Ignorant Tattoos Novels & Stories

"However today, everything changed as I discovered you're actually a half-witted, harebrained, idiot whose silicone breasts had crawled to impair her brain." Scarlet's jaw dropped to the floor. She opened her mouth but before she could even say a word, I cut her off. "Have you heard of hypoallergenic tattoo ink? Based on your startled reaction I dare say you didn't. Perhaps you should have checked it on the internet first before marching here to accuse me of being fake just because of my tattoos." My voice thundered across the room, intimidating Scarlet who now stood on her place with her face, ears and neck turning crimson.

V GOD! His chest is a-fucking-mazing! I won't be mad if he never wears another shirt. GASPS! O.M.G! Did he really..? "You got my name tattooed on you?!" I excitedly shriek. He has 'MY KEYA' tattooed on his abs in Old English font. Curved kinda like how Tupac has 'Thug Life' tattooed on his abs! Wow he must be really crazy about me! I am starting to fall for this guy, hard!

- he said, looking at his body in surprise and a little indignantly. Beneath that gorgeous abs were muscular, strong thighs, and in the back, firm and firm... erm... well... just like a nut! And above this very bottom part of the nut was ... Tattoo! All the way back!!! She went from the very bottom of the back to the cervical vertebrae, slightly touching the shoulders. The tattoo, which was most surprising, was black and red and depicted some symbols, the meaning of which he did not know. There was also an inscription in a language that no one but the initiates knows. Alrian.

Only one wolf could claim each creature. No one in the pack knew his spiritual animal—not even his Beta. While most sixteen-year-olds reveled in the ceremony of choosing their magical tattoos, displaying them proudly on their upper chests, Magnus had kept his tattoo a secret. The tattoo artist who had etched it decades ago was long dead, and the mystery only fueled the pack's fear of him. Alphas with visible tattoos were terrifying enough, their animals able to burst into life during battle. But an Alpha whose tattoo was a mystery? That was a whole other level of menace, Or maybe they just thought he was weird. Hard to tell sometimes.

“Don’t worry, I will fuck that rigidity and shyness out of your tiny pussy. I look forward to see what you will turn into in bed.” With he finally undressing himself, I suddenly spot a tattoo right below his navel. It’s an Eastern script, meaning “fortune” and “fate”. It looks exactly like the one that my cohort told me about, the one that she warned me of. I freeze. “Are you OK? Are you ready to do this right now?” Kent checks with me. I inhales deeply, and then look up to him to tell him that I just changed my mind: “No, Kent. I can’t sleep with you now.”

I also had a few buttons undone on my bottom shirt to show off some of my tattoos and my sculpted muscles. I have a lot of tattoos on my body they each mean something. The one on my bicep is in Latin 'Obsidian est vita mea' which means My life is obsidian. On my back, chest, and stomach I have some tattoos related to my family, my inner gang, and to my gang. I have some on my hands but they represent me and some of the ones on my arm. I leave my room to find my inner gang. I find all of them in the living room drinking some of my very expansive bourbon.

I hear him curse at me as I'm knocked on my ass. "Watch where you're walking," His voice is a growl and so not appreciated after the time I've had. I look up to see a face I don't recognize. Someone completely unknown to me. I open my mouth to tell him exactly what's on my mind-none of it is nice mind you-and I abruptly stop when I catch sight of the tattoo on his inner forearm. A tattoo I've seen many times on many different people. It's an oddly shaped star of sorts with what looks like two scythes circling it. A very specific type of tattoo. A specific gang tattoo. A tattoo I'm all too familiar with.

I ask him. " On my back. And it says the heart can be darker too. And free drugs. I was seventeen then." He says and I smile. " Second?" " Omertà." He answers. " You know I actually thought that was supposed to be your first tattoo." " Nah. My dad never wanted me to have that in case I decided to leave the mob." He says. " And what does the Arabic tattoo mean? And why Arabic?" I ask. " I like them and the language. And the meaning; It means 'my soul is darker than night'. The other one is 'angels don't die'."

Tired of pretending the holidays didn’t take every insecurity I owned and amplify it by ten. The worst part was that I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore. Not really. Just that I needed space. Somewhere, I wasn’t being watched. Somewhere, I didn’t feel like a progress report. Somewhere I could exist without explanation. I reached for my phone again. I wasn’t planning anything dramatic. This wasn’t a breakdown. This was a browse. A harmless scroll. Completely reasonable behaviour. I opened a travel app. France appeared almost immediately, as if it had been waiting for me to admit something.

It was this morning, when I was preparing to leave Hunter's house, that I decided to ask him if he would like to accompany me to the party. "H..." I paused for effect and stared at him in the mirror as he dressed. In case you were wondering, I hadn't seen him naked...yet. But I have seen all of his upper body. Just below his heart was a tattoo that said 'I made a mistake but I forgive myself.' written on a coiled chain. Curiosity had been my best friend ever since I saw it. I had been wondering what great mistake he made that he felt compelled to tattoo his self acceptance of that guilt on his body.