Minimalist Small Hourglass Tattoo Novels & Stories

she says positioning the tablet back up. “Kitten I want you to write down your rules” I say before she start writing. Louis Rules: 1-Always call Rebbeca Mommy. 2-Eat three meals a day. 3-No lying, tell Mommy everything. 4-Bedtime is ten pm. 5- No candy or sweets without permission. 6-No cursing. 7- Message me through the day and a video call is a must before bed. 8-Accept all gifts Mommy send you, no fuss.

He links as he pouts at me I can tell a smile is trying to replace his pout. I laugh as the group looks between us, Ajax just smirks at me and looks away. I love my marks, but I will have to cover them when I go to my granparents they look like I have a little tattoo at the base of my neck on each side one a star and one a moon both with a wolf howling at it, they're each around two inches In size amd very detailed so they're definitely noticeable. They're perfect.

As my eyes follow his neck I find our mark sitting there like the most beautiful tattoo with its simplicity. The triple moon sits on our neck, the outlines clean and crisp. Inside the full moon sits two paw darkened paw prints. Three stars connected by thin lines rest above the full moon and waning crescent. Tracing the image I enjoy watching Damon shiver while I whisper, "it's beautiful."

I will go back every time until I meet my mate or even a vampire who is looking for the same kind of love I'm looking for. I put dangly diamond earrings in and two golden bangles on my left wrist. My hair is in a beautiful updo with a few strands framing my face. I apply mascara and red matte lipstick that will last through the night, but nothing else because I don't want to hide too many natural features. I slide my dress on and zip it up in the back before checking myself over. The sweetheart neckline shows just enough cleavage to be sexy but not enough to scream desperation. My tattoo written in cursive across my collarbone is showing. My mom was angry when I got it. Not because I was mar

“Tattoos?” “Yes.” She crossed her arms. “Don’t tell me you’ve lived centuries and never gotten inked. Today’s the day. Come on.” He studied her for a long moment, lips twitching as if amused by her defiance. Then, to her shock, he set the book aside. “Fine. But you’re choosing the design. I’ll only allow you to brand me once.” …. The tattoo parlor smelled of antiseptic and ink. Chloe’s heart raced as she flipped through sketch books, finally settling on a delicate design: a small crescent moon entwined with a star.

My back and muscles were so sore, I needed a run soon. " Then I was right you are thinking about your mate right?. " She said insisting with a worried expression. " Nope ,I was thinking about how much I have left. How much time I have to be with you and the pack before I join the moon Goddess who I don't even know will accept me when I die. " I said to her then turned around to see the magical hour glass that tells how much time I have left to survive. The magical hourglass was given to me by an older witch. It was a typical hourglass but I call it the sand timer or egg timer of my life since my life was as fragile as an egg but sharp as sand thanks to my magical powers.

Rowan glanced at her and noticed her gaze fixed on the small, thin tattoo on her ankle. Nora wore a pair of knee-length wide-leg shorts and low-cut white sneakers, revealing the slender tattoo on her ankle. From a distance, it was difficult to discern what it represented, but upon closer inspection, it was a delicate "f". It was mainly to represent the word ‘forget’. Rowan had suggested she get the tattoo. Perhaps artists and designers tended to have a more unconventional and distinctive taste. Otherwise, given her personality, she would never have considered getting a tattoo.

“Your turn.” “I’m not getting a tattoo.” He shrugged. “Didn’t think you would.” “Oh, fuck you. Fine.” I settled for two small tattoos. One of a pair of cherries with a bite mark above my right breast. “Those yours?” He smirked. “Because I’d bite harder.” I rolled my eyes at him but the tattoo artist found it funny. I got another one. “𝒮𝒾𝓃” on my side, under my left breast.

My eyes move over every inch of the map. I'm wearing jeans and one of Austin's smaller tops because I couldn't be bothered to find one of my own. My hair is in a ponytail, bearing the whole of my neck and his mark. After my shower last night, I spent five minutes admiring the tattoo style mark claiming me as Austin's. It's in the shape of a crown, about the size of my middle finger and at the tip of my collar bone. When I tied my hair up this morning I could tell Austin was pleased that I was showing it off. Every now and then I catch him admiring it.

“I’m here for a tattoo.” He leaned back, arms folding across his broad chest. The motion made the fabric of his shirt strain. “You? A tattoo?” He laughed, low and cruel. “Let me guess. Tiny heart on your wrist? Or maybe a quote about ‘strength’ in some flowery script so everyone knows how deep you are.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the design. “Lower back. Crescent moon with vines. I have the reference.”