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#arrow tattoo
slimylayne · 8 months
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Shark fin and broken arrow next to a gym rat done by my mentor Jamie! On our mate alfie
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beenicole-art · 1 year
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This tattoo was so cool to design. I think this was the first design that I saw the finished product. Seeing your art on someone’s skin is so cool.
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machutattoo · 8 months
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www.machutattoos.com
www.machutattooschool.com
www.onlinetattoocourses.com/
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gabritheblue · 1 year
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typical arrow tattoo
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Fine Line Geometric Tattoos
Fine Line Geometric Tattoos
In the purity of simple lines and curves there is true beauty. Fine Line Geometric tattoos are unique, subtle and simply gorgeous. Fine line tattooing is the use of straight or curved lines that are very thin. Moreover there’s no use of gradations in shade or color. These tattoos emphasize form, not color, texture, or shading. Because of the advancements in tattooing technology, tattoo artists…
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thecurseofdemisecomic · 6 months
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Everyone always mention how Epona is an airbender cuz she has an arrow on her nose so, airbender avatar Epona
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kendallsroyco · 10 months
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HE 🥵
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mochegato · 9 days
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Forever Yours
It was bad. She knew it had to be bad. Why else wouldn't they have heard anything?  Why else would they keep her... them!  Keep them in the dark?  They wouldn't.  Unless there was a reason not to tell them... like something really bad had happened and they were trying to mitigate the fallout.
This was far from Adrien’s first mission for the Justice League.  They both frequently worked with various members.  It wasn’t even his first mission without Marinette.  In fact, they went on missions without one another a lot.  But there was just something about going on a two-person mission behind the Order’s worst enemy’s lines with someone neither Adrien nor Marinette knew well… or fully trusted if she was being honest, that kicked up the nerves.
It was supposed to be a quick mission.  “Two hours max”, they said.  “In and out,” they said.  “No real danger,” they lied.  But that was twelve hours and quite a few anxiety spirals ago.  The muscles in her hands were starting to cramp from her fidgeting, her fingers curling and flexing over and over like a compulsion.  She had paced around Mia’s apartment so many times, the carpet was beginning to show an indent from her perpetual path.
“It’ll be fine,” Dick assured her.  “Lack of information doesn't mean anything.  It's just standard operating procedure, really, especially for Constantine.”
Marinette shot him a flat, almost disgusted look.  “It’s standard procedure when something goes wrong,” she explained slowly, annoyance starting to seep through.  “No contact for twelve hours on a ‘two hour max’ mission, is NOT standard operating procedure.”
Dick held up his hands.  “I’m just saying I don’t think there’s a reason to panic yet.”
Zatanna sighed almost grudgingly.  She glared at Dick as she spoke up.  “I will admit, missions with Constantine often end like this.  Things get off track and I don’t think he ever communicates with anyone.  It’s kind of a blackout whenever you go out with him.”
Dick rapidly in agreement.  “Exactly!  It isn’t worth the worry.  I just think you should take a breath, let it out slowly, and relax.”  To his credit, Marinette did stop pacing, but it was to stare dumbfounded at him. 
Meanwhile, Roy let out a loud breath, almost a scoff, and dropped his head, but Mia was far more vocal.  “Did you just tell her to calm down?” she demanded.  “While she’s in the middle of an anxiety attack?”
Dick looked around, eyes wide.  “What?  No!”  He whipped around to face her.  “I would never… I just thought… It’s not productive to just pace here.  I thought maybe you might want to go home and relax.”
“Maybe you should go home,” Marinette snapped.
He looked around helplessly for anybody to back him up but nobody would meet his eyes, everyone looking determinedly away.  Finally, he nodded and took a seat meekly.  Marinette glared a few more seconds before returning to her circuit and abusing her lips and hands once again.
Roy watched her make a few more rounds before reaching his limit.  If she chewed any harder on her lip, she was going to draw blood.   Marinette was declining and he was not about to just sit back and let it continue.  Her purse had been tossed onto the coffee table in front of her so he took the opportunity to search through it until he found what he was looking for.  Like any artist, there was a sundry assemblage of drawing utensils at the bottom of her bag, always ready for when inspiration strikes and always too caught up in the euphoria of capturing their vision to put it away properly.
There were colored pencils, pens, markers, acrylic based markers, paint sticks, he even found a few crayons that he knew were likely for Alya’s infant.  He rummaged around for a few seconds before pulling out his target.  He waited until she passed by again to grab her arm and pull her onto the couch next to him.  She barely had a chance to scowl at him and snap, before he held the Sharpie from her bag out to her with one hand.  The other hand he settled across her lap, his bare, clean forearm facing up.
Marinette looked between the sharpie and his forearm, her brow furrowing further with each flick.  She finally lifted her eyes to his, the furrow deeply embedded and a light frown pulling down her lips.  “What are you doing?”
“You’re freaking out,” he said, like that was in any way an adequate or even logical answer to her question.  She blinked at him, utterly dumbfounded.  The completely nonsensical nature of his response knocked her out of her anxiety spiral, at least temporarily, allowing her to focus on his words.  But being able to focus didn’t help at all because no matter how much she focused on his words, she couldn’t make sense of it.  When she still hadn’t responded after a while, he continued, “You relax when you draw.  I don’t have paper, but you can use my skin.”
Her eyes flickered back and forth between his face and his forearm.  “What?”
He waved the sharpie again and motioned toward his forearm, flexing it as he did to accentuate it.  “Use my arm as your canvas.  Get your anxiety out with it.”
“Really?” she asked uncertainly.  “Are you sure?”
He smirked and leaned closer as he waggled his eyebrows.  “I mean, I’m willing to give you other ways to work out your anxiety…” he chuckled at the scowl she shot him, but his expression quickly softened into something more sincere.  “You can use me however you want, Fire Flower.  If what you want to use me for is as a drawing pad, I’m here for you.”
Marinette groaned and rolled her eyes but shot him a small smile as she grabbed the sharpie and repositioned herself so she faced him.  He could see it as soon as she got into position, the way her mind instantly settled, and a calm washed over her.  It was like the sharpie flipped a switch in her and gave her mind purpose.  Her entire body relaxed.  All the tension that had been building up for hours dissolved once she had a focus.
The moment the felt tip touched his skin, he could feel her exhale.  She held the sharpie in the spot for just a moment before gliding it up into a delicate but simple design.  She was drawing for a few minutes before he heard a whispered, “Thank you.”
The grateful tone in her voice, and maybe the way she was almost sitting in his lap or the way he could feel each exhale fan out over his skin, spread a warmth through his body like a wildfire.  He leaned forward to drop a lingering kiss on the crown of her head.  “Always,” he whispered into her hair.
Her hand faltered slightly at the contact, disrupting the line she had been drawing and breaking the perfect stroke, but she recovered almost flawlessly.  She almost seemed unaffected by the move otherwise, but after a few more seconds, she leaned her body against him and rested her head on his chest.  The movement almost seemed thoughtless, like a natural movement, made without taking her focus from her art.
She was too focused to notice the reaction in the room to their intimate proximity, but Roy wasn’t.  He was all too aware of the looks and knowing smiles.  It was a familiar sight.  Because this was a familiar position for them.  Not the drawing on the skin, but the familiarity and affection.  He had been harassed more than once about it.  But it hadn’t worked yet, and it wasn’t going to work that night either.  He glared at them with a one finger salute to make sure they knew it too.
><><><><><><><><>< 
It had been two weeks since Adrien had returned from his mission, a bit disheveled, a bit tired, and quite a bit traumatized.  But he had returned.  And most surprisingly, uninjured… physically anyway.  He still shuddered whenever he saw a headband and Marinette was positive she did not want to know the story behind that trauma.  Perhaps more disturbingly, since that mission she would occasionally find him staring blankly until she would shake him out of it.
So that night, there was a new mission: Cheer Adrien Up.  All of their friends in the area were invited to the party.  She’d ordered his favorite food and gotten Adrien’s favorite games and movies ready, she was even considering letting him win a few of them… maybe.
Maybe not.  Because not everybody else seemed to have that perspective.  A few… okay, maybe just one, brought their competitive spirit and once they started, she just couldn’t back down, especially when Roy started trash talking her.
That was NOT something she could let slide.  Roy didn’t need the ego boost and she refused to give up her gaming crown.
They were midway though their sixth head-to-head battle, everyone else having decided watching them play was far more fun than playing themselves, controllers held so tightly knuckles were white, both sitting on the very edge of their seats and still leaning forward to get closer, eyes for nothing but the screen and each other, and yet somehow the tension was getting even higher.
She smirked at him when a particularly creative combination caught him off guard and knocked his player down quite a few percentage points.  Unwilling to back down, he narrowed his eyes and pushed his sleeves up to remove any distractions.  However, the result was the opposite.  Marinette stared at his arm, the controller going lax in her hands.  She didn’t even notice when the game ended announcing his first win.  Roy jumped up and yelled in celebration, turning to Marinette to rub it in, but froze at the look on her face.  Her eyes snapped to his and without saying a word, she grabbed him and dragged him out of the room, still oblivious to the whispers and grins of the people around them.
She pulled him into her room, her hand a vice grip on his wrist.  As soon as the door was closed behind them, she rounded on him and shoved his sleeve up to his elbow before he could even react, exposing his newly healed, freshly inked forearm.  She stared at it for a few seconds, her eyes following the lines before lifting them up to him accusatorily.  “Is this… Did you get my drawing tattooed on your arm?”
“Yeah, a few weeks ago.”  He grinned proudly at her, not oblivious to her accusatory glare, if anything, it made his grin widen.  “Like it?”
Her face scrunched in an incredulous expression.  The action itself was baffling, but the cocky reaction was driving her from bewilderment to indignation.  “Why did you get this?”
His smile stayed firmly in place, but it eased into something softer.  “I liked it,” he shrugged like it was a no-brainer, an obvious resolution.  “I liked the way it looked on my skin, so I inked it.”
She let out a long-suffering breath, something of a cross between a sigh and a groan and pulled his arm closer to study it.  The tattoo was an almost perfect replica of her design.  The intensity of brush strokes was duplicated, heavier where she’d pushed harder with the marker, thinner where she’d almost ghosted the marker over his skin.  Her fingers traced the design with an almost reverent wonder.  She paused at an irregularity in an otherwise smooth, unbroken line.  “You even got where I messed up,” she murmured.
“Well, yeah,” he shrugged, extremely careful not to dislodge his arm from her grasp.  “It’s part of the memory.  It’s one of my favorite parts of the design, actually,” he added quietly.
She continued to stare at the imperfection, almost transfixed for a few moments before finally lifting her eyes to his, stealing the breath from his lungs from the awestricken look in her eyes.  He raised his other arm to wrap around her waist but dropped it when she finally spoke before he could make contact.  “What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded, her voice low and hissing.
He quirked his head to the side at the unexpected tone, taking a second to ascertain if she was serious.  “It’s beautiful and I want a piece of you on me forever…” he dropped his eyes to his tattoo, not only as a way to avoid her eyes but to seek a source of reinforcement before continuing with a bit more vulnerability than he usually showed, “and maybe I wanted you to mark me.”
It took a few seconds before he looked up to meet her eyes, hoping to see an affectionate gaze, but instead Marinette was staring daggers at him.  “That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said!” she exclaimed, shoving his arm back at him.  She paced away and ran her hands through her hair before turning back to him, her eyes no longer blazing, now closer to pleading.  “You’re a hero!  You have incredibly dangerous enemies!  You can’t just…” she motioned helplessly toward his arm then threw her arms up in the air in frustration.  “If someone saw that, they’d know who you were.  They could trace your identity because of me!”
He stared at her dumbfounded for a few seconds before chuckling.  Cautiously, he approached her like he was afraid she might run away… or hit him.  “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever done and you’re yelling at me?” he asked incredulously, eyes dancing with mirth.
“Dying is not romantic!” she yelled, pushing him away.  “You could get hurt because of me.  It would be my fault you were hurt!”  His chuckles died down at the tortured look in her eyes and the desperate tone to her voice.
He moved to her instantly, wrapping his arms around her before he’d even thought about it, unwilling to let her suffer at all, especially if he could comfort her.  He held her tighter when she didn’t pull away.  After a few moments he leaned back and ducked his head to catch her gaze.  “Marinette, Baby, have you seen my other tattoos?” he asked softly.  “Fire Flower, if I was going to get recognized for a tattoo, it’s probably the massive, conspicuous ones on my completely exposed biceps, not the one covered by my gloves that are part of my costume and that I never skip when I go out.”
She stared at him looking for the lie in his words.  Finding none, she shook her head and looked down gathering her thoughts, which clearly didn’t go in his favor based on her dipping out of his embrace and groaning.  “Roy, we’re not even together!”
His mouth lifted into a smile.  That response meant she had accepted that she hadn’t put him in danger.  Now, he just needed to convince her that he knew what his action implied and he meant it.  “We don’t need to be together for me to love you,” he answered simply. 
Marinette opened her mouth then closed it again with a groan and ran her hands through her hair.  “You can’t just say things like that,” she whined.
He edged towards her again as his smile morphed into something closer to a smirk.  “The truth?”
“Yes!  No!  Wait.”  She let out an exasperated huff then pouted at his widening grin.  She shoved him again, but with much less conviction this time.  “Stop smiling at me!”
He stepped closer to her, a move that forced her to crane her neck in order to continue to meet his eyes.  “No.  I like when you get flustered.”  He ghosted a finger over her cheek, keeping his touch just shy of making contact but close enough she could feel the movement in the air.  His eyes met hers in an intense gaze.  “I like everything about you.” 
The air left her lungs when he finally made fiery contact, running his knuckles along her jaw this time.  His eyes roamed over her face like he was memorizing every curve and contour, they caught on her cheeks when they flared the most delectable shade of pink, the shade quickly became his favorite color, until he met her eyes again and remembered that shade of blue was his favorite.
“Even if we never get together, I know I’ll always care about you.  You will always be important to me.  You are already carved into my soul.  The tattoo might be more visible, but that?”  He laid a hand over his heart and shook his head adoringly.  “There’s no amount of time or separation or drifting apart or conflict that will take that away.  I won’t regret this.  Not tomorrow, not next week, not next year, not next lifetime.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, his heart racing when she went to him easily.  “Do you know why that irregularity in the line is my favorite part of the design?”  It seemed like it took her a few seconds for her to snap out of her trance and register his words.  She shook her head slowly, refusing to break eye contact.  “Because it happened as a reaction to me.  I did that.  I had that effect on you.  My kiss did.  It was the moment I knew.”
“Knew what?” she asked, her voice soft, almost like she was afraid anything rougher would burst their intimate bubble.
“That I had to act,” he answered in the same tone.  “I got the tattoo because I wanted you forever on my body, like you’re forever in my heart, and what I want now is you forever in my life.  I’m tired of waiting for the exact right moment for it to happen.  I’m tired of waiting for fate or destiny or whatever is out there to provide.  I’m taking my fate.  I’m creating my own destiny and that’s you.  A lifetime of happiness and teasing and laughter and loving together.”
He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear to give her a few moments to let his words sink in, let her internalize them, and consider them fully.  “The question is, what do you want?”
She stared at him dumbfounded.  The idea of acting was scary.  They had always danced along the edge of doing more, flirting with each other and with crossing the line.  They’d always shied away just before tipping over.  There was so much that was at risk if they did.  They were always together, either as part of their larger friend group or by themselves.  If anything happened, Marinette didn’t know how she would be able to experience each day.  But the prospect of not acting was even more terrifying.
She pushed up to brush her lips against his tentatively.  Even after his most ardent declaration, she was still apprehensive of how he would react, terrified he would suddenly realize this wasn’t what he wanted.  She wasn’t what he wanted.  But before her mind could sabotage her, he wound his hand behind her head, running his fingers into her hair and pulling her harder against him to intensify the kiss.  His lips moved greedily against hers like he was afraid he would never get the chance again, almost devouring her.  She responded instantly, pulling his body against hers by his shirt then sliding her hands up his chest in part to settle the electricity that was humming through her veins.
After a long, highly pleasurable, while he pulled away just enough to press his forehead to hers, his breathing, like hers, ragged.  “I think I want that,” she panted.  She opened her eyes to find his already staring at her.  The hope in his eyes stole her breath and steeled her resolve.  “I want that version of forever.”
His responding grin lit up the dim room.  “Let’s start tonight.  Will you go on a date with me?”
She opened her mouth to respond but instead of her voice, Adrien’s floated through the apartment.  “Dinner’s here!”  She snickered and dropped her head to his chest for a few seconds before looking back up, resigned but happy.  “I’d love to, tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Roy agreed.  He pecked her lips quickly and led her out to the party, fingers intertwined and smile beaming.
@maribat-calendar-events
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rollercoasterwords · 1 year
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do u guys have any idea the amount of self control i have 2 exercise in this fandom. every time i see a self-proclaimed "gen z marauders fan" talking about how they enjoy fandom in a totally cool + non-cringey way (reads hp fanfiction, gets hp tattoos, makes tiktoks lipsyncing to popular audios pretending to be hp characters) as opposed to millenials who enjoy fandom in such a cringey way (reads different hp fanfiction, gets different hp tattoos, makes tiktoks lipsyncing to different audios + pretending to be different hp characters) it is like i am a lion watching a wounded gazelle limp past. i am a blood-sniffing shark and these people are bleeding baby seals. personally i believe that everyone has a right to enjoy fandom in whatever cringey way they wish (cringe is inevitable if u are reading hp fanfic in 2023 i fear). however if u are going 2 proclaim that ur way is Superior and Cooler than The Old People......god. u are a mouse w a broken leg and i am a starving owl.
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marysrepose · 11 days
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I will deny you, this world belongs to me
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elven-butts · 7 months
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OCtober day 11 - Arrow. again
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ratanslily · 8 months
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i love you
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sciderman · 10 months
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I got stretch marks too! They're on my thighs AND boobs (is that normal? I never heard about that before. Are they growing too fast or smth help?) tho and I still have mixed feelings about them. It's weird to look into the mirror and see those marks. :')
i really like mine! and i think they're pretty normal, no matter your age or size, it just happens - i have them on my lower stomach, i think they're very funny and silly and groovy
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follow these arrows for a good time
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tender-somethings · 2 years
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texeoghea · 7 months
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reduced my rabbit tattoo idea to its absolute base element to see if i could just make that work. i think it looks fine i could get it without the text but i do feel like its missing something that would drive home the idea more. i want it to be like two separate ideas based on perception. either an exultant freedom from capture and a celebration of life for the rabbit or a horrific unknown symbol of danger and harm for the wolf. because i feel like some people could see this and go “that rabbit has escaped something terrible” and some would see it and go “that rabbit has done something terrible” and that idea fascinates me. its also kind of a question of the dangers of impulse… SHOULD you follow that thing down the rabbit hole? i dunno .
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dangerouslusttt · 1 year
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