#uv ink tattoo

[keekeejames]

UV biblically accurate angel for Valerie.

Done in my studio (IG vacationforever.tattoo) in NY.

If you want something like this DM me on IG - keekee3.0

[chesseran]

Tattooing practice on rubber sheet n_n

[bodymodificationnation]

UV / Blacklight Tattoos

By neon__dream

[devotron]

Secret tattoo

[danndesigns]

My Transformers rubsign tattoo

I had an idea to get a G1 rubsign tattoo in two sessions. First, the black shape and square border, and after that healed adding UV tattoo ink over the black to look just like a G1 rubsign.

My tattoo artist didn’t trust the UV ink would take over black, so I reversed the rubsign silver and black areas to make the design possible.

Now the Decepticon symbol isn’t hidden, but I still think it looks neat :)

[sheltiechicago]

Amazing UV Ink Tattoos Glow With Blue ‘UVealism’ With a Blacklight

As tattoos continue to permeate cultures, tattooists are innovating their designs and techniques like never before. Sydney-based artist Jonny Hall is using ultraviolet light to add a blue glow to his realistic body art. He’s dubbed the approach UVealism—a clever portmanteau of UV (ultraviolet) and realism. The unique UV ink enhances elements of the tattoo to make it come to life when under a blacklight.

[lizardlicks]

I made Yu'zei!

Hey look! I made a picrew! It's for elves! Make an elf!

[nykloss]

I know those "1 year tattoos" are bullshit but is there actually a way to experience the sensation of a tattoo without committing to artwork. Idk I feel like getting a tattoo would be like a physically meditative experience for me like personally but I do not want to commit to artwork.

[tap1rs]

(welp)

[whumpwonders]

This makes no sense but I was thinking about invisible ink and how that could be used in whump (not sure why, but hey) and came up with the idea of a Whumper that would 'write' things on Whumpee's skin with a pen while psychologically torturing them, like a non-painful form of branding. Only instead of this scaring Whumpee further, it just confused them because "Whumper that pen does not work."

At the time, Whumpee found it a little funny. Whumper would say so many horrific things while tracing their words over Whumpee's skin, writing over their face, their hands, their back. But no ink was ever visible, it just tickled...

...until Whumpee is rescued by the Team/Caretaker and one day ends up in a situation involving ultraviolet light.

It turns out the pen did work after all. Not only did it work, but it worked well. It was just invisible under normal conditions. The moment Whumpee stepped beneath the UV light, every monstrous thing Whumper had ever said became readily available for the Team to read. Despite being free from Whumper for months, the ink still stained Whumpee's skin, like some kind of twisted tattoo.

Now the Team has to figure out what to do with everything they've just learned, and Whumpee has to figure out how they're going to live knowing that no matter how hard they try to forget, they will never be free of Whumper's words.

[keekeejames]

2 years healed tattoos, done in Paris

I’m based in NYC but often do guest spots around the world, check me out on IG to see where I’m at - keekee3.0

[sigilmint]

Finally finally sharing my latest~ I am so forever grateful to my best friend Hax for always being down to make my tattoo dreams come true! The orange ink is UV-light-reactive, and the swirly magic was all designed freehand.

[yourfairygodmotherorsomething]

At the turn of the year @kartakyber was doing some chibi commissions to fundraise for Palastine, and drew these absolutely spectacular Corries for a fic I only just finished.

come check out Hound, Thorn and Thire in all of their chibi glory, including Thire’s Mythosaur tattoo.

Cosme tattooed it in uv ink so it only shows up under a blacklight unless someone has the ability to see that spectrum (thus torturing Senator Halle Burtoni every time she sees him with his bucket off, as she deserves!)

they still bring me so much joy so many months later, and I’m so excited to share them!

[bodymodificationnation]

Tattoo Categories

Art Styles:

Tattoos On Dark Skin

Black And White Tattoos

Blackout Tattoos

Neo Traditional Tattoos

Minimalist Tattoos

Red Ink Tattoos

White Ink Tattoos

Blue Ink Tattoos

Ornamental Tattoos

UV / Blacklight Tattoos

Glitter Tattoos

Crayon Inspired Tattoos 

Location:

Face Tattoos

Eyeball Tattoos

Eyelid Tattoos

Ear Tattoos

Neck Tattoos

Chest Tattoos

Back Tattoos

Stomach Tattoos

Hand Tattoos

Palm Tattoos

Finger Tattoos

Feet Tattoos

Common Themes: 

Flower Tattoos

Food Tattoos

Anime Tattoos 

Disney Tattoos

Skull / Skeleton Tattoos

Sword Tattoos

Pokemon Tattoos

Crystal / Gem Tattoos

Fairy Tattoos

Crown Tattoos

Harry Potter Tattoos

Lord Of The Rings Tattoos

Marvel Tattoos

DC Tattoos

Hourglass Tattoos

Animal Tattoos:

All Animal Tattoos

Bird Tattoos | Owl Tattoos | Duck Tattoos

Cat Tattoos

Dog Tattoos

Tiger Tattoos

Lion Tattoos

Cheetah / Leopard Tattoos

Frog Tattoos

Shark Tattoos

Elephant Tattoos

Snake Tattoos

Whale Tattoos

Lizard Tattoos

Insect Tattoos:

Butterfly Tattoos

Moth Tattoos

Bee Tattoos

Ladybug Tattoos

[tigertan]

neighborly favors and chicago cigarettes. [ jellybeans. ]

part two of said slow burn fic ^_^ this is mainly a snippet but there is some silly smut incoming in the full chapter oooops ..

part one [ mac n cheese ]

ao3 link

[ word count ; 1k ]

;; all fluff. awkward meeting again. carmen takes a strange interest in your nails.

your new acrylic nails gleamed in the cold sun of chicago’s morning as they curled around your steering wheel. a pretty candy pink, nothing fancy. they were short and blunt to maximize efficiency, and you’d always liked doing your nails. 

with your new job starting tomorrow, you arranged a nail appointment early this sunday morning just to get it out of the way. 

you rounded the corner of the apartment building's back parking lot and hopped out of your car into the complex. 

despite your freshly scrubbed face and still damp hair from the morning shower, yesterday night’s chicago smoke lingered both on your skin and your memories. the mild hangover you’d gotten was bravely fought off with a fistful of tylenol and gallons of water.  

after finally finding something in common with carmy, sydney rushed out and began apologizing for richie’s behavior, to which you’d reassured her it wasn’t a big deal. you’d just avoid him your entire life after that. because while you weren’t in the wrong, it was an embarrassingly public outburst that burned itself into those moments your brain would never let you forget. 

sydney decided to take you home at that moment, and you didn’t complain. 

you nodded a bye to carmy with a smile still stuck with a cigarette and he’d nodded back, unsmiling.

it was only after you’d wrapped the covers around you did you realize you never asked him if his name was really carmy. 

oh well, you guys were neighbors. you were bound to see him anyway. 

you hummed a song to yourself— specifically frank sinatra’s classic hit, rain in my heart— as you climbed up the stairs and turned the staircase straight into a brick wall. 

but that couldn’t be right, because why did it stumble back at the impact at the same time you did? 

the answer was easy; it wasn’t a wall. it was the tightly fitted cotton-shirted chest/face of your neighbor carmy. his awful brown jacket was thrown across his right bicep, and you could see his tattoos much more clearly. the numbers on his fingers weren't numbers, they were three letters of ‘SOU’ on his index, middle, and ring respectively. 

there was also an inked flower on the back of the same hand, and further up his arm was a measuring cup carrying a globe. you noticed he had more but stepped back too quickly to discern others. 

your nose stings lightly at the impact, and you raise a hand to hold it, eyes widening. a tiny part of you wonders if he is going to yell at you. 

“shit,” you say, blinking. 

“sorry, i didn’t see you,” 

“are you okay— sorry,” 

you both spoke at the same time, which pushed a smile out your lips, and you giggled. so he wasn’t going to yell at you.

“sorry,” you whisper, a grin peeking out from either side of the hand in front of your face. he blinks, the chicago morning sky making his already ice-blue eyes seem ever clearer. 

“you uh— your nails,” he blurted, a muscle in his temple shifting as the words nearly burst from his lips. 

it takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about, but you lower your hand and splay it out, the uv coat catching the light perfectly. 

“oh! yes. nails. got 'em done a few minutes ago.” you explain, giving him another quick smile. “they uh, they’re nice. like jellybeans.” but the compliment, if you could even call it that, was stamped out with deliberate volume and a strained edge of a rather inept tone that creased your brow despite your smile. 

“... thank you,” you reply, absentmindedly running your thumb over the groove of the keys in your pocket. 

he watches your hand fall back beside you and then swallows. 

“do you like—“

“is your—“ 

your voices overlapped once more, and this time he smiled too, curving into his left cheek and carmy released a singular, airy laugh. 

“sorry. uh. you go ahead,” he gestured to you, flicking his eye contact from you to the floor. “yeah, sorry.” you grinned with genuine humor now, “is your, is your real name carmy? sorry, i just heard syd say that last night and i just…” you trailed off, the question sounding dumb and cold on your tongue now that you said it aloud. he blinked again. “uh. no— no. it’s a nickname. for– for carmen. carmen berzatto.” 

he extends his hand out as if you had guys met for the first time. finding it endearing, you take it, a gel-nailed hand clasping the weathered, inked one. 

“were you heading to work?” you ask, and after a momentary silence, he nods, then scrunches his brows and quickly shakes it, the oat-colored curls on his head bouncing. 

“hm? no, just… heading out. kitchen doesn’t open until four today,” he replies, carding a hand through his hair. 

you mouth a silent oh and nod back. 

“well uh, it was good to see you neighbor,” you grin and step the side lightly, breaking the awkward yet giddy conversation that had transpired. 

“yeah. yeah, you too.” carmen gave you a half-smile back, nodding a final time as he passed by you, his hair bouncing as he walked down the stairs, not looking back. 

you did, however, watch until his curls disappeared behind the coffee wood and industrial metal of the stairs. 

you realized you didn’t ask him what he wanted to ask until you’d slotted your key into the lock with a smile. 

—

carmen slammed his car door behind him as he sat, cushioned in the faux leather seat, hands firm on the steering wheel. he stared directly in front of him, boring holes into the dusty red brick of the building wall, sky tinted a slight grey from the windows. 

“jellybeans? really carmen?” he sighs-slash-scoffs, running a hand over his face before fumbling his keys out of the jacket pocket. brows scrunching, the man hesitates before putting the keys into the ignition. despite the faint alarm bells going off in his mind— they seemed to always be there anyway— he twists in the front seat to look behind him at the building entrance as if she’d walk out of the large, heavy-duty door at that moment. 

for a moment or two, he stares. but the reality of it catches up to him in flushed, heated cheeks and brows creasing further. “fuckin’ stupid.” he mutters, finally shoving the keys into the car as the engine purred to life. it was odd how the light from yesterday’s cigarette had bent around her mouth despite the unforgiving fluorescence of the alleyway, and made carmen stare. 

but that’s all. she was only enough to stare at, he concluded with a steely grip on the wheel. with the bear at its peak, how could he do anything but stare? 

he pulls into the back of the bear’s parking lot with the recipe for a spaghetti alla carbonara stuck in his head and a smile stuck in the corner of his mouth. 

—

for more / updates check out the ao3 !

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024, #28 empty

Chapters 1 to 4 here on AO3

If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!

+++++

White Pony Tattoo - Part Eight (empty)

John followed Sherlock through another door that lead into a narrow and dim corridor and then into a tiny hall. There was one flight of stairs leading upwards and one leading down, Sherlock chose to go downstairs.

When they arrived in the basement, John felt the change in temperature and moisture. It was a bit damp down here where the old Victorian groundwork had been built into the London soil. John shivered involuntarily.

Sherlock, of course, observed John twitching and reassured him that the dampness was only tangible in the basement hall but not inside 221c.

“Don’t worry, I had the previously unoccupied basement flat modernized and insulated. I need a perfect room climate in there.”

Sherlock took out a key and fiddled with the lock.

For someone as nimble as Sherlock not directly hitting the keyhole was just implausible, so John suspected that he was just putting on a show. Drawing out the moment of reveal what lay behind the mysterious door like a seasoned magician who captivates the audience with every move of his fingers.

To John’s own amusement, he realized that he was holding his breath, filled with excitement. When John shivered once more, this time it was not due to the temperature.

“Ta-Daaaa!”

Sherlock finally had opened the door with a flourish and stepped aside so that John could get an unhindered view into the room.

John gasped and glanced at Sherlock whose face radiated pride and happiness.

It was a laboratory.

It was a completely equipped chemistry laboratory. John spotted two microscopes on a large worktable in the middle of the room. The walls were lined with workbenches and shelves, stuffed with lab supplies and glassware and notebooks. There was a spectrometer, a gas-phase chromatograph and other devices John didn’t know. A high-speed table centrifuge and a whole destillation setup including an absorption column occupied the central worktable besides the microscopes.

Stunned and overwhelmed, John entered, hearing that Sherlock was right behind him, closing the door.

“Wow, that’s fantastic. I’d never have guessed you have a whole lab down here.”

John turned around to get a panorama view of the room. On the wall beside the entrance door John saw a custom-made wooden display cabinet. It contained numerous tiny phials made of brown glass. Each sported a plain white label with a number and letter combination scribbled onto in spidery script.

All the while, Sherlock watched John taking in the lab he had created and a warm wave of deep affection for the doctor rose in him.

“Oh, is this your ink-laboratory?” John exclaimed, suddenly understanding.

“Very good, John.”

“You’re making your own inks here? I’ve never heard of someone doing this before. This level of perfection.” John looked at Sherlock, full of awe.

“That’s because I’m the only one. I’ve invented the customized ink and I have patented the process.” Sherlock preened.

“But how…” John started.

“I’m a graduate chemist, John. A very good one.” Sherlock lost himself in John’s ocean-blue eyes.

“Brilliant.” John whispered, staring back into Sherlock’s eyes that had changed their colour again into a bright cerulean blue.

Sherlock broke eye contact first. “I need to take a tiny sample of the skin at your arm, John. It won’t hurt.”

“I’m all yours.” I could be yours forever, if you want me.

Sherlock launched into work and into a rapid-fire explanation of what the customisation of ink meant. He talked about tiny aberrations in the acidity of the clients’ skin, the obvious varying nuances of skin colour. How long the skin had been exposed to the sunlight and would be in the future. Aging processes, UV-resistance and so on and on. All in the name of creating a long-lasting, never-fading and perfect ink for this one special customer.

Sometimes John understood what Sherlock explained, being a medical man. Other times he had no idea what Sherlock was on about. It didn’t matter. John was fascinated by Sherlock’s enthusiam and zeal, he practically radiated it like a sun.

Early on in the lab, Sherlock had quickly discarded the cool and detached, even stand-offish demeanour he had shown when they had first met today. It had been replaced with a contagious child-like joy when Sherlock was totally in his element, explaining his thoughts and experiments and showing John how the destillation apparatus worked.

The 35 minutes that John spent with Sherlock together in the lab, were the most intense he had ever experienced, his time during combat in Afghanistan included.

John was the centre of Sherlock’s world, the one fixed point Sherlock focused all of his attention on. It had been a heady feeling and was nearly too much to take in all at once.

Never before, John had felt so seen, so understood, so known by another human being.

Afterwards, they had said goodbye and exchanged their telephone numbers to keep in touch.

They had also exchanged a spontaneous hug, one that came across as a bit awkward on Sherlock’s side as if he was not accustomed to doing such gestures of sentiment.

Back outside the shop, John felt an enormous emptiness encrouching on him. It threatened to swallow him whole and drag him down into the endless lightless depths of a cold ocean.

John was alone.

++++++

tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs @lisbeth-kk  @raina-at  @calaisreno