Drawn Mr and Mrs knuckle tattoo design on two fists, framed by red roses and blue forget-me-not flowers, in a botanical Hand style.

Mr and Mrs knuckle design with roses

Lettering · Hand · Mixed · Flash

Two clenched fists are drawn side by side, each with black lettering on the knuckles reading MR and MRS, with a small decorative flourish beside each word. The fists are outlined in clean black linework with white fill, and the lettering uses bold, traditional-style serifs. Red and pink roses, orange blossoms and blue forget-me-nots form a wreath around the fists, painted in soft, naturalistic colour.

Lettering Botanical Hand Fist Knuckle Lettering Rose Flower Forget-me-not Wreath

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

Snow had shut the Tallow Gap road for three days when Hester Vane lost her temper with the bread. The dough would not rise in the cold kitchen, and her husband Abel, who had promised the wood would last, came in stamping and sorry. She did not speak to him. She pounded the dough instead, both fists, until the flour lifted off the board like smoke. Twenty years before, a travelling needleman had inked MR on Abel's knuckles and MRS on hers, paid in wine and a bed, and the letters had blurred to grey but never gone.

Keep reading

The stranger came on the fourth evening, a woman with a pack and frost in her eyebrows, asking for a bed and a bowl. Abel gave her the room above the stables. Hester gave her the good blanket and then, because she could not help herself, asked where she was bound. The woman said she was looking for a carter who had once owed her mother three shillings and a pair of wooden roses. Hester laughed, and the laugh surprised her, and the snow kept falling.

In the morning the woman was gone. On the table lay three shillings and a small carved rose, its petals still sharp at the edges. Abel turned it over in his hands and said nothing for a long while. Then he went out to the woodpile and split every log he could lift, and Hester heard the axe ring across the yard until the light failed.

She found the rose in the window that night, set where the thin light would catch it. The bread had risen by morning, and so had the snow's grip on the road. Abel came in with a bundle of kindling and his knuckles raw, and he set the rose beside the loaf without a word, as if it had always been there.