Two women seen from behind with matching script quote tattoos on their upper backs, one reading Always together never apart and the other reading Maybe in distance but never in heart.

Matching quote tattoos on upper backs

Lettering · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

Two women stand with their backs to the camera, each with a line of black cursive script across the upper back near the shoulder blade. The left tattoo reads Always together never apart, and the right reads Maybe in distance but never in heart, with a small red heart beneath the final word. The lettering is fine and clean against natural skin tones, set against a dim indoor background.

Lettering Shoulder Back Quote Script Heart Matching Two people

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

The night before Thandi's train to Glasgow, they sat on the kerb outside the all-night chip shop on Division Street, sharing a carton of chips gone cold under the vinegar. Bea had a biro and the back of a bus ticket. She wrote the first line, crossed it out twice, and said every version sounded like a birthday card.

Keep reading

Thandi took the pen. 'Always together, never apart,' she read aloud, 'that's the lie people put on wedding cards.' She laughed, then stopped laughing, and wrote the second line underneath in her cramped hand: maybe in distance but never in heart. They argued about the heart for ten minutes. Bea wanted it small. Thandi wanted it red. They settled on a red one the size of a full stop, which Thandi said was honest, because a full stop was only ever a pause.

Three weeks later they sat side by side in a studio off Ecclesall Road with the blinds half down. The artist, a quiet man called Glyn who had no interest in their story, traced the words onto their skin in pencil and told them to hold still. Neither of them moved, not even when the needle started, because the stinging felt like something they had agreed to.

When the Glasgow train finally slid out of Sheffield station, Bea stood on the platform with her collar pulled up over the fresh ink. Her phone lit in her hand. Thandi had sent a photo of the same words under a tungsten bulb in a hostel bathroom, and below it, one line: Still here. Bea typed the same two words and watched them go out into the dark, towards the north.