A small dotwork tattoo of a smiling cartoon ghost with red cheeks, on an area of skin with the placement not clearly visible.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Smiling ghost with dotted outline

Dotwork · Other · Mixed · Photo

A small cartoon ghost with a dotted outline, black dot eyes, a open smile and red blush marks on its cheeks, with arms raised to each side. The linework is built entirely from individual black dots, with no solid lines, and the red cheeks are the only colour. The ghost sits centrally on plain skin with a little dark ink visible at the top right corner.

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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

Now, you lot hush, because Sister Agnes swore this happened on the children's ward at St Brendan's, the winter the boiler gave out. It was gone two in the morning and the corridor lights were turned down to the colour of weak tea.

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Nurse Doreen Pike was doing her rounds with a torch clamped in her teeth when she noticed the bed by the window was empty, though the blankets were still turned back and warm. Little Ivor Cole had been put there that evening with a rattling cough, and now he was nowhere to be found. She followed a trail of tiny black specks across the lino, as if someone had dragged a pen with a pinhole in it, and they led her to the linen cupboard.

Inside, Ivor sat on a pile of folded sheets, giggling, with a pale little ghost hovering above his head. It had a round face, two black dot eyes, and a smile wide enough to hold a custard cream. Its arms went up as if it had just caught a ball. Every bit of it was made of dots, the way starlings look from the ward window at dusk, and when it spotted Doreen it blushed pink on both cheeks.

Doreen opened her mouth to scold, but the ghost floated out past her, waved at the nurses' station, and slipped through the fire door like a draught. Ivor slept soundly until breakfast. Doreen never did find where the dots went, though she swore the lino shone for a month after. Now, bed, all of you. Go on.

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