Packaged NFL temporary tattoo sheet showing seven sports designs in maroon, orange and navy, including a helmet, a football and a foam finger, with no tattoo on skin.

NFL temporary tattoo sheet of seven designs

Colour · Flash

A product photograph of an NFL temporary tattoo sheet in its clear plastic packaging, with a black header reading Contains 1 sheet of 7 tattoos. The sheet holds seven printed designs in maroon, orange, navy and white, including a helmet, a football, a foam finger, vertical text bands and several circular team logos. The designs are flat printed graphics with no shading, and the photograph is evenly lit and sharp.

Temporary tattoo Helmet Feather

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

You are on your knees in the nave of Hollin Keep, scraping wet moss off a flagstone, when your torch catches a flash of maroon under the ivy. It is a flat plastic sleeve, sealed and warped, the sort of thing you would buy at a petrol station for a nephew's birthday. Inside are seven transfers: a helmet with a grille, a laced leather ball, a foam hand with one finger raised, two tall bands of capitals standing upright like sentries, and four orange rings, each holding a dark profile with three feathers streaming off it. Someone has written PROPERTY OF on the back in biro, as if it might be claimed.

Keep reading

You carry it up the spiral stair to the gatehouse, where Dilys keeps a kettle going on a camping stove and a grudge against the parish council. She laughs until she coughs. Her brother Emrys, she says, wore this exact sheet to the village fête in 1997 and was sent home for putting the helmet on his forehead during the tug of war. The castle, she adds, has been waiting for the sheet ever since, because the garrison's last muster was never properly stood down.

So you do what anyone would do at two in the afternoon in a ruin. You peel the helmet onto your wrist, the ball onto your ankle, and press the foam finger to the back of your hand, wetting each transfer with the steam from the kettle. The paper slides off its backing and the colours bloom, orange and navy and cream, until the whole keep seems to hum. Outside, far below in the valley, a crowd roars at nothing you can see. The portcullis groans a single inch, rust flaking like confetti, and Dilys sets down her mug and says, quite calmly, that you had better stand up now.