Two wrist tattoos of game controllers, one in black and grey on the left wrist and one in orange on the right wrist, with a small star beside the orange one.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Game controller tattoos on two wrists

Other · Mixed · Photo

Two small game controller tattoos sit on the inside of separate wrists, shown side by side. The left controller is a solid dark grey silhouette with faint interior detailing, while the right one is a single orange-brown tone with a small four-pointed star to its left. The photograph is taken at close range against plain skin, with the controllers centred in each frame.

Other Star

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the third stair, it gives under you like a bad promise. Sit by the gas fire, it still works if you talk to it. Right, so. The Coyle brothers had one controller between them the winter the power kept cutting out, a grey thing with a cracked left shoulder button, and they fought over it the way gulls fight over chips on the Kingsway, loudly and without ever quite meaning to stop.

Keep reading

Tomas wanted the lamp-lit car park behind the bingo hall. Davy wanted the canal towpath, where the boats sleep with their chimneys cold. Neither would give ground, so they drew the city on the back of a bus ticket, every street with its name in biro, and Davy put a little four-pointed star in the corner to say which way was north. Tomas said that was just decoration. Davy said a map without a north is only a rumour. Then the ticket went in the gas meter and nobody ever found it again.

That spring Davy bought a second controller off a lad at the market, painted it rust-orange with a tin of car paint he'd nicked from his uncle's garage, and gave it to Tomas without a word. Tomas waited until the lights went off across the whole street, then pressed start on both of them. Nothing happened on either screen. They sat on the flat roof anyway, two dead machines in their laps, and watched the city light up window by window, the way it always did once you stopped asking it for anything.