Jalen Green Leg Tattoo นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"Don't get me wrong, all your tattoos are amazing—but I can stare at those three for hours, I just love looking at them." "Good to know since I drew those as well as the rocket on my right thigh..." Fun fact, her rocket ship one was the tattoo that Green Ranger had a mini version of on her left ribs. "My sister might've changed a few things, but all things considered, those four are still 'my mind vomit.'" "You're brilliant." She grinned. "Hm, you know what? Fuck it, I can have favorites, too. So, yeah, it's a tie between the one on my back, and Scylla and Charybdis."

The dark blue comforter had slid down to his waist and his shirtless back was facing her. The blanket had exposed the tattoo that he had gone and gotten with his brother the day before they found out their mother was pregnant. They both had NO MATTER WHAT and three stick figures above it. It was decided that after the baby was born, another stick figure could be added. Jaxon also promised to take Jolene to get one once she was released from the hospital and felt up to it. After all, they two brothers got the tattoos because of her. They wanted each other to know that they had their siblings’ backs.

he drawled, "took you long enough. I was beginning to think you had changed your mind about spending the weekend with me." I rolled my eyes but could not help the smile that tugged at my lips. "Dream on, Killian," I replied, climbing into the passenger seat as he held the door open. Killian was hard to ignore—he was a huge guy, broad-shouldered and tall, with a presence that demanded attention. His dark hair was always a bit unruly, a perfect contrast to his sharp jawline and intense green eyes. His left arm was covered in a sleeve tattoo, the ink swirling down his arm in an intricate design—black lines, shaded geometric patterns, and symbols that I could not fully make sense of but seemed t

“You're not training with Dane today. Neither with Napoli, nor will you practice Muay Thai with Collins. He tossed his black jacket to the side and for the first time I got a glimpse of his biceps and discovered that he has tattoos on one of his arms. They look like Egyptian hieroglyphs, letters and a compass. I always kept in mind the numbers that she has tattooed on her fingers, but my fascination with it made me ignore them all this time so as not to lose my temper. I find that detail very attractive, but now that I see it... I don't know how I'm going to control myself.

I didn't drink last night nor did I smoke anything so why the heck am I seeing things? There was no way in hell the Legendary Killian Greenberg was standing in this room. I'd recognize him even in my dreams. Tan skinned, long black hair he keeps plaited, ears pierced with small earrings, and the tattoos snaking up his arms and neck. This was the real deal. This is the real Killian Greenburg, my hockey hero and nerd 2.0 just called him dad?

Inscribed across his biceps was a black shield bearing the image of an ivory two-headed eagle hovering over five yellow circles that are in the shape of an inverted V. Danica placed her clothes on the footstool at the end of the bed and raised her hand to touch his arm, glancing at Lorenzo for permission. *********** *LORENZO* I held my breath as she traced the outline of my tattoo, her finger skirting across my skin, her light touch echoing through my body, toward my groin, and I suppressed a groan. “Did it hurt?” I grimaced. “I could endure the pain. Are you interested in getting one?”

But reminded of how she abhored in being tied in such, he found the will to stop the kiss, leaving both of them panting while staring at each others' eyes. Jilal looked down while Leera did so and found a purple stone on his palm. Without a word, he crushed it to pieces and finally let go of her. He didn't even saw the stun on her face upon beholding the black tattoo on his wrist. Leera readily looked into her left wrist and gasped loudly when the cursed graffiti was already gone in there. She looked over Jilal this time who regarded her in silence. She was then reminded of the word of the oldest baba in the tribe. The one who says about her cursed tattoo.

John flicks a piece of his brown hair off his forehead and sits down in the chair across from my desk. His olive green shorts expose his hairy man legs, but the interesting thing is the purple Dragon tattoo circling itself up his calf. I can't bring myself to ask what would possess him to get such a tattoo, but I watch it move as he sits down and positions his legs.

They were a vivid, piercing green that seemed to see through my skin. Eucharist. The legend that could pull life back from the grave. My skin glowed, mirroring the green veins throbbing in his neck. A tattoo etched itself into my forearm—a white wolf, burning white-hot. I stared at the symbol, feeling a sting of bitter irony; a mark of the wolf burned into the skin of a girl who had just traded her inner beast for a savior. We floated in that emerald silence before the light died, dropping us hard onto the ferns.

The half tattoo is faded, but there’s just enough of it left that I’m able to make out the letters written in cursive and divided from the top half. J.A It doesn’t take me long enough to figure out that the words—or what’s left of it— are initials. One that once stood for Jey and Anthony. It’s that obvious. What I see on his once full finger is a ring. Branded into flesh. The kind you don’t slip on or off or lose—but bleed through. My hand trembles slightly as I reach for his. I gently trace the edge of the scar with my fingertip. Light and careful, like it might vanish if I touch it too hard.