“He thinks I have stigmata,” Frank said, because what the fucking hell, it couldn’t get any worse. He might as well just lay it out. “Oh, well,” said Brian into his hands. “Of course.”

After the events of Born Under A Bad Sign, Sam keeps a secret.

Bobby gets a tattoo. All hell breaks loose in NYC.

"If we're going to do this, it can't be with the end of a guitar string and ink dipped from a ball point pen."

It starts with Steve, waking up in a room that looks familiar except for all the ways it's wrong.

"Most high school kids who got lewd, cryptic notes from their bosses would probably have said bosses sued for sexual harassment. Most high school kids don't have bosses like Jensen."

"Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he's seeing something intimate and private that shouldn't have an audience. That's nothing compared to how it feels." This is an AU in which Stiles has magical healing powers.

Hermann really digs Newt's tattoos. This suits both of them just fine.

The band thinks Patrick lost his tattoo virginity.

Dean goes to pick Sam up from Stanford and ends up finding more than he bargained for.

AU – Werewolves are an enslaved underclass, collared and tagged by human masters. Detective Stilinksi’s on duty the night they bring in an untagged stray.

The second time Derek and Stiles meet is in a gay bar. A wizarding gay bar. It's very sparkly. Series

"Shockingly, my skillset is somewhat more diverse than blowing shit up and pissing you off.” Or: the one where Tim gets inked up and it's the best idea he's ever had.

Derek works at a porn store. One day, Stiles comes in asking all sorts of TMI questions about different toys. That's where it all starts.

"Maker save me from you Southern chantry boys." Dorian shakes his head, rolling his eyes and not seeming like he minds being oggled all that much. "You believe in the Maker?" Cullen asks softly, stunned at the idea. He knew there was still a chantry further north, but the idea of them worshipping the same Maker Cullen does is difficult to grasp. "Don't you?"

The Inquisition Law Offices provide a wide array of services to a select and not-so-select clientele. Working in Haven is a complicated business for Inquisitor Mahanon Lavellan, who balances actually bringing justice down on those corrupt while casually having his team manage negotiations to keep his city safe and peaceful with the Trevelyan twins in the dark lower streets, the Valo-Kas' warring Tal-Vashoth factions in the Qunari district, and the Carta's pair of rather dangerous contacts, the Cadash siblings. In comparison, The Iron Bull and his Chargers are a breath of calm, relaxing fresh air. Cullen Rutherford, head of the Inquisition Law Offices' Employee Resources department, has been blissfully unaware of all of this until meeting the love of his life in a jazz club bar fight. Cremisus Aclassi was not planning on a six-foot-and-change boyfriend, but hey, when life gives you oversized blushing men, you roll with it. Dorian just really wants Mob Wives of Thedas to stop trying to get him on their show, and his definitely-not-husband to stop interrupting him at work to make out in the Archives.

Summary: read the tags. that’s it, that’s the story. Or: Dorian gets a tattoo of The Iron Bull's name on his arse. And is then tagged in a completely different way.

"You entertain yourself by drawing on your arm with a Sharpie?"

"Vantas, you lucky bastard," Straterrorist Reikar says, shaking her head. "Going to see that pilot of yours?" You grin. "Only chance I'm going to have for the next sweep, so we better get our duty to the Mother done while we can."

"Shockingly, my skillset is somewhat more diverse than blowing shit up and pissing you off.” Or: the one where Tim gets inked up and it's the best idea he's ever had.

"Well, it's not exactly polite to tell one's parental figure to go die in a grease fire, is it?"

Jiang Cheng has gradually acquired several new, interesting markings - and new, interesting ways to use them.

Baxia takes the shape of a woman with the body of a tiger and three heads, each more horrifying than the next. Huaisang is standing between her and his brother. Wings of ink and ash unfurl behind him as the white-throated needletail dissolves into nothing from Huaisang’s right flank and [defend] activates. “What do you want?” he asks. Shouts, really, through the screaming of the desert wind and the never-ending hum of Baxia’s energy. You know what I want, she says with three voices all at once. You know what I want, delicious one, pretty one. Jewel-snake, ink demon, fiend. - in which a sacrifice is made.

@stultiloquentia correctly pointed out to me that I forgot to include our discussion of LWJ and WWX’s fashion in my headcanons post from yesterday, which was a grievous oversight that must be corrected, plus I’ve had some more thoughts that need to be recorded.

so what if modern nie sect BUT with tattoos (and nmj’s got “dage” tattooed on his forearm with baby nhs’s writing) (nhs started with making projects for his friends and afmily and for fun and eventually became tattoo artist himself)

“How much is bail set for?” Jamie asks without hesitation and not even a hint of sleep in his voice. Fucker. “I’ll get Jordie to do a transfer. Whatever it is, we’ll get you out.” Tyler thinks it’s commendable that he doesn’t cut the call then and there. Then again, once word gets out that Sidney Crosby is possibly broken, Jamie and Jordie are the last chance he has of actually making it back across the Atlantic alive. Or alternatively, Tyler Seguin Worries That He Broke Sidney Crosby In Prague With Indelible Ink.

Normally, she wouldn’t be here—there was flimsiwork to be done, wounded to visit, and loved ones to write letters to explaining the deaths of their sisters, but after she had limped onto the transport that was bound off the battlefield and back to the Endurance, Ponds, also one of the last off the field, laying eyes on her for the first time in days after they’d separated for the battle, had taken one look at her and firmly told her that she needed a break. Mace hadn’t had the energy to argue—Ponds, when convinced of something, was quietly stubborn to the end. So Mace had gone through a list of places she could quietly retreat to on Coruscant that weren’t close enough to the Temple for anyone to recognize her out of Jedi robes, and had ended up picking the Moonlight on a half remembered memory. Series

“Oi, Deku!” Bakugou shouted, eyes meeting startled green. “How often do fucking heroes contact students for internships?” Deku looked startled, floundering a tad under the attention. “I- uh- never?” “Huh,” Bakugou said, reading over the letter again. “What?” Kirishima gaped. “Did a hero mail you a letter?” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Fuck no. I think that bitch Miruko-whatever sent me a fucking death threat and her number.”

“And I got here how…?” Yū asks, eyeing Kayama skeptically. “Well, I’m not entirely sure how you got here,” Kayama laughs. Her nail polish is the same deep red as her lipstick, Yū observes idly. “I just know that you came in drunk off your ass and demanding a nipple piercing.” Yū flushes redder than she’s flushed in her entire life. (Or: piercer!Midnight, tattoo artist!Miruko, and Mt. Lady who accidentally stumbles into their shop.)

Bakugou Katsuki is a camboy trying to make ends meet after he suddenly lost his job and most of his hearing. Touya's just looking for a good time.

“I dunno,” Hizashi shrugged. “He’s clearly not the worst guy in the world, considering who he goes after.” “I heard he’s pretty brutal,” he pointed out, not disagreeing. “Some of those people deserved brutal,” he said and decided to push a little more. “Did you hear about his last victim? That pharmaceutical director using experimental drugs on his son?” “Daughter,” Shouta corrected mindlessly before stiffening. Hizashi grinned. Gotcha.