Colour flower in a red pot and a black and grey whale tattoo, with small script lettering on the skin, in a close photo of two people's bare skin.

Flower in pot and whale tattoos on two people

Lettering · Shoulder · Mixed · Photo

Two people are shown in close view, with a colour tattoo of a flower in a red pot on one person's shoulder or upper arm, and a small script line beneath it. A black and grey whale tattoo sits on the other person's side, shaded with soft grey tones. The composition is tight, with hands in frame and the tattoos as the focus against plain skin.

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 wet step and sit where you can see the water, because this is the tale of Ottoline Pry and the whale who wanted a garden. My gran swore it happened in Gullspit Cove, and she never once told a lie she couldn't sell you back at a profit.

Keep reading

There was a pansy in a red clay pot on the sill of the lighthouse widow's cottage, the only splash of colour for three miles of grey rock. Every dawn a whale called Hector came up under that window and blew a spout so fierce the glass rattled. The pansy, Maud, leaned out to watch him, and Hector thought that was the finest thing he had ever seen, which is saying a good deal for a creature who once swallowed a rowing boat and spat out the oars.

The trouble was plain as a gull on a bollard. Hector could not climb the cliff and Maud could not swim. So Ottoline took matters into her own apron. On the lowest spring tide she carried the pot down the shingle, set it on a flat stone where the foam could kiss its roots, and sat beside it with a flask of stewed tea until the sea came back for them both. Hector arrived singing, low enough to rattle your teeth, and Maud opened so wide she shed her petals onto the froth like coins.

Hector never got his garden, and Maud never got her ocean. But the widow's sill still holds a pot, and on still mornings a grey back rolls past the breakwater and blows one proud spout at the glass. Ottoline swore that was the sneakiest courting she ever witnessed, and she had seen plenty of it in the chapel pews.

More like this

From the plentytattoo archive, uploaded by a user. Is this your work? Ask for credit or removal.