Samual Castilla

> text: chesh 💕჻ me? nasty? I’m an angel 😇 

> text: chesh 💕჻ you always make me wait for it. I might start thinking you just like watching me whine and squirm on your cock ;P

> text: chesh 💕჻ sure it’d be better if I showed you too

> text: chesh 💕჻ doesn’t make it any less fun than making you wait and think bout it~

> text: chesh 💕჻ cmon old man, if I showed up right now wearing nothing but a coat how would you disrespect me? 🥵🥵 if I let you do anything at all how would you take me apart ~

𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔬𝔶~

He’s here because it’s his first day, really – officially, working behind the desk at Out of Line, and he was so excited that he wound up showing up early. But he’d seen people inside, and – as usual – curiosity had gotten the better of him.

He must’ve forgotten that Sam was having a workshop. That or he’d never been told. He can’t remember.

He smiles and steps forward as others are streaming out, “I start today, remember? Or… did I get the date wrong?” He asks, suddenly nervous that that could be the case because, damn, if he can’t keep track of time lately. He looks over his shoulder, then back at Sam, full of that nervous but excited energy. “If it is the wrong day, can I start anyway?”

             “Oh shit! You’re right! I’m so sorry!” Sam passes his fingers through his hair and gestures for Jer to follow him. “Just got a bit of paperwork for yah. You didn’t get the date wrong I just uh-- - Well. You know. Been a little busy.” It’s a good time for getting a tattoo. People can keep them covered until they’re healed and show them off in the summer. “Set up a pretty good little workshop too. I think it turned out okay.” Sam pats at Jer’s shoulder affectionately.                He’d met the kid twice, but it was a good interaction both times, and J had spoken highly of him, and the interview told him that Jer was competent enough to be their little greeter. More than, actually. Jer was probably overqualified, but that’s okay.                Samual leads Jer back to his little office at the back. It’s jammed full of stuff. Extra supplies, the printer, a desk with a computer on it and two chairs. Messy. But somehow still inviting. “Thanks for comin’. And remembering that you were startin’ today because I clearly don’t have my shit together enough to keep dates straight.” Honestly he’s about four days behind. “You’re already a good fit!” 

>> text: sammy << You’d probably like him, he’s the coolest dork I know >> text: sammy << Man, you have no idea, I’ve loved him for a long time >> text: sammy << I actually wanna talk to you about something, kinda heavy, u good with that?

             Getting an appointment set up was a little tricky. Sam’s onboarding the new kid, and he’s got to make sure he has enough time for a consult beforehand so he can be sure that Alexa’s actually happy with what he’s drawn up. But they managed it and when she arrives, Samual leads her back to his little cubicle. It sees far less use than some of the other rooms in the shop but that’s okay. It’s decorated with his favorite works, most recent a gorgeous traditional moth in teal.             “Alright! Hop up for me?” he gestured to the seat before he took his own on the stool. “I got a few things for you to look at and we’ll work them until you’re in love with it, alright?” Samual flipped the tablet around to show her his first concept. A mermaid (who looks vaguely like Alexa herself) beautiful and just this side of scary, holding a wrecked ship in her palm. “This isn’t the only one so, we’ll keep going until you find something that fits and then we’ll work that until it’s good. That’s why I booked you for like five hours. 

>> text: sammy << I’m sure he won’t mind, he likes a little 🐱 from time to time >> text: sammy << Yeah definitely not the chest, man, Brody would kill us both >> text: sammy << He’s got the best everything, it’s outrageous. Talk about sugar daddy 🤑 at least where you and I are standing >> text: sammy << I’m… good? might need someone to talk to, though. Brody doesn’t get it. ur a good friend, man

>> text: sammy << idk if it’s all that juicy >> text: sammy << It is a long time, at least I’ll be in good hands. Good to know that you’ll be hanging out too >> text: sammy << Maybe when I start to feelin’ better??? >> text: sammy << Can’t taunt me with tattoos then take it away 😂😂

> text: chesh 💕჻ oh? so you don’t mind a little filthy talk > text: chesh 💕჻ it’s more exciting knowing you can’t do a thing but sit there letting your imagination go wild > text: chesh 💕჻ maybe I’ll come over later~ ;) > text: chesh 💕჻ right now I want to know what you’d do to me~ > text: chesh 💕჻ respectfully of course 🥵

>> text: sammy << new year, new parts >> text: sammy << yeah! he’s an old friend of mine, actually, i’ll have to tell you all about it >> text: sammy << we should do both, definitely both. probably at least 6 weeks i’d think?

         Samual’s packing up. The initial workshop went pretty well, he thought. He’s got some time before the shop opens to make sure that he’s all picked up and that anybody that has additional questions about tattooing has a little one on one time. Learning in a group can be difficult. And tall they did this time was start learning about the gun and art appreciation.            Sam pushes one of the tables back to where it belongs before he notices that someone hung back. He shot them a warm, amicable smile. “Hey, man! Thanks for comin’.” He’d probably be charging a little more when they break the inks and such out. But this time it was quick. And Samual’s pretty sure that he’s ignited the love in at least a few young people.          “What’s up?” 

>> text: sammy << 🤣🤣🤣 >> text: sammy << real sorry to have to break the news man. also i don’t mind paying you, it just sucks. bad timing. >> text: sammy << i’m gonna be staying with my partner, he’s a doctor, but if you got any free days i’m sure i’ll be lonely and would love to hang

@outoflineinc

>> text: sammy << bad news, bro >> text: sammy << they’re cutting me open, so they’re cutting open your beautiful work 😔

>> text : sir thomas <<

- @outoflineinc

> text: chesh 💕჻ so it’s almost midnight

> text: chesh 💕჻ is it in bad taste if I say I’ve been thinking about you all day? cause I was sitting at work and all I could think about were your hands

> text: chesh 💕჻ that and your cock ;)

> text: chesh 💕჻ going out on a limb and gonna say it…sam I wanna choke on it

> text: chesh 💕჻ respectfully of course

𝒸𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓊

Claire smiles at the man when he turns around, immediately aware that he’s quite handsome and has this soft demeanor to him that doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of the atmosphere. Leave it to her to find the one person who doesn’t frequent these sorts of spots.

It makes her smile widen, though, knowing that she’s tapped on the shoulder of the one guy who doesn’t drink champagne or really expensive scotch. “Wow!” She breathes out, reaching instinctively for the coin to look at it. Ten years, it’s impressive. “That’s quite the feat! I’m proud of you. You drink your water, I’ll drink enough champagne for the both of us.” She doesn’t have addictive tendencies.

“I’m celebrating a new me!” Claire responds enthusiastically, her laugh musical as she reaches over and clinks his water glass with her champagne flute and takes a drink. “And your ten years of sobriety. There’s no reason we can’t celebrate them both, huh?” Nothing was getting in the way of her fun tonight. “I’m Claire, by the way. Thanks for tolerating an enthusiastic stranger.”

                  Sam can’t help but laugh, “Alright. Sounds good to me.” That’s a lot of champagne, but he’s nto going to stop her. Especially if she’s celebrating, as she’s said, a new her. He clinks his glass back with her and takes a long pull of his water to celebrate. His laugh is warm as he sets his cup back down and fixes her with a grin. “That’s true enough. We can celebrate both!” And so they would.                      Ten years is nothing to sneeze at, after all.                      He gave her hand a firm shake. “Samual. Friends call me Sam. Hey! You’re enthusiasm is well deserved! You drink that champagne. You celebrate a new you! I’m assuming you moved here recently then, huh? New York’s a good place to build a new you, that’s for sure.” Sam had never left, but there were opportunities just about everywhere. Not just job opportunities either.                    “It’s very nice to meet the new you, Claire. She’s lovely.” He takes his chip back and gives it an appreciative rub before he sticks it back in his pocket. 

-

“How often do people actually mess it up?” Billy wonders out loud, curious about how obedient and careful his clients are. “Do you ever get people coming in, complaining about how awful their tattoo is purely because they took such bad care of it?” He hopes not many, but there’s always people out there who neglect even the smallest things.

Everyone reacts so shocked when he suggests neurology, as if he’s going to change the world. At most he’ll change some people’s lives, and spend most of his studying for it. “It’s not for everyone, that’s for sure,” he agrees, knowing he struggles with it too, sometimes. “I do still have some time to try out different things before I choose, but they already want us to choose our preferences so we can start to narrow it down.”

              “Not too often, but often enough that I feel like it’s really important that I try and make sure I let people know.” A lot of the time it’s people that get overly confident. At least in Sam’s experience. Taking care of tattoos while they’re healing isn’t hard. It’s just a few extra steps in the daily routine and ultimately it’s worth it. At least in his opinion. “You know, if they do come in and say ‘oh man I lost so much ink during the healing process.’ I’ll generally ask a few questions. Make sure they did whatever they could to keep the ink. Some skin doesn’t like it. Gets rid of it better’n most, y’know?” And he doesn’t mind touching those ones up. “If they took bad care of it, I’m gonna discount the touch-up but. Y’know sometimes it just happens. Not gonna penalize somebody when they tried to keep it from happenin’, y’know?”                 He just wasn’t that kind of guy.                  Getting blood safety certified was plenty for him. “That’s really cool, though. You like it?” Because as far as Sam was concerned, liking the subject was half the battle. He could probably go back to school. Find something he was passionate about. But he wasn’t going to, actually. Because Samaul was more than happy to be here, doing what he does. This is what he’s passionate about. And they don’t teach that at college. “How close are you?”

**

Bambi was cringing when they got splashed with just a drop of the coffee but it didn’t matter. Their caring nature for others overshadowed anything they were feeling at the moment in favor of the person in front of them. “Don’t apologize, really, it was my arm that smacked into you,” they said with a small shake of their head.

How many times had they told themselves to pay more attention to their surroundings when they were outside of the hospital? “I would agree to watch where you’re going but honestly, this time was completely my fault. Sorry about your coffee.” Pushing the sleeves up of their jacket briefly, they checked out the arm that the coffee had hit with a relieved sigh. No damage. Running their fingers over the tattoos on their arm, they looked back up to Sebastian. “Do you want another coffee or something? I got a little too into the Christmas spirit so I feel I should make it up to you somehow.”

              As true as that might have been, Sam still felt bad. How could he not feel bad? Their outfit was nearly ruined because he too wasn’t paying attention. Sam offered a broad smile and shook his head, “Guess we bought oughta be careful, huh?” They didn’t get burned, which was good. Samual was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he’d actually hurt them by being a complete dumbass.                  It took Sam a moment to reply because he was a little busy checking out the ink on their arm. “Huh? Oh-- - I’d love another coffee, but I can buy it. I’ll get you one too if you’ll tell me about your tattoos...” Because that’s his job. Even if he doesn’t have a ton of tattoos to show for it. “You thinkin’ about getting anymore? I’ve got-- - My card here somewhere...” Because they seem like a cool person and Sam’s always looking to give people direction when he can.                  And if that means directing them to his shop, even better. “‘m Samual. Sam. Whatever. I’m a tattoo artist, it’s not weird, I promise.” 

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