now if i had some tattoos

As a German proverb says ‘one shouldn’t praise the day before the evening’, so I probably shouldn’t make this post but I had such a good day and it’s not even 1pm. The doctor i met today was really nice and I felt comfortable around him, I finally got an appointment for my Lenny tattoo and it doesn’t cost as much as I feared it would, treated myself by buying a new Agatha Christie book and some nice pencils, everyone in the stores was really polite and I didn’t even panic when they asked if I need help because I was in such a good mood, and lost like 2kg and my outfit today is really cute?

Like Peppermint On Your Soul [Marry Me #1]

@ltleflrt has come to my rescue and sent me some proposal drabble ideas. I’m going to write a hundred of them.

PAIRING: Dean Winchester/Castiel
SUMMARY: Art student Castiel and Engineer Dean have been friends since undergrad, boyfriends since sophomore year. The whole time, Castiel has been using Dean’s arm as a canvas for Sharpie tattoos since Dean is afraid of needles.


“You run out of paper again?” Dean mutters, not turning his eyes away from his engineering textbook.

“No,” Castiel says distractedly. “You haven’t had a tattoo in a while. That’s sad. I’m fixing that now.”

Dean spares only a quick glance over the top of his black rimmed glasses just to make sure that nothing’s changed in the past few weeks. It hasn’t. Dean is sitting cross legged on the floor, back resting against his bed, studying. Castiel is arranging his Sharpie markers in a neat line on the floor beside him contemplating Dean’s bare arm with that squinty, considering look that Dean likes. He likes it so much he doesn’t even suggest that Castiel give in and have his eyes checked already. It’s been eight years, and the squinting lines are starting to etch permanently into his forehead. Dean likes that, too.

He also actually likes Castiel drawing on his arm. Always has. They’d been freshmen strangers, assigned to the same dorm room. A pizza, several sodas, and a late night of unpacking their belongings later, they’d talked that punch-drunk talk of already sleep deprived students. Dean had said he’d always wanted a full sleeve tattoo. Castiel had said he could help design one. Dean had flinched and said his needle phobia would never allow him to actually get it. Castiel had frowned and looked legitimately sad.

Two weeks later he’d brought out the Sharpies and given Dean his first “tattoo.” It had been an explosion of tropical flowers up his forearm with ukiyo-e styled waves cresting up his arm. Dean had been stunned at his roommate’s talent.

Every time the ink finally washed off, Castiel replaced the tattoo. Eight years of it, every one getting better and better. Castiel has a whole Instagram account dedicated to his designs and an obscene amount of people follow it. And he and Dean had stayed together from undergrad to master’s to PhD. Or, as Castiel likes to say, four apartments and two cats, and one house ago. 

They haven’t seen each other in three weeks over their extended winter break. Castiel had remained at their apartment and taken care of the cats while Dean had gone home to Kansas for his annual family visit. When he’d finally pulled the Impala into his parking space in the garage, he’d discovered a landing strip drawn in sidewalk chalk on the ground along with a massive calligraphic scrawl stating, “about time you got home.”

And Dean can tell by the way that Castiel is gripping his arm, studying the skin closely like he’s trying re-memorize it, that they’ve both been completely miserable apart. It’s like this every year, but Castiel hates getting in the way of Dean and Sam’s only weeks alone together. Dean appreciates it and hates it. He keeps sending Castiel links to jobs near Sam’s area. He’d like them all to be a family one day.

He leans over and kisses Castiel on his temple before the man really gets to work on the tattoo. If he waits, Castiel will grumble at him for even the slightest movement. For an hour.

Castiel reaches up and takes Dean’s glasses off with a frustrated face. “I love you, and I missed you.”

“Me, too.”

Castiel plants both of his hands on either side of Dean’s legs, pushing himself up onto all fours and kissing Dean on the mouth at full throttle. It never gets old. Dean is happiest knowing that this will never change between them. He shuts his book and shoves it aside.

Castiel breaks away and turns around, resolutely resting his back against Dean’s chest. Dean sighs. “No working for a while?” Castiel has taken a lot of moves out of the cats’ playbook over the years, and bullying his way into Dean’s lap is one of the classics.

In answer, Castiel bends forward to grab the remote off of the table and passes it back. "Pick a movie.”

Dean does as Castiel settles in to do some art. He raises his knees and plants Dean’s left arm across them. When he starts to draw, all of the tension leaks out of Dean, as always. Nothing relaxes him like this. Silent except for the TV, the tangy smell of Sharpies, Castiel’s even breathing, the slight itch as the markers dry on him. His limp arm being turned this way and that.

The movie is almost over when Castiel caps his last Sharpie with a loud snap. That sound is how Dean knows he’s done. “Can I look?”

Castiel turns his arm around a few more times and hums thoughtfully. “Yes.”

Dean holds his arm out. Wow. It looks… familiar on the top. “Have you done this one before?”

Castiel scratches his nose and slips out of his lap. “Yes.”

He has. It takes a minute. Then… right. It’s the same tropical flowers that Castiel had first given him. The waves. It’s a lot more detailed than it was years ago. He really has improved so much. “My first tattoo,” he murmurs, turning his arm over. Looking down the underside of his arm, he suddenly realizes why Castiel decided to revisit this one. “Yes,” he says. He wants to say it straight to Castiel’s face, but his eyes are caught by the swirling black calligraphy right against the pulse point on his inner wrist. “Yes,” he says again, stronger.

Castiel scoots forward and places his hands on Dean’s knees. “Really?” His fingers trace over the words, Marry Me.

“Hell, yeah,” Dean confirms, yanking Castiel forward for a searing kiss.

Brave

Prompt: Corey Graves asks out a coworker who normally wears long sleeves to work but when he picks her up she’s in sleeveless dress showing off her tattoos. Smut. - Anon

@blondekel77 @wweismyguiltypleasure

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Word count: 656

You change into your black clothes and throw the gray ones away. Training will start tomorrow, so you plan to find your brother. He helped you out the net moments earlier, but you had to hold back and give him nothing but a small smile. Joseph, a transfer from Erudite, already became a good friend. He made jokes about your body, that didn’t seem to be that of a shy girl from Abnegation. You made jokes about his very long hair, making he look like a boy from Amity.

“Joe, I gotta go now.”

“Yeah! To the Pit! Get some tattoos!” He screams, and every eye on the dormitory lays on both of you.

“Please, don’t freak out yet. But I have to go somewhere else.” You whispers.

“I knew it. You have it in this face of yours. It’s crystal clear. You’re that kind of person who always gets in trouble.” Joseph lays down on his bed, smirking.

“Shut up. I’ll meet you at dinner. See ya.”

 You run through the compound, not sure of where to go. Now you’re lost, walking slowly, giving up and trying to go back to the dormitory. You’re cursing yourself when you bump into someone at the corner. Luckily you only step back, looking up to bright blue eyes. He’s tall, muscular and handsome.

“What are you doing here?” His voice sends shivers down your spine, and you do the best to mask it.

“I-I was looking for my brother.” You stutter, giving up keeping the secret. It’s obvious that this wouldn’t last for so long, and it’s not your intention to pretend you don’t know Tobias. Or Four. It seems that he changed his name.

“Brother? Where are you from, initiate? ”

“Ab.” You say, reluctantly looking at the tattoo on his neck.

“Ab?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Abnegation.”

“You’re awkward.” The man looks down at you, with an amused smile.

“Thanks for your compliment.” You look down, trying not to do anything stupid.

“Who’s your…”

“Four!” You scream when you see him walking up the hall, running and jumping on his arms. “God, I missed you so much! That was the worst year of my life! I’m so happy to be here! How are you? I missed you so much, you have no idea!” You don’t stop smiling and talking, but you shut up when you notice the hard look on Four’s face while he stares at the man you were talking to.

“Why were you talking to Eric?”

Eric. It’s a good name.

“Excuse me, it’s the first time we meet in a year and your first question is why I’m talking to Eric?” You’re feeling really left aside. You love your brother more than anything, since he’s the only family is worth having. You step back, crossing your arms on your chest, pissed off.

“Sorry, (Y/N). He’s not a very nice guy.”

“I can be nice if I want to.” Eric walks to your side, with this weird smile. “You’re cute, Stiff.”

“What?” You look up at him, and Four pulls your arm, forcing you to walk away from Eric.

“Leave her alone, or else I won’t be as nice to you as I was during initiation.”

“Fine. But will she leave me alone?” he says before leaving you alone under the wrath of your brother.

“He’s such a nice guy, this Eric, don’t you think?” You try to ease the tension, smiling with the most innocent face you could fake.

“Don’t even try. I don’t want you anywhere near him. Heard me?”

“I’ll try my best.” You lie.

“Don’t lie to me, (Y/N). I know you. Stay away from troubles.” Then he hugs you tight, caressing your hair.

“And Eric means trouble, am I right?” You point out, with your voice stuffy by his coat.

“See, you can be smart when you want to.”

“I don’t know if I want to be smart about him.”

@kisu-no-hi i totally forgot to show you this! voilà mon deuxième monsieur de kisu, haha :D

the falling drop of coffee is a birthmark/pigmented spot, the coffee splashing upwards is ink \^0^/

fanny, my tattoo artist told me he’d had to remove one tiny line somewhere from your original design - i personally couldn’t spot it, but maybe you can xp

about 1 month old, design by @kisu-no-hi, tattoo by Karan Sarin at Old Rules Tattoo in Louvain. Support the artists and get your own design, folks!

now i probably need to get me some arm muscles, huh

my mom is like so swag when she was in her youth she was beauti and had guys all falling for her one of her bfs even got a tattoo of her name and proposed marriage 2 her and he kept sayin he had 10k he would spend all on her after marriage and she was like either u produce the cash now or gtfo but he lied he didn’t have it and tried to scrounge up some dough at the last min so she dumped him… somewhere out there is a guy with my mama’s name tatted on him lol I rly get a kick outta that how will I ever live up to her legacy

a-meme-loving-fuck  asked:

How does one go about getting their dog tattooed? And what's the process like for the dog? How to they make sure it doesn't move or freak out?

Well I know some vets do it but I had a friend I met through the local AKC club do mine. She’s been doing them for a long time and generally just tattoos their AKC number, or in Dakota’s (mixed breed) case my driver’s license number.

All of my adults have been taught to relax on their sides for clipping nails, brushing, etc so they were good. They got tattooed on the inner thigh and honestly showed low-no pain response in that location. The puppies now, they were a pain. It wasn’t the tattooing itself that bothered them but the restraint, and that was a matter of knowing proper holding techniques and a lot of patience.

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A couple days before, she’d said, “Oh, my right shoulder kinda hurts,” and so I’d kind of loosened it up and did some pressure points. So when I got the tattoo, I said, “Oh my left shoulder really hurts,” and she said, “Wouldn’t it be funny if you tear off your shirt and you’ve got my name emblazoned on your shoulder.”

Robert Downey Jr., on how he didn’t tell his then-fiancée Susan Levin he had gotten ‘SUZIE Q’ tattooed on his arm.

Happy 10th Anniversary, Robert and Susan!

anonymous asked:

hey i was wondering if the "reject cool" part in your bio comes from anywhere? it resonates with me a lot and im thinking about getting it tattooed

just the “get sad stay rad reject cool be nice” ethos, although sometimes i say resist. it’s just some phrase i started putting out with crywank when i first started. Its funny now i see loads of it on like screenprints and totes and stuff. Maybe it’s people who have had the same thought process, maybe it’s just people ripping me off. i don’t mind too much either way. Sometimes I say resist cool instead of reject. I fluctuate. rambling, high, sorry.

When I first started watching Daredevil, I was very interested in the Ranskahov brothers’ tattoos, so when I finally had some free time, I tried to decode them. It has taken embarrassingly many hours, but now I now present you with the highly dubious information I’ve managed to gather. It’s not much, but it’s something.

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i love this weekend and i love that today the weather is Summer.. the window is open and i didnt need a jacket. when i left friday morning it was glove weather and no flowers, now there is blue squill and crocuses everywhere! i love it! also i got myself a tattoo from bitch ink :)) and it was very nice to hang out with moa !! when i came home jonny had bought a tasty cheese and wine. today i was lying on the asphalt with some friends at lunch and when we had to go i looked up at them against the blue blue sky and i loved them so much! so much love now!

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oops my hand slipped

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Two years ago I was so secretly depressed. I was self harming and I hated myself, my life, basically everything except music. But I didn’t really tell anyone and the people I did tell thought after a day or so it was gone and I kept promising I’d stop hurting myself so they left me alone with it. I got these lyrics because I remember faking so much, my smile, my laugh, my happiness in general and eventually I quite literally lost my laugh. To this day I have like 7 different laughs because I just haven’t picked up one singularly. When I was younger I was basically known for being loud and funny and able to make anyone laugh, but I lost that along the way. When I heard these lyrics for the first time I was so in love I knew I had to get them tattooed somewhere, some how. This tattoo means so much to me because now whenever I’m down, or angry, or stressed, I can look at my arm and remember that I’ll laugh again eventually and I’m going to continue to be me and be happy. Also, this tattoo is NOT upside down, it’s facing me because it’s for ME because I wanted to be able to read the message that means so much to ME, and not a passer by to read with ease. These lyrics are from the song Through the Dark by One Direction and if anyone has any negative comments about the source of my goddamn happiness then you can kindly bugger off. This band means the world to be and it will not be my only tattoo related to them. With that said, I’m so relieved to have gotten this tattoo I’ve waited so long for and I couldn’t be happier.
@1dtattoos

Declan and I were waiting in line at the grocery store. The guy in front of us looked to be about my age, and he was there with his son, who looked to be about the same age as Declan. He looked pretty nondescript—baseball cap, t-shirt, cut-off denim shorts. Then I noticed his battered high-top Chucks and his tattoos. It was when I saw what some of his tattoos were that I realized he and I had a lot in common.
I wanted to say something, like: “Hey, nice squatter’s rights tattoo. Let me show you my anarchy symbol tattoo.”
I wanted to say something, like: “It’s weird, isn’t it? We were punks and anarchists, squatters and trainhoppers, and now we’re at the grocery store with these tiny humans we are responsible for. We’re still punks, still anarchists, but no one can tell anymore unless they look closely at our tattoos.”
—  Jessie Lynn McMains, from Reckless Chants #24: Snapshots of Ghosts

anonymous asked:

how would you write the confrontation with natsu and lucy? as in the moment when lucy finally has a breakdown and explodes at natsu :(

How I would write it? Well. Well well well. Ok fuck it I can’t resist.
Because it’s been too long since I’ve written some in-canon angst. >:]

“What… what is this?”

Lucy stared at his arm, transfixed by the patterns of the tattoo-like black space beneath. Her voice had been less a question and more pure, panicked fear, because she knew all too well what this was.

Something bad.

She had seen it before just now, because it had been unable to overlook - in everybody’s view through the entirety of Natsu’s fight. It had been covering half of Gray’s body. Well, it was not exactly the same. Still, both were gooey, black, evil, like liquified maliciousness that was eating away at their skin.

It sure as hell was nothing good.

Clumsily, Natsu tried to push the bandage that had partly come off in his fight against Gray back upwards.

“Nothing.”

Wendy and Juvia stood silent as she stepped closer to him, every bodypart trembling in barely contained fury. He couldn’t bear looking at her all of a sudden, oh but he could smell the tears in her eyes.

And then she slapped him.

It hit hard, and good, and it hurt more like any kick or punch he had received by even the vilest enemy - and he felt like he deserved it.

But above all, he felt confused.

His hurt eyes found hers for only the fraction of a second, and her face was just as shocked as his. Then she turned on her heels and ran out of the room without another word.

It remained dead silent in the chamber, nobody moving or even breathing for a few seconds. Natsu didn’t dare look at anbody.

Finally, slowly, his own legs started moving, and he took a few unsure steps. Then he started running too.

The day was warm and sunny, the midday sun shining brightly onto his path. Lucy’s scent hung thick in the air with every of his single-minded steps. Neither the songs of the birds nor the rustling of the treetops really reached his ears.

All he could see were her eyes. It was the only thing before his mind’s eye, a constant companion as he stalked through the woods.

When he found her, she was pacing up and down a small clearing, jumping when a few twigs snapped under his feet. Her eyes looked just as they had haunted him throughout his short walk: big, full of sorrow and regret.

“Oh god I’m so sorry. Natsu, I’m so - I shouldn’t have - I don’t know why - I’m sorry!”

Natsu approached with caution. He wasn’t entirely sure how to react to her - he’d never seen Lucy like this.

“Lucy… what’s wrong?”

His lack of anger seemed to send her into an even worse state of mind. She just shook her head, sending tears flying to either side.

“I’m so sorry.”

He said nothing, just waited for her to collect what was to collect of herself. It took her a few deep breaths.

“It’s just… you never talk. Why - why didn’t you just tell me?”

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I know she isn’t one of the Great Scarrier Reef girls, but I had been saving this Lagoonafire project for a while and now just seemed like the perfect time to complete her! Since I am on this big aquatic kick right now (I blame it on being an Aquarius!)

Anyways, this is Coy, because I am a horrible person who loves puns haha. She got a rather dramatic body overhaul, and i couldn’t resist adding some goldfish tattoos either ;)

ghoulvoided replied to your post: the context for tht tribal tattoo post is cause if…

I live in NZ and I’m honestly so glad that I haven’t met any white people with proper tribal tattoos. My ex had some tribal styled ones (Pokemon designs & his starsign) and that’s iffy enough as it is :/ I was actually talking to one of my friend’s who’s Maori the other day and we had a huge discussion about cultural appropriation wrt Maori/Islander culture and tradition etc

yeah its….eck. im glad nowhere i live, especially now in hawaii, i havent seen any white people personally with tribal tattoos which is a blessing. people dont realize it but tattoos have always been an integral part of islander culture and like….those patterns actually mean things….they have actual stories but everyone else just thinks its some cool print to wear as an accessory when its not