Tattoo Drawings Novels & Stories

He then draws at the scratch paper a pistol and half of the angel's wing, I just stared at the paper that was placed on the table and watch at his hands, I place my finger on his hair and stroking it gently. "There, Fight for Life," He said when he finishes his drawing. I look at it and my brows furrowed. "Fight for life," I said and kiss him. That day we decided to go to a tattoo shop and had his drawing tattooed on our back near our nape, It was just a minimal size and it can't be seen when you don't look at it closely, we had the gun facing each other and the wings match when it was put together. After having our tattoos we decided to stroll around the city, He handed me his helmet and I

I don’t want to see it and be reminded that I have a tattoo. “You need to take off your shirt for that!.” Dragon instructed. “What?” Xander and I shouted together. I heard Dragon murmur something like; “ couple goals!.” “Well there is no way I can draw a tattoo on her back with her clothes still on her body!”. Dragon innocently stated. Xander did not reply but took a cutter from the table. He came and placed his hands on my shoulder. The next thing I felt is the upper part of my shirt being cut in the back.

She was imaginative artist and in that frame, was Chase seated behind his desk, left ankle placed on his right knee, cigar between his lips held by his fore and middle finger while staring at her. Saige smiled at the next frame. That one was simple. Chase was staring at something while his silly, dark hair was wet and falling over his forehead He wasn't wearing any shirt on, so the water from his hair was trailing down his chest. Saige didn't know the exact size of his abs or muscles so she drew the one that she imagined on him along with a bare chest without tattoo. She had baldy wanted to draw his front view so she didn't bother about the tattoos on his chest. "Fuck," Saige whispered, bury

******* EPILOGUE Six Years Later… Araheen finished the last flourish of a script tattoo across a man’s forearm, the words MY LIFE IS PRECIOUS flowing in elegant black ink. Beside it was the image of a woman based on a sketch the client himself had drawn. She bore a striking resemblance to a sylph, though Araheen did not think much of it. Satisfied with her work, she switched off the tattoo machine and set her tools aside. “It’s done, sir,” she said. “I hope you like it.”

My name is Artie. I lived with my family, mom and my dad, in the jungle. We had no neighbors but only listening to the sweet melodious voices of the singing birds from the jungle. I grew up from the house and never moved out. My parents used to tell me I was the only reason for their happiness so I made sure to keep them smiling. I was a type of girl who liked watching fantasies so I always wished to make the impossible possible. One day on my birthday, dad asked me to make a wish. I just told them I wanted a tattoo on my thigh instead. My mom scolded me for asking such a stupid thing on my day but it's what I wanted.

I carry my face from his chest slowly and carefully, not to wake him up I roll over and lie on my side. I admire his sinful beauty, if I can just touch it once more. That's right I can touch it, after all he's sleeping. I flatten my palm on his chest and feel each rhythmic movement his chest makes when he breathes. I outline his body with my hands, over the six divisions on his belly to the tattoo on his chest. I remember when he got that, I came back tired from the classes I had and he came into my house grinning like he just won a lottery. He made me close my eyes, trust me I still cheated, opening my eyes slightly to try to take peaks of whatever surprise he was bringing up. When I opened

I missed mine and Wesly's privacy, and I missed Jordan's sweetness awfully badly. Before we got up to shower, he reached over and opened the top drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a sketch pad. I hadn't even seen him put away. He removed his arm from under my neck and opened the pad. Inside were his sketches. He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. It was beautiful, and I knew it was for me. "Danny suggested I draw a larger tattoo to go over my girl to help cover the scar. She will always be there, just we will be beside her."

Tattoos are usually an expression of oneself. She hesitates for a moment; I can see the turmoil in her eyes but eventually she nods. CJ comes closer to me and turns around. I grab the back of the tank top and lift it over her head while her arms are crossed in her front. The realistic tattoo is a full-colored piece with an intricate golden bird cage in the center with a wolf’s head howling at the moon, an owl with its wings open, and portraits of a bear, fox and mouse intermingled with beautiful wildflowers. I run my fingers over the tattoo. Tingles touch my fingertips sending pleasure through me, but what gets me more are the scars I feel and not just a few but many scars. Now that I think

He took my notebook, the one filled with my messy, embarrassed scribbles. He didn't mock the shaky handwriting or the flipped letters. Instead, he flipped to a fresh page. He began to draw. I watched his hand. His fingers were long, the tattoos on his knuckles shifting as he moved the pen with a grace I could only dream of. He drew a perfect diagram of the architecture I was struggling with. Every line was straight. Every node was precise.

I pass by other boyish things, like cars, dragons, dogs, dinosaurs and ninjas, lots and lots of them. My breathing hitches when the next drawing comes into view, a young man and a child, the man has green drawings across his body and I gasp, running my finger down the man before running over the words written on the top. Daddy and I. I feel my fingers clench around the page as tears gather in my eyes while I stare at the drawing, long and hard, silently trying to figure out how the boy knows about his dad having tattoos littering his arm. A small hand covers my big one and pulls the page away from me. “I didn't mean to steal that picture, I just. . . I wanted to look, mummy.” Archer says and