Colour tattoo of a cartoon fairy in a pin-up pose with blue wings and a purple dress, on the upper back near the shoulder blade.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fairy pin-up tattoo on upper back

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A cartoon fairy with a yellow hair bun, blue wings and a purple dress sits on one hip with one leg raised behind her. The design uses dark outlines with soft colour fills in blue, purple and yellow, and the skin around it is smooth and evenly toned. The fairy sits off-centre on the upper back, with the raised leg extending diagonally toward the lower right of the frame.

Back Fairy Pin-up Wing Cartoon character Dress Hair bun

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain had been coming down on Marrowgate market since Tuesday, and by the Friday the stallholders had stopped pretending it would lift. Mrs Ashdown sold wet gloves from under a blue tarpaulin that sagged in the middle like a hammock, and every hour or so she shook the water off its edge and told the sky exactly what she thought of it.

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The fairy arrived at noon, sitting on the tarpaulin pole with her skirts hitched up and one leg stuck out behind her, as if the rain were a joke she had already heard. Her wings were the blue of a kingfisher's back, and her bun of yellow hair was held up with a pin bent from an old sixpence. She watched Mrs Ashdown count coppers into a tin for a long while before she spoke. 'Your roof leaks,' she said. 'Your gloves are sodden and your customers are going home to the next town. I can dry the whole row of you for an afternoon, if you give me something dry in return.' 'Everything I own is wet,' said Mrs Ashdown. 'Then give me the green ribbon in the box under the counter. It has been folded since your mother died and it has never once been worn.'

Mrs Ashdown thought about it, then handed it over. The fairy tied the ribbon round her wrist, lifted her foot, and kicked a stream of water off the tarpaulin's edge in one neat arc. The cloud above Marrowgate tore open to the south, and a dry patch of cobbles spread out from the stall like spilt flour. Stallholders came out to stand in it. The fishmonger swore, and the cheese man sang.

By dusk the ribbon was gone from the fairy's wrist and the sky was black again over the rest of the town. Mrs Ashdown found her gloves still damp and her tarpaulin still sagging, and on the pole a single dry green thread was wound round the cold iron. She never saw the fairy again, but every Friday after that she kept her own corner dry, and she did not once ask the rain to stop for anyone else.