#mandala sleeve

[chaisetattoos]

Progress on this geometric sleeve

[devxruiz]

[tamaraleedot]

Nearly there on Jerry. Just the inner arm to finish.

Taking bookings now for July-August. tamaraleetattoo@gmail.com

[hookedatweiss]

I wanna show ya this amazeballs yarn that my bestie @shesanearthgirl gifted me ..... 1,181 yards of pure awesomeness. 😍🧶 I love it sooo much! ❤🧞‍♂️

[milanzulic]

(via "X-Ray circle" Laptop Skin for Sale by MilanZulicShop)

[reidmarieprentiss]

Ink Impressions

Summary: Y/N is a hot new tattoo artist that Derek and Emily want to see more of...

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: tattoos

Word count: 2.1k

main masterlist

Derek Morgan found himself walking through a part of town he didn't visit often. His steps slowed as he passed a new shop front: Ink Impressions. The sign was sleek, with an artistic flair that caught his eye. It was new, and he’d heard a few people at the gym talk about how talented the artist was. Curious, and with a rare free afternoon on his hands, Derek decided to check it out.

The interior was a mix of industrial chic and cozy comfort. Dark wooden floors complemented exposed brick walls adorned with framed tattoo designs ranging from intricate mandalas to minimalist line art. The hum of tattoo machines filled the air, mingling with the scent of antiseptic and the quiet murmur of clients and artists in conversation.

Derek approached the front desk, where a young man with a friendly smile greeted him. "Hey, welcome to Ink Impressions. How can we help you today?"

"I'm thinking about getting a tattoo," Derek replied, his voice carrying its usual confidence. "Do you guys take drop ins?"

The young man nodded, gesturing towards the back of the shop. "You’re in luck. Our lead artist is available. Her name’s Y/N. She’s amazing. I’ll take you to her."

Derek followed, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. They rounded a corner, and there she was. Y/N was seated at her station, her focus intense as she worked on a client's arm. She was striking, with vibrant hair that fell around her face in waves, a few tattoos peeking out from under her sleeves. She exuded an air of confidence and artistic passion that immediately drew Derek in.

The young man cleared his throat softly. "Y/N, this is Derek. He’s stopped by for a drop in. Do you think you can fit him in before your next appointment?”

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Derek’s with a warmth that made his heart skip a beat. She smiled, setting down her tools and removing her gloves. "Hi, Derek. It’s nice to meet you. I’d love to help you with that. Do you have any specific ideas, or would you like me to create something unique for you?"

Derek felt his usual charm waver slightly under her gaze, but he recovered quickly. "I have some ideas, but I’d love to see your take on it."

After Y/N finished with her initial client, she sat down with Derek and discussed the concept, and Y/N sketched a design that captured the essence of strength and resilience, elements that resonated deeply with Derek. Her talent was evident in every stroke, and he was impressed not only by her skill but also by the way she listened and understood the emotions behind his request.

As she prepared her station, Derek glanced around the shop, trying to mask his growing interest in her. "So, how long have you been tattooing?"

Y/N smiled, her eyes sparkling with pride. "About seven years now. I started apprenticing right out of high school and never looked back. I opened this shop a few months ago."

"That’s impressive," Derek replied, genuinely admiring her dedication.

Y/N began the tattoo, her touch gentle yet precise. "What about you? What do you do?"

"I’m an FBI agent," Derek said, watching her work. "Behavioral Analysis Unit."

Y/N looked up, a hint of intrigue in her eyes. "Wow, that sounds intense. Do you solve a lot of mysteries?"

Internally, Y/N couldn't help but laugh. She knew exactly who Derek Morgan was. Spencer had talked about him often enough—his partner at the BAU, a close friend. She could almost hear Spencer’s voice, recounting their cases, his admiration for Derek's skills and strength.

So this is the famous Derek Morgan, she thought, amused. Small world. But she kept her face neutral, professional. She didn’t want to mix business with pleasure. The last thing she needed was for Derek to know she was dating his colleague. It would complicate things, and she prided herself on maintaining a clear boundary between her personal and professional life.

"Yeah, it can be," Derek replied, oblivious to her internal amusement. "It’s challenging, but I love it."

As the session went on, Derek found himself captivated not only by Y/N’s talent but by her presence. She was easy to talk to, and he enjoyed the way she seemed genuinely interested in his stories. There was an effortless connection, a spark that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

When she finished, Derek looked at the tattoo in the mirror, his heart swelling with emotion. "It’s perfect," he said, his voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you."

Y/N smiled, her expression warm and sincere. "I’m glad you like it, Derek. It was an honor to create this for you."

As he paid and prepared to leave, Derek couldn’t help but linger. "Maybe I’ll be back for another one," he said, his tone slightly teasing.

Y/N’s smile widened, and there was a twinkle in her eye. "I’d like that. You know where to find me."

As Derek walked out of Ink Impressions, the cool air hitting his face, he couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. He knew he’d be back—not just for another tattoo, but to see her again.

—

The bullpen was bustling with the usual Monday morning activity as the team settled back into their routines. Derek Morgan entered with a confident swagger, a fresh energy emanating from him. As he passed by desks, he couldn't resist pulling up his sleeve to show off his new tattoo. It was an intricate design, beautifully done, and it immediately drew attention.

Emily Prentiss, seated at her desk, caught sight of the tattoo and her eyes widened in admiration. "Wow, Morgan! That’s incredible. When did you get that done?"

Derek grinned, obviously pleased with her reaction. "Got it on Saturday. There’s this new shop called Ink Impressions. The artist is amazing. She really knows her stuff."

Emily stood and walked over, examining the tattoo more closely. "The detail is fantastic. Who's the artist?"

Derek leaned back in his chair, a playful smile on his face. "Her name’s Y/N. She’s not just talented—she’s also incredibly sexy."

Emily raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. "Sexy and talented, huh? Sounds like you had quite the experience."

Derek chuckled. "You could say that. She’s got this way about her—confident, passionate about her work. You should definitely check her out if you're thinking about getting some ink."

Emily's interest was piqued. "I’ve been considering a tattoo for a while now. Maybe it’s time to finally go for it."

Derek nodded enthusiastically. "You won't regret it, Prentiss. Y/N’s the real deal. Plus, the shop's vibe is great—professional but with a cool, laid-back atmosphere."

Emily looked thoughtful, already envisioning what design she might want. "Alright, I’m sold. I’ll swing by Ink Impressions this week and see if she has any openings."

As they chatted, Penelope Garcia sauntered over, having overheard part of their conversation. "What’s this about a sexy tattoo artist?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

Derek laughed. "Garcia, I think you’d love her. She’s got this artistic flair that’s right up your alley."

Garcia clapped her hands together. "Well, now I have to see this for myself. Maybe I’ll get something small to start with."

Emily grinned. "Looks like Y/N might have a few new clients this week."

As they shared a laugh, the phone rang, signaling the start of another case. The team quickly shifted gears, but there was a newfound buzz of excitement. Derek's tattoo had not only impressed his colleagues but also sparked a sense of camaraderie and curiosity.

Throughout the day, Derek couldn't help but think about Y/N and the connection they’d shared. He was eager to see her again, not just for her talent but for the undeniable chemistry between them. Little did he know, Emily and Garcia’s upcoming visits to Ink Impressions would bring them all a step closer to intertwining personal and professional lives in ways they hadn't anticipated.

—

Emily Prentiss walked into the shop, greeted by the familiar hum of tattoo machines. She was greeted warmly by the receptionist and soon found herself in front of Y/N, who looked up with a welcoming smile.

"Hi there! What can I do for you today?" Y/N asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Emily smiled, feeling instantly at ease. "Hi, I’m Emily. A friend of mine, Derek Morgan, got a tattoo here recently. I was so impressed that I decided to get one myself."

Recognition flashed in Y/N's eyes, and she chuckled inwardly, remembering the charismatic agent. "Ah, Derek! He’s a great guy. What are you thinking of getting?"

As Emily described her idea, Y/N listened intently, her mind already envisioning the design. Despite knowing Derek and his world, she kept her focus on her craft, maintaining the professional boundary she valued. But as she worked on Emily's tattoo, she couldn't help but feel a growing connection to these agents, wondering how long she could keep her secret before the lines between business and pleasure inevitably blurred.

—

The BAU team had decided to unwind after a long week, gathering at their favorite local bar. The place was lively, filled with the hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and the distant sound of live music. Spencer Reid had just returned from visiting his mother in Las Vegas, and he was grateful for the chance to catch up with his colleagues in a more relaxed setting.

As the team settled into their booth, drinks in hand, Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan were excitedly discussing their recent tattoos. Emily pulled up her sleeve to show off the intricate design on her forearm, while Derek proudly displayed the tattoo on his bicep.

"You guys have to see this," Emily said, her eyes shining. "Y/N is incredible. Her artistry is on another level."

Derek nodded enthusiastically. "And she's not just talented—she’s smoking hot. I’m telling you, she’s got this whole vibe that’s hard to resist."

Emily laughed. "We were just saying, it’s almost a competition to see who’s going to ask her out first."

They both looked at each other, playfully competitive. "You think you can beat me, Prentiss?" Derek teased.

"Oh, I know I can," Emily shot back, a mischievous grin on her face.

Spencer, sitting quietly beside them, listened to their banter with a growing sense of unease. His fingers tightened around his glass as he processed their words. The name Y/N echoed in his mind. He knew exactly who they were talking about. His girlfriend, Y/N, was the talented artist they were raving about.

Trying to maintain his composure, Spencer asked, "What shop did you guys go to?"

Emily turned to him, still smiling. "It’s called Ink Impressions. It’s a new place, but it's already getting a lot of buzz."

Spencer bit his lip, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He felt a pang of jealousy but also pride knowing how highly they thought of Y/N. He took a deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm.

Just then, the bar door swung open, and Spencer’s heart skipped a beat. Y/N walked in, looking around until her eyes landed on him. She smiled warmly and started making her way over to their table.

Emily and Derek continued their playful debate, oblivious to Spencer’s internal turmoil. "I don’t know, Derek. I think I’ve got the upper hand. I mean, she seemed pretty interested when I was there," Emily said, winking.

Derek laughed. "We’ll see about that, Prentiss. I’m not backing down from this challenge."

Spencer couldn't hold it in any longer. He set his drink down and cleared his throat, catching their attention. "You might want to rethink that competition."

Emily and Derek looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?" Derek asked.

Before Spencer could answer, Y/N reached the table, her presence commanding their attention. She placed a gentle hand on Spencer’s shoulder, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Hey, baby."

Spencer's face lit up with a smile, and he looked up at her with obvious affection. "Hey, beautiful. I’m glad you made it."

Emily and Derek’s jaws dropped simultaneously. "Wait, you two know each other?" Emily asked, incredulous.

Spencer nodded, a hint of smugness in his voice. "Yeah, you could say that."

Y/N grinned, sliding into the booth next to Spencer. "I guess the secret’s out," she said, laughing softly. “Spence here is my boyfriend.” Y/N gazed at him lovingly.

Derek shook his head in disbelief, but there was a playful glint in his eye. "Well, Reid, you’ve been holding out on us. I guess that means you win by default."

Emily chuckled, raising her glass. "To Spencer and Y/N. I guess we don’t need that competition after all."

The team raised their glasses, toasting to the unexpected revelation. As they settled back into their conversation, Spencer felt a sense of relief and happiness. He had nothing to hide anymore, and the night seemed even brighter with Y/N by his side.

[noneorother]

Aziraphale *IS* a real magician

Just not the way he implies. Of course. 🙃 Have you ever wondered what this is? The portal that he calls the Metatron on in S1, and discorporates the demons in S2? Yeah me too. I decided to find out for both of us. Turns out it's a modified Solomon's magic circle! (there are some angelic symbols in there)

Which is, depending on who you ask, magic passed down to humans (King Solomon) from angels in biblical times. The grimoire that houses this particular version is from 1572, and is one of the oldest surviving ones in book form. So Aziraphale, in the historical sense of the word, is a Magician who performs spells. Want to see something interesting though? Aziraphale's been hiding an ace up his sleeve.

If you look at the traditional magic circle, you'll see that the one I put up there is actually a small part in the center of this big one. Which also includes that weird triangle up there, which is called a Magic Triangle (of course) or a Triangle of Art (lol Aziraphale). It's used to summon demons and angels, and make them do things. Like tell the truth when they would rather lie. So do we think that Aziraphale has one of those too? Only one way to find out. Time to find a schematic of the bookshop and put it all together....

The magic triangle seems to be contained pretty perfectly beneath the big persian rug that aziraphale has place under his desk that extends all the way to the bookcase and sofa. With the central mandala of the rug pattern placed on top of the circle space in the triangle.

Wouldn't it be weird if this came in really handy in the show?

Like when an enemy with supposed memory loss shows up and he's trying to question him to make sure Gabriel is telling the truth? Yeah that would be a really good magic trick.

[surelyspacejunk]

they call it the granny stitch cuz it gets all the grandma's on your walk complementing your drip Pattern: MJ Off the Hook's easy granny stitch sweater Yarn: Lionbrand's Mandala yarn, alternating cakes to get a more random look of colors. I hid the alternating yarn in the Ch2 to carry it up which made me feel very clever but I'm sure people have this figured out. Had to manipulate the yarn cakes a little so I could get the sleeves even. I was hoping for a goblincore look and I think I got it. Kind of wish I manipulated the stripes a little more but I wanted this to be an easy stitch that I could wear on a daily basis.

[delusion-mostly]

Regina George x Reader

Part 3/32

Warnings: kissing 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩, lotta fluff

Word count: approx. 1,500

"There is nothing to talk about?" You laugh out, hiding your irritation in a chuckle.

"No. There is," she grips your hand, "I judged you way too quickly when I wrote that about you. It was our freshman year right after you had asked Karen to the spring fling!"

"And Karen said no? I respectfully said 'okay, I hope you have a great time with whoever you go with'? I don't see the issue?" Your face grows more confused and curious.

"We were freshman. We didn't think that was okay. We hadn't learned that not all gay people had diseases and stuff." You give her a shocked look.

"Wow, okay, you are not making this any better. It took you until highschool to realize gay people weren't dirty?" You give her a sarcastic laugh.

"No! Not what I meant. Oh my god I'm so embarrassed." She covers her face with her hands and you quickly grab her wrists, moving them.

"No. Communicate, George. What do you mean." You look at her, practically piercing her soul to get her to spill.

"We were always told that gay was bad, we live in Illinois, Y/N. The midwest hates that stuff. To keep up looks, I always just went along with it. It's stupid," she continues her rant by standing up and pacing,

"I mean, why do we even have to label who we kiss! I kiss boys, you kiss girls, Karen kisses her cousin, and I don't even know if I would say I'm straight! Can't a girl kiss a girl every now and then without it being a little gay! Why do we have to label it all! Just fucking be you!" She stomps over to the couch and lays her face in a pillow, panting while trying to catch her breath.

"George..." you pat her back, and she sniffles before looking up at you, "you are okay. You are safe. Its okay not to label yourself. Just be a human who kisses other consenting adult humans. You, just like everyone else, do not owe anyone an explanation on who you choose to be with."

"I was such an asshole to you for no reason Y/N. I owe everyone an explanation for everything, I'm Regina fucking George. I'm a massive deal!" She sobs a little into the pillow, "I don't even know who I am. Am I nice? Am I a mythic bitch? Do I kiss boys? Do I kiss girls? I don't know!"

She still sits knelt on the ground with her face in the pillow on the couch, she quickly switches it to the knee on your uninjured leg. She wraps your leg in a tight hug, and you tug on her to sit on the couch. The mechanical whirring starts again and then stops, and your mom comes up the stairs.

She tosses you the meds, "These do cause drowsiness so Y/N may be out quickly!"

Regina gives you a concerned look, and you speak up, "I'm going to head to my room, Regina will help."

Regina helps you off the couch and offers herself as a crutch, letting you put your weight on her. She is surprisingly strong considering you are being a huge baby and dragging. You make it to your bedroom door and she opens it, setting you on the bed.

She sits in awe at your room. Tan walls covered by DIY record sleeve panels, deep green ivy strung across your ceiling and down the wall, a black tapestry of a mandala hung behind your bed. Bright red LED lights shine brightly and reflect off of your black bedding and fluffy grey blanket. Your bookshelf holds tons of books, some old, some really old, and some new. Your desk has papers upon papers stacked with drawings and ramblings. You grab the remote on your nightstand and turn the lights to a deep green.

"This is the coolest room I have ever been in." Regina smiles.

"Don't you quite literally live in a mansion?"

"Yeah but this room is all vibey and nature-y. This is so cool!" She looks at your record player.

She starts sifting through your record collection, nodding and giving approving hums at several and giving slight 'nuh-uh's at others. She finally comes over to your bed and lays by you.

"Oh my god even your bed is the best." She drops open her jaw and looks at you as you scoff and look at the ceiling.

You grab some sticky fidget toys and spend at least 30 minutes staring above you, catching and throwing them.

"How did you figure it out?"

"What?" You catch the ball that you had just thrown and look at her.

She shifts on to her side to look at you and you do your best to repeat the action.

"How did you figure out you like kissing girls? I won't say gay because, you know?" She smiles and references the conversation from earlier, "I fucking hate labels."

"Can I be so for real?" You say, she nods, "Orange is the New Black." You both laugh.

"I am so serious! One look at Ruby Rose or that chick that plays Alex? You know, the ginger from That 70s Show? One look and boom. Girl kisser." You tell her in a silly matter-of-fact voice.

"You didn't try any hands on? You didn't go out and kiss a girl?"

"Well, no. Like you said, Illinois isn't a big fan of queer people. It wasn't until sophomore year that I actually started dating around like you said in your book. Not a dig, by the way." You smile at her.

You look back up at the ceiling, and Regina places her hand in the spot between your jaw and neck, and forces you to look at her. She puts her forehead against yours as you set your hand on top of hers. You can feel how warm her breath is on your hands, and how warm your cheeks had gotten.

She shoots up, "uhm, I'm gonna choose a record!" You had just gotten Queen Bee all flustered.

She sifts back through the records and lands on one, she picks Folklore. She skips tracks until it starts playing 'this is me trying', and lays back down in the same way you were before.

She puts her hand back in its spot between your meck and jaw and shoots you an awkward smile. You lay your hand on top of hers, rubbing your thumb against her knuckles.

"Can I kiss you?"

You sit there shocked, mouth open, eyes closed, unable to respond.

"Nevermind I shouldn't have asked, that was so stupid, I'm so sorry Y/N that was really fucked up of me." She moves to get up.

You pull her back down and roll onto your back, pulling her with you.

"Wow you are strong," she reaches for your muscle as she speaks.

"Hockey, honey. Not the point," you lift her chin to look at you, "it wasn't fucked up of you. I was thinking it too, but only if you are sure."

She lays her head on your chest, you tangle your hand in her soft blonde locks.

"I just want to know... this is all so hard. I don't get it. My therapist said I need to explore myself outside of school and the plastics. I just don't want to fuck things up. I can't lose the one thing I have control over..." she starts to cry into your chest, the second time shes cried on you today.

"Sh, you're okay Regina. It's okay Regina. You're gonna be okay G." You keep repeating her name and it feels so good on your lips.

You quickly realize she was meaning the one thing she has control over is the school. You guess after last year everything really did fall apart for her.

"No matter what. If you kiss girls or not. It will be okay. You will still have control over aspects of your life. If you do like girls? Nobody will force you out. You have control over that."

She sits up and looks at you, pulling herself to sit straddling your hips. She runs her fingers through your hair and sets her hand under your jaw when she's done.

Regina slowly leans in, intertwining your fingers and pining your hand above your head. Your other hand trails down her side and makes its way to her hip. She finally, after what feels like a painful eternity, closes the gap. Every moment moves so slow, but she deepens the kiss. You can feel how warm her cheeks are.

Well that was an unexpected turn of events

[tealottie]

Supa Late to my own art event, and also Supa Out of Order with how I'm getting these pieces done!

I believe Pinups Please was for Day 6, Saturday <3

below the cut is an explanation of Dewey's tattoos:

scrooge's cane, donalds hat, webbys bow, and others that arent pictured for LP, Beakley, and Della are just little items representing his family around his wrist. the biggest mandala at his shoulder is a mix of m for mom and m for melissa cause he loves them both layered on top of a capricorn sign for melissa. the red mandala is for huey - it has arrows on it cause huey's a guiding force in his life and the fire is because of huey's passion. on top is meant to be the same bandages della has around her prosthetic (again he loves his momma). the third mandala is for louie - it has layers because of his brothers complexity and is laced and edged in gold. the water and sky beneath those layers are representative of donald and della - his parental figures growing up. donald parents the first half of his life (lower) where della parented the second half (higher). and then the buckles have his and his brother's colors as accents (and also all throughout his sleeve there are motifs of three because he loves being a triplet)

[toshidou]

The 141, except it's a Tattoo and Piercing studio, owned and ran by John Price. He bought the shop when he was 20, taking the dilapidated building from an eyesore, to one of the most reputable and famous tattoo parlours in the UK.

His team is small, but curated by John himself, and he prides himself on the talent he's secured over the nearly 20 years he's owned his shop. People don't just flock to the 141 for his longstanding passion and expertise in tattooing, nor for his flawless execution of designing perfect thought out sleeves. They come for his team, too.

There's his longest working, and most popular artist, Ghost. Known for his mysterious appearance and personality just as much as his work. A master of both the new school tattoo style, and more modern takes on needlework, he'll tirelessly work to make sure every piece of work he tattoos is unique. His art focuses more on the macabre, often showcasing the weird and the wonderful on his socials, when he does eventually post.

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish got his name because of his clean lines and flawless technique, a master of fine line and delicate tattoos, not that his appearance gives that away. Covered in both ink and piercings, topped off with an electric blue mohawk, he's a sight to behold, but don't let his looks distract you from his sheer talent. He's known for being the most energetic artist in the 141, more than happy to chin wag with his clients for the full duration of their tattoo. Yet despite talking non-stop, his work remains entirely flawless.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick started out as Price's apprentice, struggling through college and debilitating art block when Price found his art displayed at his university's gallery. John took him under his wing, and with his help, he mastered the art of hyper-realistic tattoos. Some of his clients travel across the globe just to get his work on their skin, trusting no one but him to give them the perfect tattoo.

Farah Karim is the most recent addition, but a valuable one at that. Specialising in mandala, and geometric designs, Farah creates works of art that border on spiritual. She prides herself on her precision needle work, and steady hand, known for more often than not free-handing her tattoos with no stencil. Her dot shading and line work is pixel perfect, and she'll stand for nothing less than the very best for each and every one of her clients.

Gary "Roach" Sanderson is the studio's resident piercer. He might be quiet, but he has a long list of loyal customers who come to him, and only him to get pierced. He makes his own jewellery, spending hours fashioning unique and gorgeous designs out of titanium and gems. No one creates jewellery like him, meaning his books are full years to come.

Between them all, they create a studio full to the brim with creative ideas and inspiration, never running dry of the passion they hold for the work they do. Which is a good thing, considering their list of clientele only continues to skyrocket higher and higher.

[devxruiz]

Made at Sacred Point Tattoo / San Diego, Ca

[pomplalamoose]

we need some domestic headcanons for luke 😭 i absolutely LOVE you for putting out so much luke content for the faint of heart

Making as much Luke content as I can is my mission here so thanks for your ask!!!🫶🏻

I hope this is what you wanted, if not, you are always welcome to ask for something more specific <3

• despite what he wants his Padawans and others to believe, Luke likes to sleep in

• of course he can't admit to that out loud because he's trying to be a good role model

• so outwardly he puts in great effort to be the stern and responsible teacher

• you, however, know better

• while he is never even a second too late and appeares out of thin air just when he is expected, he loves slow mornings in bed

• especially with you in his arms

• he's a "ohhh just five more minutes" kinda guy but tends to really REALLY stretch that saying

• until the five more minutes quickly turn into "shit I overslept" and suddenly he's scrambling, trying to do everything at once, often forgetting to get his breakfast in the process

• he never learns his lesson either which makes it even funnier 

• his students would have a blast if you told them the truth about their Master

• (even more so if they knew how he drools in his sleep)

• sometimes, after an especially hard day of training or a long excursion, he allows his Padawans a day of rest 

• what they don't know is that he enjoys those more than they do

• finally he has some time to sleep as long as he wants to

• while he also likes surprising you with an extravagant breakfast in bed, he much prefers to prepare it together 

• also, since we're on the topic, I think he'd be really into having brunch 

• when he has scraps of time in his every day life, he does his share of household chores 

• wearing an apron 

• so his very nice black clothes don't get dirty

• listen, I don't know where he got it from, maybe it was lying around some day because you took it off and forgot to put it away again 

• possibly it says something cheesy on the front, like "kiss the cook"

• OR even better, it has ruffles 

• either way he manages to look hot in it

• something about his broad frame in tight fitting clothes, his sleeves rolled up and a big apron bow at the back makes you want to climb him like a tree

• most of the time he is a very orderly person too, keeping your shared living space tidy and clean 

• except when it comes to his socks 

• they're lying around everywhere

• and I mean EVERYWHERE

• at the beginning of the week, after he did the laundry on Sundays, they are neatly folded and stacked in his drawer

• once they are out, they are out though 

• it's like they have a will of their own 

• so when he eventually runs out of clean ones, he has to painstakingly search every last corner of every room to get them all back together 

• on the plus side he's really good at building and fixing all kinds of things

• it definitely has to do with the way he grew up and he likes to do it too; it helps him get his mind off things 

• I totally see him forcing one or more of his students to help him out as a form of detention 

• (it's low-key fun though)

• he's like a dad in those moments, going full "hold that flashlight for me JUST like that" mode

• also he recruits them for extra credit from time to time when he's working on a special project 

• of course he could also put droids to work but insists on letting his Padawans do it, because "it's an important part of their education"

• (he likes having them around)

• he often tells them fun stories while they're at it and since he is a great story teller, they always have a good time 

• during the children's free time he allows himself to be more easy going with them and is totally down to play dress up or hide and seek

• occasionally he gets invited to little tea parties and picnics 

• also I think he'd try to make the introduction to meditation easy and more appproachable for the little ones by making them color out mandalas 

• (he likes mandalas too)

• he's horribly allergic to kiwis but doesn't know because he never encountered one before 

• (and probably never will, are there kiwis in space?)

• sometimes he randomly goes missing during the day 

• if that's the case there's a high chance he's off somewhere snorkeling to look at fishies 

• it's very hard to get his attention then and every call falls on deaf ears

• rumor has it he does it on purpose 

• when he eventually leaves the water sopping wet, with his pants clinging to him tightly, everyone forgives him easily enough though 

• especially his older students like to wait out for these moments

• I kind of see that turning into an event 

• he never quite understands what's going on but is delighted to see so many coming up to him

• (he understands very well but pretends he doesn't when you indignantly throw a towel and him, telling him to cover up)

[callmemaeverick]

TL:DR. A rant about Gabe/Peter’s Tattoos

Whoever’s decision it was to leave Gabe’s tattoos on for Peter deserves all the happiness in the world okay! I’m not really a sleeve-tattoo kind of girl but I love Gabe’s so much!! It was the first thing that caught me onto the show when I saw someone made a Tiktok of it.

And! And it’s not the normal cop sleeve tattoo we normally see painted onto these guys yknow! It’s normally a cross, some skulls, flowers, Chinese/Japanese calligraphy etc. But Gabe’s is like a mandala blooming from the inside of his elbow and going up his biceps. There’s also some geometric triangles going down his forearms that reminded me of shark teeth motifs. (Like Jason Momoa’s)

Then theres the simple one at the top of his spine. Thats my favorite cuz it’s hidden most of the time. I hope it has meaning cuz it’s so cool.

I also like that they didn’t use it as like a thirst trap as much. There was the part where they showed the spine one in Ep1, but that’s mostly to show the scar (AND I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THAT SCAR) But for the rest of them, they were just there.

They painted Peter as this boyscout, never disobeying, never step a toe out of line. So the tattoo was something unexpected. But they don’t shove it into our faces. It was just all of a sudden there, in Ep6, when he got patched up by Rose. I LOVED that reveal.

Anyway, I love tattoos, if you can’t tell, and I love men with tattoos. So, sorry if this rant got long.

Ps: Im writing this as im writing a monster of a reader fic. Im almost done, so stay tuned lol.

Pps: check out my post after this one!! I mightve discovered that the scar. THAT SCAR, might be real also

[paradisepoisoned]

I'm drunk, and work is consuming my life, so I give you the Death Note tattoo AU no one asked for.

-L was a world-famous tattoo artist, but no one really knows what he looks like except his clients and disgruntled employees, but his work is well recognized. Moved to New York to open his own tattoo shop but he's kinda a mystery in the industry and he's one of those owners that doesn't really show up to his own business anymore he rarely tattoos and when he does its only things he wants to do. Will fuck off to Cambodia for a month or something and then randomly show up to collect money and sleep there for a week.

 -L has only ever took two apprentices and they were Mello and Near. He took them on at the same time and it was a complete disaster. L refuses to take on an apprentice ever again

-Near specializes in sacred geometry, mandalas, and all that tedious crazy shit. Line work is impeccable. I feel like he'd be great at lettering and that fine line bullshit that everyone else hates. No one takes him seriously as an artist cause he looks like he's fucking twelve. He has amazing work but is absolutely horrible with clients due to his non existent social skills.

-Mello is the black and gray guy. He's one of those guys who just whips out a 23 mag and goes to town and bangs out a half sleeve in a few hours. I can see him doing crazy horror shit and those big crazy religious pieces like praying hands statues and all that good shit. He doesn't do color and doesn't like anything with a lot of linework. Looks scary but kinda a softie. 

-Near is great at linework. Mello is great at shading. They compete and fight on a regular basis. They have an ongoing silent war stealing each other's supplies,clients, etc. (They're secretly in love tho, deal with it)

-Matt definitely the anime bruh I could see him doing some super colorful new school anime type shit he's a street shop kinda guy at heart tho hell do the dirty jobs no one else wants to do and he's FAST he can bang out your little infinity symbol butterfly feather clusterfuck matching finger tattoo with your 13 friends no problem. He wears goggles while tattooinglmaoaoa idk why, but he also gives me big piercer energy, lol 

-I'm sorry but I can't leave out Linda. I feel like she's the color girl. Specializes in cover ups and botanical tattoos but shes well rounded and can take mostly anything that walks in. Probably the most organized artist out of all of them and keeps the shop from falling apart on a daily basis. I feel like L also trusts her to be the one to manage the shop while he's not there since the others are all completely unhinged, lol. Shop mom 100%

-Matt and Mello hit the bar at least once a week after work and talk shit till 4am 

-B Specializes in trash polka fucking fight me on it.

-B and L apprenticed together and were working together when L opened his own shop but B kinda went down a dark path and him and L drifted apart and now have beef so B is the artist no one talks about (except Mello cause I feel B woulda played a big part in his apprenticeship) 

-B also kinda legitimately tried to burn the whole shop down before he left soooooo...

-L has kept B's room open for years, hoping he gets his shit together one day and comes back. 

[nikolai-alexi]

Jegulus Headcanon Mini Fic #1/?

Regulus loves watching James apply Mehndi.

He loves the way James’ face screws up in concentration; loves watching his hands expertly swirling and dotting the dark ink onto his skin with the delicate applicator pen; loves the way the fact that James creates abstract designs with so much emotion; and most of all he loves that James has shared this part of himself with Regulus.

James has always been the most secretive open book. He gives the perfect pieces of himself away to everyone freely; his smile, his laugh, his humour, and his love. But he hides more of himself away than he shows. The darker, imperfect, breakable parts of himself he keeps under a tight wrap. The world around him can reject his love, ignore his smile, and not laugh at his jokes without hurting him. Regulus isn’t sure when exactly James started hiding his art; when he started moving his henna away from the outside world on his hands and started hiding it underneath his trouser legs and socks, but he certainly has an idea of why James would keep it locked tight to his chest and guard it fiercely. The world is a rotten place and tries to smother beauty in all forms. Merlin help the sorry son of a bitch who ever tried to smother James’ beauty should Regulus ever get his hands on them.

So it comes as quite the surprise when, as their combined groups are all sitting around the lake, James reaches into his bag for his henna pen and looks at Regulus with a grin, “Can I?”

He’s not even really sure what James is asking, but he’ll give him the world if that’s what he asked, there’s really no thinking involved before he’s telling James yes. It doesn’t really click in his brain until James has rolled up Regulus’ left sleeve to his elbow, placed his forearm on his lap, and hunched over the way he always does when he does his own mehndi and sets to work. They’ve nowhere to be, the lot of them have finished the last of their exams and most everyone, excluding Barty and Sirius, have already packed their trunks in preparation for the summer. The weather in Scotland seems to be in their favour for once, and half of their misfit group seems to be asleep in the warm sunlight. It’s a peaceful sort of quiet between them all

The first touch of ink to his skin is cold. It makes him jump just a bit before he settles. James draws a broken line straight down the centre of his arm, from the inside of his elbow to the start of his palm, and begins his meticulous process of creating some of the most intricate and beautiful art he’s ever seen. The ink is vibrant in a way Regulus doesn’t expect against his pale skin compared to James’ much darker complexion. On James, the ink seeps deep into his skin, a beautiful red hue left behind when it dries and falls away. On Regulus, the ink is on such a pale canvas of skin, he’s sure it will look like someone’s taken an ink quill to him with how dark it is.

Admittedly, he’s paying far less attention to what James is drawing in favour of just watching him and his hands work a type magic he’ll never truly understand the significance behind, despite his many hours of research and observations since moving to the Potter’s residence last April. If he had been paying any attention to what James was doing for the last several hours, he likely wouldn’t have had such an intense reaction to seeing it. Among the myriad perfectly placed dots of ink, the laid lines connecting into mandalas, and the swooping and swirling spirals, rests a sun and a moon.

The moon is lower on his arm, resting just above his wrist in the first break of the line down the centre. It’s half crescent shape swoops and connects at its tips, continuing the line with no trace of it ever stopping. The craters are created by varying deposits of ink, some filled in solid, others with small swirls inside them, and others made into flowers. There is a lot of negative space on this end of his arm, the lines wrapping horizontally around his wrist are made three dimensional by its contrast. The topside of his arm is covered in a mandala flower, but the moon on the inside of his arm is largely the focus, the simpler designs supporting the larger piece, but not drawing attention away from it.

The sun, is placed higher on his arm, nearing his elbow with the rays beaming into different designs around it. He can follow the lines of the rays; they’re thicker than the others in the outer designs. They crisscross and intersect the other linework, standing out just enough to be seen, but not overpower the rest of the work. His eyes are drawn all around his arm, until his mind fully connects the dots…literally.

Attached to the sun’s rays are the Canis Major and Leo constellations. Canis Major is on the left side of his arm and tilted upward so its nose is on the outside of his elbow and its legs feed into bold lattice lines, with thick swirls, bold mandalas, and other loud designs. The Leo constellation connects to the sun by the Regulus star. The other rays don’t reach its other stars. In fact, the sweeping, wispy lines of the lion’s mane make it seem as though Leo is recoiling from the sun, but Regulus is keeping it tethered there. The Regulus star is the only bold part of the design. The right side of his arm is filled with gentle brushing lines, blooming flowers, softer, lighter, and more careful swoops and swirls, and tighter and tinier loops. Both sides of his arm are so full of life and love, but they’re so different from one another.

Regulus has no idea how to respond to the amount of emotion welling within besides grabbing James by his tie and snogging the life out of him. The older boy’s muffled laughter against his lips spreads a warmth through him that not even the actual sun could.

It’s that warm feeling and the feeling of happiness and safety he’s so unaccustomed to feeling that makes him whisper the words he’s been practicing for months against James’ lips, “Main tuhanu pyar karda haan,” I love you.

The look of surprise in James’ eyes as he reels back from Regulus’ lips is so real and genuine and sweet. It physically hurts Regulus’ heart that learning five simple words in Punjabi is enough to make James look like this, the way he’s acting as though Regulus has done something so good and amazing.

“Say it again,” James whispers, choking on the words, “Say it again, please,”

“Main tuhanu pyar karda haan,” Regulus whispers back, praying to Merlin and all the Fates he hasn’t completely butchered the pronunciation.

He needn’t worry, though. James is crashing their lips together in a clumsy kiss, one that has more feelings than what can be communicated with words of any language. When they part, a slow, pleased smile curls around James’ lips and his eyes close on their own accord for a long moment. Their foreheads are pressed together. They’re sharing the same breath. James’ dark brown eyes meet his icy blue ones, the gold flecks in them shimmering in the bright sunlight of the afternoon, Regulus’ whole world is narrowed down to those eyes.

“Main vi tuhanu pyar karda haan,” I love you too. James says, his voice no more than a sigh across Regulus’ lips, “Ki tu apni sari umar mere naal bitayengi?” Will you be mine forever?

His Punjabi skills are not nearly as good as he wished them to be, but he didn’t need to be fluent to know that he would never be able to deny James of anything he asked him in that reverent, breathless voice.

“Yes,”