Colour neo-trad tattoo of a blonde cartoon woman in a mask and red and blue corset holding a smiley bomb, placed on the calf.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cartoon woman with smiley bomb on calf

Neo-trad · Calf · Colour · Photo

A blonde cartoon woman wearing a black eye mask, red and blue corset and belted outfit stands in a pose while holding a yellow smiley-faced bomb with a lit fuse. The design uses bold black outlines with smooth colour shading in reds, blues, yellows and skin tones. The tattoo fills the lower leg, with a purple-tinted background wash behind the figure and the bomb raised to the upper right.

Neo-trad Calf Mask Corset Smiley face

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 snow had shut the pass for three days when the woman came down the stair of the Drowned Hart, stamping slush from boots that belonged to no sensible traveller. Her hair was tied up in two yellow tails, and she carried a round iron ball painted with a grin. Its fuse was lit and sputtering. Mother Agathe set down the bread knife and said, "You'll take that outside."

Keep reading

"It only goes off if somebody stops smiling," the woman said, and sat on the settle by the fire as though she owned it. Nobody believed her, but nobody moved either. The fuse burned down a finger's width and then stopped, hissing softly, like a kettle that had forgotten its water. The carter from Lenz laughed first, then the miller, then the two boys who had been fighting over the last heel of rye.

All night the innkeeper's son tried to make her cross. He told her the bridge was out, that her horse had died in the drifts, that the bank in the valley had burned to the ground. Each time she only grinned wider, and each time the fuse fizzed a little more brightly, and the room grew warmer with every quarrel that was mended. By dawn the wind had dropped and the snow had stopped falling.

When the road was cleared she left the bomb on the mantel, its fuse smoking to a stub, grinning down at the room. Agathe kept it there for thirty winters. Nobody ever dared to put it out, and nobody in that inn ever quite forgot how to smile.