A/N: A fond hello to you all my lovelies- welcome to "Soul Ink" a random idea generated from late night Tumblr browsing and I fell in love with two particular prompts especially and I have decided to thus write a story based upon the soul mate idea. Especially after Act 4 in As Time Goes By more or less turned that particular trope on its head now didn't it? ;D

I have thus taken these original two ideas and expanded upon them both thus- Welcome to "Soul Ink"

I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did in writing it- As with "Hate" I have more or less decided this will be in five parts- perhaps six.

Enjoy my lovelies!

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Prompt 1: Everyone in the world is born with a tattoo that is supposed to lead you to your soulmate one way or another.

Prompt 2: You remove your tattoo because you hate the idea of someone dictating who you can be with for the rest of your life and the person who's removing it happens to be your soulmate and they're torn between letting you know and just not bringing it up because you kind of went there because you didn't want a soulmate and vice versa.

( Prompt found via Tumblr)

Pairings: Color Coded / Norms : "shorties" ( my name for the Dex/Olga ship)

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"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

― William Shakespeare

-o-o-o-

Flames.

Tch.

Of all the foolish- God did she hate looking at this wretched thing: emblazoned on her skin since birth – right across her ring finger – oh how cliché - and such and ugh. Her friends found it terribly romantic.

Blossom found it annoying.

Case in point the bar scene- or at least what was supposed to be the bar scene. But oh no- she was sitting at a bar alone. Her cousin had refused to simply let her wallow in self-pity- her recent break up still raw and tender – a three year relationship broken by a single mixing of "ink" and her former boyfriend zipping over to a dark haired rather short young woman who apparently had the other half of Einstein's theory of relativity or whatever that mess of numbers had been on his ankle on her hip.

and well. Voila.

Blossom had been wearing a bikini. She had rocked that bikini. She was hotter than that wretched little man stealing shorty whore who had gone and seduced her boyfriend –should have been fiancé with those wretched numbers and letters and ugh… Blossom needed more liquor.

They'd been at the beach. The goddamn beach. They were on vacation. They were here for Blossom's cousin's wedding. She had been a bridesmaid. She had had a date for the wedding. Now she was sitting alone in a bar where her other cousin arguably more like her brother in a way- them being two weeks apart and all- had declared Blossom wallowing in her own self-pity was not going to be allowed to continue and Mike had dragged her to this wretched bar- he had a "feeling" in his gut- They were around here somewhere.

They being Blossom's so called "soulmate". Ughhhh.

Of course he was determined upon breaking Blossom free of the tendrils of wallowing self-pity and sadness. Oh no. Because Mike Bele'vue ( Though it was always mispronounced to both her cousin's chagrins as "Believe") was a determined little brat. Her cousin was irritatingly hopeful and forever happy and ugh… of course Blossom knew why.

Mr. "Believe" had been "lucky" enough to have found his "soulmate" rather early in life.

Blossom didn't mind Robin. They'd been friends for years now- after her ever graceful cousin had interrupted the Junior year Pep Rally with his brilliant "Marching Band" skills, somehow tripped on a fiendish blade of grass- taken out the entire pyramid of cheerleaders with his Tuba and landed on the waifish flyer- his sister Clara – (though she more known as "Bubbles" due to her… ever cheerful personality) had been the only cheerleader smart enough to excuse Blossom's crudeness- Get the fuck out of the way.

It could have been disastrous- a total beat down by the angry group of sports pumped high schoolers upon the hapless shy band geek had her dear cousin not shrieked at the top of her lungs that there was now a branch supporting the ever lonely bird on Michael's bicep.

What could it have meant- who could it be!? And then the new transfer student / cheerleading protégé named Robin Snyder had slowly turned down her sock exposing an adorable singing bird now perched upon a branch across her ankle.

It had been love at first sight. "Destined" love of course and ugh… just… uggggh.

Dexter had been above such nonsense. They both had been. They had agreed their relationship was based on mutual admiration, shared interests and the sex… had been passable. Not great but well… compatibility was more important in the scheme of things.

And then the fool had brushed against the tiny ink haired woman with the ridiculous name – " La La Vava." – Who the fuck named their child "La La Vava!?

…. It was apparently a nickname- her real name had been Olga and ugh…

Dexter had taken a swig of a drink and all had been normal before he'd happened to catch a glimpse of the underside of his arm suddenly sporting a complete set of letters and numbers. The bitch had cried out and examined her own hip and… then that jaw had dropped so fast it was a shock it was still attached to his face before- zoom!

Blossom was suddenly single.

So much for being "above" such nonsense…

…Jack ass.

Wretched tiny temptress with her equally wretched Theory of Relativity plastered on that hip of hers'. It was ludicrous. They looked ridiculous! Dexter was five foot seven- this Olga was at best five fucking feet! So what Blossom had been technically taller than her boyfriend- it was only by an inch or two and... and - that didn't count! No! Their relationship had been mature and sophisticated- based off mutual trust, understanding, compatibility and so what the sex had been... not the best- who was Blossom to judge anyway!? It wasn't like she'd had a myriad of partners and...and...-!

She took another gulp of her drink.

Stupid… Stupid soulmate law. Stupid… stupid… thing!

Oh yes- everyone has a soulmate. Their tattoos will show the way- and once they meld they'll be together forever. HA!

She peered at the irksome flames licking her hand from her ring finger down her palm and stopping at her wrist. It was irritating as hell- Bubbles had more or less declared the location meant that Blossom was simply destined for an incredibly passionate love affair once she found them. Tch- she had been worse than usual lately: Having discovered her own "soul mate" last year in a pet shop of all places: The man had been anxiously looking for a replacement… lizard of some sort because he had accidentally let his brother's bearded dragon out the window and it had decided it no longer wanted to live in a glass cage.

He'd apparently been sporting a bite. Bubbles had taken the foolish man's hand by instinct to assess the wound and well… suddenly her ever empty music staff had been filled with music notes and the man's notes now at long last had a place to sit.

They'd barely been together for six months before Aaron ( though somehow he had garnered the nickname "Boomer" – his brother had explained it as being the result of a science class volcano gone horribly wrong ) but Aaron had taken those odd notes they now shared upon their skin- turned it into a song and proposed to her cousin in a nausea inducing display at Christmas.

And now Blossom was here. The two blondes had said their vows on the beach and both families had decided to spend the week in this tiny little beach town before the newly weds spirited off to the Bahamas for the next week and a half and their own return to Townsville.

Blossom had been expecting something nice and shiny to finally cover this wretched thing from view.

She instead got a frantic text message- an apology and she could bask in the knowledge that Dexter had more or less acquiesced to the inevitable destruction of his suitcase and wardrobe within as it got shucked in the sand ( Heh right on top of a ground bee's nest too- ha ha! Good luck getting your tightie whities now asshole- ha! Ha ha! Ha... oh and now it was time for more alcohol.

Another swig. She gazed around the bar but the few appetizing prospects that caught her eye and returned her gaze had all been… duds. Oh sure the initial conversation went well enough… Mike being an excellent wingman with Robin doing most of the actual "winging" because her cousin was the protective sort. Boomer had had a hell of time proving himself worthy of Clara Believe – and Bubbles' overprotective older brother had made it quite clear that "soulmate or not"- if Aaron ever made his sister cry he would be "taken care of" and Bubbles could just find a new soulmate.

It had been taken to heart. And Mike had also been the one along with Boomer's brother, Brendan though he was apparently more known as "Butch" to hunt Dexter down in his new love nest where he'd disappeared to- and make sure Dexter's expensive prescription glasses were in need of repair after being broken in two. (Aaron and Clara had been in honeymoon bliss though both had been rather peeved they weren't informed: apparently "Boomer and Bubbles" were always up for an "asshole" hunt. Blossom had also been informed upon their return she was being swept away for a glamour day at the spa with "Bubbles." )

To be fair… Blossom knew she was rather blessed in her friends. She knew this. "Butch" had broken Dexter's nose and managed to peel her enraged cousin/ "white knight" off the man before the police had been called.

This Olga was a bitch. She didn't think her and Olga would be going out for coffee anytime soon. Dexter was already whipped.

Tch. Serves the jack ass right. Enjoy servitude. Enjoy the new leash.

Bastard. Jack ass. "Sniveling little midget."

She snickered at that slightly. Brendan was almost six foot six. Blossom rather liked "Butch" and ironically enough her no nonsense best friend- Isabella or Buttercup as she had been since that unfortunate pony ride incident at Bubbles' seventh birthday party( how the girl had somehow managed to make a pony "gallop" was a mystery in which Blossom would never understand) but her dear friend had been apparently "impressed" with the muscled dark haired former boxing coach. He'd been impressed with the no nonsense bar tender. Mutual impression had abounded.

They'd both been thus amused but not surprised when after their spur of the moment… "encounter" in the bed sheets Butch's flower on his… place Blossom didn't need to know about and Buttercup's mysterious "swirl" was suddenly revealed to be of all things a "snail" atop her left breast now perched on a flower. She wasn't pleased with that result: She hated flowers.

But she certainly liked Butch. Blossom had received many… a random butt dial. And Butch was a decent fellow: treated her bestie right.

Though he was apparently in the "doghouse" at the moment- having not called Buttercup to join in the "nerd bloodbath" either.

She hoped Dexter's nose never healed properly. Did that make her a bad person? Yes? Oh fucking well.

Booze. Lots of booze.

Boomer treated her cousin right and had proposed to Bubbles almost as soon as it was socially acceptable. Robin and Mike were engaged (had been since senior year) and were saving up for their destination wedding in Italy.

Happiness simply abounded for her friends and family. Yes... just…

She gazed at the fire again. Wretched… thing.

The men who had approached her had of course after a decent conversation made an excuse to touch her- brush the hand before taking their glass- allowing their shoulders to rub together… and then an even more subtle look at some random body part… and voila.

Blossom was sitting alone at a bar. Sipping her alcohol and just… being lonely.

Stupid… fire. Stupid beach. Stupid bitch.

Stupid… everything.

Another shot. Still being lonely.

Inked for life…

A wretched system: A supposed "gift" from above: A single clue to their true love. A mark on the body – incomplete as such until they touched their so called "soulmate" for the first time.

Oh yes- a wonderful system: Save for those who were destined for no one.

Fire? Fire!? What possible sort of thing could mix with fire!? She'd thought she had a close match once- a pile of what seemed like wood on Harry's shoulder: Many had believed it was a foregone conclusion and… it had been.

…Briefly. Unfortunately for Blossom and the moron in question he had gone as far as to "fake tattoo" fire on the wood spigot: Blossom was quite attractive after all- the boy had wanted her badly. Despite the fact that "faking" such a thing was not only one of the worst "ethical" faux pas a person could commit in the world not just the United States… but it was also illegal in the state of California. A felony even.

That… had been a fun prom night… watching your date and so called "soul mate"… escorted off the property in handcuffs…

Sometimes Blossom wondered what would have been worse… being known as a "junkie's" girlfriend like the initial rumors had declared… or the "sympathy" that had surrounded her when the "truth" came out…

Oh you poor thing!

Shameful! Utterly shameful!

You're gonna press charges right!

You'd better press charges that's almost like…. You know….

Also her far too "chivalrous" cousin and his… weak right hook followed by Robin's… rescue of him when he had decided he needed to avenge his dear cousin's honor…had just made that entire debacle just so. much. FUN.

It had been a mess.

And Blossom had sworn off this whole nonsense ever since.

And to think… she had thought she had found someone also immune to the plague of the world: Oh no… no- E = MC^2 beat out of the day! Beat out three years of perfectly reasonable compatibility, intelligent conversations and…. passably good sex!

Oh yes! What did that matter! No, no- these god damn flames here- maybe this was the "almighty ones" up there idea of a grand joke: The Flames meant instead of a so called "soulmate" it actually meant Blossom was meant to die in a goddamn house fire!

Ugggggh and now look at her- reduced to a (somewhat buzzed) bum at a bar! Because every single man or woman that had even approached her inevitably it ended when those goddamn flames continued singeing on their lonely way around her hand and burning bridges before they could be constructed.

Fire… why the hell would there be fire!? What kind of… Blossom didn't even like the heat very much! She'd always had a cool personality! Calm, collected- impassive even and… and…

So what the sex hadn't been that great! It was still three years!

… Oh… Oh who was Blossom kidding! Who was- fuck it!

Just…

She slammed her credit card down and the barkeep took it wordlessly- he was likely used to the wallowing of "mateless" bums at his bar all the time. Wordlessly it was returned and she got up. Not even a tumble- see Blossom wasn't that drunk! She irritably wrapped her hand back up. It was no one's business she was still as of yet - unmelded.

Out she went. Look at that! She was walking straight- and well there was Mike and Robin attempting to do karaoke and… right no. She just wanted to go back to her lonely hotel room and just… yeah. Just… sleep. Sleep until it was time to go back to the city. Yeah. Happy fucking wedding- happy trails- may your lives be happy and wonderful and just…

Blossom needed sleep.

Buzzing her lips ( and not stumbling at all by the way) she casually strolled down the boardwalk- nothing was open at this time of night except… oh…

She cocked her head to the side and then her eyes widened.

Rowdy Ink.

Hey…..

Now there was an idea! Blossom was destined to be alone- then so be it! But why should a single tattoo keep exposing her to potential heartbreak: Clearly she had no soulmate- clearly it was a single impossibility- she was the oldest of the group: Twenty seven. She was clearly not meant for anyone- there had been some examples in history after all- it was a sad fact of life but whatever…

She didn't need it. No. No she did not. She was done. Hear that God- done!

A nod of determined (not drunk) dedication to this reasonable (not impulsive) decision she walked into the tiny building. Her eyes widened more… there was the usual alignment of traditional tattoos (skulls, random animals- badly drawn Kanji) but a few pictures showed… works of art.

True… work of art.

Tattoos were… while not "obscene) were nonetheless "frowned" upon by most of society due to the fact that it was traditional for one to have only one tattoo for… obvious reasons.

But Blossom had had enough. She'd break the damn law alright. She'd cover up the damn wretched thing once and for all- no more bandages- oh no she'd use another type of ink- she'd just trick the world- oh yes she had "found" her soulmate alright- Oh yes he was wonderful, they were so happy- thanks for asking- oh no they hadn't yet discussed children but it was always a possibility!

Blossom was an English teacher. She also ran the Drama Club. She could be a very convincing actress.

… Blossom was slightly more buzzed than she thought but whatever- no- this was the right decision! This was the right decision. Enough was enough it would keep those wretched "mate seeking" animals at bay!

Putting an elaborate masterpiece on her hand was going to get expensive. Hmm…. She took the book that was idly on what she assumed was the reception here and began skimming it. What convincingly went well with fire… hmm… her frown deepened.

… Fuck it she was boring and she was cheap: Just go with a cliché: Ah yes a flower being singed by flames- her "soulmate's" name was "Blaze" – yeeeeah. Perfect.

Her decision made she strolled over (not tripped) to the desk and rang the bell. And then did it again. And again.

"Jesus Christ! Will you hold on a minute! I hear you- I hear you!" She bristled- ugh- a male. Though… whoa.

The redhead was more inked than anyone Blossom had ever seen- both his arms were an elaborate collage of different designs which on anyone else would have looked like a random mess but on this… guy it… worked.

Had Blossom not only understood the futility of her situation and given up on the entire thing… she'd… even go so far as to say this man… was… sort of…kind of… hot.

His eyes focused on her- and the (not) handsome ink king over here folded his arms and then shook his head firmly.

"Hell no. Get out."

She blinked. "Excuse me?" She snapped. His eyebrow rose before with what sounded like a long suffering sigh he tapped a rather official looking paper right behind him.

California Statute: 9876

The act of forging a "Soul" tattoo is strictly prohibited with a penalty of-.

Oh… hell no!

She grit her teeth and shot up.

"You think I'm looking to do anything for this- this nonsense!" She held her wretched hand up- his eyebrow rose. "No I'm trying to get rid of the damned thing! I'm sick of a stupid… stupid mark or whatever dictating my life- my "destiny!" – therefore I am willing to give money to have you rid me of the damn thing!" She flashed the credit card- he still looked unimpressed.

Another sigh. Handsome but an asshole. Typical male.

"I'm also legally obliged to inform you its illegal in the state of California to give a tattoo to an obviously intoxicated individual-." He said dryly- she clenched her fist.

"I am not drunk!" She slammed the counter. "I am perfectly of sane mind! I want to do this- I have the money to do this!" In theory. "Therefore you can't tell me you won't do it- that is discrimination!"

More of a sardonic look- before he flipped up the flap of the counter and strolled over to her- oh… well look at that… he was rather tall wasn't he- he wasn't Butch… but he wasn't Dexter either.

She gulped. But he merely rubbed his brow and pointed to a wall.

"Walk over there."

She narrowed her eyes but did so.

A curt nod.

"Recite the alphabet."

"Oh for God's sake!" She hissed. "A, B, C-!"

"Backwards."

Jack ass. She clenched her fist. "Z, Y, X, W,V,U,T-." His eyebrows shot up higher. "What!?" She demanded- "I'm doing it aren't I!?" Her hands went in the air.

"…You're… not drunk?" He said slowly.

"No! Now give me the damn paper and stick a burning flower on my hand damn it!" She slapped the counter again. They glared at each other- what an asshole! A condescending likely misogynistic prime example of the wretchedness of the male species and- ugh!

Silently he walked back behind the counter and placed the long "tattoo" agreement on the counter.

"Legally I have to inform you of the permanence of inking one's body- as you know the act of removal of a tattoo of any form is illegal in the state of California and-."

She frowned, "I know the law- I'm perfectly understanding of the situation."

He leaned over, "There's no going back here Ma'am."

"I'm twenty seven- not forty-seven. Do not call me Ma'am!" Blossom snarled. He drew back,

"Jesus- okay, okay- just trying to be polite- okay – Miss- I just want you to be well aware of the implications here... but just sign here and we can-."

"BLOSSOM UTONIUM!"

She flinched. He looked past her confused- Oh God…

"Michael… don't even think-!" She began but his finger went in her face.

"Oh no- ooooh no! Uh uh- Blossom I know what you're doing and I ain't letting you!"

"…You're drunk." She said deadpan. "Go home."

"I am not drunks!" he slurred, of course being completely "sober". Of course he was. "You're drunks!"

"Actually she's more sober than you." The ink king quipped sardonically. "Can I help you sir?"

Mike's eyes blazed and he stormed over, leaning heavily over the counter,

"No's! you's can'ts- you've gots a lot of neeeeerve- lemme guess you saw my poor cousins crying her eyes ouuuuut and thought you could find an easy marrrrrk!"

Those eyes suddenly blazed, "Excuse me- this chick wandered into my shop- I was minding my own business before she started pounding on my bell like-!" He started smashing the bell in mockery of her. Well how rude- Blossom hadn't done it nearly so obnoxiously. Honestly!

"What kind of guyyyys runs a tattoo shops anyways!?"

" An artist trying to make a living-now why not take your cousin here!" He said dubiously, "And fuck off!"

"Gladly's! C'mon Blossy we're leaving-!"

She grit her teeth and ripped her arm free.

"Mike- go the fuck back to the hotel- does Robin even know you're here!? Don't come storming over here like some kind of "knight-in-shining armor-"I'm not your baby cousin anymore- I'm an adult- now you go the fuck away- I've had it with all this goddamn nonsense! I'm twenty-seven and the world's given up on me finding love anyway and I'm sick of looking at this!" She ripped the linen off and stuck the "flames" in her cousin's face. "See! See fire! You know why there's fire! Cause I buuuuurn everyone who touches me- they run the fuck away- they go off with some kind of short little dwarf with the last of Einstein's theory of relativity plastered on their fucking body and let three years go down the drain! Just like that!" She folded her arms. "Go home." She murmured. "Just… I'm sick of it. I'm sick of this whole shit show- just… go home."

Silence.

She wiped her eyes. Never mind. Whatever. Maybe she was drunk. Maybe she was heartbroken. Maybe she was just a moron.

Who knows? Whatever. Mike trying to walk like he was, was a horrible idea- he'd fall off the boardwalk and she'd have to wrestle a shark off him. Just… enough. Whatever. Fine.

The artist (truly he was- some of these pictures were unbelievable) was silent on the other side.

"My apologies sir- he's… upset: and he's an emotional drunk I'm sorry to have caused such a stir- we'll leave-. Mike let's go- I believe you've insulted him enough!" She hissed.

"You can't give up Blossy! You can't! Your soulmate's out there somewhere just because Dexter was a jackass and did that to you doesn't mean you give uuuupppp!"

… Oh that sniveling little drunken loud mouth!

Sure enough-Ink King's eyebrow rose up higher than before and he seemed to stiffen somewhat.

"Mike! Shut. UP!"

"He was a jack ass who didn't deserves you and I warned youuuuu! Didn't I warns you!? I totally warned yous! But he was a jack ass but that doesn't means you haves to give up! You can't cover your tattoo Blossy! You caaaaaaan't! Dexter was a jack ass and his new soulmate's a bitch you're better off! Seriously she called me a dumb ass! I went to Princeton damn it!"

"… Apparently their enrollment numbers must be dangerously low…" The man muttered and Blossom couldn't curb the snort. Luckily Michael was too drunk to notice.

"Shit head embarrassing my little cousin like that-!"

"…We're two weeks apart-will you just shut up!"

"A-And I couldn't stop it! And I'm –s-sorry! I know you're doings this because of meeeee- cause I couldn't stops the assholes from breakings your hearts and he did it in front of everybody's and I'm a horrible big cousins and- and-!"

"… We're two weeks apart damn it! And not for nothing I was taller than you for years shorty!"

And now he was blubbering. Her idiot cousin was almost sobbing – dear God this was the second most embarrassing day of her life… being publically dumped on a beach boardwalk and then being forced to listen to the cheering and mass applause of bystanders because "soulmates" had found each other… no… that was still first but the longer she let Michael remain here that could easily change.

She was seized in a hug- the Ink King's head went on the counter- he was clearly regretting having an "open door" policy. Blossom didn't blame him in the slightest. Mike was still rambling on and on and on…

"And look at this guuuuy! Look at him-! Look at him all covered up like that!" He bristled and Blossom slapped her brow. Mike only kept pointing indignantly- "Ya know I bet he doesn't even remember which one is his soul tattoo!" He mocked and Blossom almost melted into the floor- no seriously- would it be possible for her to spontaneously combust at the moment? Could these flames here become real? Pretty please?

The redhead looked like he was fighting the urge to chuck her moron of a drunk who was also unfortunately related to Blossom by blood out in the street… or out in the back to feed to the sharks… His nostrils flared and he lifted up his right arm irritably.

"Um yeah I do actually." He tapped his wrist irritably and oh God that look signified Michael was going to be shark chow in a second- no one liked being "questioned" about their soulmate… ugh.

She grabbed her dear cousin's shoulder and gently shoved him towards the door.

"Err- yes, yes of course you do- alright- my apologies sir I'll just… get him out of here- I am so very sorry please know this is not normal behavior for my cousin – he's just uh-." She mocked a "shot"- he rolled his eyes.

"Clearly."

"I'm a horrible cousin! I'm sorry inked dude! Your tattoos are actuallys real rad duuuuuude-!"

"Yes you are a horrible cousin right now you drunken buffoon!" Blossom snapped. The crying got worse. It was about to get terrible as soon as she got his sorry ass back to Robin and their hotel room- and oh no Blossom would not be curbing the wrath of an enraged birdy waiting in the nest.

Nope. Not at all.

"Michael… let's just go!" She snapped. "Again sorry for this sir we'll be going-."

His expression seemed off for a moment before he dug in his pocket, "Right… well here. If you're still serious about this- come back tomorrow." He murmured, she nodded and stuck the card he had extended in her pocket.

"You're not going to ban me from your shop?" She said dryly. He snorted and rolled his eyes.

"I have to deal with worse case than… that." He pointed to her idiot cousin who sometimes she felt love for, not tonight- no not tonight. But occasionally she was fond of the foolish cretin.

"I have a hard time believing that." Mike had begun loudly lamenting his apparent failure of upholding the family honor and allowing Dexter McPhearson to have proper use of his legs still.

"Tch. One word Miss. Two actually. Spring. Break."

Silence.

His eyebrow rose and he folded his arms smugly.

"Touche…" She mumbled.

"I know." Arrogant cad wasn't he- but then his face seemed to sober, "Listen… I know it's not my business but-." His eyes drifted to her hand. She bristled.

"You're right- it's not." Blossom snapped. Nosy little shit- seeing as this little tattoo shack was located right on the boardwalk and thanks to Michael's big fat mouth- clearly he had now connected the dots and figured out the identity of that "other woman" watching the uniting of "true love" and the finding of "soul mates" that had happened on such a blissful afternoon.

She'd even had to see Dexter's smug face on the ten o' clock news when all was said and done. Channel 18 had come and interviewed the "happy new couple"- Blossom and her agog face being in the background- her entire life after all had more or less been turned upside down…

All she had asked was for a lousy ice cream. She had asked her boyfriend to buy her a stupid ice cream.

… Why couldn't she just have asked for a cotton candy…?

Why couldn't Blossom have just gotten off her lazy ass and sauntered over to the ice cream shack herself!?

Oh no… just nooo- God forbid.

Idiot.

Because true love- the soul mate – conquered all- oh no- it was the basis of human life! The main goal- the greatest joy a human could feel. Didn't matter what was there before it- oh no- once the "soul mate" was found – all bets were off! So what the man in question had been in a three year relationship- and the lady in question was standing right there!

Who cared about her though- she was just irrelevant or worse- she was a meddler.

Blossom was a meddler. How was she supposed to face her students? Would it be considered unprofessional to try to purposely come down with the flu?

She sighed, oh well…. All the power to them- happy lives and whatever.

"That was bullshit." He murmured. She stiffened. But he was only shaking his head. "Fucking bull- its not like it's a "unusual" occurrence- it happens every fucking day- why the ass had to get the media involved…" He shook his head more. "Turned it into a shit show if you ask me."

"Yes well…" She shrugged "nonchalantly"- "It's the melding of soul ink…" She felt a gentle touch on her shoulder.

"It's bull – there was no reason to make it such a spectacle… I'm sorry that shit happened to you." She stiffened.

"I don't need pity thanks."

"It ain't pity. It's the truth. It was bull… and it is bull." He mumbled the last part but his gaze was piercing- strange… her stomach churned for a moment- something… of an odd feeling crept through her. She felt her cheeks warm slightly but her eyes widened and she immediately pulled away.

She was drunker than she thought. Best get back to their hotel before Mike puked all across this… young man's… clean floor. Or worse… all over these works of art hanging on the walls- it was… incredible really: for something looked down upon… this seemed… like true art in Blossom's… opinion.

Yes… true… art.

He… this young man was definitely a…definitely a true… artist.

Um… yes. She was drunk. She was clearly intoxicated. Must rescue this quaint little shop from the evils of a light weight's drinking binge. How on earth had he managed to slip away from Robin anyway!?

W-Well… she… she would find out… shortly. Yes… shortly… in time… time…

Time to go.

"That… That is very true- thank you…sir. Um… goodbye."

"Byeeeee innnnk duuuuuude! Seriously those things are raaaaaaad! How long dids it takes you anyways-!"

She grabbed her moron of a cousin's ear. He yelped.

"Michael. Move."

"But its coooooooool- maybe I should get a tattooooooo- I never knew they were sooo cooooool-!"

She pushed him out the door. And like some kind of fool she dared a glance behind her.

He was still… looking at her…albeit oddly. Her face warmed again and like an even bigger fool she gave a brief wave. He seemed to jump but nonetheless he returned it.

She felt a mysterious pounding in her chest but… she ignored that too.

She flipped the card up idly.

"Rowdy Ink"

Matthew Jojo III

"Brick"

"Brick… huh?" She mumbled and stuffed the card back in her pocket.

Her stomach was still doing some sort of odd waltz with the butterflies, she frowned.

Foolish girl. Drunken moron.

A guy like that… tch.

Clearly he was already taken.

And such is part I complete: Like I said I very much enjoyed doing this AU- and hey on downtime during vacation why not start a new project ahahaha

Hope you enjoyed my lovelies- Until next time! :D

Cheers,

Carrie