Two small outlined pizza slice tattoos in black ink, one on each ankle, shown in a fine line style with feet touching.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching pizza slice tattoos on ankles

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

Two feet rest together on a wooden floor, each with a small pizza slice tattoo on the ankle. The slices are drawn in thin black outline with simple dot details for pepperoni or toppings, and the shading is left open. The pale skin and muted background keep the focus on the matching designs, which are placed at the same angle on each foot.

Fine line Ankle Pizza Pizza slice Food Outline Matching

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

Quarter to midnight, and the cheese had already set hard in the box by the time I reached the flats above the launderette on Harrow Street. Nobody orders one slice at that hour, so I was braced for a fuss when the door opened on its chain and a woman said, 'Is that the order for Lena?' It was a single slice, boxed on its own, and she held out a twenty pound note like it was a passport.

Keep reading

Her flatmate Roz came thundering down the stairs in a dressing gown, pointing at the box. 'That's my slice. I cut the last one, so the one that was left was mine by rights.' Lena said she'd eaten the last one, and Roz said she'd eaten the one before that, and I stood on the step with a cold box in my hands while they argued about the ethics of cheese. In the end I offered the only sensible thing I could think of, which was to split the difference with a biro.

I drew the slice on the back of my order docket: a neat triangle, a crust along the edge, four round dots for pepperoni. Roz said it was too small. Lena said it was perfect and the dots should go exactly where mine were. They spent twenty minutes deciding the angle, then wrote the agreement out in a row of pen marks, each swearing the other could never claim the bigger share again. I left with my tip and the docket still in my pocket.

Some time later a photograph reached me through a friend of a friend, two pairs of bare feet on a wooden floor, a matching slice on each ankle, both pointing the same way. The dots were in exactly the places I'd drawn them. I never did find out who got the bigger share.