Two matching cartoon robot tattoos on a pair of forearms, each with red heart and bow details, in a traditional style with bold black outlines.

Matching robot tattoos on two forearms

Traditional · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two cartoon robots face each other across a pair of forearms, one wearing a red bow and carrying a red heart, the other holding a red heart out towards it. Both designs use bold black outlines and simple shading, with small red hearts placed above them. Red fills and touches of pink sit against the grey-black linework on pale skin, and the two hands are held together below the tattoos.

Traditional Forearm Robot Heart Bow Matching tattoo Hand

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the lamp, it spits when the draught comes down the shaft. Right, you'll want the proper telling and not the chapel version. Our Tom Pengelly built the first of them from pit-cage offcuts and an old kettle lid, because his sweetheart Nell had said she'd only walk out with a man who could make something useful with his hands. He gave her a square head and two round eyes, which was all the tin would allow, and tied a red ribbon where her ears should have been.

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He built his own with a gait like a man coming off a double shift, and he gave it a heart cut from red glass, the sort the chapel windows were made of before the war. Every evening the two of them walked the lamp-room path together, the tin feet clanking on the sleepers, and the boys at the top of the drift would whistle and call them the Pengelly Pair. Nell never once looked back at the whistling. She only looked at the heart.

Then the roof came in on the number three level, and the lamps went out for three days. Tom's robot was the only thing the rescue crew could hear clanking down the dark, and when they found him he was standing at the grille with his arm pushed through the bars, the glass heart held out at the full length of his tin wrist. Nell's robot had got as far as it could, and its hand was wedged against his.

They're still in the scrap yard by the washhouse, rusting side by side. If you hold your own wrist up to the lamp, you'll see the sleeve of ink that the travelling artist scratched on for the lads who came back. Two small hearts above, the bow and the glass heart below, and the hands meeting in the middle. Go on, put your palm against it. The metal's always warm by the time the shift horn goes.