—perry @suttonperry-blog - Tumblr Blog

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rico-elena

#self.

lilmamabeyellin

the older i get the more unnecessary it seems to tell people my business

#muse.

vic--nixon:

Victoria often wondered around with her head in a book. While she preferred the comfort of feeling the pages between her fingers, sometimes she carried around her kindle which was filled to the brim of digital books that she’d bought or illegally downloaded in the past. Slowly but surely she was making her way through a new novel, one that had her completely enraptured, and her attention was deviated down to the screen rather than where she was walking. So, she didn’t see the slight hole in the sidewalk until her toes had hit the concrete the correct way to send her spiraling onto her front, the e-reader flying forward with a sickening crunch signalling the end of the screen life as it shattered and spilt tiny shards of glass everywhere. She tried to catch herself with her hands but only half succeeded, her face hitting the cement and leaving an oncoming bruise near her eye, the skin split there and starting to sluggishly bleed, Victoria groaned and slowly began to push herself into a sitting position, quickly finding the wall behind her to lean against the cool bricks. Her face hurt, which was unfortunate, but her attention slipped to the tablet lying on the ground a few feet away and she felt an irrational anger fill in her chest at the sight. “Fucking shit, goddammit, son of a bitch!” She cursed, a childish scowl on her face and her arms crossing in a pout.

The blues of Sutton’s eyes darted toward the ground immediately. At first she wasn’t quite sure what she was seeing—a blur of pink and blonde falling uncontrollably toward the cement. She held her breath, too far away to reach out and help any. It was a shame, really, the young woman frozen in place. It was only after the person in front of her completed her fall that Sutton noticed a small, cracked screen slide towards her feet. Hesitantly, she reached down to pick up its remains, glancing over towards the now cursing girl. “You walk these streets long enough and you’ll learn where all of the cracks and divots are,” Sutton said, standing back up and taking a few steps forward. Her free arm reached down, an offer to help the other up. “Might I also suggest reading paperback or hardcover? They don’t break as easily.” A thin, sympathetic smile spread across her lips.

#victoria

rhettschachter:

“No, I understand what ‘overworked’ means, but I was told it would definitely be ready today. Now. At this time,” He mumbled to the cashier, the male’s elbows up on the counter, shoulders leaned in, adjacent to him a few coats and dresses on hangers, hugged in plastic–– apparently finished orders in a messy, unclaimed queue. A few more sharp, hushed interactions and it seemed Rhett managed to get his suit pushed to the front of whatever order the Dry Cleaners was in, the stout worker, shuffling off to the back. He rested at ease, arms covered in the loose, white fabric of a button up, shoulders turning and head following as eyes fell on the person behind, “Good luck with that guy,” The male exhorted briefly, gesturing a thumb back behind him before he himself meandered off to the waiting area, beginning to fix himself a cup of unpromising coffee. If there was one thing he despised it was being unpunctual, particularly if it was out of his control.

Sutton’s arched brows rose slightly as she watched the scene play out in front of her. Her weight shifted as she waited, unfazed, a stack of pinstripe button downs resting on one of her arms. It was her day off, which meant getting all of her work uniforms cleaned to perfection. Pressed and pristine. Not that the blonde ever made much of a mess while out on the restaurant floor—if any mess at all. She could probably go much longer without taking them to this packed shoe box of a dry cleaners, but nonetheless, Sutton was persistent. “I’ll take my chances,” she noted after the man in front of her forewarned her of what sounded like imminent doom. Unshaken, she stepped forward and offered the worker her most pleasant smile. Less than a minute later her garments had been taken from her, getting in return a promise that they’d be finished by tomorrow morning. Spotting the man who’d been having trouble, Sutton took a few steps towards the waiting area. “You have to get on their good side,” she noted in almost a whisper. As if sharing a secret. “Become a regular. Bring them little gifts around the holidays. They’ll remember you and help you out a little more. Favoritism and all.”

#rhett

100493503004422

*admires my own taste in music, food, & literature*

#muse.

luxuriouslively

#muse.

nathaliedeekes:

At this point, Nathalie was willing to accept any kind of help that would get her out of this parking lot and on her way home. “Basically, I’m just trying to get the wheel off the car and for some reason seems to completely unwilling to separate and grant my tire its freedom,” Nathalie pulled again, attempting to use all of the strength that she had which quickly resulted in her losing balance and falling back on her butt. Even in her painfully obvious frustration, all Nathalie could do at this point was laugh. It took her a moment to realize that the woman who she’d called over to help now probably thought she was insane. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day and I think it’s finally catching up with me,” she admitted with a chuckle before moving to stand back on her feet, shifting her gaze over towards the wheel. “If you could just help me yank this tire off, I’d appreciate it.”

Sutton bit at her bottom lip. If she were honest, she’d never changed a tire in her entire life. Hell, she wondered if she remembered how to drive. Public transportation—subways, taxis—had always been her go-to. Regardless, she nodded at the other’s explanation. Instinctively, she attempted to reach forward and keep her from falling, but was a couple feet too far away. At least the other girl simply laughed it off. “Don’t worry. I know the feeling well.” Sutton nodded, reinforcing her words, before stepping forward. “Got it.” The blonde reached down, ready to pull. “Just say when.”

oliviabennett:

The tension lingered in her blood for a moment, and Olivia nearly expected the blonde to walk up and take over from the older woman. From the outside, it must have looked like an absolute train wreck— and like Olivia deserved the shots fired at her for breaking up a family. She knew the connotations words like those evoked and though she might have been guilty of breaking up a family further, she believed it had been broken long before she came into the picture, but wouldn’t have blamed the blonde if she would have wanted her two cents interjected.

But instead she asked Olivia if she was okay. There were no traces of insincerity, and the brunette soon laced her visage with a gentle smile, bred from relief and gratitude. “Yes, I’m alright, thank you. Sorry you had to witness that though— it was brutal.”

As a small smile seemed to take place on the brunette’s lips, one did on Sutton’s as well. A quick shrug lifted her shoulders. “I work in the city. In a restaurant. Believe me when I tell you that I’ve witnessed worse.” Though a small laugh left the girl, she was far from joking. The types of people that frequented E60—wealthy, often entitled—were prone to short tempers. She’d seen a surprising amount of people making a scene over the years. “People can be cruel,” the blonde picked up. “Was it deserved?” Sutton’s eyes glanced towards the cars passing in front of them, not wanting to appear nosy.

connorowenandrews:

“Not really … I mean, it’s not completely out of the realm of possibility…” he trailed off with a brief moment of panic as he considered his medical history before deciding that hallucination a voicemail was probably a bit too unlikely. “No, no, it’s probably an alternate universe.” he added with a sigh, leaning his head back and wishing for a moment that there was a wall nearby to bang his head into a few times. “Hmm. Maybe, existential crisis would be the more normal explanation. For him too probably for this to happen … he hasn’t called me at all in … years, actually.”

An amused, reassuring smile lifted the corners of Sutton’s lips. “Of course, alternate universe,” she noted quietly as Connor continued talking. At this point she pulled out a chair and took a seat, setting her book atop the table’s surface. “It may be a long shot,” the blonde began, leaning forward just slightly, as if telling a secret, “but perhaps he called because he does miss you. And to explain the move. Maybe there’s no trickery involved at all.” Sutton shrugged, nails tapping against the book’s cover a few times as she leaned back. “Or, perhaps we have entered an alternate universe. Do you think they have flying fish here? Underwater breathing? We should try and do back flips. See what happens.” Once a short laugh had subsided, Sutton shrugged. “Are you going to call him back? Ask for an explanation?

wcrrington:

It was a lonely night at the bar, barely anyone had come in in the time that Pippa had be perched at the bar, martini in hand. Granted she wasn’t expecting anyone, it gave her a good reason to drunkenly open dating apps, sighing and commenting out loud anytime that someone vaguely attractive flicked by as she swiped, or someone who hadn’t a hope in hell with the brunette. “Don’t you think that some of these apps can be kind of ridiculous?” she questioned the nearest person to her. “I do think it’s terrible how it is based on appearance, but hey, you aren’t going to approach someone you don’t find attractive in real life, right? It’s just more blatant on an app,” Pippa asked, thinking aloud as she bit the olive at the end of the cocktail stick as she set down her phone.

Only fifteen, perhaps twenty minutes had passed since Sutton had sat herself down at the bar. She’d come along, seeking some calm after a long day about the city. She hadn’t had work today, but her parents had made sure to get it through to her how important a day of museum events followed by art auctions were. She hadn’t lived with them for years, but there was always a family calendar. Appearances to make. People to make small talk with. Honestly, it could be tiresome. Boring. Yet, Sutton knew far better than to complain. Things could be much worse. Instead, when all was said and done she’d sit herself down here, at this bar, and let it all roll off her back instead. “Kind of?” she replied to the woman next to her, eyes flickering down at the cell phone. A shrug then lifted her shoulders. “Attraction is entirely natural. Anyone who says you need to give everyone a chance, because looks aren’t important, is telling a bold faced lie.”

#phillipa

avakingston:

“How the hell can you be with someone for seven years, and decide on the day of your wedding that they’re not the one you want?” Ava questioned out loud, still completely lost on that thought. Hell, the whole day, in fact. “Especially when the engagement, itself, was two years? In all that time, you couldn’t stop and think, huh — this isn’t what I want—? Instead, you wait until the day of? It really couldn’t have all just hit you right there and then.” Or could it.

Sutton had just made her way up to the bar, clutch barely touching its surface before she heard a voice coming from the seat next to hers. The girl settled in, turning slightly towards the other with an immediately attentive ear. Sutton knew all about listening to people’s stories—snippets from their lives. Things they subconsciously wanted her to fix with a glass of wine and a, thank you for dining with us. Only, this wasn’t the restaurant. In fact, this was out of the city. The Perry girl didn’t need to put on a class act for anyone, and yet she always did.

“You sound like you could use a drink.” Without missing a beat Sutton flagged down the bartender. “Terlarto Pinot Grigio. The... 2016 vintage. Two. Thank you.” As the man behind the bar stepped away, Sutton turned back toward the other blonde. “Sometimes people think happy things will make everything better,” she began, one arm resting atop the bar. “It’s why so many troubled married couples have children. They think this one good thing—in this case, a wedding—will take away all of the bad. Then it happens and you realize that’s not the case.” Sutton shrugged, giving the bartender a thankful smile as he set their glasses out in front of them. “At least it didn’t end in divorce.”

#ava

lostboyziggy:

“Starting to wonder about if I was really over you and its starting to wig me starting to dig in about if I was really over you Im not over you…“

It had been an okay day at Landford. After the song and a little applause from the small crowd he did a small bow. When he saw a 5 being offered up Ziggy perked up and grew a half grin. “Thanks man. Did you have a request or something?” Was all he could murmur as he grabbed it.

A gust of wind flew through the subway station, blowing a few strands of hair into Sutton’s vision. The day had been like any other—take the train into the city, work, take the train out of the city. Only, these days it was uncommon for the young woman to come across a musical act in the station that wasn’t hip hop dancers or beat makers. The tune of the acoustic guitar floated around her, drawing an appreciative smile. It was calming after the go-go-go of a day. As she got nearer to the sound, Sutton reached into her bag, pulled out her wallet, and took a bill from inside. She’d expected a quick nod of gratitude at most, the man’s question almost taking her off guard. “Not exactly, but if you started playing some Sinatra I don’t think anyone would mind.”

#ziggy

oliviabennett:

The woman came from out of nowhere— she rushed in and blocked Olivia’s path, and no sooner than the brunette had acknowledged her existence did she start yelling and screaming at her. It took Olivia a while to understand that the woman was the grandmother of a child she had removed from a home in the city three months ago. This was all part of her job, but Olivia was far from seasoned yet, and this was the first time she had been confronted like this, out in public no less, and so angrily too. There was nothing to do but stand there and take it however, and once the woman finally seemed to have said her thing, including a lot of profanities and hurtful words, she moved on with a scoff and left Olivia standing on a corner in the middle of Westbrook, shocked and embarrassed.

“Um… I can explain,” she said when she noticed a person staring at her, looking just as shocked as her. “I mean, actually I can’t. I’m not allowed to, but I promise it’s not as bad as it looks. Or sounds.”

Sutton offered the girl a reassuring a smile, nodding once to what she’d said. The blonde hadn’t caught most of what the older lady had said, having turned onto the corner towards the end of the conversation, but from what she’d gathered it hadn’t been pretty. Nonetheless, she didn’t ask for the details. If Sutton had learned anything while in the restaurant business it was that you don’t pry. It never turned out well. “Are you alright?” she asked, taking a few steps forward and eyeing the crosswalk sign.

#olivia

nathaliedeekes:

“Oh come on you stupid, son of a bitch,” Nat’s hands gripped the wrench tightly, her face twisted into a frustrated expression, “Please, please, please.” It appeared no matter how much Nathalie begged, the lugnut on her hubcap wasn’t going to budge and she was destined to spend the next hour waiting for a tow truck. The sight of another person walking lifted the brunette’s spirits, if only slightly. “Excuse me, do you think you could help me?” she quickly bent down to yank on the wrench still attached to her wheel, “I’ve been trying to get this lugnut off for close to twenty minutes and nothing. Maybe if we both try it might work?”

It had been a long day at the restaurant, Sutton watching with relief as the sun began to dip behind buildings. She walked along the sidewalk, eager to get home and draw herself a bath. Perhaps she’d stop somewhere reputable along the way and pick up something to drink. What taste complimented being in a bubble bath? Something crisp... Pinot Grigio... Sutton was brought out of her internal wanderings, a voice directed at her catching her attention. All at once she remembered her surroundings. “I don’t know how much of a help I can be here...” the blonde began, eyeing the wrench. “How about you tell me what I can do and we’ll see what happens?”

#nathalie

riserf:

“Those warnings on Red Bull are all bullshit, right?” the words spurted out of the man’s mouth, his leather sole exaggeratedly tapping against the sidewalk as he looked up at the character to his right. He was determined to evade the lack of sleep that was bound to catch up with him at any point, and his imminently approaching shift-start loomed over his head like a dark cloud. “This is my, like, fourth today, or something, but I feel fine. Actually feel great - better than ever.” he nodded unconvincingly, peering round the bus stop to scan the oncoming traffic.

In all honestly, Sutton should’ve known that the one day she chose to take the bus into the city she’d be brought into some out-there conversation. She was used to wading in and out of topics of all sorts, but this time she’d been caught off guard. Zoning out, really. “Hm?” she half questioned, head turning and eyes landing on the boy. Once what he’d been saying hit her, the small laugh that left her lips was unsuppressible. “Do you do this often?” she questioned, shifting her weight. She offered him a reassuring smile. “Maybe stop at four—and definitely don’t go mixing it with alcohol.”

#freddie

connorowenandrews:

Connor frowned in confusion as he listened to the message on his phone, trying to figure out what was going on. He looked up after a moment and spotted someone nearby, “You ever have something so weird happen that you kind of have to stop for a second to figure out if you’ve slipped into an alternate universe or something?” he questioned, needing someone else to bounce the situation off of, “My dad just left a voicemail apologizing for my mom’s behavior the last few times I ran into her, and for not warning me when they moved here. He even said he missed me. I don’t know, I’m thinking alternate universe or … I’m hallucinating. Am I hallucinating?” he babbled.

Short heels clacked across the ground as Sutton walked, eyes downcast on a book in her hands. The Sotheby's Wine Encyclopedia. Even on her days off she didn’t take a day off. She’d been in the middle of rereading a section on Bordeaux when something—someone—drew her attention. The girl’s brows rose momentarily, as if to ask, is this a hypothetical question? Nevertheless, she stopped in place, closing the book. She paused a few moments, waiting for more to be said. A quiet laugh escaped Sutton’s lips once the boy seemed to have finished. “That depends. Are you prone to auditory hallucinations?” she asked, not all that seriously. “I’m tempted to peg this as a minor existential crisis instead.”

#connor

lovekali:

“I’d kill to see a good horror movie”, Kalia said out loud at the mall looking at the featured films playing.

Sutton had already been standing in front of the mall theater for a few minutes, eyes scanning the titles splayed across the large marquee. She observed them like one examined a piece of art—like the words themselves would animate and begin acting out their stories all around her. She had always been privy to the idea of seeing films alone. Movies were something of an intimate experience, after all—your perception not meant to be influenced by anyone else. Hearing a voice nearby, Sutton’s eyes flitted to the young woman now at her side, then back toward the marquee. “Was that an intentional pun?” she asked, a knowing smile lifting the edges of her lips.

#kalia.

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—perry