Black ink lettering tattoo on the inner forearm reading I solemnly swear that I am up to no good, in a hand-lettered script style.

Quote lettering on the inner forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo spells out the phrase I solemnly swear that I am up to no good across several lines, with a small ornament above and a small tree shape below. The lettering uses single black outlines with a mix of script and capitals, and the strokes are fairly even in weight. The ink is black on pale skin, and the text fills most of the frame with a plain background at the edges.

Lettering Forearm Quote Lettering Script Tree Ornament

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 galley was quiet at half past four, the kettle still ticking as it cooled, and Agnes Pollard had the purser's stolen key in one hand and a pencil stub in the other. Captain Brindle had locked the spirit store every night since Gravesend. Tonight he had gone ashore to argue with the harbourmaster, and she meant to be in and out before the tide turned.

Keep reading

She had written the oath on the inside of the flour tin lid a week earlier, in careful capitals so the bosun could read it without his spectacles: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. Nobody had asked her what it meant. Most of the crew had laughed, and the cabin boy, Tom, had drawn a little pine tree beneath it, insisting every oath needed a witness.

The store door gave with a sigh. Between sacks of oatmeal and a cask of Madeira she found what she had come for: the captain's own bottle of dark rum, sealed with his green wax, and tucked under it a folded note in his cramped hand. Do not open before Christmas. Agnes smiled, set the bottle on the plank shelf, and added a line of her own beneath his, in pencil, where he would see it first.

When the captain came back wet and cross, he found the galley table laid for supper and the custard already sweetened with something that was definitely not sugar. He did not punish anyone. He sat down, ate two bowls without a word, then turned his note over and found the small pine tree Tom had drawn, and under it, in Agnes's round hand, the words he had been hoping to read all voyage.