Black and white photo of a fine line script tattoo reading Always on my mind with two small hearts on a forearm, and a matching Forever in my heart tattoo on a shoulder.

Matching script quote tattoos on forearm and shoulder

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The photo shows two matching fine line script tattoos in black ink. One reads Always on my mind with two small linked hearts on a forearm, and the other reads Forever in my heart with two hearts on a shoulder blade. The image is black and white, with the arm resting across the shoulder and the composition centred on the two tattoos.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Shoulder Script Heart Quote

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

You have the tiller tucked under one arm and a mug of stewed tea going cold in your fist when the lock keeper at Hatton shouts that the Ada Rose is wanted at Braunston by dawn. Your brother's name is still on the manifest, but his boots are gone from the cabin, and you know without looking that nobody else on the cut can work the paddles the way he does. The October rain has turned the towpath to grease. You call back that you'll manage.

Keep reading

Owen went down to Birmingham in the spring with a rucksack and a borrowed bicycle, and came home in August with a line of black script he'd had done in a back room above a chandler's. He laid his arm across the cabin table like a letter he wanted you to read. Always on my mind, it said, with two small hearts knotted at the end like a bow on a parcel. You told him he was soft. Then you dug out the photograph from the Christmas before last, the one of you both squinting into the sun at Stoke Bruerne, and pointed at the other line you'd had done that same week, Forever in my heart, the hearts matching his exactly.

He never did say which of you had been the fool. At the top gate, with the paddles wound and the water surging up under the hull, you feel the Ada Rose rise as if somebody below had sighed and let go. The weed streams green past the bow. On the bank a stranger in a yellow cap waves you through, and you lift your hand off the tiller, and for a moment the ink on your wrist catches the grey light the same way his does, two small hearts holding on.