Two arms flexed toward the camera, each with a colour pizza slice tattoo with pepperoni and HOME-SLICE lettering in traditional style, with roses and banners on the upper arm.

Matching pizza slice tattoos on two forearms

Traditional · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A pizza slice with red pepperoni and a dripping cheese edge sits on the forearm, with black HOME-SLICE lettering beneath it. A second matching pizza slice with the same lettering appears on the upper arm, next to traditional-style red roses and banners with script. The pizza uses yellow, red and black with solid shading, the lettering is in black, and the photo is taken at close range against a cluttered fridge and wall posters.

Traditional Lettering Forearm Upper arm Pizza Pepperoni Pizza slice Lettering Rose Banner

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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

The Sea Breeze Guest House had a rule about the kitchen after ten, and at twenty to midnight you were breaking it with a pizza box balanced on one palm. Mrs Pargeter's hallway smelt of lavender polish and damp coats. Upstairs the boiler knocked like someone wanting out. You set the box on the table beneath the fridge, where a dozen magnets held up the bin rota, a postcard of Weymouth pier and a gas bill nobody had paid.

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Dom came down in one sock, phone held out as a torch. 'You got pepperoni,' he said, as if you had confessed to something. 'Nobody orders pepperoni at midnight unless they've had a bad season.' 'Nobody orders a Hawaiian unless they're lying about being a grown-up.' You had been arguing about toppings since May, when the two of you were the only lodgers left who were neither retired nor waiting on a ferry. He lifted a slice and the cheese stretched in a long, reluctant string. Outside, the wind worked at the back window as if it wanted in too.

Three days later you were sitting in a shop on the front, the needle buzzing along your arm, while Dom sulked in the chair opposite and insisted on the matching design. The artist, a woman with a swallow inked on one wrist, drew the slice twice on tracing paper, pepperoni in the same places, cheese dripping at the same angle. 'Home slice,' Dom read, squinting at the word she had lettered beneath. 'It's a pun.' 'It's a promise,' you said, which made him go pink under the lamp, and she told you both to keep still.

The next morning the bin rota had a new line in Mrs Pargeter's looping hand: Thursdays, pizza, both of them, and no more arguments about the toppings.