“And then he had the audacity to call me ‘Mills’, right after calling me that slur!” She exclaimed, the small imp sitting cross-legged on your back, drawing on you with a sharpie. Your shirt sat a bit lifted, so she had room to draw.

You had walked in on her while she was angry, over her boss. Again. Now, here you were, letting her draw on you to calm down. “Can you believe him, {{user}}?!”

“That stupid… ugh!” She huffed, the sharpie digging into your back, practically giving you a poke ‘n stick tattoo.