first place tattoos

3

It’s 4am I can’t sleep, so have a mini sketch dump of old Sasuke drawings.

Just because.

I wanted to write some fluff and I did it.
I still feel like this isn´t my best work, maybe also because I´m beyond tired but I still have to go out later. Ugh. (Ugh not because I don´t wanna go out, bbut because I´m always tired. It´s annoying af)

I didn´t want to have time to proof read this, so please be gentle. 

p.s: Roomates going to be up either tomorrow or on sunday but I have to write the party and it´s hard because I´m trying to make it super fluffy and yet somehwo cool.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warning: fluff, angst

Length: 1463 Words

Originally posted by justaboutsupernatural

Enjoy! 

Are you Dean Winchester´s ex girlfriend?”
You looked up from your phone and stared at the girl that had just walked over from across the bar to ask you the question you hated most in the world.
She looked vaguely familiar, you had probably met her in a hunter´s bar before, maybe was someone´s daughter.
“That´s what my ID says”, you answered sarcastically and the girl tilted her head: “Seriously?”
You didn´t know what to say to something this stupid so you just made a gesture as if you were shooing a fly away and said: “Please, fuck off!”
The other girl looked pretty offended, but you couldn´t care less and just stared back at your phone, trying to concentrate on the newest case you had found online, but couldn´t.
You cursed that girl for bringing Dean up again and you cursed yourself for caring so much.
Even though you hadn´t seen Dean in months, he kept coming back into your life with dumb little bitches like that girl.
Of course you knew that Dean was some kind of celebrity in the hunter scene and you also knew that back in the days, when you still had been with Dean, you had become known around here too, but you had never imagined that one day people would start referring to you as Dean Winchester´s ex girlfriend.
It was humiliating, to say the least.
Especially since you tried everything to forget that you ever even knew Dean.
Which was hard, considering that you had been together with him for three years.
The breakup, aka the worst day of your life, flashed before your eyes again without you being able to do anything with it.


“You´re not actually doing this, are you?”, he shouted, staring at you angrily, balling his hands into fists at the side of his body.
You stuffed the rest of your stuff into your overloaded suitcase: “Dean, I just don´t see this happening anymore.”
“Why?”, he said, even louder than before and you closed the zipper and looked at him, feeling a little sad too, but you were over it already, had replayed this conversation in your head so many times that it felt like a dream.
“Are you really asking me why I do this?”, you asked, feeling exhausted.
“Of course I do. This is madness”, he gave back and you sighed: “That you don´t know why I have to do this, is part why I have to do this.”
He rolled his eyes: “You´re being ridiculous, just drop that suitcase and we can talk it out.”
“No, we can´t. We can´t because we never talk about anything, you never talk about anything.
Our relationship has gone from something special to something that feels like we´re ex college roommates who decided to live together after college and now have our own lives.
That´s ridiculous, not me.”
It felt right to say it out loud finally, the concern that had been on your mind for weeks now.
He frowned: “You want to talk? That´s what this is all about? That you want to talk?”
“Yes Dean, this is about me wanting to talk. I´m tired of you shutting me out because you feel like it, and I´m done”, you made your way to the door but he grabbed your wrist.
“Fine”, he said and you looked into his eyes, “let´s talk.”
You pulled your hand free and shook your head: “It´s too late, Dean.”


It had been almost two months after that breakup and you were regretting that step terribly.
At first it had felt right, like you were finally getting rid of something that dragged you down, but as the weeks rolled around, you started missing him more than you had thought you would.
You missed him when you were hunting, missed your partner that had always been there, you missed him when you were laughing about something he would have found funny too and you missed him when you went to bed alone every night.
Your glass was now empty, the stupid girl was gone and you pulled out some cash to pay the bartender before heading out into the cold October air.
While you zipped up your jacket, you thought about finding a case in California or anywhere else where it was a little warmer than in Maine.
It wasn´t far to the motel that you had decided to stay in and since you strictly were against drinking and driving you walked the short distance.
You tried thinking about something else, but your last words “It´s too late, Dean”, echoed trough your head.
It was pretty ironic that you had said them in the first place because you had tattooed: “It´s never too late”, on your left rib cage.

You thought about that a lot, about the fact that maybe, if you had given him the chance, he would have turned it around, but then again he probably wouldn´t have.
He wasn´t the kind of guy to change for a girl.
You arrived at the parking lot of the motel and scanned your pockets for the keys before you stopped dead in your tracks, getting the biggest shock of your entire life.
Right in front of you, only a few feet away from your door, stood a sixty-seven Impala and not just some Impala but Deans.
You would have recognized that car anywhere.
Quick, shallow breaths made it hard to focus on what you should do.
You couldn´t drive, not now that you had something to drink, so you would have had to hide out in your room.
Without thinking twice, you hurried towards your door and then again searched for the goddamn keys before you heard a voice behind you that let your blood freeze in your veins:
“(Y/N)?”
You didn´t turn around, didn´t need to. You knew who that was, you never knew a voice better than his.
“Dean”, you said and finally turned around, facing him.
He had changed, seemed older, more mature.
It was weird to see him because part of you really wanted to kiss him.
Instead you just stood there in the cold, hugging yourself and feeling like everything was going to explode.
“Are you working a case here?”, he asked you and put his hands in his pockets as if he was freezing too. You knew that this was his nervous-gesture.
“Yeah”, you said and the moment was filled with awkwardness.
“Uhm… Do you wanna come in or something?”, he asked and you knew that this was maybe your last chance to make this right ever.
And before you could think of something else, you nodded and he took a step back so you could slip past him into the motel room.
It was finally warm in here and you pulled off your jacket before standing in the middle of the room like an idiot, feeling like it would be too familiar if you would sit on the bed.
“So…”, you said. “So…”, he said and then smiled a bit, making you smile too.
“Wow, I´ve missed that smile”, he said bluntly and you frowned while keeping to smile.
He held up his hand: “Hey, you remember how you wanted to me to talk more? I practiced. Now I´m telling anyone everything.”
You knew that is was supposed to be a joke, but somehow it reminded you of why you shouldn´t be here and you shook your head:
“Dean, I´m tired. I should leave.”
But he moved in front of the door before you could reach it: “Wait!”
You stood very close to him now and your heart was beating fast because this was everything it wanted.
Just your head told a different story.
“Why?”, you whispered and he closed his eyes for a second, seeming like he had really practiced this for a long time.
“Because I want you back. Because I missed you so bad. Because I made a mistake. Because I know that back then, you had been the one walking away, but I had already left at that point.
Because I´m sorry. Because you belong to me. Because I love you.
Because… Just because.”
This felt silly, like something out of a romance novel and you felt like you should just leave right now, but the problem was that you didn´t want to.
Instead you leaned up and kissed him, just kissed him, plain and simple didn´t say anything, just let the moment speak for itself.
When it was over, your pulse was racing and you still felt like you made a huge mistake, but when he pulled you into a big hug and said: “Oh and because of that of course”, you knew that younger you had been right.
It really never was too late.



Hey tumblr! So yesterday (Friday) I got a new piece of ink!:) when I was younger my grandpa would always take me to watch the planes take off, the old fashioned ones, near our town. So I decided in highlight of those memories I would add this lovely piece of art to my body. And I love it!
Thanks to Ev Jones at First Place Tattoos in New Jersey :)

anonymous asked:

Question: Alright, I am a journalist and really like the idea of getting a pencil tattoo. I don't think it is cliche and really like the idea of it on the side of my index finger. You always seem to dislike finger tattoos, especially as a first one. I have no other tattoos. What is it that makes finger tattoos bad to begin with? Do you like my idea? Where could other placements me? Thank you.

First of all, it’s disrespectful to tattooing traditions. Tattooing has a long history and traditionally, the hands, neck, and face are to be tattooed last. Traditionally, you first tattoo in places easily covered by clothes (chest, back, legs) before working your way down your arms. Eventually, when you’re already covered with tattoos, you get your hands tattooed. In a way, it’s showing that you are truly committed to living the tattooed life.

Secondly, it looks stupid to have bare arms and hand/finger tattoos.

Lastly, and most importantly, having tattoos on your hands limits your job opportunities exponentially. There is no way to cover hand tattoos, especially since wearing gloves is only appropriate in a very tiny percentage of jobs. Any other place on the body (except for the face and neck of course) can be covered by dressing modestly. Getting a tattoo in one of the most visible places possible before you have any idea what living with tattoos is like is a very bad idea, especially for young people. Many, many jobs will see hand tattoos as automatic no-no’s because of how visible they are.

4/4 Preference: He Finds Your Hidden Tattoo

requested by anon

requests are open // masterlist

Luke:

You paced the room quietly, waiting for your date to pick you up. You and Luke had gone on a few dates before, but you were always nervous right before. It was just a habit of yours.

The doorbell rang, and you collected yourself before answering it.

“Hey,” You smiled, looking up at Luke. He was a shy boy, but you found it was one of his best qualities. His quiet presence was calming.

Luke took you to the movies, but you didn’t want to be there. Luke had kissed you a few times, but you hadn’t really ever kissed. He had his arm around you, and you rested your head on his shoulder. You found that he kept sneaking glances down at you, and you found you did the same to him. You were tired of sitting and trying to watch the movie, and since you two were sitting in the back of the theatre, you took your chance. You leaned up and kissed his chin, and then looked away, smiling. Luke looked down with a smile, and he kissed you back on the cheek. Soon, after playing a small game of tag with your lips, the two of you kissed.

The theatre was practically empty when you climbed into Luke’s lap. You were wearing high waisted jeans and a black crop top. Luke’s hands rested on your waist, and soon the two of you decided to head to his car. He took your hand and the two of you practically ran down the steps and out of the theatre.

Once you were in his car, you didn’t hesitate to begin kissing again. His hands roamed up and down your back, and you prayed he wouldn’t find the tattoo on your collarbone. It was 5 tally marks— like the symbol for Luke’s band— that you had gotten when you were drunk. You begged that he wouldn’t find it, but it was inevitable. His lips roamed down your neck and hit your collar, and he discovered the ink.

“What’s this?” He asked, pulling your shirt down a little. You froze, trying to think of an explanation.

“It’s a tattoo,” You replied.

“I know that, but why is it the 5 symbol? Does it mean something?” You knew he was hinting at the fact that it was used for his band.

“I got it when I was drunk,” You confessed, “I actually really like your band’s music, and around this time last year I was at a party and a friend of mine, who happens to be a tattoo artist, gave me that when I begged her.” Luke smiled up at you, his blue eyes cheerful.

“I kinda like it,” Luke whispered, planting a kiss on your tattoo. You smiled, relieved that Luke didn’t find the tattoo to be weird.

Ashton:

“I’m home!” Ashton called into your shared apartment.

“Hey babe, I’m in the kitchen!” You called back as you were cooking a meal for you and your boyfriend. You two had just recently moved in together, and you always made dinner. You loved to cook, and you were in culinary school at the time.

“How was your day?” He asked, coming over to hug you.

“It was nice,” You reply, giving Ashton a quick kiss. You turned around and bent down to grab something from the bottom cabinet.

“Babe, what’s that on your back?” Ashton asked. Your eyes widened in realization.

“Its.. uh… well…” You stuttered, “A tattoo…”

“A tattoo? When did you get that?”

You had to come clean. “I got it last week.” You put your hand over the song lyrics that were now written on your lower back.

“Can I read it?” Ashton asked. You nodded, and Ashton walked up and kneeled down to look at them. “We’re never gonna quit it,” He read out loud.

“Chocolate, the 1975,” You reply quietly. Ashton smiled.

“I think it’s cute.”

Michael:

Michael smiled down at you as you slept next to him. The night before had been a drunk blur, and despite the regret he had for giving himself a splitting headache of a hangover, he didn’t regret the girl he had taken home. From what he could remember, she was an amazing kisser, and an amazing smooth talker. She had his tongue tied in knots when he first saw her, and it took a few drinks for him to loosen up and feel comfortable around her.

Now, as you slept, Michael got a closer look at you. He realized your face was prettier than it was last night. He wanted to see what the rest of you looked like, but he didn’t want to wake you.

Suddenly, you started to stir. Michael didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t want you to leave him when you realized how much better you could have done. He was convinced you were going to leave the minute you saw him, since he thought he was about a 4, and you were definitely a solid 12.

“Where am I?” You asked, looking at Michael groggily. He smiled at you and tried to look his best. “Michael? Is that your name?”

“Yeah,” Michael smiled, “And you’re (Y/N).”

“Yeah,” You replied, “What happened last night? I mean, I know what happened, but I’m not exactly sure how I ended up in your bed.” Michael was silent as he studied you some more. “Do you have a bathroom?”

“Right there,” Michael said, pointing to the door next to him. You climbed out of bed, your pants discarded somewhere on the ground. You were in your underwear and a t shirt that looked like it belonged to Michael.

As you walked to the bathroom, Michael noticed a small black design near your hip.

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing. You pulled your underwear down a bit to reveal your only tattoo.

“It’s a tattoo I got a few years ago,” You replied, “I’m still not sure why, to be honest.”

Michael smiled. With every new minute that came, he was starting to realize you were his dream girl. Random tattoos, great sex, an amazing kisser— how could he not love this?

When you came out of the bathroom, smiling at Michael, he knew it was right.

“You have a playstation? I’m living here forever!”

Calum:

“Hi, I’m Calum, and I think you’re stunning. Can I buy you a drink?”

One sentence. This one sentence caused you to go home with an unknown guy with great hair, an amazing body, and a pretty sweet car.

After driving to his apartment, this Calum guy had you melting in your tracks. There was just something about him that drew you to him, and you couldn’t explain it. You wanted to do anything for him. He was perfect.

Soon, you two were sitting on his couch, your bodies tangled in wet kisses and roaming hands. Calum pushed your shirt up a bit to reveal the bottom of your ribs. His thumb rubbed over the small tattoo of a crescent moon you had there. It was a tattoo you wanted to get rid of, since you hadn’t intended to get a tattoo in the first place.

“Nice tattoo,” He whispered into your ear as he nibbled lightly, causing shivers to go down your spine.

“Th-thanks,” You stuttered, trying to contain yourself.

“You know, I was thinking about getting one just like it,” He whispered again, “If you think this could be a regular thing. I kinda like you.”