Black and grey script tattoo of a dandelion releasing seeds, with the words 'We accept the love we think we deserve', on the upper back near the shoulder.

Dandelion seeds and script quote on shoulder

Lettering · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A dandelion head with seeds drifting away sits beside two lines of cursive script reading 'We accept the love we think we deserve'. The linework is dark and bold with soft grey shading around the seed head and stems. The tattoo is photographed from behind on a bare upper back, with a red vehicle and blurred background.

Lettering Botanical Shoulder Dandelion Seed Script Quote Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wind over Quillmoor had been blowing the wrong way for three weeks, and every dandelion clock in the kingdom had gone to seed before the bees were properly awake. My grandmother said the seeds were choosing where to live. I said they were only seeds. She said that was what everyone said before they took root in the wrong field.

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Old Master Orrin, who tended the palace orchard, kept a single clock on the sill of the north window. Petitioners who came to court with their hearts in their hands would find him there, puffing gently, and he would tell them the same thing every time: we accept the love we think we deserve, and the rest is only wind. Nobody liked hearing it. The Lord Chancellor had him dismissed twice and rehired him twice, because the kingdom's marriages kept going well whenever Orrin was in the garden and badly whenever he was not.

I took the clock down the spring I turned seventeen, when my sister's betrothal was settled by a man who had never once asked her what she wanted. I carried it across the courtyard on a tray, meaning to blow it at him and scatter his certainty over the cobbles. But the wind came round the north tower and caught the whole head before I could lift it, and the seeds streamed off towards the river like a flock of small grey birds.

I followed them as far as the mill. By dusk there was one left, caught in the wool of my own sleeve. I looked at it for a long while. Then I folded my hand over it and walked home, and I did not blow.