Rarepair Oneshots - Undertale AUs

Tattoo [Ink x Blue]

I have been WAITING to write this for a long time

the tattoo parlor/flower shop AU is so them

(human AU)

-💙-🤎-🎨-💙-🤎-

If there was one thing Ink hated most in life, it would be waiting. Waiting for the train, waiting for a cab, waiting for his laptop to open up, waiting for his video games to download, waiting for paint to dry, and waiting for work to be over all drove him crazy.

Patience was a virtue he had not been bestowed with, and he took everyone down with him. He didn't hate work (he adored his job, actually) but when business was slow, as it sometimes was, he found himself slowly losing his mind. His boss, a wonderful guy by the name of Gin, was pretty lenient with phones and other devices.

As long as a worker was engaged when helping a customer, he really didn't care. Ink, however, had his own, personal policy that was imposed by no one but himself. When at work, his phone stays in his bag.

Not a bad rule, just one that ended up with him trying to balance pencils on his nose when there were no customers.

It was one of the rare times that Ink was by himself in the shop. Gin always tried to have at least two people in the store at any given time, just in case things got a little chaotic.

The coworker who was supposed to be with him right now was currently at the hospital with his sister who just gave birth. Ink had gotten the text message during his train ride to the city, the poor guy was frantic and, frankly, a mess. Ink responded with a single thumbs up emoji (because, truly, he was the master of making conversation).

Working alone wasn't bad, Ink didn't give a shit either way, just boring. There was no one to talk to, the only sounds that were present was some quiet, smooth jazz coming from the store speakers and the sound of cars driving past on the street.

He had already gone around and did everything he was supposed to. He checked the bouquets for early signs of decay, checked on all of the potted plants and made sure they were all watered to the correct level, he made sure the succulents were alive and well, and did the midday sweeping.

It was routine at that point; in the two years he had been working there, he had never forgotten to do anything. Which was astounding, considering his track record. It kept his mind busy and got his hands dirty. The sensory stimulus from watering plants, touching leaves and petals and thorns, and coming into the smell of blooming flowers was incredible.

Ink nearly fell off the stool he was spinning around on, dropping his pencil to the floor. There was something he forgot to do today! It wasn't part of the job, just something he did. Ink never played favorites with things. He loved all styles of clothes, loved all artistic mediums, he could never pick a favorite form. He had his preferences, sure. He was a painter at heart, but he wouldn't say that it was his favorite.

Not when digital art, charcoal, and sculpting were all just as exquisite. However, when it came to flowers, he would choose one specific type every time.

In the back of the shop was a small greenhouse that was employees only. It stored plants and flowers that weren't ready to be put into the shop, or any plants that the workers wanted for themselves. Ink had only one plant in his section, a medium sized pot with a single flower growing out of it.

"Hello you!" Ink cooed, raising his pitch, as if he was talking to a child, or a dog. He scooped up the pot, and spun around with it in his arms before plopping himself down onto the counter where it just was. "You look beautiful today."