Black and grey botanical sleeve on an upper arm and shoulder, showing bleeding hearts, strawberry plants, flowers and leaves in fine detailed linework.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Bleeding heart and strawberry plant sleeve

Botanical · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A full sleeve covers the upper arm and shoulder, with bleeding heart flowers arching across the top and a strawberry plant running down the arm. Ripe and unripe strawberries, small blossoms and serrated leaves are drawn in fine black linework with solid black accents and soft shading. The design is in black and grey and sits against a plain white wall, with the wearer's black vest top at the edge of the frame.

Botanical Upper arm Shoulder Strawberry Leaves Flower Blossom Sleeve

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Hollis had been pinning the same seed packet to the shop board since Easter, and nobody had yet asked what the strawberry on it was meant to be. Lottie Brand knew. She had grown up three doors down from the nursery, and she knew the difference between a wild alpine and the fat Cambridge Favourite that Mr Pryce sold off the back of his cart.

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The bleeding hearts came first, in April, when the stems in the churchyard border bent under their own weight and dropped their pink lockets like something being handed back. Lottie cut a dozen for the vicar's wife, who said they were vulgar and then asked for two more. Her father would have laughed. He had kept the strawberry bed behind the chapel for thirty years and had never once sold a runner, saying a plant that good ought to be given away to people who would look after it.

By June the bed was heavy and red and the wasps had found it first. Lottie knelt in the rows with a flat tin and a knife, lifting the young runners that had rooted themselves into the path. Each one she wrapped in damp newspaper and pushed into the hand of whoever came past: the postman, the girl from the telephone exchange, a boy who had come to the wrong gate looking for his aunt.

Mrs Hollis took three and asked what they cost. "Nothing," Lottie said. "Put one where the sun gets it and don't let it climb." The older woman frowned at the tin, then at the leaves, serrated and dark as ink. Her board still said FOR SALE in capitals. Lottie pulled the drawing pin from it, folded the card in half, and tucked it under the lid of the tin, where somebody would find it in the autumn.