Colour traditional tattoo of a blue police box, a red rose and a gold pocket watch on the outer thigh above the knee.

Police box, rose and pocket watch on a thigh

Traditional · Thigh · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a blue police box with POLICE BOX lettering, a large red rose with green leaves, and a gold pocket watch with Roman numerals, set against orange flame-like shading. The outlines are bold and the shading is smooth and saturated. The motifs are arranged in a tight cluster that wraps around the outer thigh above the knee.

Traditional Thigh Police box Tardis Rose Pocket watch Roman numeral Leaves Flame

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

Nell had counted the bricks of the phone box three times before the watch stopped ticking in her coat pocket, and by then the rain had soaked through to her collar. The box stood where the bus shelter used to be on Sidney Street, its blue paint blistered at the corners, its little lamp making the wet pavement shine like hammered tin. Somebody had pushed a red rose through the letter slot, stem and all, and the petals were already browning at the edges.

Keep reading

She had not meant to come back here. The watch had belonged to her grandfather, a signalman who swore the Roman numerals ran one hour early on purpose, so nobody on the line could ever be late. Its back was engraved with fine scrollwork she had traced with her thumb a thousand times. Tonight it had ticked fast all the way from the station, then gone still at the twelve, as if waiting for someone to say the right word.

The door creaked open. Warm air rolled out smelling of oranges and burnt sugar, and a flame no bigger than a match flickered above the roof where the lamp should have been. Nell stepped inside before she could argue with herself. The room was far larger than the outside had any right to be, lined with brass levers and a chair with one leg mended in tin.

She set the watch on the console beside the rose. For a moment nothing happened. Then the hands spun backwards, the flame leapt, and the whole box hummed like a kettle. "Right," she said to nobody. "The signal box, the day before he died." The door swung shut behind her, and the rose, for the first time that night, opened.