Three small solid black star tattoos sit behind an ear, beside a silver stud earring, on pale skin with brown hair pulled back.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Three small stars behind the ear

Other · Black and grey · Photo

A close side view of skin behind an ear shows three small, solid black, five-pointed star shapes arranged in a loose triangle. The outlines are crisp and the stars are filled with flat black ink, with no shading or gradient. The soft natural skin tones and blurred brown hair leave the black ink as the clear focus, with a silver stud earring visible above.

Other Star Ear

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

Mind the lock, the lot of you, and sit down before the kettle sings. No, Tilly, the bow rope stays where it is. Now. You want to know about the three stars over the Ouse bend, and I'll tell it once, so hush.

Keep reading

Old Harry Pell had the narrowboat Marigold the year the canal froze solid from Naseby to the weir. He had a dog called Sixpence and a debt to a man in Banbury, and he had the stars, which were the only things on the water that never asked him for money. Every night he'd lash the tiller and look up for the three that sat in a crooked triangle above the willows, the way starlings settle on a wire. Those three told him where the channel ran under the ice, because the ice was thinnest where the water ran fast, and the water ran fast where the stars sat over it.

One January night the mist came down like wet wool and the stars went out. Harry stood at the tiller with a lantern in his teeth and no idea which way was home. Sixpence sat on his boots and growled at nothing. Then the mist tore a hole, just wide enough, and there they were, three black points on the grey, hardly bigger than sparks off a forge. He steered for the gap between them, and the Marigold slid through the thin place with a sound like a long sigh.

They say he never trusted a lamp after that. Mind, he never did pay the man in Banbury either, so you'll decide for yourselves which of his habits was the sensible one. Now give me that cup, and somebody fetch the dog.