Realistic pink rose tattoos across a person's shoulder and upper arm, photographed from behind.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Two pink roses on a shoulder

Realism · Shoulder · Colour · Photo

Two large roses sit side by side across the shoulder, one on the back of the shoulder and one reaching onto the upper arm. The petals are rendered with fine, detailed shading and soft grey tones that give them volume. Pink ink dominates the piece, and the background is a plain skin tone with a dark garment at the lower left.

Realism Botanical Shoulder Upper arm Rose Flower Petal

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

The salt got into everything on Skerrow except my grandmother's roses, which she swore were too stubborn to die of anything but neglect. They grew along the south wall of the manse, pink as the inside of a shell. Every June the wind came over the dyke off the Minch and bent them flat, and every June they lifted their heads again as if nothing had happened.

Keep reading

My brother Callum had a berth on the Tuesday ferry that summer, bound for a deckhand's job on a rig out past Lewis. He didn't want roses. He wanted me to stop following him about the harbour with a face like a wet week. So on the Monday night I went out with the kitchen scissors and cut the two fullest heads, the ones going soft at the edges, and wrapped their stems in a damp tea towel the way Granny did for church.

He took them without a word and tucked them inside his jacket, where the petals bruised against his chest. I watched the ferry round the breakwater with the tide pulling at my boots, and I was still standing there when the light on Sgeir Dubh began its slow count across the water.

Walking home, I found the bush had opened a third flower on the wall where I'd been cutting. It was pale at the centre and deep pink at the rim, with a shadow along one petal as grey as the sea before rain. I didn't cut it. I left it where it was, and when Callum came home a year later with rough hands and a letter from the rig company folded in his pocket, I walked him out to the wall and showed him.