[ it's just a tattoo - pafp - gxg ]

  • [ plot ] muse a was the kid that grew up on strict discipline, one that was raised to believe only few things were right moral wise. They were rather fine growing up like this despite the strict rules but like most teens they get a urge to rebel. You see, muse a had dreamed about one day getting a tattoo. Their parents, on the other hand, had nightmares about such things. In their mind inking your skin was one of the worst things possible. Now 18, unable to even admit the idea to her parents, muse a continues on with her life until one night she is dragged to a gay club/bar with her friends, one of them somewhat getting them access into the place. Over night the friends somewhat disappear with either hookups or drunken pals, leaving muse a alone at the bar to sulk. This is where muse b comes into play. Muse b is a well known tattoo artist and piercing master and happens to be at the same club, only to spot the sulking muse a. Unaware that the girl is not even 21 or over, muse b offers the girl a drink with her signature flirty smile. What happens when muse b offers to tattoo the younger girl for free, in exchange the girl promising to return if her parents get upset or kick her out? Will muse a take the chance or will she go by her parent's rules?

    - I will be playing muse b.

    [ my character ] name: amber wells

    age: 24

    sexuality: homosexual

    gender: female

    appearance: amber is a tall girl with a slim yet fit frame. she has short black hair that is usually swooped to the right side and also has two sleeves of multiple tattoos.

    [ first post ] I gave a small hum as I made my way through the sweaty and dancing crowd, managing to push through and catch gaze of the bar. Just as I was about to hunt down a open seat I laid gaze on a girl, one that looked a bit young but hey, I wouldn't judge. Walking up to the bar, I easily slipped into the seat by her side and gave her my usual charming grin. "Hey there, beautiful. Would you mind if I bought you a drink or two?" I asked her with a quirky grin, my eyes trailing up and down as I scanned the girl over.

  • [center][fancypost=width:450px;text-align:justify;]The music is loud. Not irritatingly so, if anything I could appreciate the thundering blare and the way it managed to overpower whatever thoughts lurked in my mind. Bodies dance and worm together behind me - everybody's clearly having a good time, in a sprout of pettiness, I refuse to turn my gaze towards the dance floor and instead keep my gaze trained on the sleek top of the bar, chipped in certain areas but otherwise aesthetically pleasing. I'm guessing that I'd been here for a couple of hours, at first it was fun and then slowly my friends began to drift off until I was alone and awkward in the center of the club. So here I was, sitting at the bar alone, bottom lip sliding out in an evident pout, the risk of getting kicked out long forgotten in my mind yet still a possibility.

    If my parents found out that I was at a bar, that I was at a gay bar, I could say bye to whatever freedom that I'd managed to earn - despite the fact that I was already an adult. I knew the extent of their control, I knew what they thought was right and wrong and I knew that this certainly wasn't on their list of 'acceptable'. Just like getting a tattoo would probably send my mother into the grave from a heart attack. "Your skin is smooth and perfect, Cecily, don't you ever think of tainting it." She would say if I tried to dare and tell her "Could you bare to see your poor mother so upset?" I knew what my parent's anger would be, but I couldn't shake the thought of tattoos, call it a youthful urge to rebel if you wanted. Still... I knew it was nothing more than a distant dream and I was stuck in dreary reality - forced to live my life as usual.

    I'm sure I must've looked either gloomy or bratty with the way I was sulking at the bar, which was why I was far from expecting anybody to take the empty seat next to me, unless it was a guard suddenly suspicious of the baby fat that still plumped my cheeks.

    I ignored the person for a moment, expecting them to order drinks and be on their way, except then there was a voice, an oddly captivating and alluring voice, one that made me look upwards with curious eyes. When I saw her, I think my heart stopped. She was... Everything I wanted to be. Tall, beautiful, tattoos etched along her arms in interesting designs. She spoke with charisma and her lips quirked upwards into the most interesting smile I'd ever seen. I swore I'd seen her before, somewhere... It took a few seconds, but eventually my memories were generous and reminded me of a photo I'd seen once. A photo that my friend had shown me. It was that incredibly popular tattoo artist... and wasn't she also amazing at piercings? I remember my friend going on and on about how they'd kill to get inked by her and here she was, right infront of me.

    On any other day I would've died on the spot, but right now, my mood was still doured with self-pity and despite the fact that I offered a smile, I'm sure that I still looked a little upset. Then again... I also happened to be cheering up each second that this woman stayed seated beside me.

    "Drink?" I repeated, feeling my cheeks heat in an uncomfortable blush. I didn't know if I was flustered because she was offering the alcohol, because she'd called me beautiful, or because of her reputation. Maybe all of the above and more. "I'd like that." My agreement came quickly after. I'm sure I was a bit awkward, but she had an aura about her that naturally made it easy to feel comfortable.

    "Your tattoos..." I muttered without thinking, the words spilling out before my brain-mouth filter could stop them. "They're really... they're really interesting."


    he died every night to let her breathe

  • I couldn't help but let out a quirky chuckle alongside another wide and toothy grin. For some reason this girl interested me. Maybe because she needed a bit of cheering or maybe because simply she was appeal and cute. Either way she definitely caught my attention.

    "Two drinks please, one for the pretty lady." I called out to the bartender, earning a chuckle and quick nod as she went to work on the drinks. I glanced back to the girl almost instantly, my eyebrow quirking. I could tell at this point she was not even close to being over 21, just because of how she addressed it like a question when I offered her a drink. Either way I had no issue buying her drinks, simply because I always did the same when I was younger. Anyways, she looked about 18 so it wasn't like I was buying drinks for a 16 year old or something.

    When I heard her bring up my tattoos I gave a small hum of amusement. "Ah, well, tattoos are my profession, darling. But thank you, I'll take that as a compliment. I love compliments from beautiful girls like you." I replied, sending her a small and flirtatious wink. It was then the bartender came over, placing both a drink in front of me and the girl.

  • [center][fancypost=width:450px;text-align:justify;]The drink was a quick thing to divert my gaze towards, mostly in attempt to hide the increasing redness that saw fit to invite the usually pale sheen of my skin. The coolness of the glass was savoured as I took a moment to examine the contents. The furthest I'd gotten with alcohol was beer at the parties I managed to sneak off to under the pretext of having sleepovers with friends. This looked a bit fancier than simple beer, though I was far from being able to put a name on it.

    I took a sip, sweet yet with a strong tang to it, I tried to avoid biting my lip. No adult would wince so quickly at the taste. Besides, after I took another few sips, the warm tingle it gave when it traveled down my throat was nothing but appreciated. It took a little while of mentally preparing myself, but I turned back towards the woman, trying not to notice how my heart fluttered upon meeting her deep gaze.

    I guess this was either my lucky day or she really was a gift from the gods.

    "I um, I've always wanted a tattoo but..." I started, a bit hesitant to mention my parents in full, no doubt that would kill my pride. Perhaps it might seem odd for a self-claimed adult to still live by her parent's rules, but not too odd, right? "My parents are... purists." The words were meek, a bit flustered, yet thankfully I kept my gaze to her's, only flickering down once to take in the art across her arms. "I think I'm a little bit jealous of you."


    he died every night to let her breathe

  • I gave a small yet soft chuckle, listening to her comments with a look of amusement sketched on my face.

    "Ah, strict parents. Understandable." I paused, giving my dry lips a quick lick before I took a sip of my drink. Ah, nothing better than the burn it gave my throat.

    "I could always give you a free tattoo. it's a shame seeing such a pretty girl without a little ink, anyways. I've always found it a pleasure to give first tattoos on such pretty skin." I chuckled out, hoping it didn't sound weird. It wasn't creepy at all to me, just appealing. It was like a artist taking their first stroke with a brand new brush or pencil, the feeling just pleasing. Also I always loved being the first tattoo artist they go to, since everyone can remember their first tattoo. No matter how far you get into tattoos I assure you everyone I tattoo or know can name the person who did their first tattoo or where they got it.

  • [center][fancypost=width:450px;text-align:justify;]I'm sure that my reaction was nothing but a stupid ogling look; lips slightly falling open and eyes widening. Had I heard right? Had she really offered a tattoo? And for free? Of course, my first reaction was for my heart to stutter and excitment to run heavy in my mind, hadn't I dreamed about this? The words 'of course' were on the tip of my tongue, but something caused me stop and rethink that.

    The more rational side of me of course had to make an appearence and of course had to remind me just hat trouble I'd get in if my mother so much as saw a trace of ink on my skin, she'd make sure I didn't leave the house until I could afford my own and if I couldn't leave the house, I couldn't have a job so techinically, I'd be locked up until the end of time.

    Maybe it was the drink or the music, but I was slowly growing on the idea. No, not slowly, I was leaping on it. I found myself leaning a bit closer to the woman, offering a gentle smile "Your offer... is so generous. But I don't think that I've even gotten your name?"


    he died every night to let her breathe

  • A small grin tugged at my lips as she asked for my name, my eyes giving a small spark of amusement. "The name is Amber, Amber Wells." I replied, raising a eyebrow. "So is that a yes or no?" I added hopefully, my eyes glued to her's as I offered a toothy grin. At this point I had left my drink on the counter, my mind not even set on it anymore.

  • [center][fancypost=width:450px;text-align:justify;]"Amber..." I whisper the name, mostly to commit it to memory. It was pretty and it suited her, I found the urge to say it a couple of times but resisted, instead letting my expression melt into a perky and eager one. Yes or no? There was no question anymore, I knew the trouble I would have to deal with, but I'd never be faced with an offer like this again, I'd be stupid to pass it up. "Yes! A hundred times yes." I replied, trying not to seem as jumpy as I felt. "I... I would love that."


    he died every night to let her breathe