snf week 2021 {sapnotfound}

inkless canvas.

snf day three: shop au
there is nsfw so be aware of that

The same day Dream lets Sapnap run the parlor himself is the same day the worst storm of the year blows in the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Okay, so that's an exaggeration, probably, but the man is pretty in a way most customers in the shop aren't, pushing rain slick hair off his forehead.

"Hello," the man says, and Sapnap would probably be able to make a nice musical metaphor about his voice if he listened to something other than melodic screaming. The man's eyes are darting and uncertain, restless as are his fingers, which at the moment are fumbling nervously with one another. Sapnap forces down a smirk. Dream tells him it's rude to laugh at new customers, but their nervousness is hilarious. Usually. On this man it's almost cute. Sapnap's lips curl anyway.

"Hey," the chestnut says, pushing down the butterflies that had arisen in the heat of his stomach. "You got an appointment?"

He leans on the counter, resting his chin on his hand and peers up at the man. The brunette looks like they might be slim, sort of lanky, under their oversized jacket, but something about the curve of their jaw speaks at a hint of softness. Still, their fingers are long and thin, and Sapnap really wants to . . .

Well, do something that would have him cleaning the entire place top to bottom while Dream yells at him about health code violations.

"Ah, yes," the man says. Their cheeks are pink, and Sapnap wonders if he's come on too strong before deciding that it's probably the weather's fault. "George Davidson. I emailed a picture of a design last week. Are you Sapnap?"

"Yeah," Sapnap says, forgetting for a moment his mission to flirt the pants off George. He'd had to beg Dream for days to let him do this design after reading her emails over the blonde's shoulder, not to mention promise to be his bitch for about a month, but goddamn would it be worth it for this design.

The original drawing had been a bit wobbly and very uneven, but under Dream's pen, the phoenix had become an ethereal apex predator. The lines are too straight and geometric to be properly realistic, but the amount of detail is astounding. Tiny, hyper real emeralds make up the eyes, and a nebula drips from the wings and tail feathers. Sapnap knows he can do the masterpiece justice, he's been Dream's apprentice for years, but the prospect is terrifying and exhilarating in equal parts.

"Alright." George seems a little more relaxed. "Dream said it would take a few weeks?" He trails off into a question.

"Yeah," Sapnap repeats, slipping into professionalism like an old jacket. "Today we're just going to be doing the outlines, but first I'll need to double check some things with you. Oh, and you need to fill out this form."

Sapnap pulls out a clipboard and safety form with a flourish. George takes them and plucks a pen from the jar on the counter. They go over a few little things, the size of the feet, the ripple of the nebula, is George sure he wants the wings to stretch onto his arms? The remaining awkward tension seems to drain out of George as they chat, and Sapnap feels strangely proud.

"Alright," Sapnap says when George hands him the completed form, everything perfectly in order. "Shirt off, lay down at that station, and I'll quick print out a stencil." He turns on his heel, only to finish  as George makes a small choking sound.

"What?" Sapnap asks incredulously. George fiddles with the hems of his coat sleeves and stares in apparent fascination at a spot near his boot. "I can't tattoo you with your shirt on, unless you want a scribbly nightmare." He gives George a once over. "You could probably pull it off, but I really want to do that phoenix it's justice. Plus you'd look way better if it wasn't all fucked."