One of the biggest benefits of being an adult is that you can do whatever you want (of course, as long as you are within the boundaries of the law). You can wear whatever you desire and look however you please.
Amber Luke is a girl that took her individuality to the next level, without caring one bit about what others think of her.
This Australian 24-year-old aims to cover her entire body with tattoos before turning 25. And now she is one step closer to her goal – as she has covered her breasts with ink, reports the Daily Star.
Amber’s journey to cover herself with tattoos started when she was 16. Her fascination with ink was something that would change her entire life.
Over the years, Amber has got tattoos all over her body.
She has really done everything in her power to get as much ink in her as possible. She has covered most of her body with tattoos.
It has not been a smooth process, last year when she tattooed her eyes, things almost ended terribly.
“Unfortunately, my artist went too deep into my eyeball. I was blind for three weeks. That was pretty brutal”.
The alternative model has also opened up about the fact that she has been struggling with mental illness. She is currently training to be a counsellor – she hope she can help others with similar problems in the future.
“Society is so full of hatred and invalid opinions of you and what you look like… You wouldn’t bother to ask what I do with my life – I’m studying a diploma of counselling just to be able to assist people’s mental illnesses,” Amber told Daily Star.
Now on her breasts
The latest step in Amber’s quest to be completely covered in tattoos was doing it on her breasts.
“Completed tiddies,” Amber wrote to her 64,600 Instagram followers while proudly displaying the result.
Amber Luke before pictures
Next in her list are her thighs. But Amber is already thinking of tattooing her entire left arm black.
But of course, Amber has not always been covered in ink.
Just a few days ago, she shared a photo from her past life that revealed how she looked like a blonde.
The picture, taken 5 years ago, really shows what an incredible transformation she has undergone!
”5 years difference. Let me tell you something… at 20 years old I got a ‘floating neck’ tattoo. I had no facial or hand or chest tattoos. Just a big throat piece. I was given so much shit and hate for my actions. I decided at 20 to say ‘fuck ya’ll, I’m getting what I want too’ and I went for it,” she wrote.
Here at Newsner, we don’t just write about heartwarming and trending stories. We also follow people who live their lives differently, and it is our opinion that everyone deserves the same respect no matter how they choose to live their lives!
I Discovered Hotel Receipts in My Husband’s Car, Uncovering a Heartbreaking Truth — but Karma Took Its Toll on Him Severely
This shift in his pattern piqued my curiosity and concern. One weekend, while Derek was out visiting a friend, I decided to clean his car—a task that he usually took upon himself.
As I vacuumed the interior and wiped down the dashboard, I stumbled upon a stack of receipts tucked away in the glove compartment. My hands trembled slightly as I unfolded them, revealing charges for a hotel room right here in our town. The dates on these receipts coincided perfectly with the days he claimed to be out of town for work.
My initial instinct was to rationalize these findings. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation, like a mix-up with the receipts or perhaps he was helping out a friend in need. But as much as I wanted to dismiss my growing suspicions, the seeds of doubt had already been planted deep in my mind.
Determined to get to the bottom of this, I started to pay closer attention to Derek’s comings and goings. I started noting the times he left the house and the purported destinations for his business trips.
My scrutiny extended to collecting any and all receipts I could find—whether they were casually discarded in his pockets or left behind in his car. Most were mundane, everyday purchases, but every so often, another hotel receipt would surface among them, each one like a small jolt to my heart.
This pattern continued, each receipt adding weight to the uneasy feeling settling in my chest. The more I found, the more the pieces began to form a picture I was afraid to confront.
Yet, despite the mounting evidence, I hadn’t brought up my concerns with Derek. I was torn between not wanting to believe my husband could be deceiving me and the growing realization that I needed to address these doubts somehow.
The next few days were filled with a thick tension that seemed to permeate our home. Derek’s comings and goings became even more erratic, and his excuses grew increasingly flimsy. “I have to leave urgently,” he’d announce abruptly, and I’d nod, feigning indifference. But inside, my suspicion and resentment were building to a crescendo.
One evening, fed up with the lies, I decided to follow him. He left the house in a rush, barely managing a goodbye. I waited a few minutes before I quietly slipped into my car and trailed behind him from a safe distance.
My heart pounded as I drove, each turn he took adding to the tight knot of anxiety in my stomach. He didn’t head towards the office or any business district; instead, he pulled into the parking lot of the same hotel from the receipts.
I parked a little way off and made my way to the lobby, trying to blend in with the crowd. I found a discreet spot near the elevators from where I could observe without being seen.
It wasn’t long before I saw him—Derek, my husband, the father of my children—walking side by side with a woman. They were laughing, touching each other’s arms intimately, and then they embraced, a long, passionate hug that made my heart sink.
The shock of seeing them together, so close, so personal, was nearly overwhelming. My hands shook with a mix of anger, sorrow, and disbelief. Driven by a surge of adrenaline, I stepped out from my hiding spot and confronted them. The look on their faces was priceless—shock, guilt, fear—it was all there. Derek stammered, and tried to explain, but I didn’t want to hear any of it.
The next few days were a blur of arguments, tears, and revelations. It turned out that the woman was more than just a fling; Derek had believed they had something special.
But the ultimate betrayal came when I learned from a mutual friend that, shortly after our breakup, she had scammed him. She had persuaded Derek to open a joint account under the guise of starting a new life together. Then, without warning, she withdrew every penny and disappeared, leaving him devastated and financially ruined.
This revelation didn’t bring me any satisfaction. Instead, there was a hollow feeling of vindication mixed with immense sadness for the chaos that now surrounded what was once a family united. Derek was a broken man, deceived by someone he trusted, just as he had deceived me.
In the wake of our separation, I found myself reevaluating everything that had happened. Our home felt different, and emptier, as I dealt with the aftermath of Derek’s actions on our marriage and our family’s financial stability. The prenup, once a simple precaution, now seemed like a prescient safeguard that protected what little I had left for our children’s future.
Derek’s affair and the subsequent scam had not only ended our marriage but had also left him in ruins. It was a painful irony that he was duped in much the same way he had deceived me. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him—he was, after all, the man I had once loved deeply.
Now, as I stand in the quiet of what used to be our shared living room, I realize the depth of the betrayal and the indelible mark it has left on my life. Moving forward won’t be easy, but it’s necessary. For me, for our kids, and even for Derek, the path to healing is going to be a long one, but it starts with stepping out of the shadows of deception and reclaiming my life, one day at a time.
Leave a Reply