author's note: Oop- this time, the song recommendation is &Run by Sir Sly!

Wednesday, Mar. 03

"Buttercup is going to be so, so mad," Boomer commented. It was the first thing he'd said out loud since the appointment began over two hours ago.

Bubbles laughed a little. "Yeah I know, but I made this appointment two months ago."

"It's also a little too late to back out now," came the third voice, almost impossibly deep and masculine. The voice belonged to a man by the name of Ever, who had dyed silver hair pulled back into a man bun, a very cared for and carefully maintained dark brown beard, and who stood probably as tall at Butch did. He was at least over six feet, and Bubbles dared to guess he was two inches over, just the same as the mechanic. His eyes were stern, concentrated, but surprisingly soft all the same, shining an almost olive hue under the fluorescent lighting.

Most importantly was the art lining what one could see of his arms and neck.

He was her tattoo artist.

She was laying on her stomach on the black leather chair that had been laid flat, her shirt had been discarded to the corner of the room and her chin rested easily against the headrest. Her bra was open, the back bands laying limp just beneath her armpits so that the artist had full access to her back, but he had her keep the straps on her shoulders so she felt a little more secure and less like she might accidentally flash everyone in the room if she moved wrong.

The prodding of the needle was intense and insistent, but the worst she felt was a mild and near painless pinch from time to time.

"I keep thinking you're gonna scream any moment now," the artist admitted, amusement just as thick as the southern accent in his voice as he continued to tattoo along her spine. "I keep forgetting just how thick your skin is. This is usually one of the most painful places people get tattooed."

She laughed warmly. "It's one of those little perks of being a Puff, I guess."

Boomer chuckled as he leaned back, looking at the linework that the man was carefully etching into her skin. He'd been silent to let the tattoo artist focus on what he was doing and minimize any issues. Now that the man had spoken, sounding pretty relaxed, the blond felt much better about talking. "I thought for sure Butch or Buttercup would be the first of us with ink."

"I got tired of waiting on BC," Bubbles sighed. "I think she's a little wary of the needle gun."

"But she has piercings?"

She couldn't shrug, so she hummed noncommittally. "She had to keep her eyes squeezed shut when we got our ears pierced together, though…"

"Your second ones?" Boomer asked, raising a brow. He'd been the one to go with her and the Professor when she went to go get her first piercings in her earlobes. Now, the blonde had three in either lobe and one in each ear's upper cartilage.

"Third ones, actually," she clarified. "I got the second ones in my lobes when Blossom finally decided she wanted to get hers done, too, but didn't want to go alone or get any by herself."

Cobalt eyes rolled. "Any excuse for you, huh?"

"Of course. I can wear even more pretty jewelry this way." She grinned broadly. "When I can't pick between pairs of earrings, why not just wear all of them?"

Ever laughed at the logic but didn't interrupt their conversation.

Boomer looked at the phases of the moon the man had already finished down the column of her back, his eyes watching as the man continued near her rear. Her pants had been pulled down just a bit so that Ever could easily finish up without any weird snags from her clothes- but they stayed mostly on her ass. An octopus, clinging to the last sliver of a crescent moon with two of its tentacles, was being finished up right where someone might get what was (degradingly called) a tramp stamp.

"And we didn't want color?" Ever asked.

"Not this time," she answered easily, a smile clear in her voice. "I might come back later for it, but not now. I like your inks and shading as they are."

He laughed and leaned back. "Thank you. I'm not used to being able to do so much work at once, so I wanted to be sure. Usually, we have to break a tattoo like this down into two or three sittings, anyway. Between the pain and the impatience, it's easier that way."

"How long does it normally take for a tattoo to fully heal?" Bubbles asked.

Ever kept working as he spoke. "Usually, in normal people, the top layer of skin is done and healed within two or three weeks. The skin under that, holding most of the ink pigment, usually isn't fully healed until five or six months out. Normal people have to be careful with it, because some complications like fading or discoloration can happen within those first six months that can lead to needing touch-ups or infections that could need antibiotics."

The blonde tilted her head a bit, nodding so that he knew she'd listened and heard him.

So he continued. "When you think you're fully healed, I'd like to see you again for a check up. I've never had to tattoo a super, or someone with healing abilities beyond normal humans, anyway," he admitted, pulling his gun back and leaning back in his stool. His green eyes skimmed over her back after he wiped away excess ink from where he was working. "I'll have some sort of metric to know how long it may take others like you, that way."

She smiled back at the silver haired man. "Of course! With how good your work is, I don't doubt that my sister would like to get one from you, too. Whether or not it happens is another story, but I know she'd want one."

"How much longer should it take?" Boomer asked curiously. "We don't have anything going on, I've just never seen this process before."

"Probably about thirty more minutes," he admitted as he inspected his work. "I'll switch gloves to get all the extra ink off of me so it doesn't smear everywhere, give her a good rub down—over the tattoo to remove excess ink, of course—and then see if there are any gaps I missed when I'm done with this tentacle. If everything's in order, we'll have you two out of here before it hits three o'clock."

The blond's phone buzzed twice, letting him know he had a text. "Is there anything she needs to know?"

Ever hummed as he went back to his work. "She needs to wear loose clothes. It's gonna scab, peel and flake—that's all part of the healing process. Or, that's what usually happens, so if it happens to you just know it's normal. To irritate it as little as possible, loose clothes. Maybe chill at home until you can wear a bra again," he said simply. "The bands might make the healing right here—" he tapped right next to the moon phase that was tattooed right where her bra straps would go, "—a little more difficult."

"Ugh," she groaned. "Boom, do you wanna go grab cat food for me, then? I'm almost out."

"We'll worry about it later, Bubs." He shrugged and looked down at his phone. "Right now, let's just worry about finishing this up and getting you home. Brick is already there waiting, with Blossom, for you."

"Noooooooooo," she whined softly.

He sighed. "How do you think I feel? He knows I'm here. He's gonna be just as mad at me as he is you."

She groaned again.

Why did she ever think getting close to Brick was a good idea?

All it gave her was another 'elder sibling' figure in her life.

They finished up the appointment, Bubbles paid and Boomer almost immediately ran off back to his own apartment. Or, he took off in that direction, anyway. The blonde lass almost didn't want to come home- knowing that there were two redheads on the other side of her door that were going to grill her up one side and down the other. But, she sucked it up and entered her apartment.

"There you are, where have you- where the hell is your bra?"

The blonde was mildly impressed at how quickly her so-called 'elder brother' (though again! she was the older one of the two!) made a complete one-eighty. From pinning her down with those fire red eyes of his ready to demand answers to keeping them steadied on her sky blue eyes while using his left hand to cover up her chest from his line of sight. It was almost comical how he tried to seem intimidating while holding a hand up to keep a portion of something from his sight.

Blossom peeked around the corner to the kitchen, her brows furrowed in concern. "...Bubbles?"

"It's right here, don't freak out." She lifted her purse. "Boomie was with me, anyway."

"Where is he now?"

"Hiding from you," she answered the Ruff leader honestly, pushing past him to set her stuff down, waving weakly at Blossom. "He went home- but I think he said he was gonna stop by Butch's to bother him. I'd check there first, if you're looking for him."

"Bubbles," Blossom started, her pink eyes concerned. "What did you do today, anyway?"

She smiled- the smile portraying her unease and her preparation to be yelled at. "…I got a tattoo?"

The speed at which all emotion drained from their faces was concerning.

It was so silent, a pin drop would echo.

"You did what?" Blossom finally asked, loudly, after she snapped out of it.

Then, as though her words were the trigger, Brick also seemed to snap out of it. "I'm gonna kill Butch—"

"I made the appointment two months ago now, it has literally nothing to do with Butch," Bubbles deadpanned.

"Bubbles, what on Earth made you think that was a good idea?!" Blossom asked, her pink eyes wide as she started in on her lecture. The blonde only listened with half an ear, though. It was always better to let the woman let it out of her system before trying anything else. She'd rant and rave and get it all off of her chest in a long-winded lecture and then, maybe, she'd be able to actually talk to her. But, from the seething in fire eyes, she knew she needed to let them both let it out first.

But she did shoot Butch a text.

Me: A warning: Brick apparently thinks you're the reason I got my tattoo, despite me having made the appointment almost an entire month before I broke my leg. If he comes at you, that's why .

Me: I'm so, so sorry about this.

"Are you gonna tell me what happened or are you gonna keep your mouth shut?"

Boomer looked up to the corner where Coffee and Candy were both curled up on a cat tower the tallest Ruff had put up in his shop. "I can't tell you."

"God, you're more annoying than usual today." He went back to working on the oil change that Boomer had interrupted. It was one of the few services that Butch went into the little underground enclave thing beneath the garage for. With the cars above him, and enough room for him to easily move around, he could make sure all the old motor oil went into a container and not just all over the ground when he emptied it this way. "She at least gonna be okay?"

"Yeah? I wouldn't be here if she wasn't gonna be okay. You know me better than that."

"Who's this she?" The blond looked over to the entrance to the garage just in time to catch Buttercup walking in.

"N-Nobody in particular!"

"You're shit at lying," she laughed. "Et tu, Green Bean?" She came to stand next to Boomer so she could see down into the little cave just under the truck he had parked there.

Butch didn't look at her, still focused on his job, but he did answer. "Sweetcheeks did something that they say's gonna piss you and Bloss Boss off."

"And Brick," the blond grumbled. "Brick's definitely gonna be upset, too."

That got the Puff's attention and her eyes immediately narrowed on him. "What'd you enable Bubs to do?"

"I actually, believe it or not, had zero input on this," Boomer defended, raising both of his hands with his palms outward. "She told me to clear my schedule but wouldn't tell me what we were doing until we left to do it because she didn't want anyone bullying the information out of me."

"You do tend to cave pretty easily," Buttercup muttered.

He stomped a foot. "Excuse you, I still haven't said anything about it yet!"

She raised a slim brow at him. "But you will."

"No I won't!"

"What did Bubbles do?"

"Nothing you won't find out about soon enough," he snarked, crossing his arms over his chest. It wasn't often that he was pushed into defensiveness, but it almost always came as a result of Brick or Buttercup. "She said she wanted to tell you. I'm not going to."

"I don't like how sneaky she's gotten," Buttercup muttered. "That's supposed to be my schtick."

A loud vibration sound echoed through the shop. Butch's phone, sitting on his work bench, had gotten a text. He stopped what he was doing to wipe his hands off and look up at the two bickering idiots. "Hey, would one of y'all shut up long enough to hand me my phone?"

"Expecting a call?" the Puff asked as she stepped around the indignant blue Ruff to do as asked.

"No, but if someone's trying to schedule an appointment, I need to be able to answer," he deadpanned.

When she came around to pass him his phone, she sat on the ground and handed it to him under the truck. "Someone's being shorter than usual today."

"It's just 'cause I'm underground," he rolled his eyes.

"Not literally, dipshit," she laughed.

"Brick woke me up too early," he shrugged.

Butch was forced to look away from Boomer when his eyebrow raised accusingly.

His brother knew better.

"Anyway, Blueberry, what did my sister do?"

Butch made a surprised sound that almost sounded like a cough- or maybe a choke. " Holy shit. Sweetcheeks got a tattoo ?!"

Lime eyes pinned Boomer where he stood. The blond could feel the cold sweat breaking out on his forehead while the green Puff's features twisted into shock and mild anger- though surprise stayed the most dominant emotion. "What."

It wasn't a question.

It was a demand for an answer.

"It's a text from Sweetcheeks herself, warning me that Brick's tryin to blame me for it," he laughed out.

"She had it scheduled since the start of the semester," Boomer muttered.

"That bitch," Buttercup exclaimed, turning on her heel to head after the blonde, literally running out of the automotive shop. "She knew I wanted one! And she got one before me?! Without me?! I'm gonna kick her ass!"

Butch's head poked out from under the truck. "Text me a picture of what it looks like!"

"It's down her spine," the blond said, as though that information would help anything about the situation. He didn't think Buttercup could still hear him with how far she'd gotten.

"I'M GONNA KICK HER ASS!"

The Puff launched off into the night sky, neglecting to say why she'd even shown up in the first place in her mad dash to get after her sister. That said, Butch chuckled after she left out and offered a text back to the blonde. A shout for a shout.

Me: a warning: read that out loud cause I was shocked- Butterbabe heard. she's on her way.

Me: also, u should show me soon (;

Boomer cleared his throat, tapping his foot. "…Brick woke you up too early, huh?"

"Yep," Butch said coldly, trying to cut the conversation there.

The blond wasn't letting it go there, though. He seemed to be the only one with half a brain. "You can fool Brick all you want to, but I'm not the emotionally constipated one of us three. I see the way you look at her, you know."

"Butterbabe is just a friend," the taller of the two scoffed, abandoning his phone to get back to work.

They both knew that Boomer wasn't talking about Buttercup.

Cobalt eyes rolled dramatically. "Obtuse asshole. Fine then. Keep walking in your rut and kicking yourself over it."

The mechanic didn't retort.

It made the blond want to go around back and slam his own head against a wall for half an hour or so. His sister slash absolute best friend and his brother were blind as hell and idiots —and one of them needed to get their heads out of their asses soon. There wasn't anything wrong with going on a date or two! With how well the two so obviously worked and meshed together, there was literally no reason they couldn't at least try!

Boomer grinded his teeth a little.

The only reason would be if one of them were holding out to find their soulmate first. The statistical probability of that happening was insanely low, though. Less than six hundred couples found their soulmates yearly- worldwide . Not just in the Americas, not just in Europe or Asia- but worldwide. Seven billion people, and less than a thousand couples even triggered the response. If they were lucky enough to fall into that percentage of the population (that was far, far less than even one percent), it wasn't something they'd know about until it happened.

The thick bands like choker necklaces that formed like tattoos around the base of the neck didn't show up for the biggest part of the population. He knew Bubbles wasn't holding her breath for a soulmate- and Butch didn't seem like the romantic type that held out for something like that…

"How do I look at her…?"

The question was so quiet, so choked out by raw emotions, that Boomer almost didn't catch it. "…You look at Bubs like she's an oasis in a desert." It was interesting to see his brother's shoulders slump, almost like the weight of his words were what fell and brought them down. "You look at her like she reminds you what love means."

Butch braced himself against the wall, his hands right at shoulder level, and his head fell to hang between his arms. His biceps were strained, taut and tense. Blue eyes honed in on how his thumbs still shook a little, despite the obvious attempt to stop the trembles. "…that bad, huh?"

"You look hopeless sometimes, yeah."

"Fuck." He stayed there for a long minute before standing straight. The green eyed man finally took his time to finish up whatever he had to do to the truck from under there, taking barely more than ten minutes to do whatever it was. Once finished, he came up and sat on the tailgate of the truck, his elbows on his knees as he leaned over. "It wasn't supposed to go this way, Boom."

It had been years- literal years - since he'd last seen Butch willingly open up about anything. Both times, the subject had him looking worn down and exhausted… Only this time, it was much more of an emotional and mental exhaustion. "Why not do something about it? Ask her on a date or something."

"We're not in high school anymore, Boom. It just don't work that way."

"Why not?" he demanded. Neither Butch nor Bubbles thought it was good enough to try their hands at happiness when they both so clearly felt so much happier with each other. "You can only trick Brick into thinking that you guys are just feeling out how things are supposed to work with you for so long. He's eventually gonna see past it."

"Why does he get years to settle into that big brother role, and you into this weird brother-boyfriend role, but I can't have more than a month?"

Boomer narrowed his eyes right back at Butch's narrowed ones. "We're not fucking dating, asshole, I don't know how many times I need to tell you that. You can deflect all you damn well want to, but you know I'm fucking right."

"I know you're talking about shit you don't know about." His green eyes may have been narrowed as though he were on the offensive or as though he were about to attack, but the guarded look in those eyes told him that all defenses were up. "Why are you trying to hook us up, anyway?"

Butch wouldn't listen unless he wanted to.

Already done with the conversation, the blue Ruff ran his hand down his face. "Maybe I just want my brother to be happy. Maybe I just want to see my best friend happy," he admitted, though his tone was accusatory. "Is it so wrong to care about you two?"

Butch's mouth remained firmly shut.

Boomer shook his head. "I'm heading back home. I've got an album to finish working on. When you're done being a stubborn fucking mule, I'll be around."