collective tattoo

You made have heard about the Manchester attacks(22/5/2017) There have been a collection of tattoo studios offering the Manchester Worker Bee for £50 which will go to the families affected. Today my parents and I got it,except mine is slightly different as it involves the bisexual flag;this is because in the city you can express yourself no matter who you are.I live just under an hour away from Manchester and I’m deeply proud to have this mark of solidarity and remembrance for those we have lost. It’s such a tight nit community and we will not be beaten #westandtogether

i was going to submit this for the reverse bang but i didn’t finish it in time so! have a headcanon post

modern urban witch louis keeps old rum and whisky bottles when he’s done with them to store his herbs and keeps his new spell ideas in a note in his phone. he has to wear shoes around his flat because he’s always got lines of salt on the floor he forgot to sweep up, and more than once he’s done a one-handed tarot reading with his other hand stuck in a bag of crisps, TV playing loudly in the background. he has a shitty office job to pay the bills but on the side he sells potions and spells to a few trusted people – he can’t do anything major, just things like protection and safety sigils when lottie wants to go on holiday to majorca and pain relief solutions when his roommate niall has a headache, but it’s what makes him happiest.

when harry stumbles into his life, it’s because niall bragged about louis’ skills to his friend liam from work, who told his friend harry that there might actually be a solution to the insomnia that’s been plaguing him for months. harry’s tried everything – sleeping pills, therapy, home remedies, hypnotism, you name it – but nothing has worked. normally louis doesn’t do his magic for just anyone: it’s a secret for a reason, and he doesn’t want to be be bombarded by random distant acquaintances begging for magical relief to their own problems, and he’s debating sending harry away. but then harry shows up on louis and niall’s doorstep with deep dark circles under his eyes and the most pathetic look on his face louis has ever seen, and he folds like a stack of tarots.

louis brews up a quick sleep solution (ground smoky quartz crystal for stress, valerian root for a hypnotic, passionflower for anxiety, and 100 proof vodka to make it go down) and pretends he doesn’t notice the green of harry’s eyes or the wide set of his shoulders (all while harry is trying not to gape at this actual witch, who not only is not green-skinned and warty like he expected but actually, um, really fucking attractive). harry thanks louis profusely when he leaves, takes the solution when he gets home, and sleeps for almost fifteen hours.

he shows up again the next day to shower louis in more effusive thanks and to get more of the solution, and louis valiantly tries to control the blush that heats his cheeks when harry declares him “the greatest person on the planet in the history of ever, i’m pretty sure.”

then harry turns up the next day as well, this time on the excuse that he stubbed his toe and he was pretty sure he’d never be able to walk again. louis tucked his smile away, called harry a drama queen, and gave him a pain relief potion. 

and then the next day he was back again, claiming he didn’t feel bad yet but he was pretty sure he was about to come down with something, like a cold or maybe ebola.

and then it’s like he’s there every day on flimsier and flimsier excuses. (”louis, i’m being serious, i think i have gout. or, like, scurvy.” “harry, you walked in eating an orange, i think you’re fine.”) harry’s favorite thing to do is to sit and watch louis as he goes about his normal business, brewing special teas for his sisters and reading tarot cards for niall, who likes to be prepared for the coming week. niall, who got used to the magic business a long time ago, sits and keeps harry from sticking his fingers into anything he shouldn’t, or from accidentally knocking over the bottle of home-grown nightshade.

luckily, louis doesn’t mind one bit.

eventually, harry adds louis-designed protection sigils to his already extensive tattoo collection, and has learned to avoid the strategic piles of salt scattered around louis’ flat. their first date is a midnight picnic on the roof of harry’s building, picking distant star patterns out of the sky and sharing tentative, sweet kisses. 

for their first anniversary, louis carves the rune for true love into a jade pendant and blushes wildly when he tells harry what it means.

“it’s um. it means true love.”

harry pulls louis close, wide-eyed and starstruck, “aw, lou. i love you too.” and then he leans back, grinning wildly. “looks like you’ve got me under your spell.”

harry’s still laughing when louis pinches him in the side for the terrible pun, but he stops quick enough when louis gives him something else to do with his mouth instead.