Tattoos For Grandma Novels & Stories

His deep raspy voice was shaking something in my core as we talk. “Thank you for finding me worthy of telling your deep secret, is your grandma the woman on your chest?” I asked. “Yeah,” “Oh, you really loved her didn't you?” “So much, she was quite close to me than my Mom,” “Let me see it,” I told him and he unwrapped his hand from me and took off his shirt. “That's her,” he pointed to the tattoo that I always looked at on his chest. I slowly traced the tattoo, “Your grandma is beautiful, I see why you love her,” I told him and he smiled, that broad smile that takes my breath away.

I admit, my voice trailing off. "That's not true. She just needed time to adjust," my mom reassures me with a smile. "Well, I'm going to the pool to cool off," I announce, removing my shirt and tying up my hair. "Wait, you have tattoos?" she asks, her eyes widening. Mark's eyes also widen, but not as much. "Yeah, we got them for his 18th birthday with Charlie. Dad said it was okay," I explain. "What are they?" Will inquires.

I ask, tucking my hands in the pockets of my ridiculously casual athletic shorts. Grandpa Ryatt has never been casual a day in his life, as far as I know. He steps into the light, dressed in all black, the tattoos that cover his neck and fingers catching the light, the ink barely faded even though he’s in his eighties now. He doesn’t look a day over sixty, which is hard to understand, given that he’s seen and participated in every war, skirmish, and hardship since his mate, my grandma Ella, brought down the veil between Crescent Falls and Eastonia fifty years ago.

We get out of the car and start walking on the sidewalk, "I do like her, but I don't want her to know." "Okay," I roll my eyes. "Are you going to get a tattoo with us, General?" Hunter asks, opening the door to 'Zander's Greatness'. My father shakes his head. "Nah. I'll wait for you guys at that bar,” he points, “While you get your little drawings done." Zander is a bald man covered in ink who has done ten of my tattoos. My favorite ones, the ones that mean the most to me. This time, Hunter and I get the date of our departure tattooed just below the tattoo we got last year, which is the same, just a date. Small and simple.

“Bullshit, I saw the way you fell to your knees on the sidewalk right when you saw her get out of the taxi. Love at first sight, eh? I will kill her before you even think about trying to be with her.” I didn’t care at this point. “I have a tattoo to get to.” I shoved past her, walking out the room to leave. I walked down the hall, catching Mr. Yuri giving her one of his famous bear hugs. “It’s so surreal to be meeting you, grandpa.” “Your grandma had to take her evening medication a bit early today, she’s been feeling a little under the weather lately and they make her very tired. So she had already turned in for the night…” He explains to her.

AJ was one of my first partners in crime, back when we were teens. "Uptown. Glad to be back, no lie," I roll my sleeves up to my elbow and unbutton my shirt to mid chest, making sure that all of my ink is on display. In this world, these tattoos are an important part of our identity. Each tat has a meaning. The vines are for my crew, each thorn a successful mission. One little rosebud for Livy, when I took her into my home. A large cross across my chest for my parents, a bleeding heart for my sister Jane.

“Do you think we can just… not pay rent? Like, what are they gonna do? Kick us out? I dare them.” She tilted her head, her big eyes staring at me like I’d lost it. I sighed, rubbing her ears. “Yeah, you’re right. They’d totally kick us out.” The thought of leaving Grandpa in some care home where strangers wouldn’t know how he liked his tea or how to calm him during his episodes… it wasn’t an option. I rolled onto my side, my fingers brushing against the butterfly tattoo on my wrist. It was supposed to symbolize hope, change, and resilience, but right now, it just felt like a hollow reminder of how hard I was trying to stay afloat.

I asked him while eating my burger. “It is a Chinese character of hope. I decided to tattoo this to remind me that there’s hope for everything,” He said while looking at his tattoo. “And how about that tattoo?” I asked him while pointing to his right tattoo and gave him a mean look “No, it is not what you think. I don’t have a wife and a kid,” He defensively answered. “This is my mom and me. It is my tribute tattoo for my mom. I want her to know that she’s always remembered”, He added.

It wasn’t like I was against the idea; I just had a different view. I remember asking my mum about a small star tattoo that she has on her wrist, she answered with something like ‘This is just a reminder of a happy time. Whenever I feel sad, I look at it and it instantly makes me happy’. I also remember wanting to get a tattoo done too but she was completely adamant about the idea despite my persistence. Her excuse was something like ‘You’ll know when you want to mark a certain date in your life sweetie. Right now you’re just too small to understand the concept of it’. I wondered why Blaze decided to get this tattoo done.

I let her play for a while and asked, "What does your tattoo mean?" "Death." Willa lowered her eyelashes, looking into the black circle around her wrist as she showed me, "Granny is a tattoo artist. Aren't they pretty?" Not as pretty as my mate. But why would anyone give their granddaughter a tattoo on the wrist that means "death"?! I frowned at the idea, confused. It felt like a dark curse, chaining her up. [Curse!] Cerberus grunted angrily. "Why would she do that? I can't imagine anyone would--"