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monseulamourrr · 9 months

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→ “of pink sunsets and cotton candy kisses.” || ahn yujin x reader fic.

— a nice and eventful day out with your girlfriend gives you the peace and relaxation you’ve needed for a while despite it all being unexpected…

word count: 1.3k

tags: tooth-rotting fluff once again!

requested? : nope.

a/n: this is for the wonderful @vex91 🩵🩵 this kind of came out of the blue so i hope it isn’t too messy 💔 i hope you all (especially vexie!) enjoy this one! ☺️

when your girlfriend told you that she was going to give you your well-earned rest, you thought would hand over a free admission to the local spa and massage salon or treat you to a nice dinner by the beautiful lake but then again, your girlfriend is ahn yujin. and ahn yujin was full of surprises.

she stood beside you with her eyes a million times bright than all the colourful lights that surrounded the two of you. she took note of your bewildered and utterly confused expression and laughed as she gently nudged your shoulder with her own. the smell of cinnamon and a whole lot of other sweet things start wafting into your nose, the sounds of machinery and the different music coming from numerous speakers were tantalizing despite your confusion. you turned to your girlfriend (whose eyes did not leave your face the entire time you let everything sink in) and spoke in a quiet voice, “the… fair?”

“THE FAIR!”

a couple of people turned their heads to your direction, making you slightly bow down yours as a small apology. yujin seems unaffected, however, slaps the all-you-can-ride wristband on your arm, “there was no way i was gonna let you miss this, of course! we’re gonna go on every ride, we’re gonna eat a lot of food, and we’re gonna be happy.” she said.

she pulls you aside so the two of you wouldn’t be in the middle of the pathway. yujin looked pretty under the golden lights of the giant carousel the two of you have decided to stand beside in. she takes your hands, “you’ve been wanting a break for a while. and i thought this would be fun. we don’t really do this often.” she raises your hands to your lips and gives them a soft kiss. “is this okay?” she whispers, this time with a quiver in her voice.

“are you kidding?” you smiled at her, then looked around. the entire place was bright with lights, music, energy, and happiness. this was the next best thing yujin could’ve done for you. “it’s more than enough.” and then you kissed her hands in return, grinning when she noticeably got shy.

“come on then, let’s have some fun!” yujin puts a fox ear headband on your head and a dog ear headband on her own before taking your hand and dragging you towards the nearest intense ride in the area.

it was more like yujin was going to have fun and you were going to scream your head off. she made sure to drag you to all of the scary rides. not only will she have the time of her life laughing at you but because you would hug her arm so tightly and refuse to let go the entire ride. was it worth the playful hits on the shoulder after? totally.

at least you beat her on almost all of the carnival games though. except for the ones that involved shooting balls through hoops—yujin played basketball a lot in high school, after all. she won you a lot of stuffed dolls and after the fourteenth doll, you had to drag her away from a game even though she absolutely refused. (she just really wanted to win you that giant snorlax plushie!)

last but not least, the two of you snacked on the variety of food that the fair offered! from corndogs, candy apples, rolled ice cream, shawarma, and (your personal favourite) mini donuts! yujin had insisted on sitting on one of the tables near the stage inside the fair. there was a live band that performed a variety of songs and you teased yujin about going up there and singing with them (since the band was inviting some audience members to sing and show off their talent) but she bashfully refused. always so humble about her talents!

“you’re such a messy eater.” you grabbed a napkin from your bag and wipe the ketchup from her lips (she was eating pigs in a blanket, saying that they looked too cute not to be feasted on). yujin grins while you cleaned her face up, and you couldn’t help but return the smile.

“thanks, love.” yujin says as you trashed the napkin. you pinched her cheek as a response, getting a whine in return. you then opted to watch as the band sang for the crowd, nodding your head along to the music.

(apparently, yujin much rather preferred watching you. her eyes were fixed on your face the entire time the band played. and even when you caught her staring and teased her for it, she refused to look away. happiness looked good on you. yujin wanted that feeling to be constant—even better if she were the one to make it so.)

what to do for the final hour? walk around the park right beside the fair where it was much more quiet, and where the two if you were offered some scenery as you decided to rest in the middle of a bridge. the stream underneath it ran smoothly along its path and you found joy in just staring as the sun reflected on it.

you averted your gaze from the stream to the skies above. a mix of orange, purple, and mostly pink. beautiful.

“look what i got us!” ah, speaking of beautiful. yujin approaches you with two sticks of cotton candy; hers was blue, yours was purple. “i couldn’t resist the kid that sold them. i swear this is our last snack today.” she leaned on the railing as you did, taking a bite out of the sweet stuff she had and humming in approval right after.

the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with only the sounds of the water running and the distant music accompanying you. you move closer to yujin, laying your head on her shoulder as you stared at the trees in the distance. you feel her rest her cheek on your head, and she wraps her free arm around your waist loosely to keep you close.

“did you like all of this, (y/n)?” yujin asked. you feel her thumb caressing your hip. you feel safe.

“of course. this is the best day i’ve had in a while,” you raised your head slightly. all your worries and troubles seem to just melt away when you look at yujin. “so thank you.” you lean close, laughing slightly when your foreheads bumped against each other by accident, and gave yujin a kiss so light it made her want more.

she doesn’t ask for more, she simply takes it. politely, of course. yujin tilts her head and catches your lips in a searing kiss. you giggled at her enthusiasm but you returned the affection with the same energy, your own free arm snaking around her back and clutching her sweater. her lips tasted sweet, must be the cotton candy. you liked it.

yujin pulls you closer (maybe she tasted the cotton candy on you too), never really having enough of your kiss and always needing more. a gust of wind blows towards your direction and what with yujin melting you into a puddle, your grip on your cotton candy stick loosens, making you accidentally drop it into the stream.

“shoot—sorry, yuj.” you apologized, watching as the water washed the cotton candy away along with its stick.

“it’s okay,” yujin gives you a kiss on your temple and pats your head. “we can share this one!” she said, raising her cotton candy to your face. well, with a smile like hers, how could you resist? you took a bite out of the blue cotton candy, humming in approval at its delicious blueberry flavour. yujin couldn’t resist kissing you again, making you giggle but it was welcomed.

“i’m glad you enjoyed this day, (y/n),” yujin presses her forehead against yours. “and i want to give you more days like these. if you let me.”

you laughed softly and gave her nose a small kiss, “i’m looking forward to it all, love.”

the two of you spent the rest of your time there on that bridge—warm and happy while sharing cotton candy kisses underneath the pretty, pink skies.

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ssinnerplazahotel · 3 months

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𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙚&𝙀

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter One*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC:5k

Warning: age gap, eventual smut, fluff

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Masterlist: Prologue

YOU WEREN’T YOURSELF WITHOUT YOUR MOTHER. You didn’t think you would be yourself ever again. You carried a piece of her with you—a silk scarf wrapped over your head and around your neck, patterned in a floral paisley print. The red matched the skirt you wore. You had purposely chosen a blue blouse that day, being that you were a true believer that the clothes you wore should reflect the way you felt on the inside. You, of course, couldn’t always abide by that rule. If you were to, you’d be wearing blue all the time. You carried your mother in the hairstyle that she had sent you to the nearest hairdresser to have done. She had the appointment and style picked before you even knew you were going to Memphis.

“If you look your best you feel your best,” She had said. As if three hours in a salon would make you feel any better or different about your situation. “You’re gonna look just like Donyale Luna!”

You may have looked your best the day you arrived at your aunt's house in Memphis, but you felt nothing short of miserable.

“You’ll sleep in Chris’ old room,” Dawn mused as she led you through the single-story house. You tried to look around to take in everything you saw but there wasn’t much to look at. Nothing special caught your eye in the plain, empty house. Apart from the old choral sofa in the living room and a few dull paintings on the walls, the house was minimal. “He stays on the road fixing houses most of the year. So it’ll just be us the majority of the time.”

You tried to smile as you walked over to the twin-sized bed in the middle of the room. It creaked under the weight of your single suitcase. You surveyed the room. Similar to what you saw of the house before it was very minimal. There was a tall rosewood dresser opposite the bed and a wardrobe in the corner. Above the bed was an old, washed-out painting of a dove soaring through the cloudless sky holding an olive branch between its beak. Your eyes lingered on it as Dawn rambled on behind you. Although it would never be your home, you could make the most of it if you genuinely wanted to.

“Thank you, Aunt Dawn, it’s really nice of you to let me stay.”

“You can stay as long as you like.” Dawn smiled at you. “Go ahead and get your things put away, we’re off to work when you’re done.”

“Work?” You asked. You were no stranger to work, not by a long shot. Being the youngest of two, you had been working from a young age. When you were still a small child, your father had taken your brother with him when he left. It wasn’t much of an anomaly, just another part of your life.

You were caught off guard by Dawn’s mention of a job. A job where the two of you would work together no less.

“You didn’t think you’d show up all pretty and get out of earning your keep, did you?”

She laughed. She was quite the comedian when she wanted to be. You usually enjoyed that about her. But right now, when all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and cry, you weren’t in the mood for her jokes.

“I didn’t know, that’s all.” You forced a laugh. “Is there anything I need or~”

“Oh no, everything we need is already there,” Dawn said. “I would leave that scarf, you wouldn’t want it to get dirty.”

“I’ll take it off in the car.” You examined your outfit and wondered if it was suitable for the job. You asked Dawn just what job it was.

“Housekeeping for the Presleys.” She straightened out the collar of your blouse.

“The Presleys?” You repeated—your mind registered the name slowly. It took you all of two seconds to realize who Dawn was referring to. “Elvis Presley?”

Your expression was so shocked it looked like dread.

“You heard of ‘im?” Dawn asked, crossing her arms with a prying smile. “The girls and the women run around here like chickens with they heads cut off since he come back from the service.”

“No.” You quickly changed your answer as you registered the question. “I mean, yes. Who hasn’t?”

“His songs play every day on the radio, especially here in Memphis.” There was an edge of distaste in her tone. “I’m lucky when I can find a station playing anything else.”

“You don’t like him?”

“I like the Elvis I know. I don’t know about that person everyone makes him out to be.”

Dawn always had some elaborate explanation for everything. You could always count on her to have some sort of mystery behind her words.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t change?” You asked, but the question was futile as you were already in the car headed to Graceland. “I feel overdressed.”

“You’re fine. The Presleys don't believe in being overdressed.” Dawn laughed as she took another right onto a long curving road that led right to the front of the house. You couldn’t deny the anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach as you eyed the house through the passenger window. You felt yourself starting to regret ever coming. Before you could say anything you were already climbing out of the car.

“Ms. Dawn.” A male voice called. Your head snapped immediately in its direction but you relaxed when you saw that it wasn’t him. Instead you saw a lanky guy with wavy blonde curls, the sides gelled away from his face. “I’ll take her off your hands a while.” He held his hand out with a smile.

“Don’t get lost pulling her around back again,” Dawn said pointedly—handing over the keys to her car. “I’ll know if you did.”

“You know everything.” He went to climb into the car, his eyes stopping on you before he waved his hand in a halfhearted hello. You barely returned the wave before he was climbing into the car and driving away.

“That’s Joel, the Klatten’s boy.” Dawn led the way inside as she spoke. “He likes to pull the car around. His dad’s a mechanic so he practices under the hood from time to time to try to impress him. They own the dealership in town. You wouldn’t know it.”

You nodded your head. It was hard not to focus on the anticipation building in your gut. You weren’t exactly a fan—you or your friends never bought any of his records and you hadn’t bothered seeing any of his films. Yet, you were absolutely trembling at the thought of meeting him. At the thought of seeing him with your own two eyes.

Once inside you braced yourself for the encounter. You didn’t want to be caught off guard by his sudden appearance. It wasn’t until you saw him barreling down the stairs with two other guys hot on his trail that you realized that nothing could have prepared you for seeing him for the first time. Even as he roughhoused with the other guys and shoved them the rest of the way down the stairs you felt his presence. You couldn’t look away. Even if you wanted to, you were too struck by his beauty. You didn’t want to miss a second of his smiling face as he reached the bottom of the stairs. His eyes met your Dawn’s, he offered a smile and a polite head nod. You almost thought he was going to completely ignore your existence. You would’ve been perfectly fine if he had. But he stopped short when he saw you—sending the others crashing into him.

“Let’s go, E. It starts in half an hour, we’ll never get there in time.”

“Hold on a minute.” Elvis held his hand up, his eyes somehow still on yours. He turned and headed towards you. “Ms. Dawn, how are you?”

He spoke in a deep southern accent as he stalked over. As they exchanged pleasantries you took a moment to quickly look him over. You forced yourself not to stare, it was nearly impossible when everything about him caught your eye. Everything from the forest green sweater he wore to the way he towered over you with his hands in his pockets. Something about his stature almost looked shy, but you quickly dismissed that thought. Elvis Presley was anything but shy—you didn’t need to be a fan to know that much.

“Who might this be, Dawny?” His voice said, ripping you from your thoughts before they went haywire. You met his eyes briefly—you couldn’t hold his gaze as your aunt introduced you.

“My niece,” She said, putting her arm over your shoulder. “ She’s gonna be staying with me for a while. I figured she could help us out around here.”

Elvis agreed—his eyes shifting to you again. “Can always use an extra pair of hands I s’pose. It’s nice to meet you, honey.”

“You too.” You felt as though your body was betraying you in the way it reacted to him. The hairs on your arms stood at attention, your palms were tacky, and there was an endless shiver running down your spine. You had never experienced such a fierce and immediate attraction.

“Pretty scarf.” He nodded at the piece of material still wrapped around your head.

“I meant to take it off.” You rushed to remove the scarf. He stopped you with a wave of his hand.

“Leave it.” His lips twitched into a smile. “It compliments you.”

You let your hand fall away from the scarf–staring up at him with the overwhelming urge to cower under his eyes. Not because you were afraid, but because every second his eyes were on you it felt like you would spontaneously combust.

“Let’s go, EP.”

Elvis’ smile widened and his eyes darted across your face once more. You couldn’t tell if he was aware of what he was doing to you, or if he was simply waiting for you to thank him for his compliment.

“I-I gotta get goin. Daddy’ll get all the paperwork and stuff figured out for your niece here. It shouldn’t be an issue havin her hired.” His eyes finally left yours. He and Dawn shared a few more words that sounded muffled to your ears before he finally made his exit. “Take care, Ms. Dawn.”

“Thank you, you too, Mr. Presley.” Your aunt responded as she headed further into the house, expecting you to follow.

“It was nice meeting you, honey,” He said again. You looked over your shoulder at him briefly before scurrying after Dawn. You found her in the kitchen tying an apron around her waist.

“Look at you, sweating like a sinner in church.”.

“Stop it. I’m not.”

“Mhm. Don’t you go getting any ideas. I work here, I don’t need you messing this up for me.”

“I don’t have any ideas.”

You tied the apron that she had handed you over your skirt. She reached under your chin to unravel your scarf and deflated a bit as she placed it in your hand.

“You just stay out of trouble and keep a low profile. You’ll blend right in.”

You tied the scarf around a loop on your apron, keeping it there as you followed Dawn’s directions. You did everything she said. You stayed out of trouble and kept your head down for the day. Even when supper came around and everyone gathered in the dining area, you didn’t meet Elvis’ eyes again. Although there were a few times that you swore you felt his on you. It must’ve been all in your head.

After a few unfamiliar glances from the other residents, you seemed to blend in perfectly just as Dawn had expected. As you were leaving that night the two of you ran into Elvis again. He was leaning against one of the pillars outside—alone.

Your aunt’s words rang through your head as you avoided eye contact, nodding politely when he wished the two of you a good night.

***

“There are more dishes up there than in the kitchen.” Dawn motioned for you to follow her to the kitchen. “I’d get the two confused if I didn’t know any better.”

You hummed in acknowledgment of her words but didn’t give a verbal response. You got to work putting the dishes in the sink. There was never much conversation between you and your aunt, not like there was when you were younger. You stayed out of her way as much as you stayed out of everyone else’s. She usually left you alone when she saw that you weren’t interested in conversation, which you were grateful for.

As you were busy polishing the last of the glasses you felt another presence enter the room, not your aunt or any of the other help. Despite your brief encounter months ago, you still recognized the musk of his cologne and the click of his shoes as he walked—his feet dragging the ground with every other step. You turned in time to watch him walk across the kitchen, his eyes meeting yours before you turned away.

“Excuse me,” You muttered. You dried your hands and made your exit. Or at least you attempted to.

“Don’t mind me, doll.” Elvis stopped you. “I’m just grabbin a glass.”

You hesitantly turned back to the sink. You stood there unmoving for a moment before coming back to your senses. Your heart rate increased rapidly as you forced yourself to continue shining the glass in your hands.

He said your name suddenly. “Right?” He wondered, pulling a glass from the cupboard. His voice startled you.

You saw him coming closer and felt the urge to move away. “Can I help you, Mr. Presley?”

“Elvis.”

“Can I help you, Elvis?”

He lowered his head and chuckled shortly. He walked over and stood beside you by the sink. He smiled as he turned the faucet. “Nah, baby, you just keep doin what you’re doin.”

You turned your attention back to the dishes. You felt his eyes boring into you but you didn’t meet them. You expected him to—or at the very least hoped he would—leave the kitchen after running water into his glass. He didn’t. He leaned against the sink with one arm folded in while he drank the water—making no move to leave.

“Tell me somethin,” He propositioned. He swirled the water in the glass, twirling it around a few times before stopping—sending the liquid spinning through the glass weightlessly. “Why is it that every time you see me you get all spooked and run away?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Pres~”

“Elvis is fine.”

You turned your head in his direction. You almost mistook his insistent tone for being upset, but you saw that he wasn’t when you met his sapphire gaze. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean, Elvis.”

“You just did it.” Elvis laughed. “Dropped everything you was doin and ran for the hills.”

“I wasn’t running,” You denied. He laughed at you. You felt yourself almost become flustered by the way he tipped his head back slightly to laugh at you. There was something infectious about his laughter. Even in your flustered state, you couldn’t be upset. “I wasn’t, I’m…trying to not get in your way.”

“Why’s that?” He asked, chuckling slightly as his laughter came to an end. “You scared of me?”

“No, it’s just not my job to be in your way.” You tried to remain professional, focusing on the glasses you were putting away instead of his influx of inquiries.

“What kind of accent is that?” Elvis asked, completely ignoring your response to his question.

“Wilmington.”

“You’re from North Carolina?”

You were shocked by how much that piqued his interest. “Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” He asked, his eyebrow quirking. “I know a lot of great spots in North Carolina.”

You didn’t engage in the conversation. You reached for the top shelf of the cupboard, having to stand as high as you could on your tiptoes.

“Do you want me to~”

“No,” You said quickly, abandoning the leftover glasses on the counter. “I’ll put them away later.”

“I don’t mind,” Elvis insisted, setting his glass down and stepping forward.

“Mr. Presley, my aunt thinks it’s best if I keep my distance a-and stay out of your way,” You blurted—stepping away from him.

“Keep your distance? From me?” He asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“N-Not only from you,” You said. “From everyone.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Dawn told you to keep your head down and stay out of trouble. She wasn’t solely talking about Elvis then.

“Why she tell you that?” Elvis asked with a troubled expression. “Dawn’s like family around here.”

You shrugged your shoulders, fidgeting with the front of your apron as you avoided his eyes.

“How old are you, birdie?” He asked suddenly. Birdie—he must’ve thought you were skittish and fragile.

“Seventeen.” You answered after a moment.

“Ohh.” Elvis drawled as if he’d figured it all out. “She thinks you’re just a baby.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Oh, I can tell. But you are to her.”

You looked away, you felt the warmth of the room suddenly. “Either way…I think it’s best if I do what she tells me. So I’ll stay out of your way.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” He stepped closer—drumming his fingers along the counter.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

“If I want you out of the way I want it to be my decision. And I don’t think I do.”

You had to check if he was serious. He had a bit of a smirk on his face. His eyes flitted to where his fingers still traced the edge of the counter before settling on yours again.

“If you asked me to leave you be I’d try, of course,” He continued, moving impossibly close to you. Your breath hitched. “But I have to say, I haven’t got much practice at doin what I’m told.”

“Gotta start somewhere.” You didn’t mean it as a joke, but that didn’t stop him from releasing a deep chuckle. He reached out and took ahold of the scarf that was still tucked securely into your apron. Your mind short-circuited as you watched him finger the material. “I think I should listen to Dawn.”

He nodded, his eyes focused on the scarf as he ran his fingers over the patterned silk. You wanted to step back. You were too close. “Good girl,” He finally said. Officially knocking the wind from your lungs. For a moment you thought he was commenting on the fact that you had kept the scarf around. His next words, however, cleared that thought right up. “You should listen to your auntie.”

You didn’t take a breath until he walked away, watching dizzily as he grabbed his discarded glass and dumped the rest of the water out. He sighed heavily as he set the glass in the sink, staring down at it for a moment before turning on his heel and heading out of the kitchen.

“Don’t mind what I was sayin before.” He stopped short and faced you. “I was just messin. I don’t want you in any trouble with Dawn, she can be—y’know.”

“It’s okay.” Although he wasn’t apologizing something about his tone seemed apologetic. “Take care, Mr. Presley.”

“Thank you, honey, you too,” He said with a final smile before he was gone.

You released a tense breath and leaned against the counter. You removed your scarf from your apron with unsteady hands and stuffed it in your pocket. Pushing it down—all the way down. Along with everything you felt at that moment.

“Just push it down,” You told yourself. “Way, way down.”

***

“A live-in position?”

Your aunt had professed the news so excitedly when she first broke it. She smiled wildly and packed the house up in a hurry. She went on and on about how she would be able to save and buy a new house with the new position. Room and board and a steady paycheck weren’t things you would ever expect her to decline. Had it been offered by anyone but Elvis Presley.

“I might even save up enough to pay off the car.” Dawn beamed as she taped off another box. “You could work fewer hours, and start studying for the placement test at the school. Like we talked about before.”

You made yourself busy with helping her pack everything away. You tried to distract yourself from the thoughts that ran through your head as you got everything ready for storage. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but dread the change that was coming. You absolutely dreaded the thought of not leaving Graceland every night. You especially dreaded not having every other weekend away from the house completely. Especially now that Elvis, despite claiming that he didn’t want you in trouble with Dawn, had somehow made it a habit to coincidentally show up wherever you were in the house. Of course, you tried to write it off as all in your head, but you couldn’t make it up.

Despite this inner turmoil, you celebrated your aunt’s promotion gladly. You knew that it was something that would make a huge difference in her life and that was enough for you to push away your complaints. You had your personal things moved into one of the empty rooms of the house and from there the rest was history.

You continued with your daily chores, wrapping up around eight as usual. Instead of leaving, you enter your room on the second floor of the house. You were nervous that first night, Dawn’s room was on a completely different side of the house. You felt secluded from the only person you knew out of all the people living there. At times, you wished you could call up your mom and tell her all your worries, but you tried not to worry her with any bad news—only good. You wanted her to think you were happy here, even though you weren’t.

You gave up on sleeping after tossing and turning for a couple of hours. You got out of bed and wrapped yourself up in your coat, adjusting the scarf on your head before walking out of the room. You could hear a lot of commotion still happening around the house despite the early hour of the morning. A few people lingered downstairs, too many to pay you any mind as you slipped out the front door. You sighed at the silence you were met with. You walked a few steps, leaning against one of the pillars with your arms crossed. You were exhausted, but you knew that being in a new place would keep you up. That and the noise.

You were done fighting it.

The front door opened again as you were standing there, and you didn’t even have to turn your head to know who it would be. He didn’t say anything as he leaned against the opposite pillar, crossing his arms in a similar manner.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?” You asked after he didn’t break the silence himself—he usually did.

“Nah, I saw you slip out.” He shifted towards you. “The noise keepin you awake?”

“A little,” You answered honestly. “I’m not a huge fan of new places either.”

“New places?” Elvis asked incredulously, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve been workin here for months.”

“It’s different now.” You found his eyes already watching you—they usually were. “I can’t get away from you as easily now that I live here.”

“Maybe you’d find out that I’m not so bad if you stuck around for more than a minute.” He seemed to be enjoying the light conversation. You figured it was because he wasn’t used to you saying more than a few words to him at a time.

“Everywhere I go, somehow, you’re right there,” You said. Maybe it was because you were delirious and sleep-deprived, but you found yourself not caring what your aunt might think as you bantered with Elvis. “Why is that?”

“I like watching you,” He admitted. “I’m tryna figure you out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at that—hiding the smile on your face. When you lifted your head you were met with an astonished smile.

“She laughs,” Elvis stated as if it was an anomaly that he wasn’t yet aware of.

“What?” You asked, though you heard his words clearly in the dead of the night.

“I’ve been watching and you hardly ever smile, you never laugh,” He stated, tilting his head. “I was starting to think you didn’t have it in you.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, you knew you couldn’t respond with the truth. You were already pushing the boundary you had so vehemently tried to uphold by carrying on with this conversation. You couldn’t possibly wreck everything by actually opening up to him about your mom and the move to Memphis that you still were acclimating to.

“A little girl like you should be laughing all the time.” He continued after your silence.

“I’m not a little girl,” You said after another beat of silence. “And what do you expect me to do? Laugh while I dust your end tables?”

“Aw, birdie, don’t get cross now,” He chuckled. There that nickname was again—birdie. “I just wanna know what goes on inside that pretty head of yours.”

“Nothing that concerns you.” Your walls came back up as quickly as you had let them down.

“I see you goin outta your way to take care of everyone and to make everyone comfortable,” He started again, you weren’t sure if the man had ever tried to catch a hint in his life. “Who’s takin care of you?”

“You’re being inappropriate.”

“You haven’t told me to go away.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, you hardly had any patience so it didn’t take much to wear it thin. “I’m starting to wonder what goes on inside your head, y’know?”

“I’ll tell you anything you wanna know.” He suddenly decided to move towards you.

“Really?” You asked, your tone mildly sarcastic. “Okay then, what do you think your friends inside would have to say if they saw you talking to me right now.”

“I don’t think they’d have anything to say,” He responded. “We’re not doing anything wrong here.”

“I don’t think you believe that.” You had to fight the urge to back away from him as he stepped closer.

“You think I give a shit about what they think?” Elvis asked, his cool eyes hardening under the dim lights outside. “Really?”

“I do,” You said matter-of-factly. It seemed like the air thinned with every step he took, and your legs became more unsteady beneath you. “Or at least I think you should.”

“I don’t care and I’m not gonna start.” He stood close enough now to place his hand beside your head on the pillar you were leaning against. He leaned down to meet your eyes. “Is that why you’re so nervous all the time? Because you’re afraid of what they think of you?”

“They don’t think of me, Elvis, that’s my point.” Your voice was hardly steady as you forced yourself to keep still. “The only time people like that, or people like you, think of someone like me is when a chore is left undone. Or when you make a mess and you need someone to clean it up. That’s why I don’t understand what you want with me.”

He spoke your name and you were genuinely shocked. He had rarely called you anything outside of ‘honey‘ or ‘birdie’ in the months that you knew him—you thought he’d forgotten it. You stiffened when you felt his cool fingers gently slip under your chin but you let him lift your head to meet his eyes. “W-When I think of you…baby, that’s not what I’m thinkin about. When I look at you that’s not all I see. I can’t help that I’m drawn to you—that I want you. I want to know who you are, I want to know what you think, and how you feel. Since I first laid eyes on you, you've been on my mind~ b-but not for any of those reasons.”

You were too overwhelmed. He was too close. His words sent the blood rushing from your head. There were tears in your eyes but you didn’t feel like crying, too much was happening all at once and you weren’t exactly sure how you got here when the two of you were joking a second ago. You stumbled away from him, trying to make a break for the door but failing as he steadied you with his hands on your waist.

“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” He said. He kept his hands around you until he was sure you wouldn’t sink to the ground. “I-I’m sorry, I-I-I shouldn’t’ve…I don’t know.”

You closed your eyes in an attempt to force away your tears, you were having a hard time processing his words. You didn’t understand where all his feelings were coming from or why he was feeling them at all. “It’s a lot…”

“I know,” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as if he was suddenly embarrassed after his spiel. “I just don’t want you thinking I see you any differently because you’re…”

“You can’t even say it?” You heaved incredulously.

“N-No, I’m t-trying not to say the wrong thing. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, birdie, that’s it, honest.” His leg started to shake restlessly. “Ask anybody who knows me, I-I believe that we’re all created equal. A-And if I cut you right now I know we’d bleed the same~”

“Oh please, Elvis, you don’t have to preach to me~”

“Then stop tryin so goddamn hard to make me out to be something I’m not.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“That’s what it feels like.”

You watched him kick at the ground with his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks. “I don’t think you’re one of them. I just think you know too many of them to ever truly be my friend.”

“What they think shouldn’t reflect who I am,” He said without looking up from his shoes, his voice low. “If I could weed out every goddamn racist I knew or worked for I would, but I’d be left high and dry.”

You fell silent, each of you staring off in thought for what felt like forever before he finally spoke again.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, honey,” He said, turning his back to you. “Go on back in the house.”

“Now you’re telling me to go away?” You teased in an attempt to lessen the tension in the air before you went inside. You felt like you did something to upset him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the conversation that way. “I thought that was my job.”

He looked over his shoulder at you. His features softened when he saw the small smile playing on your lips. “And I thought you were a good girl who did what she was told,” He said. “I guess we were both wrong.”

You shrugged, walking back to your respective pillar and leaning against it. You leaned your head against the post.

“I meant everything I said before, y’know?"

"...I believe you."

***

#elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x black reader #elvis imagine #interracial love #black reader #elvis fluff #austin butler #the bikeriders #austin!elvis x reader #austin elvis imagine #elvis smut #elvis presely smut

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bmbochangetales · 2 years

Text

Orgasms just hit better when your dumb.

It was one line and yet it bothered her. It couldn’t be true. She enjoyed her orgasms and she was highly intelligent. She had to test the theory. But how? It had to be measured in a way that she could tell the difference. She had to make herself dumber so she could feel which orgasm was better. How to make her self dumber though?

She rushed in and ask her male co workers.

“Not showing off her degrees. Smart girls want to prove they are smart. They hang them like art work. Have some sexy pictures or some basic mass produced artwork ”

Down all her hard work came off the wall. Up went something from the local store. The night she hit a new high in orgasming. This has to be a fluke, so she asked again the next day.

“Lots of make up and bleached hair.” One commented well checking the stocks. “They always turn out to be ditzy, even if they try to come off as intelligent and well educated. You do that to you hair, you definitely aren’t the smartest and add a lot of make up, you spend a lot of time just fixing yourself up, that’s not time to study.”

She booked an appointment at a salon for that evening. Well her hair was done she watched make up tutorials learning how to emphasize her features. Seeing herself with her new blonde hair even she thought she looked a bit more empty headed. Very cute but maybe not all there. She tested her skills at the make up when she got home. Sultry and it took a while to do, it was nearly bed time, she’d have no time to read. But she had time for two orgasms. It was only because the first one was so fast. It was just so good that she had to do it again just to make sure.

“Just by looking at a girl, what makes you think she is dumb?”

“I mean I know people will yell at me, but when she has for a huge set of boobs, especially if she is showing them off, she is probably not the brightest bulb in the house. It’s hot anyways”

Vacation boobs. A few injections and she would have a temporary set to help her experiment. She would get rid of them later. She walked out of the doctor’s office with a new huge rack on display. She loved the stares she got. She had spent 3 hours getting ready this morning with an extra 30 minutes to masturbate before she left. Now she was ready to see if sex with a partner was better. She called her favorite FWB. He commented on her new look

“I’m trying to look dumb for an experiment, what makes a girl look dumb?”

“Girls who look in the mirror a lot and watch reality tv. They look so dumb.” He added as you went down to start round two wanting another great orgasm.

Three days of having these tits and fucking a ton of guys. She had been watching only reality tv and was having trouble spelling. She began dressing like the girls on TV. Her boss threatened to denote her if her work didn’t improve. But the orgasms were just so good. They kept getting better. There was something here, she knew it.

She was staring at herself in the mirror. Big but not big enough. She wanted them to be huge. Bigger is so better when it comes to tits. Just 3 or 4 more cup sizes. She’d look so dumb then. She scanned her body down. Maybe she needed some other improvements.

Like this ass needs some nice high shoes to make it even better. She quickly went to the nearest shoe store and purchased several pairs making sure to get all the highest heels to emphasize her body.

Oh yea, like the expiri…expuri…like that idea thingy test. That like means it’s totally time to get fucked! Fucking is like sooo much fun! She had to find some partners. She strut into the nearest club and found a couple who were interested in going home with her.

The red head under her and the body builder with his cock deep in her cunt fucking her from behind. Oh yeah this was the life. Being sexy and just finding partners to fuck. Lapping up the beautiful girls cunt as she came on her tongue over and over. Having a cock ducking her deep and filling her with the best cum. Now that her IQ was down even more, this orgasm would be earth shattering. Maybe she could still get dumber yet.

#my writing #my story #dumbification #bimboification #dumbing down

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jarofstyles · 2 years

Text

Cozy

Hello… we’ve got mountainrry author and hairdresser y/n here 🍂 I hope you enjoy!

They’re sweet babes.

Check out our Patreon!

WC: around 3k

WC/ around 3k

I hope you enjoy. I will do a part 2 if you’d like 🔮

—-

If there was one word she would use to to describe Harry, it was Cozy.

Y/N had never met someone who was so… soft. So warm in her life. He radiated the heat and comfort that a fireplace did on a snowy winters day. It made a lot of sense, considering where they lived.

Harry thought better in the woods. Being a writer, it was easier to keep his mind at ease when he was mostly alone. He had tried a plethora of places to try and write. Coffee shops worked out alright at first but the smell of coffee was too tempting and it messed with his stomach. The park was beautiful but one too many footballs to the head made him rethink it. It was a step in the right direction, though. Nature seemed to soothe his racing mind and have him be able to focus on the words he was writing versus the thoughts swirling around his head.

It had been trial and terror but somehow, he had managed to write his first number one best seller when he spent a month in a cabin in a mountain town. The inspiration never seemed to dry up, and it prompted him to take the generous earnings he made from the freelance writing he did on the side to buy his own cabin, not too far away.

It was this beautiful town he was eternally grateful for. It’s his oasis, his home, and where he met his lover.

Y/N had been a beautiful surprise packaged in a hairdressing apron. He had let his locks get overgrown being holed up while he wrote. It was to the point that his mother told him she would fly out to take scissors to his head if he didn’t go and get it done as soon as he could, which resulted in Harry taking his cell phone and searching the nearest salon.

It landed upon Sweet Thang. A smaller, up and coming salon in the little ski town he now resided in. The reviews looked fantastic, his mop needed a trim desperately, and it was only 10 minutes down the mountain. So he hopped in his truck and got down to thee town, finding a space on the street and headed into the salon, only to get the surprise of his life.

Y/N was immediately someone who he wanted. He was blown away with just how soothing her voice was, how she had managed to knock him out of his quiet, reserved space he usually got into when writing and made him want to talk. Which he did. Harry chatted and laughed with the pretty hairdresser with magic hands and the ability to relax him with her voice and a simple head massage. He had never clicked with someone so quickly in his life, which led to him asking her on a date after the best haircut of his life.

A year later, he was deeply in love, moved to the same little town they met and writing his 3rd best seller (fingers crossed) while he waited for her to come back home. Sitting in their dining room, his laptop sat on the oak table while the snow fell on the growing blanket, inches piling up soon. The man had woken up after she left with a kiss to his forehead and decided to work in their brightly lit common area today, needing the slight change of scenery. He moved about the house depending on the mood of the scenes he was writing.

His ears perked up as he heard the garage door mechanics pulling up, alerted to the fact his soon to be wife was now home. They’d moved fast, sure, but Harry didn’t have a single doubt. Their first date, he knew she would be his. Of course it was probably a bit of the romantic in him, he was a fucking writer after all, but he adored her. Worshipped the ground the woman walked on. He stood from the chair, stretching his back and winching at the cracks before making his way to the kettle. Every day she went to work, he made sure to have the kettle going when she arrived home from work. Her post day ritual of her herbal teas was adopted by him, taking down two mugs as his body giddily waited for her to walk inside.

“Honey, I’m hoooome.”

The sweet voice brought a grin to his face, leaning his ass against the counter as he watched her plop her snowy boots on the weather tray and hang her tote bag on the hooks harry had installed after he had tripped on her totes one too many times. Considering he stayed home most of the time, he was usually the one to work on the house. She was on her feet all day anyways.

“There y’are, mt gorgeous girl.” His voice traveled to her as her socked feet padded over to his tall frame. Immediately, she sank into his warm embrace, snuggling into the soft sweater he had put on to keep the chill out. He always chose the coziest things, but especially because of this moment. The time of day she would come home in the winter and seek out his heat, his comfort. A soft hiss left his teeth as he stroked her cold hair, pulling her closer as he kissed the top of her head.

“Freezing’ out there, isn’t it? Even just putting stuff away in the garage got you all frosty.” He sighed, not liking her being cold at all. Harry kept the fire stoked all day, taking breaks for his own brain to feed the fire and mess around so the house was toasty for his love to come home to. He had never felt such a compulsion to take care of someone before Y/N. Now it was a pleasure, second nature.

“Mhm. But I knew you’d have it feeling good at home.” She got on her toe, giving a peck to his lips before burying her face into his neck. Her cold nose made him wince but he didn’t pull away, instead enjoyed how she rubbed it back and forth on the heated skin, Y/N knew how creepy it sounded but she never felt close enough. Part of her wanted to crawl under his sweater and simply listen to his heart and feel his hands run up and dow her back for the rest of time.

“Made sure the fire was on all day. I’ll have to chop some wood tomorrow, though. Tea water is on for now,, wasn’t sure if you’d want jasmine, chamomile or mint.” She usually switched between the three while harry settled with his standard.

“Thank you, my angel.” Y/N sighed against his neck, kissing delicately over the vein there. “I can see you’re writing the softer stuff today.”

Harry had a series of predictable patterns. If he was writing lighter, softer things, it was in the brightly lit dinging room, open to the living room. Intimate scenes he wrote at the desk of their bedroom. More intense, dramatic scenes would be written in his home office. There was a space for everything. Outdoors in the summmer would be a wild card, though.

“Mhm. More world building. Dynamics forming. You know the same old.” He sighed, inhaling a deeper breath as she let her weight sag into him. He stroked over her back, going under her cardigan to the thin black tee shirt she had underneath. Y/N smelled like shampoo, the green apple and mint kind. It was his favorite thing, he thinks. “Made some muffins this morning for breakfast. And I’ve got pizza cooking in the oven now. Made the one with the peppers for me and your specialty one for you.” It had been a later day at ther salon as the holidays approached, and Harry tried not to complain. She had the whole week off starting now, and he knew her hands could use it.

“How’s your wrist?” Her wrist had been giving her some trouble lately with how much she moved them, Harry suspected some carpal tunnel. He knew all too well about it considering he had his bouts with it and typing. “Wear your brace today?”

A black bandage covered wrist escaped from behind him, raising up to show his eyes before going back behind him to cling to his solid form. “Yeah. Bothered me when I was using the scissors most but the brace helped. Don’t say I told you so.” She pepped, hiding her face in his shirt because yes. Harry had in fact told her so when she had been skeptical.

“I would never.” He smirked though, and she could feel it against the top of her head. “M’just glad it made it hurt less. Don’t like my girl in any pain. I remember how badly it can hurt. Remember? That’s why you showed me the wrist elevating mouse pad. Worked wonders for me. No shame. You’re working hard, but that’s why you’re getting your break now, hm?” He gently peeled her back so he could look at her face, polished fingers cupping her warming face. His glasses were on, a favorite yummy look of hers on him, stubble growing on his jaw. Harry looked delicious, if she did say so herself.

“Yeah.” She sighed, moving her hands to rest on his shoulders. “And that means you’ve got to take more breaks during the day to give me attention.” She blinked at him a few times, utterly serious. Harry could get into the zone and forget the house was bringing around him, so she wanted him to be aware.

“Of course. My favorite little distraction will be walking about. Probably in my sweaters because on top of being distracting, she’s a silly little thief.” He squeezed her cheeks together to make her lips pout, kissing them sweetly as she humphed in protest. “Plus, think I need a trim myself. So I hope you’re well versed in using kitchen scissors to cut-“

“Do not finish that sentence.” She placed a hand on his mouth. Her faux snarl melted when he kissed the palm over his lips, letting it move to scratch the stubble. “I like this. Keep it for a bit, for me. At least this week.” She felt it under her fingertips, moving back and forth on the texture of the hair on his chin and jaw. It was a personal favorite of hers, when he let it grow out just for her.

“Hmm. I can.” He smiled lazily, leaning his cheek into her touch. “But then I don’t want you complaining about carpet burn down there. Know your thighs are extra sensitive to it. I plan to spend all my free time there.” There was that mischievous glint in his eyes, but for once she was looking forward to said shenanigans. When they surrounded her pleasure, she truly couldn’t complain.

“Oh? Is that the type of week we’re having?” Manicured nails gripped his soft sweater, kicking a leg up behind her as she batted her lashes. Y/N looked ridiculous but he loved her, so he just laughed, pinching her hip lightly to make her cut it out. The little yelp was cut off with his mouth, successfully quieting her with a sweet kiss. Slightly obnoxious when he made a ‘mmmmm’ sound against them, making her want to giggle but refusing to pull away.

When she found an escape, a gasp was exaggerated at the extended kiss. “You tried to suffocate me!” The accusation held no weight, flopping right back on to his chest. Harry’s cheeks were slightly sore from the size of his smile. Moments like this, the domestic and cute were things he often dreamt about. Now he had his forever muse. The sole inspiration behind half of the feelings of love and yearning in his writing.

“I would apologize….” He trailed off, sneakily grabbing under her thighs and picking her up to set her ass on the counter. “But I am not sorry.”

The beep of the oven cut her off, Harry leaving her sitting on the island while she kicked her feet in protest.

It was something else. Watching his hand slip into the checkered oven mitt, sliding the pizza pans out of the over one by one and setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was incredible and her mouth was already watering, thinking about how good it had been last time. Harry was an incredible cook, especially with his spin offs to Pinterest recipes.

Watching him bop about the kitchen was somewhat arousing, too. Seeing his broad back as he picked things up, set them down, cut into things. Watching him pop a finger into his mouth to ‘clean it off’. The concentrated look on his face and the purse of his lips when he tried to get exact measurements. Y/N mourned the loss of that experience today. Damn work.

“Sexy little househusband.” She cooed, peeling her cardigan off and tossing it onto the nearby stool. He loved sitting her on the counter instead, and every time she tried fo ask why he would shush her. So rather than fight it, she accepted the inevitable. “Making me food when I get home, cleaning the house. It does things to a woman, y’know.” Twirling a strand of hair around her finger, she made a show of looking him up and down- because god damn, those pants did him some real service- and she giggled at the raised brow he gave her while he put the overhead fan on.

“Oh? You are something else.” He sighed, returning to her open thighs. His hand settled on her hip while the other grazed her cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the opposite. “I’ll gladly be your sexy little househusband. As long as you let me write my books that sell millions of copies and sit in my chair while you do the head massage thing…”

He was so cute. Y/N had learned early on that her cause of death would probably be him.’ Harry being too cute’ plastered on her headstone. It was a nice way to go out, she thinks.

“Oh, you’re good.” She mumbled, taking each side of his face in her palms and squeezed a little to make his lips push out, kissing the wet pout. “Too good. I’m gonna give you such good head tonight. Mind blowing. Show stopping. Ridiculous. Pizza and being cute. Too much for me to handle.”

This made Harry perk up. Immediately. Of course it would- but he was particularly fond of her mouth. The things it could do and the words that came out of it. It was a never ending stream of love that flowed from him right to her, and it always felt matched. Reciprocated.

“There will not be a single complaint from me.” He said, slightly slurred because she had his lips squished with her hands on his cheeks. “Sounds good. Perfect? Actually. Let me block out my calendar. Next chapter can wait. Please.” He leaned forward and caught her lips again, the hands on her lover's cheeks loosening as he tugged her body to be flush against his. Indulging in a dirtier kiss, a hand straying to his hair and brushing it out of his face while he slipped under her tee shirt to feel the hot skin of her back again. Harry swore he would never get enough of this. Even in its simplicity, it was the most beautiful feeling in the world.

“Dork.” The word was mumbled against his lips, the buzzing feeling in the now slightly swollen flesh making her smile. “That was too sexy of a kiss. I need to eat some pizza and take a shower before any sort of intimacy happens. I smell like developer and shampoo.” She pushed his chest a little, making him sulk. Harry didn’t care either way, but he wanted her comfortable. Plus, in his mind, that meant she was going to put on sexy panties. Or none. He would love that.

“Fine. I need you fed and energized. The week break is going to be a lot of fun for us… so I need to make sure your in tip top shape. Especially if you’re going to be living with me inside of you. My beautiful girl…” he sighed, eyes taking in her face again. “Got spoiled rotten with you. Didn’t I?” The switch between dirty and sweet could give anyone else whiplash, but Y/N simply grinned.

“You did indeed. Now feed me and let me shower, househusband. Let me start this week off with a bang.” The woman didn’t even need to look up to know his mouth was open to retort something filthy. “And you should keep that mouth quiet if you want it to happen.”

Y/N didn’t hear a peep as she plated the pizza, smirking to herself all the while she heard the snap and crackle of a new record being put on.

She was home.

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #Harry styles fic #Harry styles au #harry styles writing #Harry blurb #Harry one shot #Harry fic #Harry fanfic

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pure-ablution · 8 days

Note

How do you find the small beauty providers and clinics you mention? Like the ones that work out of their basements

I ask people who I think might know. Most of my favourite beauticians and salons in my university’s town have come from word-of-mouth recommendations from older international students, and I’ve occasionally sent very polite messages friends-of-friends to ask for recommendations out of town.

If that doesn’t yield anything, then I turn to expat pages. I’ve listed my most-used pages for the UK here, but in reality, I’ve looked at hundreds of different pages and forums in dozens of different languages for so many different cities. Most small, independent expat beauticians advertise through private groups and forums for a primarily expat clientele, rather than using traditional marketing tactics.

If there’s still nothing, then I research a little more deeply. Figure out which nationality (broadly) you are looking at for your treatment, find the nearest high demographic area to you, and start sleuthing. Instagram is going to be your best friend here, so make use of location tags, hashtags (e.g. #BristolNails or #SpaManchester), and the ‘suggested’ section on each account to compile potential beauty providers.

Make a list of all your options and carefully examine their portfolio of work, prices, protocols, and policies before you make your decision. Look at the details and techniques used, the products featured, and how they deal with things like sanitation. I’d also recommend politely messaging the accounts if you have any questions, being sure to use their language if their posts aren’t in English.

I’ve almost never had an issue with following this method—once I did find myself needing a manicure in a very rural and secluded area of the UK, and struggled up until I found a girl’s Instagram post from 3 years ago being used on a Polish lifestyle blog, with the account location being that specific region of the UK. That was really the only time I had to spend hours and hours searching! 99% of the time I can find who and what I need pretty quickly. I have a detailed spreadsheet of beauty providers in lots of different cities, some which I’ve actually never visited before, because I like to know that I’ve done my research in advance and I’m not going to end up panicking at the last minute and going for an option I’d regret.

#ask-beauty #beauty #how-to

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sorinzcool · 1 year

Text

*★,°*:.☆(￣▽￣)/$:*.°★* 。

🔥Sanji x Reader 🏵️

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x f!reader

Tags: F/N used, hairstyle mentioned, long hair implied

Characters Mentioned: Vinsmoke Sanji, Roronoa Zoro, Nami, Monkey D. Luffy, Boa Hancock (mentioned)

Warnings: cigarettes mentioned, light swearing, first kiss

Word Count: 3704

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★⋆˙⟡♡

Notes:

**FLUFF !!!**

self insert is fem/fem implied !!!

modern au !!!

listen to the songs mentioned while reading for the best experience!

Summary: You walk into a salon and get a haircut that was created by the salon master Vinsmoke Sanji. A couple weeks later, you meet him and his friends again by coincidence at the mall. You spend time with Sanji and his friends at the mall and get to know them a bit better. Months later, you're invited to a party by Nami and you accept, going to the slumber party where later in the night, Sanji confesses to you and you share a tender kiss.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★⋆˙⟡♡

It’s bright outside, the sun beating hot and your car’s air conditioning blowing quietly on your face as you sit in your car in silence with your own thoughts. You’re slightly annoyed as you keep sticking to your seat, the loud cicada’s chirping buzzing in your ears in contrast to the low volume of one of your favorite songs that came from your car speakers.

You open your phone and go into your social media, deciding to look at yourself in the camera and maybe goof off with some of the provided filters. You do so, realizing that your hair is becoming long, hair to maintain in the heat, and kind of unruly. The previous color you had in your hair is now faded and your roots are showing through.

You scrunch your lip at the camera and mess with your hair a little bit, realizing that you should probably go get a haircut. You switch tabs and look up the nearest hair salon near your location. You go through some salon options, reading reviews and the like before a specific location catches your eye. The name of the place was called “Piratella Hair Studio”.

After reading most of the reviews, you decide that this is the place that you’re going to decide to go to. Wanting to find out a bit more about the place, you dial the phone number. You wait a while as the ringback tone sounds in your ear.

After a while of waiting, a burly, stretched out, Brooklyn accent female voice comes to the line. “Hello, Piratella Hair Studio, how can we help’ya today?” The lady was chewing gum pretty audibly, but you got by it.

“Good afternoon, um, I was wondering if you guys take walk-ins?” You asked nervously, almost like you were hiding behind the phone.

“Oh yea hunny, we take walk-ins. Just c’mon down to’tha salon and we’ll take care of’ya.” The voice replied, the same gum-smacking coming through the other end of the line.

“Alright, I’ll be there, thank you ma’am!” You said, hurriedly hanging up the phone and sighing, rubbing your temples. I guess that gum she was eating was a bit more annoying than you originally thought. You slung your seatbelt around your chest and clicked it into the buckle, turning the key in the ignition and driving off, having the location put into your GPS.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★⋆˙⟡♡

You arrive at the hair salon, unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing your personal belongings. You exit your vehicle, making sure you lock it before entering the salon. When you step foot in the doorway, your nose is bombarded by various smells: stingy, lemony hairspray, nose-torching, acidic hair bleach, shrouding, tear-jerking cigarette smoke… all of it wafting into your nose all at once, forcing a cough out of you. “Beauty and a Beat” by Justin Beiber and Nicki Minaj played faintly as a sort of “ambience”.

The same Brooklyn voice then called out to you. “Hi hunny, take a seat, sorry ‘bout the smell, you’ll get used’ta it. Just take a seat there on that chair and one of our stylists will gett’ya.” Looking the lady up and down, she was no different than how you imagined her in your head. Already standoffish about this salon, you hesitantly sat down in the seat closest to the doorway just in case you needed a breath of fresh air. Were the replies and reviews lying to you? Was this place actually terrible compared to a different place you could have gone? You were already there, though. No going back now, right?

After a while of wafting smoke and other fumes away from your face, a smooth, French voice called out to you. “Madame, come up here, it’s your turn.” You look up to see a blond haired man with swirly eyebrows. Kind of weird, right? A cigarette was bobbing in between his lips as he spoke. So that’s where all the smoke was coming from… You hurriedly stood up from the ripped leather chair and shuffled over to a surprisingly comfortable chair.

“Hello m’lady, my name is Sanji and I am your hairstylist for today. My, my, you’ve got quite a hefty amount of hair here, gorgeous hair at that.” He said. You felt flattered as he commented on your hair but you brushed it off as mere talk.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Sanji. My name is F/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, F/N. Now, what can we do for you today here at Piratella Hair Studio?” He asked, running his fingers through your hair. You shudder a bit as he examines your hair and scalp, feeling his slightly soft fingertips graze your scalp. You think for a moment before opening your mouth to speak.

“I’m not too sure what I want, but something that I do know is that I definitely want it cut a bit shorter than this not only for maintenance purposes but also because of the summer heat.”

Sanji takes a puff of his cigarette, the smoke circling around you two. You waft it away from your face, closing your teary eyes. “Sorry about that F/N, eh, I tend to just have a bit of a smoke when I work. I hope you don’t mind it.” Something was seriously wrong with this salon… well, the rest of it.

Looking at your surroundings, you notice that only the section that you and Sanji were standing and sitting in were extremely different from the rest. The chair was a lot more luxurious, the lights weren’t shattered, the mirror wasn’t cracked top to bottom, the floor was vibrant and clean… It was like a whole different establishment.

“I guess I can tolerate it for now…” You mutter under your breath as you sit awkwardly in the chair. Sanji then nods his head before speaking to you while looking at the mirror.

“I’m thinking we can take your hair up to shoulder length, maybe shorter? Short hairstyles are eh, comment dis-tu cela en anglais...? Ehm, easy to keep, yeah?” He asked, pursing his lips a bit.

“I guess so, yeah. And I don’t want any color, I think I might just keep my natural hair color for now…” You instructed. Since your last dye-job was from when your hair was neck-length, all the color was at the bottom now. “You can cut it off, right? The color at the bottom, I mean.”

Sanji nodded slightly. “Definitely. Alright, with that all set, are you ready for me to snip snip?” He chuckled, smoke exiting the sides of his mouth from the cigarette. You nod your head slowly as Sanji picks up the first lock of your hair…

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★⋆˙⟡♡

Your eyes widen slightly as you finally watch your hair all come together, a style you never thought you could pull off. Running your fingers through your hair slightly, a smile tugs the corners of your lips. You fix your bangs to how you like them, still looking at yourself directly into the mirror.

“Well, madam, do you like it? This hairstyle makes you look really cute, you know.” Sanji asked, taking the apron off of you and flapping it out, all the loose hair on it flying off. You nod your head enthusiastically, your face slightly reddening as you were flattered once again. “I love it! I never thought I would be able to pull off something like this!” You cheered slightly.

Sanji looks at you with a grin. “Viola, mademoiselle, your hair. It is of my greatest gratitude that you love your new hair.” You look at the cost chart next to Sanji’s station, it’s all relatively cheap. You owed $15, but you paid him $25 for the amazing and quick service.

“Is there a way I can contact you again? Like a business card or something?” You asked the blond man in front of you. He hands you a business card that has a marble background and gold lettering. It had a picture of Sanji, his full name, the address of where he works, his job’s phone number and his personal phone number.

“Don’t be afraid to call me, gorgeous.” He said, giving you a pretty wink.

You nodded your head and waved goodbye, walking out of the establishment and hurriedly getting to your car to combat the summer heat and prevent your hair from frizzing. Once you got in your car, you opened up your phone again, the same app from earlier. You liked how your hair looked now, all thanks to that… Strangely flirtatious man.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★⋆˙⟡♡

It’s a new day and you’re at the mall, by yourself. You wanted to go shopping and you did end up buying a couple things but you wanted to shop in a couple more stores before you left. Wanting to take a break from walking all this time, you took a seat on one of the sofas in the center of the plaza. Since you had nothing better to do, you open up your phone and scroll through social media.

There wasn’t much to look at anyways. It was kind of a boring, no-post day. What made it worse is that your headphones died, so now you have to listen to the cheap, low-quality audio that the mall had. “Vampire” by Olivia Rodrigo was playing, echoing throughout the entire place, muddled with the loud voices inside the mall. You look up from your device and notice someone familiar.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it since the person you were looking at looked familiar but… like a stranger at the same time. Blond hair, average figure, pretty tones, swirly eyebrows… swirly eyebrows? That’s who it was! Sanji, the hairstylist who cut your hair the other day. And it seems he noticed you too. He waved to you from halfway across the plaza and you decided to wave back. You snickered to yourself a bit as you watched his friend nudge him.

“Hey Fancy Brows, are you trying to make another lady swoon for ya? You always end up falling.” The one next to him said. Sanji looked a bit irritated, but in a playful demeanor. “Won’t matter though, they always fall for the ones that are taller. And I am taller than you.”

“By one centimeter, Mosshead. One fucking centime-”

“Will you two stop fighting for once?! You have the lovely girl waiting, she looks super sweet and is probably waiting for you guys (plus me!) to go over there and say hi or whatever! Get your heads out of your asses and go!” The redheaded girl said, shoving the two apart. As much as it looked like Sanji and this “Mosshead” person wanted to ignore her, she was right, and they obliged, the three of them walking towards you.

“Hello mademoiselle, you’re the lady I gave a hair trim to two weeks ago, right?” Sanji asked you, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah, that’s me! Sanji was your name, right?” Sanji smiled and nodded. “Sanji it is indeed, madam. And yours was, eh… F/N, yes?” He asked you.

Nodding your head, you smiled. “Mhm! I see you have some friends here, mind if I ask who you two are?”

The redheaded one looked at the green-haired one. “Well, I’m Nami. I’m Sanji’s girl best friend! You looked super sweet so I decided to force these two numbskulls to get their shit together and say hi to you. Aren’t I a great friend?” Nami giggled. You swallowed a lump in your throat, smiling nervously. “...Yeah! Perfect friend!”

You turned your gaze to the green haired one. “My name is-”

“His name doesn’t matter, he’s a dummy and spews shit out hi-”

The green haired one slapped his hand over Sanji’s mouth, holding it there. “The name’s Zoro. Ignore what Swirly Brows says. He’s also an idiot.” Zoro rolled his eyes, Sanji looking at him upset.

“Well, my name is F/N, and I was Sanji’s client a couple weeks back. He did a really good job on my hair, I’m super happy with it. It’s been super easy to take care of recently and I’m glad it’s not as hard to tend to.” You said, standing up and shaking everyone’s hand.

“Oh, I forgot about the other one. You see that one over there?” Sanji said, pointing towards a black-haired young man with a straw hat loosely fitted around his head. “His name is Luffy. We don’t take him out much, but today was nice so we decided to… let him run free. He’s kind of in his own world now, you can talk to him later.” You giggle, watching the young man continuously drop quarters into a claw machine, shaking the game every time the crane drops the stuffed animal.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you all, I’m sure we’ll all be great friends, yeah?” You said, smiling at the three who stood before you. “Yeah, definitely! Oh, Sanji, can they come to our party? Pleeeaasseee? I mean, five is better than four, right, Sanji? Please Sanji? Please?” Nami said, shaking the sophisticated man, grunting as she slowly began putting force into her movements.

“Okay, okay! Fine, they can come!! Just stop rattling my brain!” He yelped, running his hand across his face as he recovered from the shock of being violently thrashed by Nami. “Geez…”

“Yay! I’m so excited. Here, give me your phone number, and I’ll send you Sanji’s address. We're having a slumber movie and watching horror movies! I mean, the party’s not for another few weeks, but it’s good to prepare early, right?” Nami spoke quickly, ripping her phone out of her purse and opening her contacts, handing her bedazzled phone to you so you can type in your number.

“...Sure. You’re quite quick to invite me, don’t you think?” You said, a bit reluctant to put your number in just yet. You look at Sanji, then at Zoro, and finally at Nami. “I mean… ee-yeah, BUT I mean who wouldn’t want to go to a super cool SLUMBER party? And especially since you’re friends with Sanji I know you’re a good person!”

“Friends with Sanji? I mean, he cut my hair once… that’s pretty much it…” You said, rubbing the back of your neck. You swallowed another lump in your throat, this was a lot, all at once too. Sanji noticed you were visibly getting uncomfortable, so he stepped in.

“Alright Nami, let’s lay off for a minute, eh, mademoiselle, how about you come spend the rest of your time here at the mall with the four of us, we can all get to know each other better, yes?” The blond one asked you. I mean, you already knew Sanji, it wouldn’t be bad just to spend some more time with him and his friends… if it weren’t for the invitation being right off-the-bat, you would’ve accepted going to the party… other than that, you have no other reason to really decline at least this offer.

“Sure. I’ll come hang out with you guys for a little bit… I don’t see why not.” Nami looked excited, now beginning to thrash Zoro around. “Yay!! They accepted!! Aren’t you excited, Zoro?” Nami said, looking the man in the eyes.

Zoro looked dizzy.

Sanji ushered everyone to follow, everyone reluctantly doing so. Luffy, a bit behind than the rest of the group, noticed that everyone was leaving so he began to dash and skidaddle over to the group. "Whooaahh! Wait for me Sanjiiiii!!!"

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★⋆˙⟡♡

That day, you spent about an hour and a half hanging out with Sanji and the rest of his friends, having a good time nonetheless. You began to grow more comfortable around them, especially Nami due to her sweet and hype personality. You did notice though, that Sanji was complimenting you a lot. It flattered you.

You felt like your heart was jumping rope in your chest every time Sanji complimented you, not even just that day you hung out with him but at other points in time as well. When you, Nami and Sanji hung out at the public pool, when you and Sanji went to a cafe, when you, Sanji and Zoro went to a park… throughout the entire hang out, he was complimenting you.

It… didn’t bother you, for some reason. You were starting to like his compliments more and more, they made you feel… special, a lot different from the other compliments you’ve received in the past from other people alike. How were you already getting woozy and warm inside just because of a-

Your train of thought stops because you got a notification on your phone. It was from Nami. You raised an eyebrow, wondering why Nami would contact you at a time like this.

(Nami) - 10:57 P.M.

hi F/N !!! (☆ω☆*) so like… i know i mentioned this ages and ages ago but do you still want to come to that slumber party ?

(You) - 10:57 P.M.

sure ! i’ll be there, what time does it start and where is it ?

(Nami) - 10:59 P.M.

[Attachment - 1 Link]

here’s the address, it’s sanji’s house, the party starts at 6 P.M. !!! i’ll be there so don’t worry !! 💅🏻(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

That slumber party… you had forgotten you were invited altogether. You recalled it now, how you were super uncomfortable with going over there during that time at the mall, but now, it felt like a dream. You already knew you were going to have to prepare an outfit, so you rolled out of bed and started to put an outfit together.

Excitedly, you find your best pair of pajama bottoms and your best top to match and set it aside. You had time to go get everything ready for yourself tomorrow, so for now you just decided to lay down and get some rest.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★⋆˙⟡♡

The next evening, you were getting ready to leave your house and go to Sanji’s place, making sure you brought all your slumber party essentials. You exit your house, locking your front door and checking it twice before getting into your vehicle and driving over to Sanji’s house.

Upon arrival, you can see figures moving around inside the dimly lit living room. You exit your car and grab your backpack, going to the front door and knocking. The door swings open and Zoro is at the door. “Oh, hey, it’s F/N guys!” A loud, feminine cheer echoes within the room, coming straight from Nami. You smile awkwardly as you shuffle inside, your pajamas slightly tight fitted around you.

“Wow, F/N, I love your PJ’s!” Nami commented, coming up to you and hugging you. “Oh, and I say this to every person who arrives other than myself and Sanji, be glad that Boa isn’t here or else we’ll have to deal with her swooning over Luffy when he barely has the mental capacity to even recognize her flirtatiousness. Yuck!”

You chuckle a little bit, looking over at Luffy’s direction.

This time, for once, he wasn’t in his own world, but instead knocked the fuck out, sleeping. The position he was sleeping in made him look like he fell from the 4th floor of a building, which made you laugh a bit. “Silly lil’ Luffy, slump already.” You said.

After you settled in, the rest of the night was a hit. You guys ate dinner together, watched some scary movies, played on Sanji’s console for a while, and things finally began to tone down. Nami, Luffy and Zoro were all fast asleep, and it was only you and Sanji who were awake.

Sanji looked tense, uneasy, almost. His face looked nervous and a bit pale, like something was eating at him and it was burning. You reach out your hand to his shoulder. “You okay Sanj? You look a bit nervous.” You said, your eyebrows furrowing into a concerned expression, your eyes following suit.

Sanji nods slowly, then looks at you. “F/N, can I talk to you alone? Away from the others. I don’t want any of them accidentally eavesdropping on what I want to say to you.” Your heart began racing in your chest, looking at the three others around you. Sanji hasn’t ever really called you by your real name before other than your first contact. This scared you slightly, but you nodded your head anyway and followed Sanji to the dining room. Beginning with a low, semi-unintelligible voice, Sanji spoke to you directly.

“F/N, I don’t really know how to express myself to the fullest extent that I have in my mind right now, but I think now is the right time to really speak my heart out to you.” Sanji took a breath, and you looked at him carefully. “It’s only been a month and some change and I’m probably em… how do you say, eh… walking into this too fast. But over the time we’ve been together, I’ve realized that I’ve caught new emotions for you. I believe in English, it is said that I have a crush on you.”

Sanji has a crush on you? You had to admit it, you were crushing on him too, but this felt so sudden… but you wanted this so bad… all the times he made your heart flutter, all the times he made you swallow the awkward lump in your throat, every time he made you think positively of yourself… you couldn’t want anything more than Sanji to yourself. “Sanji, I-”

“No, it’s okay F/N, you don’t have to reciprocate the feelings, it’s okay, really.”

“Sanji, I have a crush on you too.” There was a beat of silence. It filled the room and it was loud. Sanji’s face slowly lit up red and the corners of his lips lit up into a smile. “Oh, F/N, je t'aime…” He said to you, holding you close. Your heart skipped a beat slightly as you batted your lashes at him.

You gently push yourself into him, pressing your lips against his. His lips were soft and tender, they felt so nice against yours. It was your first kiss, and it made your life worthwhile, your heart running track as you shared the intimacy with him. Sanji closed his eyes and held you close, eventually pulling away from the liplock. “I love you, mon amour.”

“I love you too.”

☆⋆｡𖦹° 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ‧★⋆˙⟡♡

translations !!

★␥→ comment dis-tu cela en anglais? → how do you say it in english?

★␥→viola → here (in means of being finished with something)

★␥→ mademoiselle → my lady

★␥→ madam → ma’am

★␥→ je t’aime → i love you

★␥→ mon amour → my love

thank you so much for reading my fanfic ! i hope you enjoyed this story and hope you stick around for more !

some of you may be wondering : “didn’t you already have a fic with this exact same scenario before ? where did that go ?” simple answer : i rewrote it !

aside from that, thank you so much for stopping by, and i hope you enjoy any future content of mine !

seeya soon ! ★⋆. ࿐࿔

update:

hello everyone !! so i noticed that i... mixed up nico robin and boa hancock... so i fixed that !! whoopsie !! thanks for reading the update if you see it :3

all characters licensed and owned by eiichiro oda

#fanfic #fan fiction #op sanji #sanji #sanji x reader #x reader #vinsmoke sanji #one peice #op #op x reader #sanji fanfic #one piece strawhats

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emafrost · 6 months

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the first time emma bleached her hair she did it herself. the results were disastrous and made her panic and run to the nearest salon where she psychically compelled the whole staff to give her the best of the best and that she paid

#both her and the workers came out with massive headaches but she felt a certain confidence she never had before #now she'll take students who need a little pick-me-up to the same salon and tip Very generously #headcanon.

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cosmosalon · 7 months

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Achieve Silky, Shiny Locks: Premium Keratin Therapy at Lahore's Finest Hair Studio

Are you dreaming of sleek, smooth, and manageable hair that's not just a mere reflection of health but a statement of style and elegance? Look no further, as today we delve into the world of keratin treatments and guide you to the finest establishments for hair care—specifically, the best salon in Lahore.

What is a Keratin Treatment? Keratin treatments are a revolutionary process that transforms frizzy, difficult-to-manage hair into straight, glossy, and smooth tresses. Keratin is a protein found naturally in your hair, which the treatment replenishes, resulting in nourished and repaired hair strands. This smoothing remedy coats the outer layer of the hair, sealing in moisture and eliminating frizz.

The Benefits of a Professional Keratin Treatment Before heading to the nearest salon, let's explore the advantages of seeking a professional keratin treatment:

Frizz-Free Living: Say goodbye to uncontrollable hair, regardless of humidity. Ease of Styling: Hair becomes more manageable, saving you valuable time during your morning routine. Enhanced Hair Texture: Enjoy softer and shinier hair. Long-Lasting Results: Effects can last up to six months with proper care.

Choosing the Best Salon in Lahore for Your Keratin Treatment When considering a keratin treatment, it's imperative to select a salon that stands out for its exemplary services and customer satisfaction. The best salon in Lahore should boast the following features:

Expert Stylists: Professionals with extensive training in keratin treatments. High-Quality Products: Salons should use premium, salon-grade keratin formulations. Health and Safety Compliance: Proper ventilation and safety measures to ensure a comfortable experience. Customization: Tailoring the treatment to suit your unique hair type and needs. Positive Testimonials: Glowing reviews and before-and-after photos from satisfied clients.

Integration of the Keratin Treatment Experience Embarking on a keratin treatment journey isn't merely about stepping into any salon; it's about choosing a destination that parallels a sanctuary for haircare. Consider this: before booking your appointment, ensure the establishment's reputation aligns with what you envision as the best salon in Lahore, where the transformation of your locks is guaranteed to be in skilled hands.

Post-Treatment Care Once your treatment is complete, extend the life of your keratinized hair:

Use the Right Products: Sulfate-free shampoos and conditioners are a must. Avoid Salt Water: Sea bathing can shorten the lifespan of your treatment. Reduce Heat Styling: Let your hair dry naturally or use heat protection when styling.

Conclusion In Lahore and beyond, the pursuit of flawless hair leads to keratin treatments. But remember, the key to unlocking the full potential of this hair therapy lies within the walls of the best salon in Lahore. A place where expertise meets luxury and your hair’s transformation is not just a promise, but a celebration of beauty—in its smoothest, most radiant form.

For those ready to embrace the metamorphosis, embark on this hair journey with confidence. Seek out the crème de la crème of Lahore's salons and prepare to turn heads with your stunningly sleek and smooth hair. After all, isn't it time your hair reflected the true, poised, and dynamic individual you are?

#beauty salon #best salon in lahore #beauty parlour in lahore

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primordialsoundmeditation · 1 year

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On World Book Day 📖

'Books are a refuge, a sort of cloistral refuge, from the vulgarities of the actual world.' ― Walter Pater

'Of all the inanimate objects, of all men's creations, books are the nearest to us for they contain our very thoughts, our ambitions, our indignations, our illusions, our fidelity to the truth, and our persistent leanings to error. But most of all they resemble us in their precious hold on life.' ― Joseph Conrad

'This is perhaps the most noble aim of poetry, to attach ourselves to the world around us, to turn desire into love, to embrace, finally what always evades us, what is beyond, but what is always there – the unspoken, the spirit, the soul.' ― Octavio Paz, The Other Voice: Essays on Modern Poetry

"Woman Reading", c. 1889

By Asta Nørregaard, Norwegian painter best known for her portraits (1853-1933) #Artbyfemaleartists

oil on canvas

Private Collection

About the Artist:

Asta Nørregaard and an older sister were orphaned early and both remained unmarried.

Asta Nørregaard received her early education at the Knud Bergslien painting school together with Harriet Backer.

She was a pupil of Eilif Peterssen in Munich from 1875 to 1878. She studied in Paris during 1879. Nørregaard held solo exhibitions at Blomqvist Kunsthandel (Blomqvist Auction House, Norway's leading and largest auction house) in 1893, 1903, 1913 and 1925.

She was also a frequent exhibitor at group exhibitions: Salon de Paris in 1881 and 1882, and world exhibitions in Antwerp in 1885 and Paris 1889.

She received the King's Medal of Merit in gold in 1920. Her work is exhibited at the Munch Museum, Oslo City Museum, University of Oslo and National Gallery in Oslo. Nørregaard was included in the 2018 exhibit Women in Paris 1850-1900.

Mia Feigelson Gallery

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unholyhelbig · 2 years

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Ronancetober Day#7: Sapphic Senate

[A/N: Okay, I admit, I've never written Chrissy or Vicki into a fic. Go easy on me!]

Special thanks to @hellmo who answered all the questions I had!

Read on Ao3

Summary: When a new floral shop opens up next door to the forever-standing Demolition Ink tattoo parlor, Vickie and Robin meet the two new owners.

The building on the corner could never hold a business for longer than a year. It was a good spot located on main street, a tattoo shop on one side and a locally owned bookstore on the other, both of which had occupied the spaces for more than a decade, changing hands diligently. However, that middle unit had switched from a hair salon, an escape room, a café, and then back to a hair salon.

Vickie had hoisted herself up on the counter of Demolition Ink. Her ankles were crossed, a red lollipop shifting from one cheek to the other. She watched the moving van settle in front of the row of shops. “Robbie?”

“Hmm?”

Robin didn't look up from the light table that she was hunched over. Her hands worked with diligence, hair falling into her stormy gaze. She had a sprawling design of a scarecrow with a pumpkin for a head in front of her. It was meant as a full-back piece in black-and-white realism and she had always been meticulous about her work.

“New neighbors. Who do you think it’ll be this time?”

Robin straightened up with a groan. Her back was aching. She blinked away the design that lingered in her field of vision. She watched as two girls hopped out of the truck. One was in overalls, with strawberry blonde hair tied into a messy bun. The other rounded the cab before she got a good look.

“Mm, some green juice place?”

“No, absolutely not.”

Robin hated this game. Vickie had a tendency to get competitive when there was money on the line. The small jar on the far side of the tattoo shop had originally been a makeshift swear jar, but eventually turned into any change being shoved through the top. They tended to give the closest guesser the dusty glass jar.

Robin rounded the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. She couldn’t bare staring at her design for one more moment. Her client was sure to change their mind seven more times before she actually got him into the chair.

“Okay, fine. Florist?”

“Florist.” Vickie lifted an eyebrow, testing the word against her tongue. “Yeah, I could see it.”

“You could? I mean, of course, you could.”

That money was as good as Robin’s. She had to admit that Vicki had a bit of a winning streak, having pocketed the change. She grinned at Vickie and started her closing procedures. Her last appointment of the day had canceled on her, and while she lamented the fact that she had already set up her station, she was looking forward to getting home and getting a good glass of white wine in.

She picked up the collection of trash as Vicki worked on flicking the lights off at each station. Robin pushed into the back alleyway, the air warm and pinching at the back of her throat. Robin tossed the bag into the nearest dumpster. She lifted both of her arms in victory “Ten Points!”

“Solid six, at best”

Robin turned around, lowering her arms. She was used to being the only one in the alleyway that smelled like rancid Italian food from the business down the street. Robin had bumped into an old hairdresser that wore thick bifocals and told her that her hair was messy and could be tamed by some clippers.

Instead of a nosy barber, there was a woman that looked about her age. She wore a messy white shirt cooked with sweat, her curly brown hair was held up with her hand, peeling it away from her neck. She had the deepest blue eyes that Robin had ever seen, and Robin had to admit that this was way better than her previous next-door neighbors.

“Nice shot, though,” The woman said with a wolfish smile.

“Thank you, I have loads of practice. I’m Robin. I own Demolition Ink.”

The stranger racked her eyes from the Doc Martin’s on Robin’s feet to the black t-shirt that hugged her sides. Traditional-styled tattoos littered her arms, her collarbones, and small unreachable pieces of her hands.

She took her hand, grasping it, reveling in the warmth. “Nancy, the new owner of Forever Floral.”

Robin smiled wider then. She had officially won the bet, but she swallowed her cries of success. Part of her lamented over the fact that she had to let go of Nancy’s hand. Their touches lingered for a moment too long and they shared an awkward laugh.

Two days later a girl entered the tattoo parlor with a certain type of timidness that Robin and Vickie recognized from people who had never had an inked needle touch their skin before. She had dirt under her nails and a smudge of color right under her cheek.

“Welcome to Demolition Ink,” Vicki stumbled out quickly, a smile wavering on her face.

Robin lifted both of her eyebrows and leaned back in the desk chair, crossing her arms across her chest. She never greeted customers and had been in a bit of a rough mood after Robin boastfully took the crumpled bills and coins from it's spot on the shelf.

“I’m from next door, Forever Floral,” the girl said with a smile “I think we got some of your mail.”

Robin flicked her eyes from the girl back to Vickie, who had a red blush creeping up her neck under her button-down, thoroughly stained with little drops of ink that hadn’t made it past skin. Robin tucked the pencil behind her ear.

“I’m Vickie, this is Robin. Thank you for the mail.”

“Chrissy,” Her slate eyes lit up as she surveyed them both. “I think you’ve already met my boss, Nancy.”

This girl had a lot of energy. To be fair, so did Robin. It seemed to match on a different type of wavelength. Vickie rifled non-committedly through the stack of pamphlets and offers from a cable company that would end up straight in the garbage.

“She critiqued my trash-tossing skills, but I will let it slide,” Robin said.

It wasn’t until a week after the slight but swelling interaction in Demolition ink that Robin and Vickie ran back into their neighbors to the left. They were returning after a lunch hour, hands shoved in their pockets and a steady conversation flowing between both of them.

The sound of a vintage radio station cut through the air, flowing through the open door. It was propped open with a small cinderblock. Vickie craned her neck, trying to get a good look at the renovations of Forever Floral.

A loud clang startled both of them, their shoulders raising in shock. It took a few more seconds before both Nancy and Chrissy emerged covered in a deep red liquid. It dripped across their fronts, Chrissy using the back of her hands to wipe the color from her eyes.

“Oh, I’m going to Vomit,” Nancy spit to the side.

Robin blinked numbly at them both. She and Vickie were gaping, the sidewalk in front of the store was dripping with red splatters of color. “Oh my god, is that blood?”

“This is like an episode of Dexter, but worse because it’s actually happening,” Vickie said.

“Accent wall,” Nancy blinked rapidly.

“Dropping open paint cans from the top rung of a ladder is… explosive to say the least.” Chrissy chuckled.

Robin couldn’t stifle her smile, not that either of the two girls could see it past the paint that clouded their eyes. She couldn’t bare to watch them cough out the fumes much longer. “Can I guide you?”

“Please”

She took Nancy’s hands and pulled her gently to the lobby of Demolition Ink, guiding her to the only chair in the place that could suffer a smattering of paint. Chrissy had been directed by the shoulders and planted right next to her by Vickie. She reached out her hands and felt for Nancy’s features.

“What are you doing?” Nancy mumbled, grabbing the girls’ hands.

“Getting used to being blind. I already miss your face.”

Robin shook her head with a smile and returned with two warmly soaked towels. Vickie looked at Chrissy with a strange sort of admiration that she only gave the money jar collecting dust on the shelf.

“I don’t want to scare you,” Robin began, kneeling in front of Nancy.

“Oh my god, I really am going to be blind, aren’t I? I can’t arrange flowers if I’m blind, Robin.”

“No, no” She laughed, “I’m just going to get the paint out of your eyes. I didn’t want to startle you.”

“Consider me sufficiently startled”

Robin took her hand and gently placed it on Nancy’s chin. She lilted her head to the side and started to wipe away the red paint until it bled to pink, and then she got the pleasure of seeing those bright blue orbs blinking back at her. Vickie worked at the slowly drying color against Chrissy’s cheeks.

“Hi,” Robin said, leaning back on her ankles, saturated rag in her hand.

“Hello,” Nancy tested her vision, looking around the small shop. “This is mortifying”

“Ah, yes, I would say this is a solid six out of ten on the scale of embarrassment.”

“Solid six out of ten, huh?” Nancy frowned and wiped her paint-covered palm against Robin’s face, the red staining her cheek and down to her chin. Robin gaped at her for a moment before a smile spread.

“Ha,” Vickie laughed, “Sucker”

Chrissy got a devilish look in her eyes before she swiped up a big glob of paint from her collarbone and splattered it against Vicki’s face. There was a quick silence that was cut through with Chrissy’s infectious giggle, soon they were all laughing.

“Now that,” Nancy said between laughs “That was a solid ten out of ten.”

#Ronancetober #Roanancetober Day 7 #Robin Buckley #Nancy Wheeler #chrissy cunningham #vickie stranger things #Sapphic Senate #stranger things

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