Black and grey fine line rose tattoo on a woman's upper arm and a shaded rose on her forearm, with a white mug held in her hand.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Rose tattoos on upper arm and forearm

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A cropped photo of a woman in a grey tank top, showing a rose on her upper arm in black linework and a larger shaded rose design on her forearm. The tattoos are in black and grey, with fine outlines on the upper arm and softer shading on the forearm. A pair of sunglasses hangs from the neckline, a white mug is in her hand, and a houseplant sits by a sheer white curtain in the background.

Fine line Upper arm Forearm Rose Floral Sunglasses Mug

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

Sit closer to the fire, the lot of you, and mind the draught from the door, for the snow has shut the pass and nobody leaves Harrowgate before the thaw. Now. Ida Penrose kept a walled garden above the tarn, and she had one rule about her roses: no red. Red was for sweethearts and sermons. She bred only the dark ones, a blackish crimson that looked like ink when the light went.

Keep reading

Her man, a surveyor called Tobias Reeve, climbed the hill every Sunday with a sketchbook under his arm. He drew her roses in pencil, then in grey wash, then in the fine black line he used for the parish boundary maps. He said a flower was only honest once it had been drawn. She laughed and told him to draw the thorns as they really were, sharp and a little cruel, or not at all.

The winter he left for the coast, he took the sketchbook and left the kettle cold on the hob. She waited through three hard frosts. In spring the garden came up black and grey, and she cut every stem and carried the bundle down to the village, where she found Tobias in the back room of the inn, selling a drawing to a man with a cough. She set the roses on his table without a word. He looked at them a long while, then turned his sketchbook round to show her the last page: one rose, shaded soft at the base, and beneath it, in his neat surveyor's hand, the words, the kettle is still on.