#Hair Salon Appointment Reminder

[iskedo]

SMS Appointment Reminder

Ensure your clients never miss an appointment with ISKEDO's SMS Appointment Reminder service. Our seamless and automated reminders keep your schedule organized and clients informed, enhancing efficiency and satisfaction.

[spacebell]

am I being a dick because I don’t want my brother to work from home, even though he’s feeling sick?

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Mafia!Price

No Content Warnings

There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.

He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.

You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.

Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.

“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”

You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.

“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”

He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.

Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.

Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.

“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”

Will need to call later today — as if!

“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.

He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.

“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.

You blink. Are you what?

“Tomorrow, sir?”

He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”

When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.

“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”

You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.

“I do now.”

Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.

“Of course you’re coming along.”

“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”

“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”

“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”

“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”

You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.

“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”

“‘Fancy man party’?”

“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”

You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.

“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”

You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.

“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”

You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.

“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”

“Sounds great, luv.”

You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”

He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”

—

Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.

“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”

He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.

He snorts. “My job happened.”

You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”

You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.

He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.

“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”

He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.

The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.

“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”

You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”

But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.

It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.

You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.

“Sir?” you call.

“In here, luv.”

You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.

“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.

You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.

It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.

“E-evening, sir.”

He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”

You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.

“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”

You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.

“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.

“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”

They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.

“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”

They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.

“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.

“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.

Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.

“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.

“The silver and diamond.”

You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”

A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”

You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.

“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”

You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”

“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.

You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”

He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.

“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.

You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.

“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”

You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.

“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.

Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”

He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.

“That bad, eh?”

“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.

“Gift from an ex,” he explains.

You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.

“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.

He snorts. “Maybe.”

You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.

“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.

“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.

You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.

You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.

Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.

“Pass inspection?” He asks.

“Barely,” you tease.

His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.

“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”

“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.

You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.

“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.

“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”

You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”

Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.

Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.

“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”

You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.

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Masterlist

[angel5ofp0rn]

thinking about the 141 as daddies of babies with afro hair 🙂‍↕️

Gaz would know the basics, naturally, and would take the extra time to make sure his babies always have their hair right. he reminds them how beautiful their hair is and how important it is to take the extra time and care to keep it healthy. if you’re not used to caring for their hair type, he’s very patient in teaching you the basics and hypes you up every time you do their hair on your own.

Price would shyly stumble into a black salon and ask for tips and tutorials on how to care for his children’s hair. he’d make sure he had all the right tools, products, accessories, etc. and make sure he knows how to use them. he does a piss poor job at styling it, and you always end up having to fix it anyway, but at least he tries.

Soap goes all in. he has his babies sat in front of him, and a youtube tutorial in front of them both, and he’s putting in the work. tongue sticking out as he braids and twists and, surprisingly, it turns out better than anyone expected— except him. he was confident from the get go. now it’s your turn, bonnie; boho braids or knotless box braids? i saw a lass earlier with her hair like this—

Ghost is standing by the shampoo bowl, arms crossed, at his children’s biweekly hair appointment telling the hairdresser that money is no object, just make his babies happy. he’s stocking up on bonnets, silk pillow cases, whateverthefuck that is that makes their hair smell so good and makes his li’l girl’s curls look shiny, the way she likes. he has their ipads charged up for their long appointments and is going in and out of the salon to fetch various snacks and drinks for the kids and the hairstylists taking care of them.

[beomiracles]

CONGRATS FOR 500!! so well deserved!

for your bash i’m thinking about something emogyu coded cuz i can’t live without it so…

tattooartist!beomgyu x reader

where reader is lowkey really scared like they’re literally trembling while entering his salon because they never got tattoos before! and in such a place (i see some sluty tattoo on their lower back)

but beomgyu seeing this can’t help but smooth their nerves by talking and reassuring aand… sneaking some not really sneaky touches here and there :’)) and rest i’ll leave for you to continue…

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... as someone with tattoos (who definitely had a crush on her tattoo artist at the ripe age of 17) this was right up my alley ! and I've been meaning to get a tramp stamp myself to add to my collection sooooo hehe

wc -> 1.8K

pairings tattoo artist! beomgyu x afab!reader warnings mentions of needles, reader is really pristine and gets her first tattoo, Beomgyu is a little handsy, slightly suggestive but nothing crazy at all!

the urge to turn this into something more in the future y'all

Gosh, what were you thinking? – A tattoo? What on earth would your parents think when you came over for the holidays? Not to mention, the pain. You had such a low pain tolerance it was almost ridiculous. Despite it all, you pushed the door to the salon open and stepped inside. 

The studio was small; covered head to toe in posters of inked up men and women, wearing nothing but skimpy clothing – your cheeks reddened at the sight. Music was playing from an old radio, the artist was unfamiliar but the heavy beat perfectly lined up with your racing heart. You bite your lip as you consider turning back, there was still time…But then the door to what you assumed to be the small staff room, opened; and through it came one of the most gorgeous men you had ever laid your eyes on. 

He was perhaps everything your parents would’ve forbidden your teenage self from ever getting acquainted with. Long dark hair, matching the smoked out eyeshadow around his piercing eyes, a metal ring going through the center of his full bottom lip; not to mention the several ink designs adorning his neck and arms. You swallow a gulp as you shamelessly ogle the man in front of you, not noticing how he tilted his head, a smirk creeping its way to his pierced lips. 

“1:30?” He asks as he watches the way your gaze snaps from his chest to his eyes. You blink, confused, as you fumble for words. “I uh…what?” You meekly squeak out, feeling the color on your cheeks intensifying by the second. The man’s smirk widens, “you the one who booked the appointment for 1:30?” – “Oh, y-yeah that’s me..” you mumble as you clear your throat rather awkwardly. 

He offers his hand and you notice the tattoos adorning his finger as well. “Beomgyu”, he says as you take his hand. After exchanging formalities, he guides you over to the stretcher at the back of the salon; it reminds you of the ones hospitals usually keep. Bringing out your phone, you begin pulling up the designs you had carefully chosen weeks prior. “You gotten a tattoo done before?” he asks as he watches your pink acrylics tap against the screen. 

You shake your head as you give him a sheepish smile. “Never.” Once more your mind wanders to your parents, your mom especially, what would she say? – Your family wasn’t exactly orthodox, but the subject of tattoos and other bodily modifications was sort of an unspoken rule. And even though you were now an adult, free to make your own decisions regarding your own body, the ways of your upbringing were still rooted in the back of your mind. 

Beomgyu doesn’t look surprised as he studies your nervous frame, his gaze stopping at your hands, timidly fiddling with your phone case. “You nervous?” His question was more of a statement but you give him a small nod, “yeah.” He smirks, “it’s quite natural, don’t worry, I know what I’m doing, love.” The small wink he sends you doesn’t go unnoticed as you stutter out a small o-of course, your eyes flitting down to your phone in order to avoid his intense gaze. 

“So whatcha lookin’ to get?” He asks as he brings out a moveable table, containing what you could only assume to be the tools he used for his works. Your eyes widen as you eye the sharp needles with dread. You nervously bite your lip, “w-well, I was thinking something on…on my lower back.” Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow in your direction, seemingly intrigued by your bold choice of placement for your first tattoo. 

“And you’ve got some designs for me I presume?” Nodding you show him the multiple pictures you had saved on your phone. His inked finger swipes through them as he studies them closely. “You got a favorite?” he asks, his eyes not leaving the screen. You shake your head, “I was thinking I’d do whatever you think will suit me best…” you mumble as your gaze flickers between your phone and him. Beomgyu hums as he stops on a picture of a butterfly. You follow his gaze and he nods to himself before handing your phone back, “I think you’ll absolutely rock that one, love.” 

His words of assurance made you feel confident in your decision and you eagerly nod as Beomgyu leaves to print out the design. – The two of you spent another fifteen minutes discussing placement as you held up your shirt for Beomgyu to place the paper against your skin. The feeling of his hands on your waist as he explained what would look best made your heart flutter in an unexplainable way. 

With your back facing the mirror, your hands awkwardly rest on Beomgyu’s chest as you turn your head to study the design. His inked hands moving across your hips, fingers brushing against your lower back as he talks you through the healing process. Swallowing – your eyes drift to the way his arms drape around you before moving to his face. You watch the way his lips move as he speaks, the slight frown of his brows as he focuses on getting your tattoo right. 

Then through the glass of the mirror, your eyes meet his. The smirk he flashes you is enough to tell you that he can sense the nerves radiating off of you, and perhaps even the tinge of attraction flowing through your veins. “You ready?” He asks without letting go of your hips, biting your lip, you slowly nod. 

Upon laying down on the stretcher, your attention shifts entirely to controlling your labored breathing as you anticipate the sting of the harsh needles. Somewhere behind you, you can make out the sound of Beomgyu pulling on latex gloves and before you know it he’s next to you, sitting down on a movable chair as he plugs in the sharp tool which makes a jarring noise. 

Screwing your eyes shut, you bite down on your bottom lip, preparing for the sting. But it never comes, instead you feel Beomgyu’s hand on your hip as he massages the flesh gently. “Relax”, he murmurs and you can feel his gaze on you, “it’ll hurt less if you do.” Nodding as best as you can, you do as he says; drawing in a deep breath through your nose before letting it out through your lips. 

The pain wasn’t as bad as you thought it would have been. While it did initially sting in an almost unbearable way, it quickly simmered down to a light burning sensation. Beomgyu had told you that the whole process would take about an hour – though he managed to keep your mind occupied with questions about yourself. 

“What’s mom and dad gon’ say about this one?” He asks as he dabs the irritated skin with a piece of paper before continuing. You huff out a small breath of air at the mention of your parents. “They won’t be happy.” – “Why?” He wonders and you think of a way to properly answer. “Well they’re…strict, I suppose.” You say as a small frown crosses your features, “but, I’m old enough to decide on my own. I guess I just wished they would be a little more accepting?” It felt a little weird, opening up about your parents like that to someone you had known less than an hour but Beomgyu hums understandingly behind you. 

“They are your parents, probably only want what’s good for you. I bet they’ll come around.” He says as he dabs the paper against your tattoo once more. You nod, “hopefully.” Beomgyu remains silent for a moment, the sound of the needle working its way through your skin filling the studio, the radio having gone silent half an hour earlier. “And your boyfriend?” he suddenly asks. – “I…I don’t have one..” you quietly mumble, thankful that you were facing the opposite direction as your cheeks flushed with color. 

“Really?” Beomgyu asks in a surprised tone, though you can sense the smugness lingering behind his words. “How come?” – “Such a pristine girl as yourself, thought you were bound to be taken”, he then adds and when you turn your head to look at him, you find a small smirk tugging at his lips. 

“I guess…I don’t know. Maybe I just haven’t found the right one yet…” you bite your lip as you hesitantly peek at his expression only to find him already looking at you. “And who’s the right one?” He asks as his gaze returns to your lower back. “Someone my parents wouldn’t approve of”, you state and Beomgyu raises an eyebrow without looking up from your tattoo, as if expecting you to elaborate. – “It’s silly…but I, I’ve often thought about bringing home someone I know they wouldn’t like, just because I would want to show them that there’s more to people than just their appearance I suppose…does that sound weird?” You hesitantly ask as your eyes focus on the way his lips stretches into a smirk. “Not at all.” 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you crane your neck to watch the way Beomgyu’s hand moves across your back; fascinated with the way the design was coming to life on your skin. Noticing you stare Beomgyu gives you a quick glance, “doesn’t hurt that bad, no?” – You shake your head as a small grin finds its way to your lips, “no, not at all.” 

An hour passes and soon the ink is completely engraved in your skin. Bunching your shirt up, you skip over to the mirror to admire the butterfly on your back with wide eyes. “I love it”, you breathe as your gaze travels along the tattoo, marveling at how well it complemented your skin.

Beomgyu comes up behind you as he, too, studies his work. “Told you, you would rock it.” He murmurs as he kneels down behind you. Startled by his sudden movement you turn around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on your hips. “Stay still”, he mutters and you immediately comply as your gaze returns to the mirror in front of you. 

Carefully, he wraps a thin layer of plastic over the inked design, making sure to flatten it out with the palm of his hand before dragging it across your stomach. You hold your breath as you watch the way his painted fingers move across your lower abdomen, his touches perhaps lingering a little longer than needed, but you didn’t mind. When he stands up, his chest is almost pressed against your back and you swallow a gulp. 

“You look wonderful, love.” He mumbles as one of his hands finds yours. – He opens your palm for him to place a small note in, your gaze follows the small movement as you frown. Upon opening the paper you realize that it’s a number, presumingly his. Your wide eyes travel back up to his as your lips part in an unspoken question. 

“If you ever consider getting another tattoo”, he smirks. 

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[bradshawsvinyl]

Frank Castle x girly reader headcannons

•Frank loves watching you try out new outfits.

•He is always reminding you to take off your makeup after a long day. He knows how much you HATE sleeping in your makeup and how it is basically a cardinal sin.

•Goes FERAL whenever you wear a matching pajama set to bed. He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. (and it may or may not turn him on.)

•Thinks it’s the cutest thing ever when he finds you sat up in bed reading a book with a face mask on.

•Always waits for you at the nail/hair salon. It doesn’t matter if your appointment takes 30 minutes or four hours, he will be sitting in the little waiting area flipping through old magazines. (he also pays)

•If he’s up early for a run or because he can’t sleep, he will return home with your favorite coffee for when you wake up.

•Loves watching you pamper yourself and do your little routines.

•Will listen to insane amounts of Taylor Swift with you. (He pretends he doesn’t like it but you know he secretly does.)

•Takes a pilates class with you and fails miserably. Let’s just say he has a newfound respect for your strength.

•Buys you your favorite flowers once a week.

•Gets you perfume or jewelry for your birthday or anniversary.

•Cringes when you make him try matcha.

•Gets incredibly turned on whenever you wear a sundress. (Pls comment your idea of a sundress i need to know)

•Will follow you around the mall for hours.

•Will take all of your instagram photos.

•Binge watches Sex and the City with you.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

heyyy it’s me again😓

i love ur writing sorryy😭 whenever it’s more convenient for you tho could i ask for yan zhongli (im obsessed with that man omfg), ayato and pantalone (again im obsessed w him sorry🥀) with a darling who is like, super high-maintenance? for an example they need to have their hair and nails done or they REFUSE(including them) to go near anyone because they think they don’t look good enough

stay safe, take breaks and make sure u are healthy above everything tho!!💗

-🐚

so i've never been into any of the hair and nails stuff (got my nails done professionally once in middle school, got sick of em after a week and ripped em all off) so i don't know how correct the lingo is, i kinda just went based off what i know from my sister, so i hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including a small bit of delusional behavior, a small bit of obsessive behaviors, no specific pronouns used for the reader but a lot of mentions of reader having their hair/nails/lashes being done, and the rest is just sorta soft. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Zhongli, if you think this man has the mora to pay for anything you’re funny. There is an upside to this though, while he can’t pay to have you get your nails and hair done, or your lashes or for whatever else you wanna get, he can learn to do it for you. Hair and lashes take him a while as they can be more finicky but nails he picks up instantly. Not only is it cheaper but you can describe to him exactly what you want and he’ll be able to do it because he understands you and knows what you mean when you describe things. Plus you don’t have to worry about looking good when you get them done, you can just hang around in your pajamas until everything is finished.

Zhongli listened as you described the design you wanted on your nails, sorting through the assortment of polishes he had collected over his time with you. He’d do anything to please you, and while he couldn’t pay for the things you loved, he could certainly learn to do it for you. He understood wanting to maintain a certain image to the public but he’ll always insist that you look your best when you’re just you. When your hair hasn’t been done in a while, no fake lashes, and when your nails are just painted, no extra things on it. He doesn’t mind appearances, finding that he’s lived too long to base his relationship off something as simple as that, but he does appreciate both sides of you. While he’ll gladly chat about things while he does your nails or gossip while he does your hair, he’ll occasionally remind you that regardless of how you look, he’s always going to love you.

Yandere!Ayato is on top of it, like he schedules and pays for everything. He hires only the best and has them come to you, so that you can get the proper treatment you deserve in the comfort of the Kamisato Estate. You have personal stylists who do your nails, your hair, lashes, wardrobe updates, anything you want and they can do it. They also have some of the hottest gossip about the happenings in Inazuma, giving a proper salon treatment everytime they’re around.

You weren’t sure how Ayato made time to always schedule your appointments and such, keeping more on top of them than you did some days, but you weren’t about to complain about it. Your nail tech and hair stylist were amazing at their jobs, catering to your every whim and doing a phenomenal job at that, like they were born for this kind of work. The stories they brought with them were always just as great, the latest happenings around the city and the nation as a whole, who was doing what now and such on and so forth. Ayato would come to check in on you occasionally throughout your appointment, checking that everything was going well. And of course, when it’s done he expects you to come to his office and show off. He doesn’t care if you interrupt anything, to him you’re his top priority always. Plus he loves to see his darling all dolled up, feeling like the prettiest person in all of Inazuma. In his opinion, you always are, dolled up or not.

Yandere!Pantalone appreciates your intense take on your looks as appearances are a huge thing in his line of work, both on the business aspect and the intimidation aspect. He wants people to see that his accumulated wealth doesn’t go to waste, that he didn’t work for nothing. No, he uses his mass amount of mora to spoil his beloved, someone he has no problem writing checks or opening his wallet for. Anyone else can mind their own, his money is yours. The only downside to this is that he’s a horribly busy man, he’ll find whatever stylists you want and find some way to bring them to the Palace so you can have your appointments in the security of the Harbingers, but it’s up to you to schedule the appointments and keep track of when you’ll need to see them again. Just make sure you tell him when they are when you go to flaunt your new hairstyle and nail’s to him.

Pantalone’s soft smile spread just a bit farther across his face as you came bounding into his office, a bright smile of your own. You had just gotten your hair done and nails touched up and he could tell you were back to feeling like yourself again. While he appreciated all your looks and sides, he loved seeing you smiling and happy, and if that meant spending all this money for you to get pampered, he didn’t mind. He didn’t understand a lot of the words you used as you described what they did to your hair and nails, but he happily listened anyway, his delicate smile never faltering as you retold the whole chain of events. Even if his smile was often for show, when you were around it was never more genuine. He holds your hands in his larger, gloved ones as he looks over your nails, his fingers lightly tracing over the designs with an amused glimmer in his eyes. You were certainly something, and he intended to keep that bright light of yours shining.

[austonwithan-o]

Summer Job- Trevor Zegras x Reader

After a certain boy walks into your hair salon. How could you say no to him asking you on a date? I mean customer satisfaction right?

——————————————————————————

No warnings!

You had just recently moved to Bedford, NY to live with your grandparents. They offered for you to live with them during the summers when it was too expensive for you to fly back to Portland where your parents lived. Attending NYU completely on scholarship you didn’t have time for a job during the school year. You did cut hair on the side for some of your friends and they paid you some which covered some weekend excursions but nothing too crazy. Little did you know that side hustle would lead to you meeting the love of your life.

Sitting in your bed you scrolled through job listings, a lot of grocery stores, gas stations, target, fast food places were hiring but nothing really caught your eye. Annoyed you closed your laptop letting out a groan.

“I refuse to work at McDonald’s mom. I’m not coming home smelling like fries and grease and it’s a whole 40 minute drive from here! There’s literally nothing interesting here.” You were annoyed with the sparse selection of employment available and despite your obvious disappointment your mom let out a laugh much to your dismay.

“Honey I know you don’t wanna come home smelling like a fast food place but you’re gonna have to choose something. Plus it’s just for the summer! Just like what, 2 months? You can survive 2 months y/n or here maybe ask grandma and grandpa if they have any friends who have businesses. They know a lot of people around there.” Her voice rang through the speaker phone on your nightstand, it wasn’t a horrible idea, your grandparents did have a great reputation in the town and a lot of friends.

“Hmm you’re not wrong?” You said picking up your phone, “I’m gonna go talk to them it’s dinner time anyways.”

“Alright sweetie I love you! Have a goodnight and keep me updated on the job hunt.”

“Will do momma! Love you too!” Hanging up and making your way downstairs the smell of your grandmas food was heavenly. You loved it here.

“Oh perfect! I was just about to call you down!”

Your grandpa said pulling a chair out for you to sit. You smiled and thanked him as he pushed it in.

“So grandpa I was on the phone with mom, looking for jobs with her and I was wondering if you knew anyone who would be willing to hire me for the summer? I mean there’s fast food and restaurants and stuff but I just thought maybe you’d have more, I guess, connections around here?” Taking a bite of the chicken on your plate. There was a few seconds of silence before your grandma spoke.

“You know I actually do know someone who’s hiring but are you good with hair? My friend Carla has a hair studio 10 minutes into town and she’s looking for another employee.”

Bingo.

“I can cut hair! I have a little side hustle at school cutting hair for like $10. I mean I’m not professional but I’m definitely not bad at it. I can also style and dye hair too!” This was the perfect job you thought plus the tips would be great!

“Her name is Carla! I’m going in tomorrow to get my hair trimmed. I’ll introduce you to her, she’s such a sweet lady!” Your grandma said, “We will leave around 11? My appointment is at 11:15 and I like getting there a bit early.”

You agreed. After dinner you spent a few hours playing cards and chatting with your grandparents eventually heading up to your room.

You woke up around 10:30am a little tired from staying up watching hair tutorials refreshing your memory on how to cut hair but you didn’t need much reminding.

You showered, got dressed and ran downstairs grabbing the keys to your old Jeep.

“Grandma I’ll drive!” You exclaimed rushing out the door.

“Alrighty I’ll be there in a second.”

The drive was peaceful. Driving through the colorful country you couldn’t help but admire how nice and green everything around you was. Your thoughts were interrupted by your grandma.

“I don’t know if you watch hockey at all but Carla has a little bit of a celebrity customer you know.” She smiled, “I’ve met him before his name is Trevor Zegras. He’s a hockey player. I’m not sure which team but he’s a cutie. Maybe you’ll get to cut his hair.” She shot you a wink making you roll your eyes.

“Ah yes grandma I definitely need a hot hockey player boyfriend to distract me all summer.”

“He’s a very charming young man! I bet you two would hit it off!” You laughed at her statement. A relationship was definitely the last thing on your mind for the summer. Making friends? That would be fun but definitely no boyfriend.

“Grandma you know I don’t need a boyfriend. I mean especially since I would just be leaving to school in a few months.”

“You never know y/n! People come into your life for different reasons.”

You smiled at her words but it was true. You didn’t want a summer fling. It wasn’t your style. If you were gonna date someone it was going to be serious and having a hockey boyfriend was definitely not on your list of things you needed.

You arrived at the hair salon. The sign displayed on top read, “Bedford Village Hair Design” it was a cute little shop. You could see a few workers at their stations and a few customers in the chairs. You both walked in hearing the chime of the bells, “Alice! Good to see you! You’re a bit early but I’ll just get you started over here-“ the woman who you assumed to be Carla gave you a wide smile.

“And who might you be?” She asked pulling you into a hug.

“Carla this is my granddaughter y/n! She’s staying with me for the summer and I brought her here to introduce her to you! She’s looking for a summer job and I think she would be perfect for your salon!” She said as she sat down in the seat, you followed close behind the two, standing beside Carla.

“Well I definitely wouldn’t be apposed! Can you cut men’s hair? I have more and more male clients coming in and I need more help around here!” Carla spoke trimming away at your grandmas hair. She was definitely not new to this.

“Yes! I cut my guy friends hair all the time in school. It’s like a little side hustle so I can make some money during the year.” You explained.

“You know what that sounds great! If you want just swing by tomorrow let’s say around 9:30am and you can start if that’s okay with you? I have someone coming in at 9:45am who you can do. He’s very sweet.”

“That sounds awesome! Thank you so much!”

You waited in the corner for your grandma to be done her hair which took about 20 more minutes and with that you both left after.

The next morning you woke up throwing on a flowy floral dress trying to match the vibe of everyone’s outfits yesterday. You wanted to make a good first impression so you took your time with your hair and makeup. Rushing out the door it was 9:15 by the time you left luckily there’s never any traffic in the small town.

Walking inside the small business you were greeted by Carla and another worker Gracie. She was around Carla’s age and very very sweet as well.

“Hi you must be y/n!” She greeted you giving you a hug.

“Yes! It’s good to meet you?”

“Gracie! My name is Gracie! Well I’ll give you the heads up since you’re new I’m gonna let you take my regular client at 9:45 today. His name is Trevor! He’s very nice so don’t be intimidated and he will let you know how he wants his cut.” She said handing you an apron.

For some reason your heart dropped a bit but you didn’t know why. You hadn’t even met the guy let alone seen his face and already freaking out.

“Are you sure? I mean I can take someone else if you want-“

“Lovely don’t be silly! I insist don’t worry he won’t bite you! I’ll still be here I’ll just be organizing in the back and Carla will be in the front or back with me.” She said and with that the sound of the door opening and the bells jingling made you freeze in your place.

“Carla! Gracie! And new girl?” You shyly turned around to face him. His smiled was so bright and his eyes were so pretty. He walked over and gave Carla a hug all while scanning you up and down. He pulled away eventually giving you a firm handshake. His touch sending sparks up your arm, making butterflies form in your stomach.

Oh my God he was gorgeous.

“Trevor this is y/n! Y/n this is Trevor! She’s gonna be cutting your hair today Trevor.” Gracie said grabbing his hand. His eyes hadn’t left yours and you could sense the nervous energy radiating off of his tall figure. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair which fell perfectly back into place framing his chiseled features.

“Oh cool! I’ll get a buzzcut this time.” The two older women let out exaggerated gasps slapping his shoulder making him laugh.

“Hey I’m kidding! You know I’d never do that Carla.” You couldn’t help but laugh as well at their reaction. You were already loving this job and you’d been there for about 10 mins.

“Trevor the day you get a buzzcut is the day I officially quit my job.” She handed you a barbers gown and he followed your lead by sitting down in the chair letting you throw it over him securing it in the back. Your hands were shaking and he could feel it as you tied the back lightly brushing the back of his neck.

“Alright y/n let me know when you’re done, I’m going to help Gracie in the back. Trevor no buzzcuts.” She gave him another light slap on the shoulder and he shot her a wink. The two ladies walked off exchanged glances at the two of you.

“You can lean back and I’ll wash your hair first.” He followed your directions placing his head in the neck rest.

“I’ve been coming here for a long time and I’ve never seen you here or around here for that matter. Where you from?” Trevor asked looking at you. You refused to make eye contact with him because you knew you’d fold under his eye contact.

“I’m from Portland but I live here in the summer times and I go to school at NYU.” You explained as you massaged his scalp with the shampoo.

“Oh that’s sick! Yeah I live here during the summers but I’m in Cali most of the year.” He was very obviously enjoying you running your hands through his hair and you couldn’t deny. You did as well.

“My grandma comes here a lot. She said you play hockey huh? I didn’t know there were hockey teams in California.” You admitted almost feeling a bit stupid letting those words leave your mouth. Trevor grinning at your remark.

“It’s a weird place for ice hockey that’s for sure but yeah the Anaheim Ducks. I’m guessing you don’t watch hockey?”

“Not at all. I’m not huge into sports but I played volleyball in high school.” You rinsed his hair off then wrapped his hair up in a towel and motioned for him to move to the hair cutting seat. His height shocked you a bit more when he stood up letting you really observe him. You caught the smell of his cologne as he walked by sitting down in the chair. You couldn’t get enough of him but you were fighting the feelings.

“I’ll have to get you to watch a few games. It’s important if we’re friends you watch hockey or at least know how the game works.” He stated looking at you through the mirror making it harder to concentrate with his gaze.

“Also, keep the shape but just make it a bit shorter. It’s kind of hard to see now.” Trevor grabbed a front strand of his hair pulling it down his face to see how long it was.

“Oh so we’re friends now?” Teasing him a bit. You snipped away at his hair following his request. You couldn’t help but notice all the tattoos on his arms as well letting your eyes scan his features more.

“I mean I’m trusting you with my hair so of course we’re friends but let’s say I ask you out on a date. Would that make or break the friendship.” The question caught you off guard.

Y/n you just said you weren’t gonna date anyone. Tell him no.

“I mean I don’t see how a date could hurt the friendship. I’m free anytime past 4 when the salon closes.” You couldn’t believe you just said that. It was like you had no control.

“Perfect I’ll pick you up at 4 tonight. What you’re wearing is perfect.” You blushed at his comment. Finishing up his hair and blow drying it. He stood up and you shook the barber cape off. You did a pretty good job you couldn’t lie.

“You know I might have you cut my hair from now on beautiful.” He turned around to face you.

“I mean I charge more so if you’re fine with that I’m fine with that.” Joking obviously you walked over to the wall grabbing a broom to sweep up all the hair you cut off.

“Worth every penny. I’ll pick you up at 4 from here. Leave your car here and we’ll just take mine.” Carla came back to the front soon after.

“Yay no buzzcut! You did really well Y/n.” Carla gave you an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Trevor made his way up to the front with Carla to pay while you cleaned up the hair on the floor.

“I’ll see you tonight y/n.” Winking at you he left the salon.

“I’m guessing you two hit it off huh?” Carla smirked.

“I mean I wouldn’t deny it.” You blushed at her comment making her laugh.

“He’s a great kid y/n. I wouldn’t let him near you if he wasn’t.” Carla smoothed out her apron retreating to the back again.

This was gonna be a very interesting summer and an even more interesting school year.

——————————————————————————

Tbh idk how I feel about this one but oh well

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

what about a story where Alphonse’s listener has always had dark hair and one day they decided to surprise Al and so without telling him they go to a salon and get their hair dyed the same color as him, then when they come home and see him again they say “ now we are both bubble gum!” 🩷

this has always been a thought in the back of my mind

Bubble gum couple.

I think I'd do this right but I think I yapped too much-

Boo smiled to themselves as they walked into the salon, smiling at their stylus they always go too. The older woman, Sherald, greeting them with a warm smile and began chatting about gossip she gathered.

"Remember how I told you there was a new girl in town? Turns out she's been seeing Lidia's nephew! Awe they are SO cute. Reminds me a bit of you and your candy man!" Giggling, Sherald picked up some scissors and a comb.

"Really? Well I'm actually here to do a little surprise for him! Remember how I was talking about dying my hair a different color? I was thinking about doing the same as his!" Excitedly saying Boo showed a picture to Lidia. The older woman nodded and turned to a counter grabbing pink and purple. Then grabbing other materials to prep your hair with to dye your hair that nice pink.

"Awe! You and sugar man are so cute! Ugh, your the couple I wanna be like. Sadly no man can hold me down! Haha!" Laughing at herself Lidia put the apron on you to cover your shirt. Grabbing the bleach to began the process of doing your hair.

"Yeah we know Lidia! Your a strong headed woman. No man in this town would try getting with you!" Another stylus said giggling as she finished a blow out for a woman. The one who made the witty comment was Kris, who was Lidia's sister.

"Oh hush you! These men in this town have weak spines with someone who will argue back." Huffing as she waved her hand without a care, then turned to Boo with a bog smile. "Now sweetie, we know this'll take all morning so you got a clear schedule right?"

Boo nodded smiling listening to the two sisters argue over the older ones personality. Closing their eyes Boo felt comfort as the gray haired woman started parting their hair.

Chatting was heard around the salon as more woman came in. Adding into the conversation that started on about one of the older woman finally admitting she cheated. Who could blame her? The man she was shackled too was a dick.

Boo flipped through a magazine as they waited for their hair to dry in the big hairdryer. So far the process had been long but seeing Alphonse's reaction will be worth it. And speak of the devil, the door bell chimes as the pastel pink waled through.

"Oh? And what do I owe the pleasure of the candy man being in my salon?" Giggling Lidia opened her arms and shared a quick hug. Alphonse laughed and smiled at her before asking.

"Have you seen Boo? They haven't texted me back in a while and I kno- Oh! Boo there you are!" Happily saying Alphonse walked to where Boo sat. Looking at the hairdryer and then his partner with a confused look. "You gettin' your hair done?"

Boo nodded as they closed the magazine and heard Lidia chime that they can get off of the hairdryer. Smiling as Kris who helped get their head wrap off. Shaking their hair a bit, Boo turned and smiled at Alphonse.

"What do you think? Now were both bubble gum!" Giggling Boo saw Alphonse smile widely and opened his mouth.

"Holy shit Boo! You look so good!" Complementing, Alphonse giggled at the comment Boo made about both of you being bubble gum.

Thanking Lidia and then pating the both of you walked out the salon. Boo then gasped before explaining all the drama they heard during their appointment. With their boyfriend enjoying every second of it as they both ate the bit of candy be brought.

[iskedo]

Shifting trends of the hair industry: Salon vs Barbershop 

Fashion trends and beauty industry trends are transient and change in the blink of an eye. It is pertinent for the beauty care industry to embrace the change and stay abreast of the changes. Let, it be clothing trends, make-up trends, or hair styling trends. The hair care market is constantly evolving, driven by shifting client tastes, cultural trends, and technology breakthroughs. As people prioritize self-expression and personal grooming, their expectations for hair care services have altered considerably over the years. In this blog post, we will look at the complicated mechanics of how client preferences have evolved in the hair care sector. From traditional barbershops to modern salons, we examine the factors driving these transformations and their impact on the services provided and the entire client experience. Join us on a journey through the ever-changing world of the haircare industry, where innovation meets tradition and client preferences define the future of grooming. 

The hair industry is a dynamic terrain that is constantly changed by new trends, consumer preferences, and cultural influences. Within this thriving ecology, salons and barbershops are iconic cornerstones, each with its own particular identity and clientele. Salons have traditionally been associated with luxury, providing a wide range of services geared particularly towards women's haircare. Barbershops, on the other hand, have long been linked with classic male grooming, offering specialized services in a more traditional setting. However, as cultural standards change and individual tastes vary, the distinction between these two institutions has begun to blur. In this investigation of the altering trends in the hair industry, we look into the evolving dynamics of salons and barbershops, analyzing how each is adjusting to meet the changing expectations of today's era. 

Services Offered: 

Salon: Clients are increasingly seeking services beyond basic haircuts, including coloring, styling, treatments, and extensions, suggesting a growing emphasis on adaptability and innovation. 

Barbershop: While traditional services such as haircuts and shaves remain popular, clients are increasingly interested in new options such as beard grooming, scalp treatments, and men's skincare services, indicating a demand for all-around grooming experiences. 

Salon clients seek personalized consultations and tailored advice from professional stylists, emphasizing uniqueness and self-expression in their haircare choices. 

Barbershops specialize in delivering personalized services based on each client's specific tastes and grooming demands, which fosters patron trust and loyalty. 

Salons have integrated technology to improve the customer experience, including online booking, virtual consultations, and digital style portfolios. This caters to tech-savvy clients who value ease and efficiency. 

Barbershops may use technology for scheduling and communication, but typically prioritize human connection and interpersonal encounters, resulting in a more conventional approach to client relationships. 

Modern salons prioritize a calm and welcoming atmosphere, with minimalist décor, comfortable seating, and a focus on health and self-care, appealing to clients wanting a holistic haircare experience. 

Barbershops preserve a classic, nostalgic setting with vintage décor, barber chairs, and a sense of camaraderie, appealing to clientele who value authenticity and tradition in their grooming regimen. 

Salons are demonstrating a dedication to social responsibility and diversity by participating in community activities, charitable efforts, and social issues. This aligns with the ideals of their clients.  

Barbershops function as cultural anchors in their communities, sponsoring events, live music, and meetings that build a sense of belonging and camaraderie among customers, appealing to individuals looking for more than simply hair care services. 

Though, salons can be considered more trending and a first preference of the youth these days, certain factors make the barbershop the first and foremost choice. Some of the advantages offered by the barbershop that make them a first and foremost choice are: 

•Barbershops provide men's grooming services such as haircuts, beard trims, shaves, and grooming products, tailored particularly to male clients. 

•Clients value the knowledge and precision of barbers who specialize in traditional barbering techniques, which ensures a high-quality and personalized grooming service. 

•Barbershops often have a nostalgic atmosphere with old décor, classic barber chairs, and traditional tools, creating a sense of authenticity and nostalgia. 

•A barbershop's atmosphere develops a sense of camaraderie and community among customers, resulting in a pleasant and inclusive setting. 

•Barbershops promote male bonding by providing a social environment for men to relax and interact while receiving grooming services. 

•Clients like the opportunity to participate in casual chat and bond with their barber. 

•and fellow customers, improving the whole barbershop experience. Timeless Traditions: 

•Barbershops retain traditional barbering practices such as hot towel shaves, beard grooming rituals, and classic haircuts like fades and pompadours. 

•Clients love barbershops' authenticity and heritage, and they appreciate the ability to receive traditional grooming services in a modern atmosphere. 

•Barbershops often prioritize essential services above superfluous frills and luxury. 

•Clients looking for a hassle-free grooming experience enjoy the simplicity and efficiency of a barbershop, where they can obtain a great haircut or shave without the distractions of other services. 

Finally, shifting trends in the hair market reflect today's clients' changing interests and lifestyles. While salons and barbershops continue to play important roles in grooming services, their methodologies differ greatly in fulfilling the various needs of their clients. Salons provide adaptability, trend-focused services, and a beautiful ambiance for those seeking personalized and fashion-forward experiences. Barbershops, on the other hand, offer specialized services, an authentic ambiance, and a sense of community, making them appealing to people who like traditional grooming procedures and male-centric environments. As the hair industry evolves, salon and barbershop owners must modify their services and tactics to remain relevant and satisfy the changing wants of their customers. Understanding the subtleties of salon and barbershop dynamics, hair. One major difference that is known for bringing a transforming change is the use of appropriate modes of technology or software. The use of customized software used by the beauty care and hair care sector has also proved to be a new dawn in the present era. So, if you are running a salon or a barber business you can also bring a new transformation by using ISKEDO appointment scheduling software. You can streamline your business using this appointment-scheduling software. 

[spirk-trek]

Would love to see a little something about TOS spirk and dress uniforms, whatever speaks to you!! I love the intimacy of getting ready together and dressing up fancy with your partner :)

inspired in part by this post by @flippyspoon, this fan art [deactivated], and also this fan art by @lesbospirk!

i initially wanted to do something with spock's eyeshadow (still might??) but then the idea of him cutting jim's hair broke into my mind and wouldn't leave... and i never stop thinking about mind melds, so.

lastly: fuck hypersonic showers, ok? spock takes baths and jim loves sitting under steaming water for the drama. that is all. hope you enjoy, anon!

now on ao3!!!

~*~*~*~

Jim was toweling his hair dry when he re-entered his quarters, screwing his face up as he scrubbed at any residual dampness. He let the towel fall in an open loop around his neck, cotton sleep pants slipping down his waist as he leaned against the partition. Spock was there, of course. Jim watched as he diligently smoothed the sleeves of a green dress tunic laid out over his mattress.

And, my, was Spock a sight for sore eyes. The reflective blue complimented him, each fold capturing light like shards of zircon, lattice trim evoking something almost… royal, in the way it climbed his high collar. Jim’s eyes traced the line of gold down Spock’s chest as soon as the Vulcan turned to find him there.

“Dressings suit you,” he murmured by means of explanation, pushing off the wall and taking a few slow steps to close the space between them. He propped both arms against Spock’s shoulders, extending them into the room with loose, lazy wrists.

For so long he had savored these moments of up-close observation, even going so far as to fabricate close quarters on multiple occasions just so he could drink Spock in. The shades of barely-there greens surrounding his lips, touching the hollows of his cheeks, arching over where his nostrils met the bridge of his nose. Short, dark lashes lining irises the color of a mud-settled pond. Of tadpoles. Of space between stars.

“You have a significant bias, Captain."

“Do I?” Jim's gaze dropped to Spock’s lower lip. “Based on the evidence,” he dragged his finger down that seam of gold, “I’d say we’re dealing in objective fact, Mr. Spock.”

Spock finally angled his face lower so their lips were mere centimeters apart.

“Aesthetic preferences cannot be objective.”

Jim’s smirk only grew before he finally captured Spock’s mouth, letting a satisfied breath out through his nose. Spock met him, hands bracketing his waist before sliding upward over skin, eventually finding the nape of his neck where fingers curled into damp hair…

Spock broke the kiss and Jim hummed in protest, blinking his eyes open.

“I’ve noticed an increase in the length of your hair,” he observed, as if commenting on the weather. Spock's eyes rose to watch his fingers card through the wave of Jim’s bangs.

“Is that right?”

“I estimate it has exceeded typical length by 2.51 centimeters.”

“Hm. I suppose it has been a while since I had a trim. Remind me after the delegation-”

“We have time presently, if you are amenable.”

Jim drew back, giving Spock an amused look. “I doubt the salon will be accepting appointments at this hour, Spock. Even for the Captain.”

He curled his fingers over the nape of Jim’s neck again.

“I perform my own haircuts.”

Jim’s brows shot up even further in surprise, still sporting an open mouthed grin which he laughed brightly through. “You want to cut my hair?” He withdrew his arms so he could place one hand on either side of Spock’s neck, thumbs just reaching each corner of his jaw. “I’m not sure I could pull off your cut, sweetheart,” he joked.

Spock didn’t answer aside from a quirk of his lips, accepting the implied agreement before extracting himself and moving past Jim to the door of their adjoined bathroom. Jim watched him go, once more thanking Starfleet for their choice of dress uniforms, and still hadn't looked elsewhere by the time he returned holding a basin and several utensils. Jim knew that Spock preferred his own grooming routines (right down to the fingernails), but he wasn’t expecting the fine golden scissors. Nor did he expect the straight razor which resembled antiques from Earth, yet was still different somehow. He reached for the handle, turning it over in his hands, appreciating the way it gleamed.

“You’ve never shown me these.”

“It has not been pertinent until now.”

Jim placed the razor back into the basin, supposing that was true.

“Come,” Spock requested, and Jim did, allowing himself to be turned so Spock stood at his back. Gentle fingers slid the towel from his neck and draped it over his shoulders.

“Sit.”

And Jim did again, lowering himself into the desk chair Spock had wheeled around. He began pulling strands of hair upward and letting them fall free, so Jim shut his eyes, almost losing himself to the sensation until he heard a snip. The very end of a curl tumbled down the length of his arm and fell to the floor. He peered down at it, prompting Spock’s hands to wrap around his head and face it forward once more.

“Remain still, k’diwa.”

Jim smiled, a warmth blooming throughout him. He loved when Spock called him that.

He continued to snip here and there, a halo of trimmed hair quickly forming around them. Jim relaxed into the contact until once again a sound roused him. Water. He cracked one eye open to see Spock running his fingers over the surface of a clear pool now filling the basin, flicking droplets back inside and combing the moisture through his hair.

“Could get used to this,” Jim murmured. Snip.

“I have no objection to making it a regular practice.”

He grinned, shivering briefly as cold droplets rolled down his neck to be absorbed into the towel.

“Apologies.”

“No, no. Feels nice.”

Snip. Snip. Then, Jim saw in his peripheral as Spock set the scissors down on his desk. Gentle pressure on the back of his head tilted it downward, chin to chest. More swishing in the water.

“Do not move,” Spock directed more seriously, and a moment later Jim felt the press of sharp metal scraping down the lines of his neck. He swallowed, hairs on his arms raising as Spock diligently shaped the bottom of his hairline. Slow. Careful. He felt a hot flash of trust, of comfort and care skittering over him until the pressure from Spock’s hand released. Jim didn’t immediately raise his head, allowing Spock to trace his fingers over the line, inspecting it by touch.

The same hand soon reached around to tip Jim’s chin back up. He continued the movement until he was craned back as far as he could go, sure he looked ridiculous as he peered up at Spock, batting his eyelashes.

“You know, the barber usually kisses me once he’s finished.”

Spock’s second brow rose to meet the first before he bent at the middle, pressing a chaste kiss to Jim’s lips upside down.

“I do not find that amusing,” he murmured. Jim brought his hand up to the back of Spock’s neck to pull him back down for second kiss before he could pull away, lingering this time, smiling into it before releasing his hold. He could hear Spock smooth the lines of his uniform and draw a short breath through his nose.

“Regardless, I am not yet finished.”

When Jim tried to twist in his chair, he found Spock already circling around to his front.

“You aren’t?”

“You have not shaved.”

Jim blinked. He usually just used a photon shaver on his way out the door, which could be done in an instant, but when hazel eyes fell to see the razor still held in Spock’s hand his lips curled. He flashed his eyes back up.

“Okay,” he answered with a slow nod. He settled back in the chair as Spock moved to stand closer, eclipsing the ceiling light, and when a hand reached for his face he leaned into the touch readily. Spock's thumb swiped over the rough stubble covering his chin, then fell away again.

After smoothing a layer of lotion that smelled like desert spices over the bottom half of Jim's face, Spock began his ministrations high on each cheek, making smooth swipes downward and carefully steering the blade around the corners of Jim's mouth. He relaxed his jaw, lips parting, eyes falling shut of their own accord. Spock eventually brought his hand to one side, propping Jim's face against his palm as he shaved along the opposite edge.

By the time he recognized the warm feeling wrapping itself around him, the tightening thread pulling through his mind and lifting him from the world, Jim was already plummeting through space. He was vaguely aware, somewhere, of his physical body falling into Spock, a cold hand meeting the drop of his head with gentle steadiness.

K'diwa.

Spock!

Delight spun through him in tendrils. He rushed forward, coiled around Spock’s presence, reached inside and felt the beating of his heart like it was his own.

Jim. His name was feather light, yet somehow more insistent. Echoes bounced around them before Spock brought him back to center. My intention was not to meld with you.

Then I must be dreaming, he thought warmly, and suddenly Spock was there before him in swirls of shimmering twilight, pulling him by the hand, by his chin. He felt his warmth from the inside out. Like he had swallowed a sun. Like he could never be cold again.

Return to me, k'diwa. I must finish.

“I love when you call me that.”

The words, his own voice, were what pulled him back to reality. Their faces were mere inches apart. His cheek was wet. He smelled spices around him, felt humidity in the room. Suddenly, Jim remembered the task at hand and blood rushed to color his face, but the expression he found on Spock’s was fond. Soft. His fingers followed Jim’s chin as it drew back before letting the contact cease altogether.

“Did I…?”

Spock nodded once. Jim bit his lip.

“Sorry.”

He shook his head, denying the apology. “My hand placement was unwise. I admit, I was distracted.”

Jim’s embarrassed grimace began to lift into a self-satisfied smile.

“You, distracted? I'd be curious to know what could've managed such a thing.”

Spock said nothing at first. He placed a considerably more careful hand on top of Jim’s head to steady it.

“Aesthetics.”

And Jim let Spock steer his head sideways once more before feeling the cool metal touch back down on his skin. This time the path began just below the line of his jaw, trailing down and catching fine hairs along the column of his throat. When he could, he tried to catch a glimpse of the unwavering concentration on Spock’s face as he worked his way across.

“You do this every morning?” Jim all but whispered as his head was allowed to level. He instinctively brought a hand up to feel the smooth skin, running his fingers over it in appraisal.

“My metabolism has adjusted to living aboard the Enterprise. I only require this level of grooming approximately once every twenty one standard days.”

Jim blinked. How was he still learning new things about Spock, even after all this time? He supposed that explained why he never had a hair out of place- that is, unless Jim had something to say about it behind closed doors.

Spock was inspecting him now, dark eyes roaming his face, searching for any neglected spots over it's surface. Jim sat still, defiantly keeping his gaze steady until those eyes met his again. They both held it for a prolonged moment until Spock reached out, touching his thumb to what must be a single hair left behind. His fingers climbed…

Jim couldn’t have stopped it if he’d wanted to. He surged forward again, their minds coming together like a flood as if protesting the premature ending from before. As always, Spock was there to catch him. Arms twined around, undefined and abstract, embracing him from all directions. He was steady, as if he himself were the solid ground on which they stood, as if Jim would float away and cease to be without him there. His tether. His anchor. His north star.

Hello, ashayam.

Spock, Jim practically sang. Not for the first time, he felt a certain sort of music shivering free in a distant part of his mind. A single note hanging suspended in the fog. He wanted to hum along, to stretch it into a tune that could be carried by birds, a song composed for a symphony, but instead he simply reached for Spock and thought you’re here, you’re here, you’re here as they twisted together.

Always.

He felt love float up between them, lifting like bubbles from vents below the sea and racing for the surface. Oranges and pinks brightened in the periphery, dropping off into blue below. He marveled inwardly, distracted by the space that was all their own before his attention was drawn to a thought passing over him. Uncertainty. Spock was the one who put words to it.

You are nervous.

It was as if Jim hadn’t recognized the ache in his stomach until then.

That is why you are seeking me. K’diwa. Come.

Clarity. Sense. Logic. Jim followed him into an embrace of sensation; Lying against Spock’s chest in the morning. Finding his hand below the table without having to look. Kissing him in the dark. All at once it came over him, settled inside him. Comfort. Home.

Your nerves are unwarranted. You have prepared thoroughly.

So did the admiralty when the delegation turned them down.

You are Jim Kirk. Decidedly, not the admiralty.

Jim laughed, and the music came back distantly. Bells.

Spock continued. I, for one, have historically found it difficult to deny you.

Jim could feel the ache within him begin to subside as quickly as it had come, could practically feel Spock pulling it from him. He reached out again, hand closing around a wrist which was not there before he decided to hold onto it.

I love you.

And I, you, ashaya.

And with that, the meld began to abate, turning to mist and leaving only filtered sunlight behind Jim’s eyes. His quarters returned to him like waves of a dream. He sighed, nodding forward until the hand supporting his chin steadied him enough for him to open his eyes.

“Are you comforted, Jim?”

And the question was so sincere, he felt his heart reeling in appreciation for the man before him.

“I am, thank you,” he murmured, and seemingly satisfied, Spock brought the razor up and grazed it over the missed spot on his cheek. He wordlessly gathered his belongings, submerged in the now frothy water, and disappeared to return them to his quarters.

Jim raised a hand to ghost over the spot their foreheads had met and thought back to a time long ago, when they were practically strangers. Spock's words to him...

If I seem insensitive to what you’re going through, Captain, understand… it’s the way I am.

Spock’s brow lifted when he caught Jim watching him a beat longer than he should have. He was standing in the doorway now, drying his hands, and all Jim could think was how could I have let him be so wrong?

All he said, however, was, “How do I look?”

“Tempting,” Spock answered without hesitation.

Jim’s grin warmed several degrees. “That is what I was going for.”

After taking a moment to appreciate the curve of Spock’s lips, reserved just for him to see, he finally stood to face the green tunic laid out with such care on his bed. Unsurprisingly, each medal was already pinned in perfect position. He ran the backs of his fingers over the dyed fabric, parted it, smiled when he found his undershirt neatly folded there, too. He imagined Spock alone in the room as he had been washing up. His careful movements, so precise and so graceful at the same time, always yielding perfect results. Point A to point B. The path of least resistance. Jim sometimes marveled that Spock, in all his simplicity, could tolerate him at all.

A hand pressed to the small of his back, their hips touching as Spock reached for the undershirt. He presented it to Jim, who pulled it over his head, emerging to find Spock holding his tunic out for him to slide his arms into.

“I’m beginning to feel rather spoiled,” he teased before sliding one arm in, turning, sliding in the other. He leaned back and Spock wrapped his arms around him, closed the shirt over his chest, bowed his head to tuck himself into Jim’s neck. Lips pressed to his pulse. One. Two. Three.

“You are worthy of the treatment, Captain.”

Jim shut his eyes. Captain. It was spoken like a name. Like found treasure. Like he’d follow him anywhere.

He turned again so they would be face to face, leaving some space for Spock’s hands which immediately sought out his sleeves to soothe them down his arms. Comfortable silence enveloped them as Spock resumed closing his cuffs, tightening the material around his wrists and sliding each gold disk through their respective slots.

“Thank you,” Jim said again sweetly once he was finished, reaching two fingers out to find Spock’s and pressing the tips of them together. As he so often did, Spock looked down at the contact, observing it as he pushed more purposefully along Jim’s fingers, up over the first fold of his palm.

“I am confident you will be successful.”

“What, I don’t get to hear the odds?”

Spock’s grip flexed inside Jim’s, their fingers laced now. Reverent. Devout. Jim squeezed back.

“I could provide them, however I see little point as it is your tendency to defy all probability.”

Jim leaned up on his toes to press a kiss to Spock’s cheek, delighted to leave behind the faintest imprint of sage.

“Perfectly logical, Mr. Spock. As always.”

[blossomwritesthings]

❦― 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 :: 𝐬𝐤𝐳

❦― psa & reminders

- some of the following content contains 18+ content. if you are a minor, ageless in your profile, or have a default/empty blog, do NOT interact with such work. however, i take no responsibility for your own media consumption, so please read at your own risk.

- all of the following works are purely fictional, and in no way do they represent any of the stray kids as individuals in real-life.

- ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ғɪᴄs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ɪᴅᴇᴀs, sᴏ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ/ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs).

© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

💋 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ!

❦― tag directory

genres: ______ - angst [☹] - fluff [☾] - humor [☁] - contains violence [☄ ] - suggestive [✴] - pure smut [❦ , 18+ - mdni]

estimated length: ______ - ♣ :: reactions (depends on how many members are in it, but between 500-1.0k) - ✰ :: drabble/imagine/scenario (500-6.0k) - ♔ :: oneshot (1.5-15.k) - ♦ longfic (15.k+) - request [✎] - completed series [✢]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🥀 ot8

skz & lingerie ~ wc: 5.4k ~ ☾ , ✴ / ❦ , ✰

⤷ [established relationship] idol!skz. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov.

in which you wear lingerie around skz.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🥀 chan

when you awaken ~ wc: 3.0k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] sick!fic. idol!chan. sick!reader. hurt/comfort. reader pov.

it's always at the most inconvenient of times that your body decides to gift you with your period- and this time around, it's during a moment when your boyfriend chan is busy in his studio. so surely, he won't have time to spare to comfort you, right??

use me ~ wc: 4.8k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] slightyandere!chan. idol!chan. hurt/comfort. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

recently, life's been feeling rather dull for you. and with you getting caught into the trap of doing the same daily grind, it's up to your boyfriend chan to shake you from your cloud of unhappiness and try and heal your exhausted heart.

still my favourite girl ~ wk: 6.7k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] age gap au. idol!chan. hurt/comfort. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

against your boyfriend chan's wishes, you had made a twitter account after many years - and what a mistake that was. now, you're left with the aftermath of the damage, and chan is the only person who can pick up the broken pieces of you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🥀 lee know

don't leave me, my love ～ wc: 8.3k ～ ☹ , ☾ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] sick!fic. idol!minho. sick!reader. hurt/comfort. reader pov.

it's the dead of winter when you suddenly come down with a bad case of the flu. and your doting boyfriend minho is more than happy and willing to help you through the pain.

a voice of reason ~ wc: 3.7k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] idol!minho. angry/protective!minho. hurt/comfort. reader pov.

for as long as you can remember, you've always hated going to the salon - always hated others touching your fragile hair. and now, as an adult, you want to change that... want to face your fears. but you've never had good luck, which becomes clearly apparent after your appointment at the salon.

do you feel my hand? it is there. ⤐ preview | part one: delicate words | part two: warm and soft | part three: a storm brewing | part four: glinting silver | part five: a half empty bottle | part six: bad ideas | part seven: no one else | part eight: room full of colors | part nine: faltering breaths in the tv light | part ten: blur of a shadow | part eleven: through the moonlit curtains | part twelve: as fate would have it ~ wc: 41.k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ❦ , ♦ , ✢

⤷ [strangers to lovers] veterinarian!minho. client!reader. hurt/comfort. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

make me forget ~ wc: 5.0k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] idol!chan. curvy!reader. hurt/comfort. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

you had thought that your scars from the past were healed, but evidently, your ex from college was still clouding your mind. thankfully, your boyfriend minho is right there to help you heal from the heartbreak.

: ̗̀➛〚 timestamps 〛

{ 𝟎𝟎:𝟏𝟗 } ~ ❦ , ✰ , smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🥀 changbin

fire & ice~ wc: 2.1k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ✴ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] sick!fic. idol!changbin. sick!reader hurt/comfort. reader pov.

you never expected to find yourself in the gym late at night with your boyfriend changbin. but then again, you never expected that you'd get injured either.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🥀 hyunjin

never let go ～ wc: 6.3k ～ ☹ , ☾ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] sick!fic. idol!hyunjin. sick!reader. hurt/comfort. reader pov.

it's been proving to be very difficult to keep the dance class that you take three times a week a secret from your boyfriend hyunjin. and the lies only become even harder to tell when you suddenly hurt your foot during class one night.

my girl ~ wc: 2.8k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ♔ , ✎

⤷ [established relationship] sick!fic. idol!hyunjin. sick!hyunjin. hurt/comfort. reader pov.

your first visit back to the small countryside village that your boyfriend hyunjin grew up in suddenly takes a turn for the worse when he starts feeling sick to his stomach. and you're the first person he turns to for comfort.

the sound of your name ~ wc: 10.6k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [enemies to lovers] academic rivals x dark academia uni au. nonidol!hyunjin. rich hyunjin x poor reader. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

ever since you started studying at korean national university of arts in seoul, hwang hyunjin, the other top student of the school and the dean's son, has been an absolute thorn in your ass. although, it turns out that not all thorns are necessarily bad.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🥀 jisung

late night fantasies ～ wc: 9.4k ～ ☹ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] idol!jisung. estranged!jisung. softdom!jisung. needy!jisung. hurt/comfort. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

things between you and jisung have slowly fizzled out within the past few months. the tension only gets worse after a heated argument that almost ends with your breakup, which ultimately forces jisung to prove to you how much he still truly loves you.

i'm always here ~ wc: 2.6k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] sick!fic. idol!jisung. spiraling/burn out!jisung. hurt/comfort. reader pov.

after a bout of not seeing your boyfriend jisung, you take it upon yourself to visit him one night in the studio. but what you find when you get there is the opposite of a happy sight.

the other half of it ~ wc: 4.1 ~ ☹ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship w/a male oc] enemies to lovers. producer!jisung x hairstylist!reader. harddom!jisung. twin dynamic. cheating au. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

the han twins are infamous in south korea for being the #1 duo in the country, with han jisoon gifted in rapping and han jisung in producing. jisoon is the best man a girl could ever ask for- and a wonderful boyfriend. it's just too bad that jisung is the one you truly want out of the two brothers. 

: ̗̀➛〚 timestamps 〛

{ 𝟐𝟑:𝟒𝟏 } ~ ❦ , ✰ , smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🥀 felix

sparkles and butterflies ~ wc: 3.9k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ♔ , ✎

⤷ [established relationship] sick!fic. idol!felix. sick!felix. hurt/comfort. reader pov.

when your boyfriend felix unexpectedly falls ill with a bad migraine, you automatically throw yourself into the caretaker role. but maybe he needs more than just some pills to relieve the pain... maybe, all the medicine he really needs is you.

angel in the shadows ~ wc: 3.4k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ♔ , ✎

⤷ [established relationship] nonidol!felix. slight confession au. hurt/comfort. reader pov.

ever since you were a little girl, you've had to battle the shadowy demons away from the edges of your mind each and every night. and you're used to dealing with it at this point. but sometimes, you just need your boyfriend felix to help you through the bone-chilling nights.

react ~ wc: 4.3k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] nonidol!felix. softboy!felix // harddom!felix. estranged relationship. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

in all of the time that you've dated him, felix has never dropped the innocent, flower boy persona that he's known for. but perhaps, you'll finally be the one to crack him open to show who he truly is underneath all of the softness and glitter.

weathering your shades of blue. ⤐ part one: through the looking glass | part two: early birds | part three: amidst the flames | part four: crimson edges | part five: ink against the shoreline | part six: between moonlight and asphalt | part seven: after everything | part eight: tank tops & wet towels ~ wc: 20.k+ ~ ☹ , ☾ , ❦ , ♦

⤷ [childhood friends to enemies to lovers] nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. hurt/comfort. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.

not-so-perfect gentleman ~ wc: 1.8k ~ ❦ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] nonidol!felix. rich!felix. harddom!felix x sub!reader. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

coming from one of the richest families in all of seoul, lee felix is known to be one of the most prim and proper young men in the city. too bad he's not so proper when it comes to you.

: ̗̀➛〚 timestamps 〛

{ 𝟏𝟎:𝟐𝟕 } ~ ❦ , ✰ , smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🥀 seungmin

coming soon...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🥀 jeongin

coming soon...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🥀 minlix

steal my breath away. ~ wc: 3.5k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ✴ , ♔

⤷ [confession au] idol!minho/idol!felix. introvert minho & extrovert felix. literally grumpy and sunshine troupe. hurt/comfort. minho pov.

although they were complete opposites, minho and felix got along perfectly - fit together like the two halves of a silvery moon. at least, that's what minho had initially thought for years, until felix suddenly starts outright avoiding him.

my dirty little secret. ~ wc: 5.5k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [childhood friends to lovers au] nonidol!minho/nonidol!felix. straight (??) minho & gay felix. felix pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

minho has always been straight and felix has always been gay. but after a certain incident happens during a drunken game of truth-or-dare between friends, sexualities and feelings will be thoroughly questioned.

teach me. ~ wc: 6.7k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [confession au] idol!minho/idol!felix. felix reads hentai. experienced minho x virgin felix. hurt/comfort. felix pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

felix feels like he's the most foolish, inexperienced virgin there is, virtually oblivious to the nuances of a sex life. but then minho comes along - and offers to... teach him, in more ways than just one.

best kind of distraction. ~ wc: 9.6k ~ ☹ , ☾ , ☄ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [childhood best friends to lovers au] dancer!minho/dancer!felix. felix's in an abusive relationship. post-breakup blues. hurt/comfort. felix pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

felix thought he'd always be with his long-term boyfriend jicheul, until one drunken night ruins everything they'd built up together. and the only person he can turn to in his time of crisis is his childhood best friend, minho.

turn for me. ~ wc: 6.0k ~ ☾ , ❦ , ♔

⤷ [established relationship] idol!minho/idol!felix. felix is kinda inexperienced when it comes to sex toys. felix pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

felix never expected that his boyfriend minho would have such devious thoughts and ideas in his mind when he agreed to try out a handful of sex toys. but so quickly, he's finding out that the older man wants to do many new things with him.

a fist full of pills, and rivers in my eyes. ⤐ part one: interlude | part two: there, a willow weeps | part three: wanted by all or none | part four: fidgeting in mirrors | part five: sweat & shadows | part six: so very predictable | part seven: the pulse in your grip | part eight: even if it's a rebound | part nine: when denial fades away | part ten: keepin the locked turned ~ wc: 25.k+ ~ ♦ , ☹ , ☄ , ❦

⤷ [brothers best friend troupe] college au. dancer!minho/artist!Felix. age gap (abt 4 years). extremely dark themes throughout. minho pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

lee minho was a very content man living his quiet life alongside his childhood best friend chris. they were both studying at the korean national university of arts. but never did minho expect chris' little brother lee felix to join them four years later. quickly rising to popularity as the freshman known for legendary parties full of drugs and liquor, felix's reputation for being the campus' "thirsty little slut" is all-consuming. but minho, a senior, remains unfazed by the change in felix from the boy he once knew. yet, perhaps felix's transformation is driven by more than just growing up.

❦― friendly disclaimer⌇sᴏᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ sᴍᴜᴛ. ᴛʜɪs ᴍᴇᴀɴs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ sᴜɪᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀs. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ, ᴅɴɪ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɢᴇ ᴏғ 18.

© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

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[itsclydebitches]

This interaction popped into my head fully-formed today and I knew no peace until I wrote it out. They're friends, your honor 😭

“Getting long, huh?”

Trent froze in the act of putting up his hair, a few tendrils slipping to fall in his eyes, obscuring Roy. It was still instinctual to flinch back, his father’s acidic voice ringing in his ears as he said again and again and again how it was past time for Trent to see a barber, each reminder casual like his judgment was a given. Well, it always had been. Trent never found the courage to admit that he was a regular of salons and that each product they sold there cost more than his father’s first rent. His lip had curled, barb-like, when Trent had last visited, the shoulder-length cut exacerbating the news of his firing. He could only imagine what his father would say if he saw it now, curls licking at the small of his back.

Trent’s mind processed all of this in a matter of seconds, journalistic instincts finally overriding the fear to focus on reality: the neutral tone of Roy’s voice. His appreciative glance. Their normal coffee hand-off that Trent had to resurrect numb fingers to complete.

Roy was not his father. No one at Richmond was.

“Yeah,” Trent agreed, voice scratchy. He took a hasty gulp of his drink. “It’s never been this long before.”

Non-committal grunt from the other side of the office. That was the Roy equivalent of dragging his chair over, propping his chin on his hands, and begging for all the juicy details.

“I’m... thinking of cutting it again?”

That got a reaction. Roy’s head whipped around in a gesture that screamed ‘ABSOLUTELY NOT’ but his response, when it came, was just another measured hum. No pressure; plenty of space to accept a statement, or engage with the question. Trent had to bite his lip to keep from laughing outright. But god, Roy was trying so hard and that felt so good.

Though he was likewise trying to be kinder to his past self, Trent hated that he’d caved and cut his hair a day before approaching Richmond, that snide voice in his head insisting that he’d be lucky to make it into the building -- they certainly wouldn’t hire a slovenly poof, as his father might say. Ah, but then that voice did have a hint of his Scouse accent, didn't it? Really, Trent hadn’t given it much thought until Ted mentioned having a bag full of hair-ties and suddenly he was desperate for the length back, if only to make use of something that Ted had held.

Embolden by caffeine and the mellow mood, Trent decided to gift Roy some truth.

“I grew it this long for him,” he said, head nodding towards the closed door. Behind the glass Ted was pecking at his keyboard in a manner that was not adorable, not at all, because describing a middle-aged American as ‘adorable’ was too much, even for Trent’s purple prose. So Ted was merely whatever word instilled the desire to kick one’s feet and doodle connecting hearts around the edges of a journal.

Trent’s crush was no secret -- to no one but Ted, anyway -- but speaking about it now, openly, mere feet from the man himself... that was thrilling. Ridiculously so for a Tuesday morning spent with Roy Kent.

“I missed a couple of appointments back when the book was going through proofs and then we had that week-long storm, remember?" Trent mimed the sheets of rain that had flooded their streets and turned flower beds into dirt soup. "I came in drenched one day, just sopping, with my shoes squelching and my blazer ruined. I’m pretty sure I scarred one of the security guards when I threatened to get him fired if he didn’t find me a towel in the next thirty seconds. I was a bitch, no two ways about it. Meanwhile, Ted took one look at me, gasped, and said I was a mermaid.” Trent grinned at the memory, fingers fluttering. “Then he lent me a shirt and I spent the rest of the day wondering if the purple made me look like Ariel.”

“...Did you keep the shirt?”

“Of course not. It was lost--” air quotes, “--at the cleaners.”

Roy snorted in amusement. Trent was surprised though when his expression grew tight and when he spoke, so quiet Trent almost didn’t catch it, there was an undertone of hesitance; like Roy feared overstepping some line.

“Grew it long for him,” he said, “but are you keeping it long for him? I mean, what the fuck do you want?”

Trent blinked, considering. Oh. Well. If you’d asked him point blank he would have said categorically that he wasn’t someone who changed himself to appease others... but then, forty years pretending to be straight didn’t really support that, now did it? The truth was that he wanted strangers to stop staring on the street whenever he went out with his curls and a skirt. He wanted to teach Amelia how to braid his hair, just like he braided hers each weekend. He wanted a fucking buzz-cut to combat the summer heat. He wanted to make the flower crowns he’d never even dared to imagine in his youth. He wanted to spend less of his salary on products -- or at least feel less guilty about the indulgence. He wanted to borrow Keeley’s scrunchies. He wanted to donate it all to Locks of Love. He wanted hair long enough to impulsively dye it red, just to see Ted laugh.

Trent wanted to go back in time and find the courage to change his own body without riding the coattails of a crush’s compliment. He wanted to accept that there was no version of himself he liked without the influence of Ted Lasso and kiss him, kiss him, kiss him in gratitude.

“I don’t know,” Trent admitted, “but for now I want this.”

Roy gave a short nod, his shoulders relaxing. He glanced towards the window where Ted still sat, huffing in a manner that a brave man might have called fond, and returned to his work.

Once they’d settled into their daily silence, Trent couldn’t resist:

“I do want it long enough for him to pull.”

“Fuck off!”

Across the way Ted jumped, wondering what had Trent laughing like that and Roy slamming through the door, yelling something about "TM-fucking-I."

Watching Trent tip his head back so his hair flew, danced, caressed his cheek as it passed, Ted decided he’d just have to ask him about it over dinner.

[luna-stars-world]

story time:

Today was supposed to be a relaxing day; I had booked an appointment to get my hair done at my favorite salon. As I sat in the chair, the stylist worked her magic, transforming my hair into a sleek, beautiful style. I felt amazing and couldn’t wait to see the final result.

When it was time to check out, I confidently handed over my gift cards, but to my dismay, they didn’t work. The cashier tried several times, but each attempt failed. My heart sank, and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. I didn’t have any other way to pay at that moment and started to panic.

Just then, a kind man who had been waiting for his turn stepped forward. Without a second thought, he offered to pay for my appointment. I was stunned by his generosity and insisted that he didn’t need to, but he simply smiled and said, “It’s okay, I’m happy to help.

His kindness touched me deeply. I thanked him profusely, but the emotion of the moment overwhelmed me. As I left the salon, I couldn’t hold back my tears. I felt a mix of gratitude and relief. It was such a beautiful reminder of the goodness in people, and it made me realize how impactful a simple act of kindness can be.

I walked home with tears streaming down my face, feeling incredibly grateful for the stranger’s generosity. It’s a moment I’ll never forget and a story I’ll always cherish.

[bunnytornado]

Okay so imagine going to a beauty salon in hell and Vox is sitting in the waiting room flipping through a tech magazine about new TV models. He is considering changing up his look.

Beauty and the Jackelope

Vox X Reader Platonic

No TWs

Rachelle’s Beauty Emporium. While located on the outskirts of Cannibal Town, it was one of the best places to go for beauty advice. Normally, I avoided Cannibal Town just due to the fact it wasn’t the best in terms of getting grub.

Rachelle’s place though, had it’s charm. Getting my Strawberry hair cut and styled, while they did so well avoiding antlers and ears, sure made it worth going to. Even more so when they helped during those shedding months.

Hence, why I was here today. I needed the velvet shed. It was starting to peel on it’s own and it was driving me crazy. Which meant I became irritable at work. I had gotten into it more than once with Vox’s head assistant when he badgered me to get repairs done quicker on any systems that ended up down.

So, I came here to get rid of this week’s velvet. However, I hadn’t expected to see a certain demon there. What was Vox doing here of all places? “B-Boss,” I squeaked out and slowly sat beside him.

“Do I know you,” Vox said with a huff and air of annoyance. He flipped through the magazine in his hand. Wait, was that a TV model magazine?

My confusion and nosy nature perked at such a strange situation. “Yes. I work for you. As part of your IT department…I’ve been in your office to fix your TVs…a lot.”

“No. That’s a deer demon. You’re not her.” Vox stated, looking down his non-existent nose at me. “I would know. Don’t try to fool me stupid rabbit.”

I gave him a dirty look. “Sir, I’m a Jackelope. Not a rabbit. And 100% not a deer.”

“Ha! Prove it.” Vox said and shook out the magazine like it was a newspaper, settling back into the chair.

I growled and glared at him. My antler’s flared slightly, growing a hair, before I forced myself to calm down. "I don’t have to prove shit to you. I have better things to do here then remind you who I am.”

“Knew it, Rabbit. If you just wanted to get in my lap for a ride, you should have just said so instead of trying to act like you work for me. After I get my new model, you and I can go back to my place,” Vox purred and flipped a page.

I felt like I was going to puke and shook my head, my anger flaring again. My ears flashed a red, and my nose scrunched. My antlers grew to where they could be seen. I held my tongue, but my ire was already flaring. Between the itching and now his attitude, I was losing control of my temper.

Suddenly, I felt a claw poke at my three-pointed antlers. “Excuse you,” I snapped and pulled away from his claw. “Anyone tell you to fucking look with your eyes and not your claws?”

“Aww little Bambi,” Vox purred and reached out to tap them again. “I swear, all of you deer demons have the same antler growth.”

“I. Am. Not. A. Deer! Dammit, I am a fucking Jackelope,” I snarled and moved to a few seats away from him, out of reach.

“All I’m seeing is a Deer Rabbit,” Vox said and smirked. He knew what he was doing, and he knew this was his employee from the start. But some things were just too much fun to skip out on. Especially when this employee was usually calm and collected. “So, Deer, why don’t you climb in my lap, and I can continue looking at new seasonal models?”

Just as I was about to finally snap, my name was called to go get my hair and antlers taken care of. “Bunny?”

“HA! So, you are just a Deer Rabbit,” Vox laughed and grinned.

“Uh, Fuck you! I am a Jackelope! My name is Bunny,” I snapped and stomped off.

As I walked away, Vox continued to laugh and flip through his magazine. “I think a Curved Monitor might look good.”

“You’re Forehead would be too big sir,” I snap before rushing off for my appointment.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Sick of each other's crap, and due to a rather untimely squabble in the Materia room involving dangerous reality-warping magics, Sephiroth and Genesis go full mental-Freaky Friday and swap personalities for a day.

Angeal decides today's the day Zack's going to earn that First-class rank through the power of tactical pursuit and negotiation!

Freaky Friday

• Sephiroth and Genesis sit in a lab in the Research and Development Division. Sephiroth has both elbows propped on the steel table, resting his head in his hands. He periodically blows a stray lock of hair from his face.

• Genesis sits beside him doodling on the back of his Loveless copy. Yes, they're both extremely bored.

*Genesis groans*

Genesis: Chadley! Can you speed this up? I have a salon appointment in an hour!

• Chadley looks up from the curious contraption he's working on

Chadley: Oh, please wait! I'm almost done, and then my experiment will only take a few minutes.

Sephiroth: Take your time, Chadley. There's no rush.

*Genesis groans again*

Genesis: Remind me why I'm here again? Your presence alone should've sufficed. And besides, he's your brother.

Sephiroth: He's... something of the sort. And I'm not sure what you have to complain about. All you've done is sit there and let your DNA be collected. The only difference between this and what you were doing up in your office is that here you're being useful.

Genesis: Preposterous. I was working before you rudely dragged me down here with you.

Sephiroth: Genesis. You were playing Candy Crush on your phone.

Genesis:

Sephiroth: And you weren't even good. You were on level four.

Genesis: You have no proof of that whatsoever.

• Chadley crawls out from under the machine with a wrench in his hand. He wipes away the sweat from his brow and stands up.

Chadley: Okay! It's ready!

• The two of them walk over to the machine, a dome-like structure supported by a small open space at the bottom, presumably where one would stick their head as indicated by the padded slabs sticking out of it.

Chadley: You know what this is?

Genesis: A...giant nail dryer?

Sephiroth: Why would he build a giant nail dryer?

Genesis: To dry giant fucking nails, you idiot.

Chadley: Okay, well you're both wrong. I'm not sure what to call it yet, but this machine is able to transfer one party's genes into another party's and consequentially edit their DNA to match the other's.

Sephiroth: Fascinating. I assume the overall goal is to ameliorate the receiving party's combat performance?

Chadley: If this works, you and Genesis will receive the other's innate abilities and much more! Think of it like this: Sephiroth, you'll receive Genesis' stellar abilities with materia, and Genesis will receive your swordfighting prowess.

• Genesis tries to run but Sephiroth holds him in place.

Sephiroth: Good! We're ready.

Genesis: I hate you.

• Chadley instructs them to lay down on the padded slab with their heads inside the dome.

Genesis: How badly will this hurt?

Chadley: Oh, it won't hurt at all! You'll see! Just try to relax and imagine yourself about to receive a massage.

• Chadley pulls a lever. Immediately the machine flares up in colorful, blinking lights. The inside of the metal dome violently shakes as streaks of lightning spill out. Sephiroth and Genesis are screaming.

Chadley: I was wrong.

• Chadley quickly pushes the lever back up. The machine stops, smoke billows from the inside of the dome, and Sephiroth and Genesis' bodies lay concerningly still.

Chadley: ...

• Chadley pulls out his phone and starts too look up wether or not Cyborgs can go to prison. But he quickly snaps out of it and rushes to check on the bodies. Sephiroth's body is the first to twitch. Chadley kneels down beside him and checks his pulse.

Chadley: Oh, good! You're alive!

• Sephiroth's body slides out from under the dome and groans.

Sephiroth (??): By the goddess. That was singlehandedly the worst experience of my life.

Chadley: Sephiroth! Are you alright?

*Sephiroth (??) pulls a face*

Sephiroth (??): Sephiroth? Why are calling me—

• Genesis (in Sephiroth's body) notices the silver hair cascading onto his lap. His eyes widen in horror.

• Meanwhile Sephiroth (in Genesis' body) slides out from under the dome.

Sephiroth: That was rather enjoyable. I especially liked the tingling sensation in my brain when the third wave of lighting hit.

• Sephiroth (in Genesis' body) looks to the side and sees his own body staring back at him in horror.

• It takes a total of three agonizingly silent seconds for the both of them to scream.

• Chadley is desperately trying to fix the machine. Genesis is pacing back and forth around the lab. He's tied Sephiroth's hair up out of his face and can be heard mumbling incoherencies.

Genesis: When I was a child praying to the goddess to be more like Sephiroth, THIS ISN'T WHAT I MEANT!

Meanwhile Sephiroth is sitting on top of the lab table. Genesis's red coat is discarded beside him along with his knit sweater. He's fanning himself with the Loveless copy.

Sephiroth: Why is your body temperature so unnaturally high!? Have you seen a doctor about this?

• Genesis stops pacing.

Genesis: SEPHIROTH! MY HAIR IS FUCKING SILVER! I HAVE EYES LIKE A SNAKE AND I MISS MY OVERBEARING MOTHER FOR NO REASON! I HAVE BIGGER PROBLEMS RIGHT NOW!

• Sephiroth leans back and looks at Chadley over by the machine.

Sephiroth: Have you fixed it yet?

• Chadley slides out from under the dome and stands up.

Chadley: Unfortunately it's going to be a while. I'm afraid I won't be able to get it fixed until tomorrow.

Sephiroth & Genesis: TOMORROW?

Genesis: Chadley, we both have work to do. How are we supposed to go about our lives in each other's bodies!?

Chadley: Hm. I suppose you could always just pretend to be each other until I sort things out.

Sephiroth: This is a nightmare. I'm Genesis.

Genesis: Ugh! Fine. If it's the only way to hide this, what real choice do we have?

Sephiroth: I'm in your body. I'm Genesis.

Chadley: Not only that, but if Professor Hojo finds out, I'll definitely be punished. He doesn't know about the machine.

Sephiroth, smiling: I'm Genesis.

Genesis: Oh, I won't let that creep lay a finger on you. Don't worry, we'll keep a low profile.

Sephiroth, grinning like the Joker: I'm Genesis!

Genesis: Yes, Sephiroth. What's your point?

Sephiroth laughs, giddy with excitement as he plays with the dangling earrings on his right ear.

Sephiroth: I'm you! Do you know what that means? That I'm not expected to be Sephiroth. I'm free of all of Sephiroth's responsibilities! The spotlight binds me no more!

Genesis: Um, Sephiroth, don't you think we should talk—

• Sephiroth is running out the door before Genesis could lay down any sort of ground rules.

• Genesis grabs his coat and shirt and sprints after him.

Genesis: SEPHIROTH! GET BACK HERE WITH MY BODY! DON'T YOU DARE MODIFY ANYTHING ON MY PERSON! I'LL TATTOO A PENIS ON YOUR CHEST IF YOU DO! AND PUT MY SHIRT BACK ON! I HAVE AN APPEARANCE TO MAINTAIN!

• They disappear into the hallway, leaving Chadley alone.

• Chadley sighs, takes out his phone and resumes to look up wether or not Cyborgs can go to prison. Apparently they can.

• Chadley goes back to work immediately.

• Angeal is up bright and early, dutifully watering the lone office plant by the elevator. The doors swing open and out steps....

Angeal: SEPHIROTH?

Genesis: Yes, dear?

Angeal: ARE YOU COSPLAYING AS GENESIS?

• Genesis couldn't stand the feel of Sephiroth's uniform. Iconic as it was, he couldn't help but feel utterly indecent without a shirt. Plus, he couldn't not wear his red coat. It would be a sin.

• It is notable to mention that Genesis pinned Sephiroth's silver hair up in a claw clip. This will be important later on.

• Genesis looks down at his body.

Genesis: I...I am! I had an epiphany last night, you see. Though my chest area is impressive and delightful to stare at, it can get quite cold. So I borrowed Genesis's fabulous uniform. Have I ever mentioned how fashionable I find Genesis? He is the epitome of style and—

• Sephiroth in Genesis' body stumbles off the elevator wearing nothing but the uniform pants and eating a Banora White.

Sephiroth: You will not believe how quickly this body absorbs alcohol!

Angeal: Genesis please tell don't tell me you're drunk.

Sephiroth: Oh Genesis isn't drunk.

Angeal: What is up with you two? Today is not the day for this. We have a meeting with Lazard in ten minutes.

• Angeal walks off. Genesis panics, takes off his red coat and forcibly drapes it around Sephiroth.

Genesis: What is wrong with you!? Do you want to blow our cover!?

Sephiroth: I apologize. I just can't seem to control myself. Your body has a lot of chaotic energy that just makes me want to set things on fire.

Genesis: Ha-ha! I knew I wasn't crazy.

Sephiroth: Also, it is very fun being you. I can walk around the building quoting Loveless at the top of my lungs and throw apples at people. No one bats an eye.

Genesis: I'm glad someone's having fun. I tried to go get coffee this morning and almost shut down an entire street. And then I got a call from Professor Hojo who grilled me for an hour on the phone because I didn't show up last night for a blood collection. AND—

• Genesis tugs at the silver locks of hair framing his face.

Genesis: This THING is impossible to wash! I had to use an entire bottle of conditioner. How much money do you spend on conditioner!?

Sephiroth: Hm. Being Sephiroth isn't so fun, is it?

Genesis: It is not.

Sephiroth: Good. Let this be a lesson learned. By the way⏤*he reaches for the clip*⏤the claw clip might be hurting your skull as my hair is quite heavy.

• Genesis tries to back away, but it's too late.

Genesis: NO, DON'T⏤

• Sephiroth pulls the claw clip off. Instead of Sephiroth's long, luscious hair cascading down his back, shoulder-length hair falls around Genesis's face.

• The silence is loud.

Genesis: I can explain!

Sephiroth:

Genesis: I was trying to brush it out after I washed it last night, but it got too tangled and matted beyond saving and I didn't know what else to do!

Sephiroth:

Genesis: Your hair grows back quickly, right?

Sephiroth:

Genesis: Sephiroth please talk so I know you're not mad.

Sephiroth:

Genesis: Sephiroth you're scaring me.

Sephiroth:

Genesis, crying: SephiROTH.

Sephiroth: It took ten years to get my hair to that length.

Sephiroth: Ten years from now, they will still be finding your body parts.

• Genesis is disheveled, covered in scratches and holding a built-up ball of firaga in his hand. Sephiroth is after him.

Sephiroth: I'm going to kill you.

Genesis: HELP! HELP! HEL⏤

• Genesis just about dodges Sephiroth's sword slicing the air next to him. It appears Sephiroth is serious.

Genesis: OH YEAH? WELL I ALSO POSTED A BUNCH OF THIRST-TRAP PHOTOS ON YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA THIS MORNING!

• Sephiroth swings the sword again, this time it crashes into a glass window.

Sephiroth: REALLY? WELL I SHOPLIFTED A SCARF FROM THE GIFT SHOP LAST NIGHT. WHEN YOU'RE BACK IN THIS PATHETIC VESSEL, YOU'LL BE KNOWN AS A THIEF!

• Sephiroth dodges the ball of fire launched his way. It incinerates the plant Angeal had been keeping.

Genesis: OKAY! YOU'LL BE PLEASED TO KNOW THAT I FLIRTED WITH SCARLET! AND I GAVE HER YOUR PHONE NUMBER! HAVE FUN ON YOUR DATE NEXT WEDNESDAY!

• Sephiroth swings the sword in an arc, nipping Genesis in the shoulder.

Sephiroth: AND I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I SENT OUT A MASS E-MAIL TO RED LEATHER THIS VERY MORNING!

Genesis: YOU DIDN'T.

Sephiroth: I DID! I TOLD THEM THAT CARPET DOES NOT, IN FACT, MATCH THE DRAPES!

Genesis: YOU DIDN'T.

Sephiroth: I TOLD THEM YOUR HAIR IS NATURALLY BROWN.

• Genesis' response is a guttural scream as he tackles Sephiroth to the ground.

• Back in the conference room, Zack is slumped in his seat at the table. Lazard won't start the meeting without Sephiroth and Genesis and he's bored.

• Lazard sighs and checks his watch.

Lazard: Angeal, perhaps you should go out and look for them.

• A distant sound of an explosion is heard, followed by shattering glass, a wall breaking and what's clearly a muffled scream.

Angeal, sighing: Zack, why don't you do the honors?

Zack: Wha...For real!? Awesome! I've never broken up a Sephiroth and Genesis fight before!

Lazard: Well, today's your lucky day. *he checks his watch again* Please be quick.

Zack: On it!

*Zack shoots out of his seat and runs out the door*

Angeal: He's screwed.

Lazard: How so?

Angeal: Sephiroth and Genesis are inhabiting each other's bodies.

Lazard: What!? How is that possible? Did they tell you that?

Angeal: No.

Lazard: Then how did you figure it out?

Angeal: Because Sephiroth was wearing a shirt.