Betty Boop Tattoo Meaning Novels & Stories

I heard his voice in my head calling me Bird Dog and my laughing about his silly responses to my never answered question. A meager smile tugged at my lips. I turned my head to see signs of sadness on her face that mirrored my own. "What did that stupid tattoo mean?" Her brow creased in contemplation. "The Chinese symbol on his arm." Her laugh startled me. It broke through the rain and the gloom like a clap of thunder. "Oh, sweetie." She huffed out a cackle as though the mere thought of it made her want to roll her eyes. "It didn't mean a damn thing. The day he turned eighteen he insisted on getting a tattoo with his friends. He walked into the tattoo parlor and picked it off a wall. When I a

A first step in removing her taint from his soul was to remove her name from his flesh. * * * Milli sat in the chair next to Lloyd, she seemed completely calm as the woman tattooist put filigree swirls and flowers over her cesarean scar. She had ‘Charlie’ and his birth date added in a looping scrolling script. Milli told the woman part of her story and the woman had opened up about all her struggles. Milli listened, and by the end, both were teary and hugging. The guy who owned the shop was finishing creating a tartan plaid on the ribbon to cover Antonia’s name. He smiled slightly as Milli followed the woman into another room to have her tattoo’s picture taken.

The water hits my back at just the right temperature and I move my hand over my back but then I move my hand to my wrist. I look at it with a sad smile on my face when I see the tattoo I'd gotten. It is an infinity tatoo , in the infinity are two butterflies on either side each one representing the each family member I lost . And the only one I had well that was until my uncle and aunt lived with me in ghe mansion and treated me like their own.

She lifts her hand, caressing my side and draws little circles on my birthmark. “This is cute. And it will be your tell if I had to recognize you again.” I laugh as I kiss her hand again. “This would be yours then.” She covers the small tattoo on her hips, before I can reach it. “Don’t. It was so stupid of me to get these. Now I have a problem any time I go to the beach with my family.” “Does it mean anything?” She shakes her head. “Just freedom, in a wider sense.” Lifting her hand, she lets me see the little stars again.

“Yeah? Maybe once my ass is healed you can turn the puncture wound into one of them cool, fake bullet holes you see on motorcycles and pickup tailgates.” “Please. I’m an artiste. I have something way better in mind. Something hip-fun-sexy-cool.” Suspicion clouded Colt’s face. “I already told you. You ain’t tattooing the area around my nipples. Ever.” “But this new pattern is so awesome. Turquoise and orange outlined in black and red, that looks like flames—” “No way, no how.” “Just hear me out.” “Dammit, Indy, I said no. Why are you so dang fired up about doin’ this?”

At least he had a shirt on that day. Then something caught my eye. On his left pec, near his heart, there was now a tattoo. Unconsciously I stepped forward so I could get a closer, better look at the newly designed tattoo. It was the name 'Baby B' in cursive italics. Under the name were two red roses in the form of an 'x'. My fingers were itching to touch the newly done tattoo but I knew better.

She asks, and I nod. “Well, that is a one sexy fairy….” She smirks, and I blush slightly. I get so flustered whenever she says things like that because I am in no way sexy. Beautiful? Sure, I can accept that, but she’s definitely the sexy one. My little fairy was the second tattoo I ever got after my butterfly. They kinda were a set deal. Well, all of my tattoos have a special meaning, even the one on my butt that both Lia and I got when we were drunk. I would usually be embarrassed by something like that, but since she has my name on her butt, I can live with it.

Feeling a little sweaty suddenly, I put the bouquet down where her grandmother motioned for me to do so. "I gotta tell you," Betty said as we both took seats next to her bed now. "You always know who's gonna turn out good kids and who's not. Your daddy and grandma done good with you boys, despite what all the talk in town's always been. Your mama dying at such an early age of your lives couldn't have been easy. And I don't care what my uptight daughter thinks. I think all those tattoos suit you boys just fine. Just don't get any on your face. It's too pretty to muck up."

My mind buzzed, refusing to process any of it. The pumpkin tattoo in the photo was identical to the one on my wrist. I’d gotten it with my best friend, Lily Green. We both loved a niche gothic animation—the ever-grinning pumpkin figure in it had become our symbol of friendship. Lily had said, “Sophie, look at him. No matter how bad things get, he’s always smiling. We should be like that too.” And now, that tattoo had become evidence against me.

Adam's tattoo was a design of a one-winged butterfly. "It's a reminder of something important to me," Adam said. "Something that I carry with me every day. A reminder of the struggles that I had to face in my life.” Adam's black eyes shone at her, as Althea felt him draw nearer to her. She didn't move an inch and kept looking at him. Althea's fingers traced the lines of the tattoo, and she felt a strange sense of connection to it, as if she could understand the meaning behind it just by touching it.