howling wolf tattoo

Steggy Positivity Week Day 02: AU or Crossover- Florist/Tattoo Artist AU

It’s been months since Peggy left behind a promising career in business to work at Flower Girl, a flower shop in Brooklyn owned and operated by the ever cheerful and eternally motherly Winifred Barnes. The calm, relaxed atmosphere is a welcome change from the high stakes, high stress environment of the business world- that is, until a tattoo parlor opens up next door. Flower Girl’s new neighbors are raucous and rude, with a penchant for playing rock music at top volume, usually at odd hours. When Peggy marches in to give them a talking to, she finds something she doesn’t expect- a handsome, soft spoken artist named Steve Rogers, for whom, as time progresses, Peggy finds herself feeling not hatred but in fact its exact opposite.

The droning buzz of a tattoo needle, insistent as a jackhammer, settled in the base of Peggy’s skull the moment she stepped in the door of Howling Wolf Tattoo. She gritted her teeth against the sound-and her mounting headache-and marched up to the reception desk, fully prepared to air her grievances. She did not expect to find a handsome blond man sitting behind it drawing in what appeared to be a very well used notebook, and when he glanced up at her approach and asked “May I help you?” in a quiet, courteous voice, she found no words were forthcoming.

hips don’t lie (1/2)

A little two part CS modern AU fic. Emma and Tink are used to their friend Ruby’s crazy ideas, so when she signs them all up for belly dance classes they don’t bother arguing and just go with it. 

Rating: T - or at least this part is!

The belly dance lessons were Ruby’s idea. Just like entering that wet T-shirt contest at the dive bar they passed on their way home from a day at the beach that one time was Ruby’s idea, and the spontaneous weekend trip to Vegas on two hours’ notice was Ruby’s idea, and the ankle tattoo was Ruby’s idea.

Emma now had a gaudy plastic trophy on her dresser that proclaimed her to be - Carl’s Bar and Crab Shack Miss Best Boobs 2014 - 3rd Place Winner - a cocktail named The Black Swan after her was listed on the menu of a Vegas hotspot, and she had a large yellow and black sunflower inked on her ankle, so the belly chain and the bedazzled bra Ruby brandished at her weren’t too outlandish by comparison.

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anonymous asked:

What if one night stiles got drunk and decided it'd be funny to get a tattoo of a wolf howling at the moon on his ass. After it heals he kinda forgets about it until its somehow hilariously revealed.

Sorry for the delay, but yes. What if indeed, anon. I imagine it might go something like this… (Warning this gets a little angsty and isn’t has hilarious as I had hoped, but it ends happy and mildy funny so… there’s that.)

He blames the fact that he was by himself and didn’t have Scott or Lydia or someone to stop him. He blames the fact that he was trying to get over his feelings towards the stupid grumpy asshole of a werewolf named Derek Hale. He blames the fact that his dad is working late and therefore won’t know where he’s gone. He blames the fact that he has a fake ID to get him into the Jungle where he can look pretty enough to get drinks provided for him and buy the rest with his allowance to make him so wasted that he doesn’t remember why it’s maybe not a good idea to get a tattoo, and why it’s not as funny as he thinks it is to get one of a wolf howling at the moon on his ass.

He thinks, in his drunken state, that it’s his way of telling Derek to kiss his ass, or something, maybe? Whatever.

The point is, it’s happened, and he wakes up to his ass wrapped in plastic wrap feeling like it’s on fire and a pounding headache.

He kind of can’t do anything about the unfortunate decision of getting the tattoo, but at least it’s in a location where no one can see it, not even him, unless they were really looking or in some kind of intimate situation. And since he has since quit lacrosse and has no prospects of the intimate variety, he doesn’t have anything to worry about.

He does however follow the instructions on proper care because the last thing he wants to do is admit to his Dad what happened or go to the hospital to have Mrs. McCall treating his infected butt.

So he takes care of it, is careful with how he sits, but not so careful that people notice. Or maybe they’ll just think he got some, which he’s more than happy to let them think. After it’s healed though, he kind of forgets that it’s there. Well, he knows it’s there of course, but you know, out of sight out of mind. It’s not like he checks out his own ass that often.

That is of course until they are all at Lydia’s lake house swimming, goofing off, and he decides it’d be really hilarious to start pantsing the guys. Only Scott retaliates so spectacularly by ripping his swim trunks off with his claws and shredding them so Stiles has nothing but his hands to cover himself.

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