Fine line tattoo of a hand reaching out beside a half-filled sun on a shoulder, with a black and grey hand and the words NEVER TALK on the upper arm below.

Fine line hand and sun on shoulder

Fine line · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A fine line drawing of an open hand reaching across the shoulder, with a small circle above it and a half-filled black semicircle resting on a horizon line. The linework is thin and even, with no shading beyond the solid black sun, and the ink is black and grey. A second tattoo of a pointing hand and the words NEVER TALK sits lower on the upper arm, and the photo is framed to show the shoulder against a plain pale wall.

Fine line Shoulder Upper arm Hand Sun Horizon Circle Finger Text

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

Dear Mags, the tide has gone out further than I have ever seen it, and the dinghy is sitting on the mud like a tired dog. Don't fret about the roof. Tam came over on Tuesday with the new slates and swore on his mother's grave that the north gable will hold until March, which is more than the minister ever managed.

Keep reading

I went down to the pier last night to do what you told me, to stop chewing on things. I had Dad's brass button in my pocket, the one shaped like a sixpence with the anchor worn smooth. I held it out over the water the way you'd offer a biscuit to a nervous pony, and my hand shook more than I'd like to admit. The sun was already half under the line of Hoy, one red bite of it hanging on the edge as if it couldn't make up its mind.

I threw it. The button turned over twice in the last of the light, a small bright coin of nothing, and I watched it until it became a speck and then nothing at all. Then I stood there with my arm still out, fingers open, feeling the wind go through them as if they had been holding something all along.

The sun went down while I was still standing there, and I didn't feel the cold until I got home. I've put the kettle on and left the back door open a crack, which Dad would have scolded me for. Come up when the ferry runs on Saturday. I'll show you the empty tin and you can tell me I'm daft. Your loving sister, Eilidh.