Black and grey neo-traditional tattoo of an ornate heart-shaped padlock with a key and ribbon on the upper arm, with a small star below.

Heart padlock and key on upper arm

Neo-trad · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A heart-shaped padlock with ornate scrollwork and a keyhole sits at the centre of the design, with a ribbon wrapping over its top and an antique-style key hanging from its lower left. The linework is firm and the shading is smooth and grey, giving the padlock and key a raised, engraved look. The arm is photographed in soft daylight against a blurred outdoor background, and a small star tattoo appears lower down.

Neo-trad Upper arm Padlock Heart Key Keyhole Scrollwork Ribbon Star

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 padlock had rusted shut in the August heat, and Ada had been working at it with a bent hairpin for twenty minutes when old Mr Hollis came down the orchard rows carrying a tin of cordial and a face like a closed door. "Leave it," he said. "Ivy never had the key either. She threw it in the Medway the summer they married. Said she'd lock the gate with her own heart and let him find his own way in."

Keep reading

Ada didn't leave it. She had opened three hundred locks in this village and could tell a lie by the way a lock sat in its housing. This one was sound. Its heart-shaped body was worked with scrollwork from some Victorian foundry, and the keyhole sat dead centre like a pupil. She fitted the hairpin, eased the shackle, and felt the spring give.

The gate swung open. Beyond it the Bramley trees hung heavy, and windfalls dropped into the long grass with soft thuds that set the wasps drunk. Mr Hollis stopped at the first tree and laid his palm flat against the bark, the way you might steady a nervous horse.

Ada worked the padlock free and turned it over in the light. Wedged inside the shackle, where the brass ribbon met the body, was a slip of paper folded small and gone the colour of weak tea. She eased it out and read the faded pencil aloud. "Gate's not for keeping him out. Oil the hinges, Walter." Mr Hollis took the slip from her, read it twice, and laughed until he had to sit down among the apples.