to terms with the reality that he will never have his powers as prince dios back. he refuses to move on. 
akio is the coffin of ohtori, wanting to keep others in stagnation and regret. he’s also trapped by the coffin, incapable of maturing past his own stagnation and regret. and it really, really says something that all of the other major characters of the show, who have been in ohtori for far shorter a time than he has, have been able to make visible strides in their growth. anthy, who is the only one comparable to akio in terms of duration at ohtori, revolutionizes her world and leaves. meanwhile akio, as deluded and self-unaware as he is, hasn’t made a single step of progress in all this time. the only thing he does is call in bewildered desperation after anthy as she finally leaves him behind, still totally clueless as to what has happened. 
tldr; i once saw an author say one of her characters represents inertia, in fact he is inertia. i think that’s a spot-on explanation of akio, at least in terms of what he symbolizes in the story. i want to beat him in the dick with a cactus
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sugar-petals · 1 year
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The Canvas (m)⎮𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚕!𝚓𝚓𝚔
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/ - CANVAS (n.) a tattoo client or professional ink model.
pairing. › dancer!jungkook + female tattoo artist!reader
❞ SUMMARY. jk serves as your canvas for a renowned LA tattoo competition. experienced in keeping it calm, you lift the trophy by giving him a full torso makeover. the prize money and glory is yours, plus his new tattoo couldn’t look any better. so, what are you gonna do with all that? 
MASTERLIST | [READ IT ON AO3]
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↳ WARNINGS/TAGS. slow burn, femdom undertones, ponytail jk, friends to lovers energy 💕, smut + slice of life, jk is buff and shy (...and a sucka for pain 😛), warning for needles obviously, profanity, jk earns money as a camboy, riding, sub-ish koo {terminology note: `skin break´ ≠ injury, but blank skin space left between ink bits}
word count. 14k
↦ CARO’S NOTE. happy 5th year blog anniversary — gotta celebrate it with a story! you will find a lot of tattoo slang and the various schools of practice in this, but it will be explained along the way. enjoy, and thank you for all the support over the years 🐯
✪ PS. in the banner you see a famous tattoo artist, miss ryan ashley and her partner. it’s just for the aesthetic 😄 the reader insert doesn’t look like this, her description is vague as always :)
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„Turns out we got actual money to blow!“
You overlook the six tied-up cash stacks on the makeshift plastic table, presented in a small iron case. In between, a massive champagne bottle: Unopened, because neither of you drinks. And, to be honest: It would not be necessary, nor pleasant in today’s oppressive heat.
The shaky nervousness from before the contest, far gone. Only adrenaline remains. And a jumping joy that makes Jungkook cover his face with both palms flat.
„I still can’t believe it!“
Since it’s his first time doing something like this, the whole event has left him increasingly weak in the knees. Jungkook really did look surprised when the results were announced in bright screen colors and the room was in absolute shambles. Standing ovations, even a couple cameras, big noise, everything.
„I know, man,“ you reply. „Wild day.“
„We did it.“
„Yeah. We can definitely be satisfied.“
You sitting down after all that maneuvering around on stage and behind it — it felt like a good way to cool off. Standing before an audience for two hours was something not to be underestimated.
Thank God there was an actual aircon back here. But still, there’s so much excess energy in your body. You can’t help but turn and turn the metal trophy in your hands, and kick your feet ever so lightly at the thought of really taking it home this time. Jungkook can’t settle on a chair at all. He’s just pacing around not knowing what to even do with his hands.
„The competition… They were so strong,“ he puffs out — the tone loaded with genuine respect rather than the much stricter attitude of discernment shared among today’s attending pros, yourself included. „They really preferred yours and not the tiger. Or the guy with the Leonardo DiCaprio portrait. That’s incredible.“
„Maybe. I think we got a better rating because yours healed so well,“ you gaze over your work again. The masterpiece of ink on him. You’re carrying a certain admitted pride in your words, but also relief. This has been one of your most ambitious tattoos in all the 15 years you’ve been in the game. It’s seriously been a journey.
In fact, the preparation cost more time and effort than inking a month’s worth of regular clients. Yes, daily practice was one thing. Competing, another. Especially with a model like that: Jungkook, whose performance had been nothing short of electric and stellar. On the ink bed, and on stage alike.
Even your fiercest opponent trying to impress the judges with their wannabe surrealistic tiger didn’t stand a chance against the level of 3D shapes and shading you created on his body. But the decision of the jury seemed close regardless, maybe for dramatic effect, so you retired backstage overjoyed. Where, and you really feel like you did his body justice, his tattoo looks just as vibrant under more crisp and cool energy-saving lamps overhead.
„Yeah, it really did heal nicely, though,“ he pats his solar plexus, almost massaging it. „It feels good.“
You bet it does. Jungkook is the type of client you would describe as— well. Very healthy.
Your mind would add some more colorful adjectives to that. But that string of thought really does stay at the back of your brain where some of your naughtier tattoo ideas reside as well. Which, and you were fine with that anyway, was certainly not the topic of today’s contest. Which rather wanted artists to show off their clean lines and some pretty harmless motifs, mind you.
Sure, the process of contests was always a little different. You didn’t care much. Some tattoo awards had the artists ink their models literally a couple hours beforehand. Others did a speed challenge on-site. Mutually nerve-wracking, but it was doable. Artists with a tight schedule did the same in their personal studios, after all. Canvasses would walk on stage with red blotchy skin all around the tattoo. This show, however, placed emphasis on longevity, the final result. To be prepared until the last detail, Jungkook had walked up in your downtown studio ten times beforehand.
As of now, a highly stylized XL rendition of Jungkook’s Doberman graced his torso. An illusion of color, created by brush strokes in ink rather than an exact replica of the polaroid pictures he had given you. Bam was a pretty cute pet dog, but also a very lively sight to see. Since you had insisted to watch Bam in motion like a live study, Jungkook brought him to the parlor more than once, which added to the hours you had spent together.
He was quite a majestic, eye-catching, streamlined dog. You had often tattooed smaller portraits of pets. Their faces usually, but not the entire animal, on a whole upper body for that matter. People usually wanted other tattoos to take precedence, like a landscape design. It took you five hours to come up with a dynamic winding pose. One that showed Bam in a slightly right-twisted bird’s eye perspective. Not in actual brown that was true to the real-life dog, but black, adding to the feel of a severe-looking brushstroke painting. Which apparently left an impression with the judges.
„And, the jury wanted enough contrast,“ you cuff your shirt on either side. „Was a good idea we went just as dark as your hair. Wouldn’t have worked as well otherwise.“
„It all fits together really well, I think. It’s become a bit, how do you say. One with me.“
Although you wouldn’t blurt that out like a preschooler, you do think so, too. Jungkook stood out among your clients as one of the cutest, with a body that was nothing short of meticulously sculpted. A waist that shocking, you’d never seen it.  Even some of the bodybuilders you had tattooed didn’t have this kind of hourglass. Perfect to pick up on some carefully planned artistry, and easy on the eye anyway. However, nothing you’d say to his face.
Yet.
Who knows. You keep your expression neutral enough when he’s around. All day, you paid special attention to maintaining a stern composure in general, given how it was such a hasty crowded event to begin with. Not that competition would always favor the stern, but it sure helped with focus.
„To be honest,“ you put the trophy onto the table now, „The judges don’t splurge their points if it’s some muddy shit. The tiger paws looked pretty washed out from some angles. Your tattoo will fucking pop in any lighting. It has to.“
Bam was as eye-catching as a tattoo as he was in real life. You paid special attention to adding enough solid black. Contrast always needed a certain amount of courage. On your side, and a client’s.
Even now, in the solely artificial lighting of this shabby backroom, the heavy blocks of extra strong ink on his ribs, sternum and stomach create a nice interplay with the shape of his upper body. Unsurprisingly, Jungkook didn’t remember to put his top back on yet. And why would he bother. It’s been piping hot in the valley districts since 9:30 AM. So hot, a couple palm trees on your way to the contest site have been looking crispy.
„That’s one of the best parts,“ he nods, all while toweling down his neck from all the sweat. The stage had burning hot overhead lights and the audience number was breaking the four digits. Stressfully enough, in terms of decibels as well. Jungkook walked offstage with you saying his ears were reeling for a solid minute. It was more than necessary to get away from all the hustle and bustle after the supposed celebration was dispersing.
„Glad you like how it turned out, then. Took a lot of risks here.“
„I, uh. Really gotta thank you though,“ Jungkook proceeds to retie his little wavy ponytail, plucking the crown and baby hairs that went astray on stage back in.
He leaves some side bangs to the front, which is what you once remarked looks the best on him with his current hair length. Little did you know he’d take this so seriously, but you haven’t seen him without a hair tie since.
„You invested so much time,“ he continues. „You couldn’t take so many other clients because of me.“
„Time doesn’t bother me that much,“ you shovel some money bands into the bulky grey rucksack you drag out from underneath your chair, then take out some bottled sparkling water instead. This backpack has been both your lifeline throughout the day. „Those weren’t the easiest sessions, that’s what I mean. But you made it through.“
„Yeah,“ he smiles. You can tell he is a bit flustered by the money.
„The other clients can honestly wait. They know I do competitions from time to time. The regulars, at least.“
A dozen people sure said they missed you. Some newbies at the studio resented you for spending your „efforts and talent on one singular canvas“, but as today’s MC of the show had said: It’s for the greater good of a career to pursue contests, and helps a tattooist to be out there. „It’s an adventure!“ was the cheesy contest tagline. Not to mention that an artist who was good enough… would meet attractive people as a `pleasant byproduct‘ as one of your fellow West Coast contestants had joked backstage.
You had rejected that mentality beforehand. Craft came first. Ironically, it was you who simply searched for the right skin, motif, and proper frame who ended up with someone attractive indeed. Those things always happen if you don’t search for it. And it was an adventure, sort of.
Jungkook didn’t exactly pass out when you moved up to the rib with your tattoo gun, but damn. He was bleeding. In essence, the first appointment turned out to be a three hour groaning session. Since he already had a complete and partially reworked sleeve, it appeared like another tattoo following many. But the second visit was so intense, it had your canvas screaming out loud at some point — albeit he stubbornly refused to take a break. `Keep going… I can handle it.´
You usually did mid-range tattoos as your specialty, but his one was gigantic and painstaking. How he muscled through that psychologically, at his tender age, you’re not sure how. After the session was done, you would hang out eating pizza in the shaded backyard of the studio, listening to pop music and talking about tattoo shows as if nothing had happened.
„You mean, it was demanding?“
„Oh yeah,“ you screw the bottle open. „Demanding is the word. I mean, count the elements. That’s almost 150 sepearate parts to fill out.“
„Right.“
„If you want a tattoo to look like a real ink stroke, you need to consider how the separate hairs of a brush would behave. The color needs to be, sorta— like disconnected. I’ve freestyled a lot of it.“
That’s also a reason why you’re sure the tiger didn’t win, and Jungkook got full points. Which surprised you more than him, something that caught you off guard in a peculiar way, even if you were endlessly happy, of course. That Jungkook was sure that you had winning potential was definitely an emotional pat on the back.
Your New York-based opponent sure did ace the Old School American style. It had some pretty memorable turquoise highlights that made the other competitor’s trendy watercolor freestyles look boring, and his canvas was beautiful. But: In your eyes, the design didn’t have an elaborate sketch behind it, and tried too hard to be East Coast.
To their demise and Jungkook’s gentle content, the judges ruled that your tattoo had 99% razor-sharp edges and a smart construction of the design: „You’ve done your studio justice.“ Because Jungkook looked promising as a canvas and he was kind as a person, you were willing to sacrifice some things to approach that level of hard perfection, even if it was `just an edgy tattoo of a random guy’s pet´ as some of your rivals had criticized you arriving on stage.
It took you three days to draw it all beforehand, and one to make a stencil that could even remotely fit on a body as curved as that. You didn’t wing it. Got creative. Stayed up. Talked a lot. Played around with the dog. Filled in every blank, and calculated every skin break to make actual sense from a distance. Jungkook had an unbreakable patience, too. Making the tattoo a big deal and taking it this far was worth the extra eye-squinting hours.
„It was fine by me. I’ll have this masterpiece for life,“ Jungkook rubs his stomach, almost as if he could caress the motif. He really does genuinely like it.
„You will. Those colors won’t fade anytime soon.“
Three weeks of successful healing time proved the durability of the tattoo and the raw diligence of preparing all this. It all went by in a hurry. The whole competition was a sequence of travel, rehearsing, check-ins, and finding some suitable lotion to oil Jungkook up with since you quickly ran out of what you brought along. He was okay with you touching him like this. Jungkook said, since you had been under his skin, being simply on it was not the slightest inconvenience.
You did over a dozen contests before. You wanted your canvas to be shining bright in front of the discerning jury. Oil would add a gleaming touch to any tattoo, and helping Jungkook apply it was more than gratifying — not just artistically. You gotta drink a big sip on that.
„Amazing,“ he continues looking down on himself, his eyes really telling how exhausting the show was, but how rewarding. The 6’3 guy who got an entire sleeve and snake motif looked like an amateur canvas next to your model. Sure, the micro tats of some other competitors weren’t exactly precise and outstanding either so it had been easy to move to the Top 10, but when a tattoo artist was talking big game, big motif, big color, they better deliver.
„So— what do we fancy for the evening,“ you wave your backpack left and right, letting the cash tumble around. „Bowling? You’d be killin’ it. Buying some clothes? Or maybe we’ll go to an expensive club. You dance on the tables, I watch random people. You know, to judge their bad tats.“
He’s laughing at that. You’re sure you’D just be watching him move at best, he’s a dancer professionally — but anyway.
You continue listing ideas, but Jungkook sort of gapes at all the options without saying anything. He’s from a modest home like you were, the big city overwhelms him, as does the fact that you won 20,000$.
„You know what,“ the bottle wanders back into your rucksack, half empty. „We probably don’t have the energy to just straight up throw some big balls at a couple bowling pins, eh.“
Jungkook laughs again.
„Guess not. Would all just land in the gutter.“
„And shopping, that’s running a marathon. Maybe we can go to the club next week. What if we just sit on my terrace and watch some clouds? Back to the roots. I always do that to get inspiration.“
Jungkook perks up. You already invited him to your house before. It was a quicker, gentler recoloring session on a pretty dull rainy morning. To make sure he was competition ready, you carefully retouched some of his existing tattoos. His oldest, dearest ones. That’s how he got to see the Grey Room. Your art atelier, so to speak. Why grey? Because you don’t smudge — and the chair will prove it. Messy tattooists won’t go far, that was your opinion. Buying a black tattoo chair was an excuse.
„Hm, why not, I mean,“ he stumbles over his words, but you can tell he’s interested.
„Okay,“ you get up from your creaky chair, collecting the rest of your stuff, and he helps you with it. „It’s a done deal. You’ll see more of the house. The food is all prepared. Like, to perfection.“
During his recoloring session, Jungkook had to catch the bus right after, plus another client, Namjoon, came in for a lengthy consultation. It was all about whether you’d be sending Namjoon to an aesthetician for a laser treatment, or try to cover up the botched crooked rose on his pecs with a bigger design to one-up your precursor, this absolute idiot of a ‚line artist specialist‘. Your ass. It’s a crime to soil a person’s skin like that. Namjoon came in completely devastated and in need for help, so Jungkook quickly left. It ended up being the latter option, you tattoed a big fat 3D bonsai tree across the rose.
You only got back to Jungkook two days later, checking how his color was healing through video chat. He had stripped down enough for you to see the progress, and you tried your best to be professional, analyzing the next steps. Which had you excited, he always recovered exceedingly well, but you were both in a busy phase. Yet, you really couldn’t complain about not having him around. This tattoo and contest was a once-in-a-lifetime two-people project. It felt like being an Italian designer, taking your flagship testimonial to fashion week.
„Food?“
„I had Yoongi handle the ice cream maker this morning,“ you put on your shades, ready to go with your backpack filled to the brim. „But don’t tell anyone, lest my house gets robbed again. Banana flavor, by the way.“
Jungkook strangely doesn’t look as happy as you thought he’d be. But then again, not so strangely. Once the needle is inside and the first drop of ink settles in, you can read a canvas’ mind. It’s a connection that cannot be explained.
„Okay,“ is the lukewarm reply. He shoulders his own cross-body bag without really checking it once. Since he forgot his tank top, you hand it to him. It takes a couple seconds to register at all.
„Something not right?“
„It’s just, I wondered,“ he fumbles with the bag’s kinda tucked-in zipper. „You have— a boyfriend? Yoongi?“
„Ah, him,“ you chuckle. „No, Yoongi is my personal chef.“
„Oh, I see, the chef. I just, um.“
Jungkook looks wildly flustered at that realization, trying to find an excuse of looking away by fixing his ponytail, and rubbing his neck. Almost as if he got caught red-handed.
„And assistant. And the one who cleans my pool. And he schedules all my clients unless I do it myself. Yoongi handles everything on demand basically, so I can do this,“ you point at the surrounding hallway after opening the backroom’s lanky door.
A big red banner reading - LOS ANGELES ANNUAL TATTOO AWARDS - stretches well across the wall, and the area seems completely swept of people.
You did spend quite a lot of time talking backstage after you gave an interview for the local press while Jungkook posed for the camera — despite his first time doing this, like a natural.
„Seems like the competition headed home already,“ is your dry comment, but you’re not that surprised. It was too warm to linger in this building complex for any longer than the show lasted. You didn’t even register how stuffy the air was since you got so carried away together, talking. Although you would have loved to talk to some of the attending experienced masters, maybe it had been a good idea to dodge the hype.
„They really did hurry home.“
„That’s what we’ll do as well. Fifty scoops for each of us. Yoongi always makes a generous amount of ice.“
„Wow, it’s really all taken care of then,“ Jungkook finally manages to stuff the tanktop back into his bag, absent-minded. He hasn’t even considered putting it on, then. He’s too busy admiring that you have such a thing as a personal assistant and cook. The two of you tread down the hallway, causing a bit of an echo.
Jungkook looks at ease learning that Yoongi is more of a janitor. You give him the side eye, which he shamefully returns with a nervous laugh.
„I figure you like banana. And walking around like Abercrombie and Fitch.“
You point at the mauve-colored tank top that’s hanging out of his bag, caught by the zipper.
„Oh, oops!“ it finally clicks with a big flinch. He’s really been half-naked all the time, and only now makes an effort to pull the crumpled little piece of clothing back on. „I didn’t notice! I think the tattoo makes me feel dressed, um.“
„Car’s gonna be piping until the A/C runs full throttle,“ you head the way to the motor park, sandals randomly clacking onto the heated concrete. „Next thing you know, you’re gonna chuck your jeans into the Malibu beach waves and don’t  even notice.“
„No, no worries. I uh, I’m back to behind the scenes mode,“ Jungkook’s giggling to himself, trying not to make it too obvious that he was quick to react.
„Took you almost half an hour,“ you say through a big grin, getting out your dangly car keys with the miniature plush bunny attached to it. Flashback to last month, Jungkook bought it for you as a thank-you present after he heard you mope about always overlooking your keys.
„Dancer thing,“ he says, sounding wildly apologetic. „I usually don’t wear that much.“
„Talk about getting naked,“ you both settle in the car, a block of heat hitting you in the faces. „You can use my shower to scrape off all that oil. There must be some kind of special cleanser I got, the one with the light green stripe on it.“
„Yeah, it’s gotten so sticky—“ Jungkook turns to check his back. „My shoulder will smudge that oil on the backrest… sorry.“
„I’ll leave the seat cleaning to Yoongi, he likes looking after the car,“ is all you can comment, kick-starting your car. What follows is the deep humming noise that the engine typically emits when the LA heat is extra crazy. „You can turn on the radio over there. It’s kind of a one-hour ride from here. You said you sing pretty well?“
The now switched-on A/C blows his tanktop around the way it wants. Maybe L.A. is cooking today because Jungkook is out here.
Rolling into your garage, you realize you’ve brought home everything: Except the champagne bottle. Fuck it, the heat in the car would have done weird things to the oh-so sparkling content, and putting it in a flash freezer at home would have resulted in a fizzy explosion that would leave Yoongi with some high ceilings to scrub. Treating yourself to some cold juice sounds much better. You have no interest acting out drunk and passed out on the floor in Jungkook’s presence. And in case an impromptu tattoo happens, alcohol is the last thing you want in his blood. The same goes for everything more than just a tattoo.
The metal trophy, which is elegantly shaped like a stencil and lighter than you thought, is more important. After parking, that one goes straight to the Grey Room award wall. You’re chugging the rest of your bottled water in one whole go. Sitting next to him had your eyes averted from the street more often than not, which in and of itself was a bad idea — but who knew a traffic jam could be a nice thing, especially if it took two hours.
Jungkook is busy otherwise. Exhausted from the black seat’s stored warmth, he exits the car moaning out loud at the heat outside. And, from a later-day sun having grilled the right-hand side of his body. Through the car window, all the way. His body is chilled from the A/C, almost freezing down the sweat on his tanktop, at least that’s what it felt like, until you noticed he was shaky and dialed it down. Jungkook is actually a little hoarse from singing his heart out. That will fade in a minute, though, he says.
While he takes that so needed shower, you dig through an absent Yoongi’s clothing rack, built into his assistant wardrobe. Since Yoongi is on the smaller side, there aren’t too many options, but you guess he’ll survive.
Feeling much better now, Jungkook winds up dangling his legs into your garden pool fifteen minutes later. That is, with extremely tight tennis shorts and otherwise nothing on, yet again. The white of the fabric might be opaque, but his thighs are big enough to let either leg ride up. Yoongi can be glad he buys so much stretch material, otherwise, those shorts would be bursting at the seams.
Unlike during the way home from today’s show, the yellow-pinkish color of the sky is finally worthy of a tattoo artist’s eyes looking at it. The white pillars of your terrace frame the outlook effortlessly like a little arcade, and the pool water feels like it has been cooling down significantly around your calves. No smog, no direct sunlight, no skylines. You’d not allow Jungkook to step even one foot in your backyard topless as he is if the sun was still high up. His tattoo had to be carefully preserved.
„I do like banana. Anything banana.“
He licks up a drop of surplus ice cream from the back of his thumb. It’s all melting in record time despite the 9 PM cool approaching. You both have to be quick. Luxury problems — at the expense of your waiting lemonade. Which you told Jungkook to feel free to pour up for the both of you during your own bathroom break some minutes ago. You changed into something even looser, put your base cap on, and the ice was already getting a little too creamy under the poolside evening glow.
„Mmh. Self-made ice cream is a whole ’nother level,“ you twist your cone. Mainly, to take off the melting edge of your scoop with the right corner of your mouth. „Cools the vocal cords, does it.“
„Seriously didn’t sing that much in a while,“ he cracks a smile, and you can tell he missed having free time like this.
„You’re not out of the loop, though. I could have taken you to America’s Got Talent and we still would have won. Hell, the Masked Singer. Dressed as a Green Raccoon. Or a fencing man. Lord knows what. You got a beautiful voice.“
Jungkook almost chokes on his ice cream at the mental image of that.
„I guess I’d rather be dancing,“ he shakes his head, „and walking around at a tat con. I’m really nervous about that one.“
„We can chill, that’s four weeks from now,“ you sip on your lemonade eventually, swallowing an ice cube that has melted down to a peanut-sized chunk. „You’ll get used to your new look by then. And everyone is out there, it’s packed. They all wanna outdo each other. We’ll blend in somewhere. Even if it’s probably not gonna be much cooler and we’ll still look like glazed donuts. We might as well leave the oil at home.“
Which didn’t sound to unrealistic. You’ve had Yoongi book the two of you for a tattoo convention display down at Hacienda Heights. Body Art Expo — one of the biggest events in the area. You could finally showcase your latest craft and meet some of your role models. This year, an influx of famous contemporary Japanese masters was guaranteed.
The overarching theme was announced to be traditional horimono craft. You’ve been dying to set up a little booth and take Jungkook with you to see the best of the best, and also flaunt his own frontal tattoo.
„Yoongi might as well park an ice cream truck for us there,“ he jokes.
„You’ll definitely need ice indeed after I go buckwild and give you a whole beginner’s hand poking treatment.“
„Hand what?“
„Hand poking,“ you laugh. „Tebori artists don’t really use automatic needles with some exceptions. It’s all done manually. You prick the skin by hand. Even the tattoo needle you have make on your own.“
„Like DIY, completely yourself?“
He got you started on one of your favorite topics. Well, well.
„Yes. It’s like a small wooden or metal stick. It has a grouping of needles fastened to it by string.“
„Oh… so that’s why— by hand.“
„Yes. And it doesn’t stop there. A machine has say, nine to 35 needles. My favorite tattoo gun has 22. Japanese traditional can go as far as 42. That’s why outlines are so difficult to do in that technique. And the gradients. Those are fucking hard. Getting a tebori  tattoo is expensive with good reason.“
„42 needles!“
„Depends. It actually bleeds less. You feel relaxed after a session. The whole thing is like. Eleven inches long, bit more. The artist has ultimate control over how deep it locks in the coloring fluid.“
„Um, yes,“ is all he can say staring.
„The artist will use a sponge to pick up the ink, and drive the stick in by hand. Hence they call it hand poke. A full-body tattoo can take a year to complete. But the color has the best saturation. The needles are thicker, you can put lots and lots of ink under the skin that way.“
Which is why you’re so interested in it. Six years plus until you’d be able to fully practice that technique on someone. It’s your goal for your later career. To have your own tattoo family, apprentices, and letting the art live on through your canvases.
Maybe settling in Japan itself to learn from the best, or remaining overseas. As long as you’d be able to hand poke a clean line like a true master and sketch properly, artfully, just as the craft demanded. Time and place wouldn’t matter.
„You said that Japanese tattoos work with woodblocks, right?“
„It’s inspired by woodblock carving art,“ you nod, pulling out your phone. Plenty of pictures to show him, over 600, if not more. You shade the display with one hand and sit closer to Jungkook, swiping through the gallery.
„The actual design is painted with soot ink beforehand,“ you keep on explaining. „Like, a phoenix. A river, with flora. Some scenes of a kabuki theatre play. Or a goddess figure, that’s pretty common.“
Jungkook does look as hooked as you are. And— as a side note: He smells damn good from the cleanser you gave him. That shower must have been thorough. You sort of don’t smell it anymore when you use it, but when it mixes with his scent, that’s a whole different thing.
„That’s so cool… Would you do that on me?“
„Jungkook,“ you raise your brows at him. „That technique takes years to learn. With a mentor— And endless copying practice of their grand pieces.“
„You even need a teacher and copy what they do? That’s crazy.“
„When we go to the fair, I might get my hands on a bamboo needle to see how it’s like to hold. But I’ll probably just stand there and watch in awe just like you.“
„Wow. We’ll really be able to see a lot there.“
Jungkook’s posture appears significantly less tensed-up now, and you know you took his nervousness about the convention by directing his mind to a new idea. That he asked you to give him a traditional-style tattoo by hand without even hesitating has left an impression, but you try not to let your face show your respect. Most canvasses would be skeptical, frightened, or completely dismissive of the technique. Jungkook is nothing short of sexy, it’s literally right next to you — but it’s his open mind that makes him interesting.
„I know, right. But you still might be lucky getting a Japanese tat from me.“
„Really?“
He almost jolts up, which makes his left thigh rub against you by accident.
„Okay, I can’t just walk up and hand carve an entire body suit into your skin. Right. But you can actually do parts of horimono with, you know, automatic needles and stuff. Many traditional studios do outlines by machine these days, and only the coloring or shades by hand.“
„They do it both?“
„Pretty much. Hybrid tebori. The art of doing precise lines by stick is recently dying out. If we use the gun instead, for everything? You can still get a goddess tattoo like an original motif. It does take practice and immense research. But it’s doable with modern machines and an excellent design.“
If you think about it, Jungkook might just be the perfect canvas to dive deeper into Japanese tattooing, even more so than you already did. Not being able to do it the manual way would irk you, but you can work with what you have.
„Any suggestions where?“ he looks across his body, traces his hands, deliberating. „I mean, it could go anywhere for me. But, I mean you should choose where it fits the best.“
You do know a perfect spot, in fact.
The slimness of his hip makes it so that an ascending motif would widen up perfectly on the shoulder area. On the other hand, the extreme curve of his spine could easily warp the design when looked at from afar, so that had to be carefully considered. It’s all a matter of adaptation. You can already see details of this next project form before your inner eye, still.
„Your back is completely virginal, so. What about that.“
„Right, of course!“
„And that’s where you find a traditional placement anyway.“
Some proper skin breaks between the shoulder blades, maybe some more grey towards the waist level, putting in more contrast across the shoulders and neck… it all starts to form in your head. Fuck, Jungkook’s neck is actually your dream target area. Front and back. The underside of his jaw as well. Peak difficulty.
A pet peeve for many of your colleagues in the field because the skin is so delicate and hard to put a design on. Many people just say fuck this shit and freehand it completely. But to you: Sweetest spot you can think of. If he’s good to go, you’ll ink him with his neck hung from the edge of your tattoo furniture one day with an extra anesthetic. Maybe some kind of animal or interlocking pattern. It’s gonna look fucking awesome.
„Would you like, actually sketch something for me?“
„Sure. Or we’ll work together with a master who will design something with ink on paper to suit your body perfectly. We still need an entry piece for next year’s tat awards.“
„But I only want your stencil,“ he finishes biting off the lower half of his ice cream cone, looking pretty disgruntled at the idea of someone else being in charge of his back. You would rather consider an expert, but you can see his point. Everything on his body should look coherent, as in one singular handwriting. And you heard it. He only wants your stencil or nothing at all.
Of course the back has to match the abs and the pecs. Only a consistent style would ensure that Jungkook’s tattoos would come together as an aesthetic whole that carried your signature, which was not just something a show jury would appreciate. It was a just because thing.
„Fine by me, it’ll just take longer. And we do color.“
Which means, more time spent in the Grey Room, where you would keep all of your treasures. The inner city studio you share with your colleague, Taehyung, who was more of a Neo Traditional and portrait enthusiast. He also did blackwork just like you. That meant the present ink supply was either batshit crazy colors and dark shades only. Hence, you set up your own extra coloring studio at home to specialize.
„Love the idea!“
„So it’s a done deal, huh. We’ll do the project in the Grey Room by then, I’m thinking.“
It needs a different atmosphere and lighting to really get the most out of the hues. And: You created this area to make a canvas open up and relax. With your technique and shading style, coloring in the big areas was always a real pain in the ass for anyone with skin that wasn’t super thick.
Taehyung’s philosophy was always to ‚paint‘ his clients in a suave and fleeting way, whereas your approach was always go hard or go home. Jungkook could handle it, and his skin was rewarding to work on when it came to recovery. You can tell he’s more than excited.
„Really, thank you for this…“
„If a couple months work sounds like fun to you, we’re gonna walk up with another 20,000€ price money next year.“
You are starting to enjoy this idea of Jungkook being a tattoo muse, sort of like the faux Greek statues and busts that you had Yoongi put up around the garden when you moved in here. A lot of tattoo artists you were friends with were inspired by the renaissance, and you could see the appeal. That Jungkook was a walking Greek aesthetic with his curls and decadent body really does fit well into your home, now that you think about it.
„I have no problem hanging out here at all,“ he’s munching, tongue in cheek. „Your house is amazing. I bring along some groceries and such when you’re too busy. If, if you want.“
„Really?“
„Long as you can sketch in peace. I like doing laundry and those things.“
„Yoongi will appreciate it. More time for cooking his latest creations. You’re already renting out his clothing, we can cut him some slack there, huh. Doing a full landscape and figure will take us twice as long as with your ribs.“
And those were already insane to do. The skin was behaving almost like paper in some bits. Only the fact that he works out decently enough has probably saved Jungkook from losing his mind then and there. His back is going to be much easier to tattoo.
„A background landscape as well? “ he drops his jaw. „This is genius… Maybe we should do it later this year, September or so.“
„Good call,“ you blink. „Gonna be a bit colder. And you’re gonna be a birthday boy. A tat’s always a nice gift to yourself.“
The reality is: Most tattoo artists would kill to secure a canvas that was so patient. It was a biased view, but Jungkook would not just be a wanted man in his dating pool (which he already is, he’s told you about a lot of concerning things in his DMs) if he graced the cover of `Inked´ magazine.
The whole ink world would come running. You already brace yourself for the storm of showing him off at Body Art Expo. He would be noticed. Today’s experience showed his potential. People found him likable and sweet, and the muscles got them going. You worried if Jungkook would have to be protected from too much attention in the community. It wouldn’t be long until you wouldn’t be alone in a cool-down room. Today’s show wasn’t the busiest, but an Expo would be. People would absolutely bother him. Rather than asking you about your tattoo journey, or anything else constructive and useful.
„I’m really getting a back tattoo,“ Jungkook is buzzing with energy, splashing around water with his feet. His voice is just fine by now, only a hint of raspy at best. The energy low of the backstage room is pretty much forgotten.
„I’ll sit myself down with some books and I’ll get back to you next month with a first  rough draft, yeah?“
„Can’t wait!“
„And after that,“ you shoot him a warning gaze more jokingly, „I’m sketching for your legs, too. Maybe with a realistic thigh tattoo. Or with some big red highlights and otherwise black only.“
„Woah! Red and black?!“
„Anything’s possible. Though, you know. Only if you want to, of course. I’m just brainstorming.“
But those thighs basically scream for ink, oh my god. You can’t even hold yourself back. Was he actually okay with that? By the looks of it, Jungkook didn’t have a single problem with you planning out his whole body’s new design.
„I have nothing against being a BLACKWORKS gallery,“ pats his thighs the most innocent way you could imagine. „I know I’m in good hands.“
BLACKWORKS was the name of your tattoo parlor, carrying with it the color you had specialized in. Ironically, setting up the Grey Room was the exact opposite, making a space to dabble in color. It was sort of the bane of your existence. One or the other, both, or alternatingly? Your sentiment changed with every larger project or every other client.
„Well, thank you. Any further questions?“
„I um… I don’t want to sound rude, but.“
„You don’t sound like it’s anything offensive, though,“ you lower your shades to squint at him.
„What are you like planning,“ he kneads his palms against each other, „I mean, with the prize money? I was, you know, just, uh curious. You always create cool projects and stuff, that’s why.“
„Oh that? We need that money for all the fucking ink you’ll be wearing!“
„Help!“ he squeals out, just as joking now.
„Seriously though. You’re gonna be my most expensive canvas. Taehyung spent a fortune finding the right pigment for all the True Black that went here,“ you point at his chest. „Only the highest quality Acrylic components in there. No metals, no allergens. No nothing.“
„Is it organic? That’s so Los Angeles,“ Jungkook giggles into his hand, trying not to make some organic this, organic that joke most probably.
„Better than having that shit in your lymph system. We don’t want that.“
„Thanks, you’re looking out for me.“
No toxins for your canvasses. And nothing you don’t know the effects of. More clients gotta get some education about this.
„Just duty. And LA sucks, I don’t care. Cheers.“
For the last sip of lemonade, you toast, and Jungkook reiterates that he’s feeling very much in safe hands — especially now that you offered him a sofa place to sleep on.
It’s really too late to drive him home. The highway ride would take ages, the traffic is even more terrible at this hour. Returning at like 2 or 3 AM would set you up for a lackluster sleep routine. He’s living alone in his flat so there’s nobody to inform, he’s not urgently missed and needed for something. That there’s no one waiting for him always surprises you.
That Jungkook is his own best roommate and doesn’t cohabit with his parents, all in a decently well-off part of the city on top of that — not the most flashy one, cozier, but still — tells you that he must dance pretty damn well and knows how to live life. He probably thinks the same about you anyway, although he keeps on saying you work too much for your own good, which might have a grain of truth.
You do wish you lived a bit like him. Then again, you’re well aware he has a hard time sometimes. Going by pictures he showed you, the flat he has isn’t a bad one at all. You don’t charge him for the tattoos, obviously. They’re competitive entries based on your decisions, not commissioned pieces. He offered pay, but you rejected the eight hundred bucks.
On a day where he let his guard down after three hours of conversation, Jungkook told you he’s selling his pics and videos between otherwise casual sentences. That was about two month ago. He didn’t say what pics and what videos, but you were beginning to connect the dots.
All the signs, they were there. The way he undressed, the way he was aware of how he came across, the way he was so photogenic. You worked extra hard on getting the clarity of the tattoo right. It’s one thing to look at black ink pigments in daylight or below the artificial lighting of a studio, but on camera, it’s absolutely a different thing.
Why he opened up to you, you don’t know. It was inconsequential. He didn’t mention it again, and it didn’t look like he was observing your reaction to it.
There was no telling what his shy tone of voice was supposed to say, or his intent, and you guess it all had many meanings at once. Maybe he just said it to say it. To get something off his chest. Jungkook often hesitated to vent, but he was honest telling you that. If anything — he trusted you enough to do so.  
„I’ll just give you one of these at this point,“ you weed through your closet, pulling drawers, checking metal hangers. Eventually, Jungkook catches a white sporty tee that you’re tossing him, and lays down on the white king-size couch in the center of the living room. 11 PM. Sunday tomorrow. None of you caught a heat stroke. You’re both not that tired yet. There might as well be something left to do. So… Well.
„Have a good night’s sleep then,“ Jungkook smiles, already half settled— about to put on the shirt. You gotta stop him in this tracks somehow before he’s dressed again.
„Maybe it’s still time for a little treat,“ you say, wiggling your eyebrows at him, which he reciprocates with unbridled surprise.
„Did Yoongi put some other desert in the fridge, or—“
You shake your head.
„No, no. Something else. Actually, way else. Wait here, Jungkook.“
„O.k.?“
„Heading back in just a minute,“ you turn your head across your shoulder. „Look at my drawings on the wall or something.“
He does, gazing around the spacious room that is actually pretty bright and light at this hour. The team that did the electrics in here were absolute top tier in their field, although the house did not pass as 100% interior art. Rather, the tall walls were clad in big unfinished pen sketches and other blackwork ideas behind frames, mostly showing anatomical poses and various animals from all around the globe. Looking up, Jungkook got lost in a painting that showed a distorted self-portrait of you while drawing something on a table. Art of the artist doing art.
„You need to get yourself some of this,“ you interrupt, posturing yourself in the doorframe upon returning. Jungkook’s head twists in record time. His confusion is more than visible all across his face reacting to what you’re holding up with your right hand.
„Is that… Is that— Lubricant!“
Someone looks pretty damn flustered right now and it’s not you.
„Oh my god Jungkook,“ you shuffle closer to the sofa, thoroughly amused. „Actually read what’s on this tube. Here.“
You hand the mysterious black item to a very panicked mess of a weekend guest.
„Aftercare cream?!“
„Read on.“
„…for protecting tattoos.“
He just looks mighty exasperated now. Oh Jesus.
„Come on. It’s not some kind of after-bondage ointment,“ you laugh. „Just plain ole tattoo balm, okay. Nothing BDSM going on here.“
„Yeah… Yeah.“
„The whole thing’s pretty much a vibrancy serum, healing cream, moisturizing lotion, et cetera. All in one. That is considered a treat in my book. Treat as in skin treatment.“
„I uh, should have figured.“
Jungkook’s knee-jerk reaction has him crouching together in a gullible pose on the sofa, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. Broke a sweat for a minute there, did he.
„Your tattoo had a lot of stuff going on today. Oil and sun and sweat and chlorine, too. We’re not gonna let it rest unprotected tonight. There’s some regeneration it has to do.“
As per the contest rules, tattoos need to be fully healed to enter anyway, so today he’s not been freshly inked under the UV rays outside. But it’s still better to apply cream to support the tattoo as it is. And exposing Jungkook’s dirty mind for the sheer fun of it.
„Am a bit of a dummy,“ he hands the lotion back to you.
„The clean air around here has you wearing tennis shorts… and your mind in the gutter, does it,“ you snap the tube open, squeezing a generous double dime-size amount into your palm. It’s not like you didn’t check him out all day. Two minds in the gutter? That’s twice the fun.
„Sorry.“
„Don’t be. Now let me work it in, I’ll do that for you. The shirt needs to wait for another minute again. Fine by you?“
„Okay!“
„Then relax. It needs to be spread out properly.“
Running your hands across one’s favorite canvas should be considered a therapeutic method for any tattoo artist out there. You need to listen to a lot of shit, discuss a lot of shit, compete against a lot of shit, and draw a lot of even more shitty shit. It’s only fair you get to enjoy the silver lining as well. Savoring what you all do it for: Enjoying the aesthetic and the feel of the skin.
Jungkook is as pliant as ever accepting the treatment, and the balm does what it’s supposed to do. Seeping in, refreshing the skin, cooling it off. You knead his body in broad strokes of your palms, making sure the coverage is even. The tattoo again proves its bold winning ways shining bright even under the low ceiling lamp, and you again congratulate each other. No scabs at all, and the whole jury convinced. You beat a tiger, the watercolor dudes, tiny tat mania, Leonardo DiCaprio, and the tall snake bloke. The result was a memorable rendition of a pet dog that your client could not get enough of. What more could you really ask for.
 Jungkook visibly hums under your touch and seems to react with cozy noises having his sides massaged. You’re careful with the ribs, his sensitive area. You’re totally not lingering on the pecs for a little longer. Your mind revolves around the thought of sitting down on his thighs to unpack the real treat and finally ride out your craving.
„What if we,“ you start, „You know. Actually use some lubricant. Here on this sofa.“
„Huh—? Really? In a way that…“
Jungkook awakes from his half-slumber that your hands had so calmly induced. In fact, he goes from sleeping beauty to wide alert in two seconds, propping himself up from the sofa cushions. To meet you face to face — he’s incredulous. Well, you aren’t exactly feeling coherent either, which surprises you, too.
„Sure! I mean. If you want to. There’s some of it in the other room that I can fetch. I figured we might. Just for fun, and… We know each other for a while now. To me it would be nice. Nothing fancy, just. We just do our thing if we like it. I’m still your tattooist. I wished we could sleep with each other at some point. I didn’t say anything because we had to focus on competing. Sorry for that.“
„Please, please don’t.“
„I preferred to make it about work until we sat at the pool today. If we’re fucking… It should be a comfortable moment where we really got to know each other already. You were pretty shy. So I was careful, right, although I’ve been teasing you anyway, I don’t know what you thought about that, if that was funny or not. But you know, the heat of the moment.“
„Don’t worry, I liked it.“
„I also didn’t want to make it look like I was trying to get in your videos for money or just because you do them, or mess with your personal business. I know this is a separate thing. So I was more, uh, asking casually. With the conventions and our projects, I want nothing to change there.“
„No, of course.“
„If we make this a big deal, I thought it would be risky. When I ask you this, there’s always the chance that it gets weird, people are being particular and act different when getting intimate like that, no matter if the night is good or bad or boring. But to me, I thought, after all our sessions being the way they were we had a body feeling for each other that was more progressed than just having sex. And I was curious how it would be naked, how we’d be catching up. Because you’re really hot to me… I really want to be on top of you. I waited so long to say this. God, fuck, Jungkook.“
„Yes.“
„Hm?“
„Yes, I want to. I’ve… been thinking about it as well.“
It’s a bashful confession that comes with a lot of baggage off his shoulders, you can tell. This all has been simmering underneath the surface. At least you managed to spill it all out yourself. Drawing a 3D face was infinitely easier, tattooing an inner fucking lip was easier. But now he was in the know, if he wasn’t before.
„Makes two of us,“ you twirl at his curly bangs with one digit finger. „Should I get it? And some other stuff. So we’re safe.“
„I, I have some protection in my bag,“ Jungkook goes on stumbling over his words, clearly not prepared for you touching his hair so playfully. „Just a minute. It’s upstairs. In the shower.“
Standing up, you both separate ways with telling, loaded glances. Jungkook couldn’t climb the stairs any faster, his expression is so sheepish. You really fucking did it. You asked and he said yes. Damn, hell yeah.
Walking into your dark bedroom, you pick up a non-fragrant wet wipe to clean your hands from any tat cream residue, although you’ve really worked it into him. Every last corner of his torso. The sleeve as well.
You constantly taught him how to take care of his arm and the other tattoos, but this was a new one. Jungkook will keep the healing cream, you’ll gift it to him. It’s high-priced stuff, but why’d you care. Your home tresor now holds a whopping 20,000$ in cash, and you can topple into your bed happy and content after knowing you own the L.A. tattoo scene as of today.
Jeon Jungkook, he was truly a standout client. Picking up the bottle of lube from underneath your bed, you couldn’t believe you just make the step to breach the professional, invisible wall of being artist and canvas. The excitement gave you a nice gut feeling that was similar to walking up at the show’s venue this morning. You’d have him on the couch, you’d get some fucking dick tonight, no sketching, no planning, no phone calls, no nothing.
You bring a large towel that Jungkook puts under his back and legs, protecting the sofa. Two water bottles, too, there he goes. Although you don’t want this to be the most sweaty exercise of all time, you both have to stay hydrated. After such a stuffy long day, anyhow.
He looks hot chugging it down up to the half-a-litre mark, and you drink from your own bottle with one hand pulling down your pants to the knees. He helps you remove them across your ankles, and he leaves two little kisses on your lower shins. It’s the first time feeling his lips are on you, and it’s a peck just as unique as you thought it would be.
When you hook your index fingers at the top of his shorts, you notice that Jungkook already fitted a blue condom inside his pants.
He didn’t want to do it in front of you and make it awkward, or expect you to touch him just for practicality first rather than touching him for sensuality first. Obviously it could be hot rolling it down on a guy, feeling up what would be inside of you, the whole girth. But safe to say he knew what he was doing. Jungkook didn’t want to compromise you. With all your thoughts that you had, that was a subtle act of reassuring.
Since you brought along the lubricant, you could still get to enjoy having your hand wrapped around him, spreading the heavy liquid rather liberally, feeling it melt around him. You wiped your hand on the towel and climbed up to his lap while Jungkook was kicking off his pants with a hip-to-knee coordination that you haven’t seen yet.
It dawns on you. How could you forget what he usually does. He wasn’t just a dancer by profession, but at heart. Those things were hard to suppress or not do. Just like you couldn’t look at Jungkook without feeling inspired to create tattoos. Which, and you couldn’t lie to yourself, his bare skin was desperately begging for, it was so inviting. You already saw him more than scantily clad, but with his shorts down, his waist and hip showed themselves in their best light. You loved his body shape.
And damn, it felt so good to finally be naked in that summer evening heat, feeling the A/C lightly tickle up your spine and neck from behind. It cooled down your back just right, and you chucked away your underwear for it not to lay around on the sofa. Although the lube was more than enough to go by, you gathered some saliva in your mouth to spit on his dick. It made him twitch and moan, „Yes please.“
There was no need for any aperitif, you weren’t in the mood to go through any foreplay. Jungkook looked delicious enough to have you on edge, and the lubricant would do the rest to make him gliding inside even smoother. You squatted over him and aligned yourself, got comfortable in stabilizing your legs this way.
Jungkook closed his eyes and only looked when the tip was way in, approaching the mid-length of his cock squeezing inside of you. Of course you were still a little tight, but some positioning would change the angle for the better. Jungkook asked if he could use his hands and got green lights from you. Judging by how they were slightly dry on your skin and the scent they had, Jungkook soaped them down when he was picking up his cross-body bag from the bathroom some minutes ago. Everything by the book.
One on your hip, the other playing with your clit, you began to realize just how good he was with his beautiful fingers. It wasn’t just you having the manual skills in this relationship. He was remarkably cautious and had concentrated eyes. So far, you enjoyed that Jungkook was more observing rather than staring, and had such a nice ring to his moaning voice as if he was a singer.
From your perspective, seeing his tattoed fingers curl between your labia and his tight chest muscles moving right along made you crave more cock inside. It slid in almost naturally with the stimulation that came from his fingertips. Jungkook’s voice went right along with it, describing in sounds rather than words what the situation was like.
„That’s really good, stay in that spot,“ you told him, and added a slight up and down to your movement on his dick. Only a slight drag on his shaft made it harder to push him inside further, but that was likely because he had been growing in size a little more.
Learning how to tattoo meant studying some architecture as well to be able to pull it off, and in your case, you soaked up all historic Greek building styles there everywhere. If you were to describe Jungkook as a column, it would be Doric. Full in the middle, definitely not Corinthian in length, actually more Roman Tuscan which was full and convex with a slender, triangular tip that extended toward a nice curving girth the further down you went to the middle.
„So pretty. Your dick feels good.“
„I really hoped you’d like it.“
Meanwhile, he had less circumference at the base. Which you found pleasing to the eye, and pleasing when you sunk down on him fully. That meant squeezing down some lube which would squirt on his balls and made your labia extra slick and juicy, stretching on the sides of his shaft like soaked little lips.
A bit would splatter to the side and smear across the lower side of your ass. It pulled threads when you were reaching the lowest point of your bounce, which alerted Jungkook’s usually waist-bound hand. He had noticed that you felt discomfort with it and wiped it flat to the side in one go.
To your surprise, he gently licked across the sides of his fingers to clean it up. Jungkook licking his tattoos had to be something you didn’t know you needed and one of the top five things happening today. The innocence but quick efficiency with which he did it, priceless. He didn’t stick out his tongue that much, just a decent fourth of it. His calm and naughtiness spoke of low performance anxiety, which you attributed to him being camera-savvy, doing his solo videos.
Still, going balls deep had Jungkook whimpering through his teeth with his eyes closed again, an immense tension spread across his face. Even his left hand on your clit briefly stopped. He had to accommodate to being inside, so you wouldn’t go on moving until his features would relax a little more and he sighed out. It was all fully in the moment and you loved to continue moving up once he was okay again.
Jungkook and you were comfortable with one position for now. In your head, you have a thousand things just like a full-body tattoo would look like, but in reality, you can only ink one thing at a time. Perfecting his little quickie would pay off much more than bending each other around. He had been hectic enough going up the stairs, he had been nervous and confused all day. You had so many ups and downs of adrenaline yourself. This had to be deliberate.
Although you told him he didn’t have to if he couldn’t do it, you found yourself asking Jungkook to give you some understated hip work. Just to begin meeting you halfway, to press his balls against you softly, to create some more lewd noises — and to see his whole body go like clockwork so you would see his tattoos dance above his muscles.
Since he observed you well, Jungkook amped up the stimulation enough for you to feel your pleasure starting to build up fast like a coil waiting to be undone, at its very peak of feel-good. The thought of having a climax right on his dick was spurring you to move, chasing the high and needing the smack of your ass against the jerk of his desperate thighs.
„Keep going… I can handle it!“
Jungkook sounded like he was about to cry, which told you he must have cum inside the condom. Hell, he was moaning so passionately, it could have been at any point in time. Going by his usual policy, he didn’t want to put pressure on you or mess up your own timing. He left you to do your own thing, just like you said you wanted. Lord knows he might have popped a pill in the bathroom to keep his dick up for long enough.
All you knew was, the suction created by you riding him very roughly at a high pace kept him erect, leaving you space to cum on his sloppy dick before Jungkook would enter a post-sex delirium. It was sudden and left you clenching up, heart rate thumping and a huge wave of release making the round through your torso. You squeezed him tight, he reacted by slowing his waist down. That way, you could savor the orgasm without disturbance, and leave your eyes shut for a moment. Jungkook helped you go from squatting on the heels of your feet to the knees, coming much closer to him now and leaving him buried deep.
„Fuck, so good!“ you plant your hands on either of his shoulders, cooling down. The A/C continues to release a calm stream of air into the room, which is deeply needed. You can’t believe it’s already happened. Or, how fast it could happen once you asked this way. He gave himself away freely without expectations, Jungkook went along like a champ.
You stay seated this way for a long time. Relaxing. Up until you both have normal breaths, up until your sleep hormones are kicking in. You glide off his dick with Jungkook’s help, him kissing the inside of your thigh while you lift it across his face.
Jungkook insists to stay on the couch, he doesn’t want to move or just come along to the bedroom he’s never been in out of nowhere. He mumbles that he’ll somehow get himself to the bathroom in ten minutes, it’s okay, he doesn’t want aftercare just more to drink. And a little snack from the fridge, maybe.
He cleans you up with love and care, then discards the more than ruined condom that had to endure being soaked from either side, outside, inside. It didn’t rip, but it looks as mushy as it gets. You really fucked the shit out of him. Everything wet and full of lube. Although it looked messy, it didn’t feel like it. Jungkook was effortlessly good in bed and immediately grasped what you wanted. The fully wet condom was a mere testament.
Seeing just how drenched and mixed up everything was, though, Jungkook points to his bag, you pull out a flat paper box.
„Yeah, just to be sure,“ you nod and pop the contents on your tongue, downing the little pill with a bunch of water. Jungkook probably made the cutest babies ever, but your whole stomach was your former first teacher Boa freestyling the absolute madness of an impeccably scaled dragon in every available color that was your lucky charm, so that wasn’t happening.
Where stretch marks would mean a ruptured masterpiece, a whole C-section would give you a thousand years of bad luck for chopping off the dragon’s feet. It would be an aesthetic crime for someone aspiring to perfection, and you wouldn’t want to draw the wrath of Boa for the sake of a kid you had zero time for to begin with.
Come to think of it. Your conservative neighborhood would probably call the cops if they learned about how the eccentric tattoo artist raving about ‚hand poking‘ and homoerotic Greek culture all day had a lovechild with the Doberman chest guy whose main source of income was shaking his ass into a camera.
So — Jungkook himself was more than just prepared. Even if he didn’t look nor act like it, he had his sex life together. Hacks, contraception, technique, hitting perfect pitch on his moans, everything. This guy was a professional in a way that you would tattoo abstract art. You admit to yourself that you tasted blood despite 85% of California men not doing it for you, and that included the majority of model canvasses. Jungkook had something completely unoffensive and pleasing about him. Something intricately submissive that was worth exploring.
Even if he came too early, he didn’t complain about it or give himself a hard time, or get in your way with it. If anything, it let you know that Jungkook liked what you did. You felt complimented that he reached his climax so easily with you, though you have to ask why he wanted to remain in the living room when your bed was much less improvised than the couch.
„Not making it a big deal,“ he says, smiling a little at you. „Nothing much changes. You’re my tattooist.“
And he’s right. He would have slept here if you didn’t fuck. The couch is big and comfortable, anyway.
While you get dressed in the bedroom, you hear him sneak upstairs. Using the tap, and you hear the clothing dryer being switched off.
You’re already tucked in when a little „thank you for todays session 🐰“ text lights up on your phone screen, followed by „and congratulations 🎊“. You reply with a „right back at you“ and call it a day, recounting today’s events in your head with an excited feeling. Good one. You even forgot you actually had a phone. Today felt like the longest 24 hours of this year.
Jungkook gets comfortable with a cold drink on the living room table next to him. Even if he’s not getting the hang of this house yet, that’ll do. He’s closing his eyes at some point. Everything that’s happened feels like it’s locked into his body. Big show, big lights, photoshoots, karaoke, brainstorming for the future. The two of you need some well-deserved rest tonight. He’s not going anywhere, and you’re not going anywhere.
The heat of the summer nights in this part of the town is reliably stable. Still, you left him the shirt in case he still needs it. Yoongi will take care of breakfast before either of you wake up tomorrow, and the kitchen will be clean as day. A nice thought to hold onto, as well as the confetti raining down on stage. And that fact that you just hooked up.
„Rise and shine my queen,“ resounds the upbeat voice of Yoongi. You always twist around under the duvet for a solid minute, then realize every time that it’s just your phone alarm sounding off like that. On a grumpy day, you once told Yoongi to record something that will get you out of bed, and this was the result. By the time you’re waking up, though, your house is all prepared. Yoongi took off for errands already.
After handing Jungkook an illustrative traditional tattoo book from your little house library to get a feel for possible designs, you sit down together. At the kitchen counter-turned-bar-turned-breakfast-table, Jungkook is fresh out the shower in a bathing gown he found nearby. Again — a garment way too short for someone with tempting legs like that.
On him, it’s basically a mini wrap dress. Not to mention the cleavage, where his tattoo is boldly peeking. Crisp edges, deep color, the black consistent. Not to brag, but you want to pat yourself on the shoulder for that job. It looks just as scrumptious as the little buffet that awaits the two of you.
„How’d Yoongi react to the tennis pants on you?“
„No idea,“ Jungkook ruffles his hair, damp and strongly curling. „Probably didn’t even register that it was his clothing at first. I was sleeping anyway when he arrived.“
„Right, he comes in around 5:50,“ you pick up a brimming sandwich, stacked with lettuce, bell pepper, and extra-layered vegan cheese. „You just saw him leave or so, right.“
„We said hi for like ten minutes when I woke up,“ Jungkook gets busy putting cherry jam on a croissant, „and he congratulated us.“
„I sent him a link to the interview we did after the competition.“
Your group chat is just a cat picture, event info, and meme dump at this point, this was one of the more serious entries. You know Yoongi for too long.
„Then I asked if he also got tattoos from you,“ he stirs his tea, and a little smile rises. Of course he had to ask that. Yoongi was plastered in freestyle 3D tattoos and song lyrics. „Then he told the story about how he started working here. So that was hilarious.“
„Abbreviated, though.“
„Abbreviated?“
“Yoongi never tells the full version where he freeloaded getting a portrait of Holly on his underarm. He didn’t have the cash, but we were college friends. I almost fell for the trick when he wanted a matching one for his girlfriend. As an exchange, he was cooking here for a week. I ended up hiring him, he’s really good at those things.“
„I was still so tired, I think I didn’t quite pay attention to the story anyway,“ Jungkook laughs. „After he showed me his knuckle designs up close, I was thinking about how I got my own.“
„Hand tats are different gravy,“ you fill up an empty glass with extra orange juice, one eye still in Jungkook’s cleavage. „Probably ’cause you see ’em all day.“
You think he does notice your gaze tracing his body. But you never know when Jungkook is terribly shy or ready to flirt the house down when he does that one wide-eyed expression.
„And then Yoongi said, I should just put on his stretchy sweatpants from the lowest drawer? I didn’t really know where that was.“
„Oh right, he doesn’t use that drawer anymore. That chapter is closed.“
„Anymore?“
„Yoongi stopped playing golf. He had his shoulder messed up in an accident.“
„Oh no…“
„Five years ago, I think. He got hit by a delivery car a mile up the lane. Never fully recovered.“
„Ouch…“
„So all that golf stuff is unused. Might as well steal a polo shirt and socks from there as well. Down the hallway, last door to the left. I make sure nobody eats your croissant in the meantime.“
He’s giggling. Golf clothes, it is. The morning is significantly cooler, you can feel it in your bones. A welcome refresher.
„Sucks. Sorry about Yoongi’s injury,“ Jungkook gets up, which loosens his belt a little too much. The bathroom gown really is falling apart left and right. You can see his thigh exposed, all the way up to the right hip. Your dear guest tries to hold everything in place shamefully with two hands, then pulls the belt now twice as tight. „Down the hallway, last door, left, correct…?“
„Yup.“
Off he goes with bouncing hair. You browse through the tattoo book while obliterating your sandwich, shifting your brain back into business mode. Shit, why’d he pick that short fucking gown instead of a regular damn towel.
In the assorted picture part of the later chapters, you find some beautiful ornaments that would literally, and you can tell right away, work so well as a frame for his back tat. Some almost naturalistic shapes, and either clouds or wind on top. Maybe even both, most deity figures in the book had several elements surrounding them. A playground for anyone who knows what they’re doing. The sketch was going to be fun to make, and interesting once it came to application.
You already put in an extra hour for Namjoon’s bonsai cover-up. Jungkook’s September appointment would be twice as intricate and dynamic. Because of the sheer overwhelming size, anyway, and Jungkook’s body shape presenting the challenge of tweaking the design’s perspective. Now that you’ve seen him stripped down all the way — maybe you do have a better understanding of him even more so.
You shiver at the thought of an unskilled tattoo artist ruining a beautiful physique like that, especially across such a large area. Thank God Taehyung sent him to you after realizing that ‚suave and fleeting‘ was clearly not what Jungkook was looking and suited for. JK’s first tattoo had been a simple refresh of some letterings on his sleeve, and the heart on his hand. A month later, he was ringing you up again.
„I think you’re the one. I have a shoulder bit that needs a touch-up. And maybe… you have an idea for the right underarm.“
What surprised you, Jungkook has never been the one choosing the tattoos. He quite liberally had you picking it all— and even without his request, you’ve now been coming up with motives to add on.
Laid-back as he is, „you do you, all access“ is all he thinks about that. Jungkook does an impromptu trust fall into your tattooing chair every time. To be honest, you could never. Boa was the only one you’d confide in like that because she knew what your taste was like and had the best technique you knew. When she told you that she’ll be moving to San Francisco and you were ready to open up your own parlor, that your 5-year education was complete, you cried, it was the best and worst day of your life. Maybe, she’ll be hosting at the next convention.
The road to San Francisco was a 6-hour drive, you do see her every other month at least. Hanging out at her own gigantic studio was one of the best things to do on the weekends. But it sometimes feels like she’s missing in presence and advice, still. Hell, you text Boa almost every day. You like all her Instagram posts, she sends you almost every larger tattoo or notable smaller ones she did on clients, so you could study the way she did it.
Just when you ended a session contouring Bam’s ears and eyes and paws, Jungkook once met your former mentor when she dropped by on a Friday evening at BLACKWORKS. Boa was depositing some ink and needles that she didn’t need, and she said well, maybe you could those try out if they work for you. However, she refused to give you any counsel. Boa insisted you had to figure out Jungkook for yourself and own up to that. Knowing her, Boa was always 90% right about the things she said.
So, all else aside, she would be the only person you’d allow making a surprise design on you. But anyone else? You’d tell your tattooist when and how and why to fucking move the needle one split inch to the left and to the right, even if they were tattooing your back and you couldn’t see a thing. In your deepest sleep, you could feel and hear and smell an idiot not filling out a corner properly.
You’d tell them exactly when to switch colors, disinfect their tools on your own, and not allow a single deviation from the stencil. Or else you’d instigate a general lawsuit to shut down their studio, good riddance. And Jungkook was the precise opposite of that.
Switching colors? He didn’t even care about those things. It was all about lying down and letting it happen instead. Taehyung once remarked to you over a very strong coffee: „He’d still think you’re cool if you ruined him entirely“.
The vast majority of your clients would rather give you their idea and you execute it for them. Point blank. Modify it at best. Maybe correct it a lot or give a second choice of the same aesthetic. Say, you’ve had this lady Hyuna come over, she wanted a cute teddy bear, but the area on the leg was better suited for an elongated cotton candy motif, so you both went with that and put the teddy bear on her shoulder blade and her husband got the same one later.
But you never got someone begging for you to decide it all to the last millimeter. Not even the canvases that flirted with seasoned contestants at the show were ready to surrender their skin this way. If someone wanted to kiss their tattooists’ ass? They’d rather spill out the most dramatic speech of praise on their work. At this point, you’re sure Jungkook likes you in a way you don’t yet understand, or never experienced.
Even the most trusting veteran clients of yours wouldn’t act like he would, and even canvasses of absolute genius tattooists would come to the revered maestros with their own suggestions and some big no-gos. Jungkook’s `do what you want, and only you can touch my body´ attitude has almost made even Taehyung’s eyes fall out. And Taehyung’s seen a lot of unhinged clients over the span of his career.  
It was quite obvious to you that he’d be your award show canvas for more than just one gig. He had the kind of enthusiasm and an empty space on his legs and back. His dance background had also given him the gift of even subconsciously presenting himself well in front of crowds because of his posture and way of walking.
In a way, you were almost too happy that Jungkook came back for more now, and he was trusting. You’d reward him with poker straight edges and extra time for creativity. For some reason, you were biased, and that already happened way before you slept together. Jungkook would spend the birthday of his lifetime getting his back tattoo.
While you ponder, there’s some noise from the other side of the house, and he’s returning.
„Did he mean those?“ a little question poses from the entrance of the hallway, and it’s Jungkook standing in the frame all dressed up.
„Sporty!“
„Yeah—“
„Can you still feel your circulation or not?“
„I needed to try several socks until it felt comfortable,“ he giggles, in typical manner, and does a little spin for fun.
Even though you’ve seen Jungkook’s naked back a thousand times in your studio, in fact you know every hair of peach fuzz on it, you’re carefully surveying it now more than ever, painting a tattoo across the bones and muscles with your eyes. Maybe his ass was next in line after the thighs, by the way. You’d run out of conventional space anyway.
„And I always thought Yoongi’s feet were pretty large. Turns out yours are bigger than his?“
„I can’t really explain it either, maybe the socks ended up in the dryer somehow?“
Yoongi really is quite a bit smaller than Jungkook. Formerly just a normal fitting piece, the polo top is pretty much a muscle shirt now. Preppy fashion runway? No, he can make your house look like a gym outfitter. The light-colored pants — it’s obvious he’s not wearing anything underneath. That silly riffled waistband is holding on to dear life. He couldn’t even tie a ribbon with the strings.
„Turn this place into a laundrette, I don’t mind. I’ll leave you in charge of the washing machine next time. Yoongi bought enough fabric softener last Wednesday.“
„I saw! Cotton candy flavor.“
He might as well be a tailor, too. Most of the clothing construction threatens to fall apart at the widest point of his thighs, at least the slender calves fit in these pants. But: It stretches, and he’s got something on.
You drop your empty juice glass into the sink, alongside your plate and sandwich knife. Your wink is far from unsettling to him.
Jungkook doesn’t want to wait until Yoongi returns to take care of the dishes. He also hand-washes his clothing from yesterday in the sink. It’s funny seeing it hang and sway dry outside, but the approaching sunshine heat promises that he’ll be good to go soon enough: With proper underwear.
For the time being, you pour some water into the fridge’s icemaker and give Jungkook a house tour. There’s finally someone you can play table football with. On the first floor, where you arranged your luxury woman cave five thousand. Yoongi could only play the defense with one arm, so you had to rely on random color tattoo clients being down to square up against your national team after a consultation. It was more fun to play with a friend.
Powered by his now-tied ponytail, Jungkook is actually too good to play against, which you notice being five-nil behind. Regardless, you `magically´ recover at seven-nine, right after he whines how a stray lash keeps poking in his eye.
There is no stray lash to be found when you check up close, but you still enjoy looking in his eyes. Jungkook was definitely blessed with some of the most reassuring bambi-like eyes. That deep reflective hazel tone looks better than any pricey brown ink of yours ever could.
Nature, after all, is the best tattooist.
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read it on ao3
[dom!reader MASTERLIST] 
note. thank you for reading to the end <3 i hope i got you dreaming of back/chest tattoos for jk now 😂 i love this topic, it was really intricate to write and i hope you enjoyed!
© 2017-2022 sugar-petals. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. all depictions are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.
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hedgehog-moss · 2 years
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Some pics from a cheese contest that took place at the village yesterday :) The cows responsible for the cheese were invited and had their own contests on the side, with a little podium for cows constructed out of hay bales. When Licorice the cow won a prize, the little girl that was leading her climbed on the makeshift podium proudly but hesitantly (“is that thing stable....?”)—meanwhile Licorice was rushing her, like let me climb up there! I won! It was so cute.
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There were buffets where you could blind-taste dozens of different cheeses, a separate contest for cheese pastries, and a mini-street market outside where among other things local farmers were selling their cheeses in little cardboard cones like French fries.
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The librarian’s husband told me he had been selected as jury member for one of the cheese pastry competitions and had to taste 24 different pastries over the course of the morning. He got to take the 3rd prize winning pastry home and then gave me a big slice of it (“for your dinner”) as he did not intend to eat cheese again in any configuration for at least a week.
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^ I loved that strange little fellow. It’s a toy cheese press!
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fancyfeathers · 3 months
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The Old Therebefore
(Yandere Wriothesley songfic)
connected to my Yandere Neuvillette & Wriothesley series- Yandere Neuvillette & Wriothesly’s darling thoughts, Nothing You Can Take From Me Was Worth Keeping , I’m Bad But Then Your No Prize Either , post story headcannons, Pankration ring rules, Heartbreaking comparisons, Wriothesley’s darling escaping, Encountering his escaped darling, Wriothesley getting hurt by his darling, Neuvillette’s darling escaping, The Birth of the End
TW- This does have hinted at topics of suicidal thoughts towards the end so read with caution
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You're headed for heaven, the sweet old hereafter
And I've got one foot in the door
Everyone knows of the Duke of Meropides’s darling, but next to no one actually knows her. The last time anyone saw her was a number of years ago when she just returned to Fontaine, when she was playing in a traveling band. After a small show in the Court of Fontaine they were arrested on the grounds of entering the city without proper documentation, but that was the last time  anyone saw her. Well that is until a number of months later where she was seen at the Duke’s side when he was going to a meeting with the Iudex of Fontaine and there she was, at his side, and with child.
But before I can fly up, I've loose ends to tie up
Right here, in the old there-before
Gossip spread through Fontaine like wildfire, but none of it was true.  One of them knew what happened to her before all that, long before all that. No one knew how a number of years ago how she was arrested under charges that seemed to be kept from the public eyes. No one knew about her private trial, no there was no jury, only her, the Iudex, her defense, and the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale. No one knows how she was found guilty of a crime she didn’t commit. No one knows how her friend broke her out of the containment facility before she was transferred to the fortress. No one knows about all those months on the run she spent before they were caught. No one knows about the years she spent in captivity in the fortress, kept away from all the world. No one knows that she ran agin, but inevitably had her wings clipped again.
And I'll be along when I've finished my song
When I've shut down the band
When I've played out my hand
When I've paid all my debts
What people know is what is printed in the papers, a beautiful couple who had only been spotted, no actual formal public appearances. The rumors spread about how the Duke’s darling hated public appearances, wanting a break after her music career (if you could call it that). Then there was also the talk of where they live because certainly she would not live at the fortress when with child. 
When I have no regrets
Right here, in the old there-before
When nothing is left anymore
Well that much was true, she did not live at the fortress, anymore. A number of months in her pregnancy she was moved to the countryside of Fontaine, in a small cottage. Then by the time she gave birth to their baby girl, Wriothesley would never leave her side. That’s why he had the meeting with Iudex, to help prepare for time off for his child’s birth.
And I'll catch you up
When I've emptied my cup
When I've worn-out my friends
When I've burned out both ends
In those first few weeks he spent at home, with his darling and daughter, helping make sure his daughter is healthy and darling is recovered from the birth. After those first few weeks or months, he returns to work at the fortress during the days. His darling, since she still had a baby to look after was still tied down, she would not be able to escape with their daughter. She was so cut off from the outside world despite not being trapped under the sea level.
When I've cried all my tears
When I've conquered my fears
Right here, in the old there-before
When nothing is left anymore
Years passed and their baby grew into a little girl, no older than six or seven. The darling watched as her freedom and life slipped by. Sure she was not bound by locked iron doors and metal chains, but now she was bound by child and wedding band. Now the only semblance of freedom she had were the days Wriothesley took them to the city, her daughter saw these as fun family days but the darling was only able to see it as the world that was take from her, but a world that praised the relationship she was in. So now she would much rather spend her days back at the cottage, because then she could lay down in the grass with peace and quiet, no little comments from conversations of people they passed, no clicking of cameras of reporters who spotted them. She was able to be alone with her thoughts, and that’s was as much freedom she got.
And I'll bring the news
When I've danced off my shoes
When my body's closed down
It was the best when her daughter was napping, put into bed. This was her time to be, she could go outside, sitting in the field of grass that acted as her prison, and just be. She used to play music for an audience, now she only sung for herself. Sometimes she like to sing, but sometimes she hated it, both for the same reason, it reminds her of the life she had and lost.
When I've tallied the score
And I'm flat on the floor
Right here, in the old there-before
When nothing is left anymore
But then this moment of peace was almost always ruined by a reminder of her captivity, normally this would be her daughter waking up from her nap and coming outside to listen to her mother sing. But every once and awhile this would be ruined by a muscular hand coming to brush the hair out of her face and a kiss to her cheek, a reminder that her captor still exists.
When I'm pure like a dove
When I've learned how to love
He would call her songbird sometimes, especially in front of their daughter to get silly reactions out of her. But underneath the smile the darling forced, she hated it all, the attention from the jailbird. Sometimes she wished that when she laid down in the grass and closed her eyes that she wouldn’t wake up again.
Right here, in the old there-before
When nothing is left anymore
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modelsof-color · 6 months
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Rahul Mishra is a renowned Indian fashion designer making significant contributions to the world of haute couture.
Rahul Mishra was born and brought up in Kanpur, a small industrial city in Uttar Pradesh, India. Growing up in a modest middle-class family, he was encouraged to pursue his dreams. Mishra discovered his passion for fashion at a young age and started experimenting with design and stitching. Rahul started his journey as a designer in Mumbai, where he  worked with embroiderers who lived in the urban slum locality called, Dharavi. He attended the National Institute of Design in Ahmedabad, where he honed his skills and developed a unique design philosophy rooted in sustainability and craftsmanship.
In 2014, Rahul Mishra created history by becoming the first Indian designer to win the prestigious International Woolmark Prize. He competed against talented designers from around the world and impressed the jury with his collection inspired by the beauty of rural India. This achievement brought global recognition to Mishra and opened doors for him to showcase his work on international platforms.
Rahul Mishra’s journey as a designer encompasses not just creating beautiful garments but also making a profound impact on the fashion industry. Through the Hand embroidery and how it plays a pivotal role in Rahul Mishra’s creations. His commitment to reviving traditional craft techniques led him to collaborate with artisans across India. Mishra’s intricate embroidery work showcases the skill and artistry of these craftsmen while adding exquisite detailing to his designs. Through his work, he not only preserves ancient embroidery traditions but also empowers and supports the artisan community.
Commenting on the topic he said : "My objective is to create jobs which help people in their own villages; I take work to them rather than calling them to work for me. If villages are stronger, you will have a stronger country, a stronger nation, and a stronger world. My entire philosophy revolves around that. The product will go through evolution… it will change, improve, but the philosophy is constant.”
Rahul’s work in preserving local cultures and crafts in India as well as his  efforts in sustainably are among the many reasons that the designer has been featured on the global influential list of ‘BoF 500’ for four consecutive years as well being awarded the title of “International Fashion Award for Sustainable and Ethical Brand’ by Chambre Monegasque de la Mode at the Monte Carlo fashion Show. 
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 months
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please please please what happens next in gaslamp!?? im dying here. ill take anything 🫶🏻🫶🏻😭😭
Carefully, when Jason got you to the manor, the girls prized you away from him. Things needed to be asked. Conversations needed to be had. And no man needed to be the one to ask- and they weren't sure Jason could handle hearing the answers. Not from you directly.
And. They couldn't be sure you'd talk in front of him, to be perfectly honest.
He could have you back when Bruce had the information he needed to save you from a jail cell if it came to that. Or worse still- the wrong end of a hangman's noose. You were young. Pretty. And now a doe-eyed trauma figurine. A jury of men would be hard-pressed to hang you but- it was best not to risk it. There needed to be records. Of Everything.
Not just that but. Injuries needed to be tended. And, as gentle and attentive as Jason would be- you were fragile. You were in shock. An innocent miss who'd been put in an impossible situation. A woman's worst nightmare.
Still. Once you were cleaned up, cried out, and plied with something to help you sleep- no one stopped him from carrying you off. murmuring reassurances against your ear too quietly for anyone else to clearly hear.
_____
"Won't your father be angry?" you ask groggily.
"No," Jason snorted. "And my intentions are chaste, I assure you." He kissed your forehead. "I thought I lost you."
"I was so frightened."
"I know," he soothed softly, "But I'm here. You're safe here."
"I didn't know what to do. If I had missed or if the gun hadn't fired- if I hadn't-"
"Shhhh," he murmured. "It's over now. You're safe. He's not going to hurt you again. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you again, Wildflower."
"Please don't go-"
"I'll be here," he promised, tucking you into his arms, tucking his blankets around you.
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memecucker · 3 months
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The 33-year-old author, whose latest novel "Tokyo-to Dojo-to" wowed the Akutagawa jury, who found it "so perfect that it is difficult to find fault with it", revealed at the prize giving ceremony that she had "used the full potential of AI to write this book.”
She explained that "around 5% of the book is made up of sentences generated by AI", quoted word for word.
The author confessed that conversing frequently with the AI allowed her to confide her most intimate thoughts, which she "can't talk about with anyone else", before adding that ChatGPT 's responses sometimes inspired dialogue in the novel.
Kudan’s novel is set in an imagined near future where AI has become an integral part of daily life. It follows the story of an architect who builds a tower in a Tokyo park designed to offer a place where criminals are rehabilitated and explores her discomfort with society’s tolerance towards those who break the law.
Kudan believes that the generative artificial intelligence software has helped her to unleash her creative potential, and said that she wanted to maintain a "good relationship" with the AI.
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