#1) washing/fixing the wig

[harrysborn]

once i'm out of the con crunch (con this wknd) i WILL be drawing more insom p4rksborn . mark my words...

[monzabee]

this is a relationship, that i don’t think anyone saw coming  – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you and Charles think you are successfully fooling everyone on the grid, when in reality you are the ones being fooled.

Pairing: charles leclerc x merc!driver!reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: cursing, kissing, hiding a relationship (and doing it very badly), smut elements! (in one of the scenes, nothing penetrative), idiots to lovers, sexism and racism in motorsports, pop culture references (bad and many of them).

Request: “Hello! Can I request a charles leclerc imagine where the reader is a f1 driver and they try to hide their relationship from the paddock, but everyone knows and in the end they just reveal it. Thanks xx” + “this is not a request, but, can you use a dialogue from one of your favourite tv shows/series?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! the title comes from an episode of the kardashians, but it was very popular on tiktok for a while so here you go! the request for this one was so good, and i had so much fun writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i do. the dialogue i used for the second request/promt is from season 1 episode 9 of suits, which is one of my absolute favourite tv series of all time (even though it has too many legal inaccuracies), and you can watch the scene from here. ALSO, because i can never choose one, i decided to use another dialogue from season 1 episode 18 of gilmore girls, and i think it is the best piece of television ever written, and you can watch it from here. there are a bunch of pop culture references in there, so if you can spot them, you are a star! thank you anons for your requests, and i hope you guys enjoy this one! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles is not stupid, in fact, he prides himself in being smart. However, as one of his best friends are looking at him with an unamused glare, he suddenly fears that he might have been stupid when he was getting ready before arriving at the venue for the party tonight.

“You are not dressed,” Pierre drawls, “What are you wearing?”

“A suit?” Charles asks, confused as he looks at his friend’s attire. “What are you wearing?” 

Pierre points to the outfit he’s wearing, which consists of brown pants with a linen shirt and a brown vest thrown over it, an annoyed look washes over his face as he explains, “I’m Indiana Jones, this is a costume party, Charles.” 

“Why would you have a costume party when you’re turning 27?” Charles’ face scrunches up in even more confusion. 

“Because it’s fun, and it’s my birthday.” Pierre rolls his eyes, “We have to do something about it; Kika, I need help!” He calls out to her girlfriend, who rushes into the room in a white dress and a very voluminous blonde wig. 

“What’s wrong?” Kika asks, her eyes falling on Charles’ outfits as she groans disappointedly, “Who are you supposed to be?” 

“I didn’t know!” Charles argues. 

“Mate,” Pierre objects, “it was on the invitation; ‘Hollywood Icons’?” 

“We can fix this,” Kika tries to offer Charles a supportive smile. “You could be… Patrick Bateman?” 

Charles’ eyes widen with shock, “From ‘American Psycho’?”

“Morbid, Kiks,” Pierre shakes his head. 

Kika shrugs, “He’s hot. What about Brad Pitt in ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith’?”

“Does he even wear a suit in that one?” Pierre asks, still shaking his head in thought. 

Kika lets out a loud groan, “James Bond!”

“That could work–” Charles start saying at the same time Pierre objects, “The suit is not sharp enough.” 

“Then give him a tie, Pierre.” Kika frowns. “God, the two of you are like children, not even the girls had this much trouble, and the two of us almost matched.” 

You’re shivering when you finally arrive at the venue thanks to the thin trench coat thrown over your costume. You link your arm with Lily, who is holding Alex’s hand and the two of them are dressed up as Jack and Rose. “Why are we doing this, again?”

“Because we like Pierre, he is nice.” Lily turns to Alex to let him fix her ginger wig for her as she replies to you.

“I don’t know, I think I want to go back to the hotel.” You mumble, your hands nervously playing with the belt of your coat. 

“Just give it a try, Y/N,” Alex smiles at you. “We’ll take you back if you’re still feeling nervous.” 

You nod your head with a sigh as you let Lily pull you in towards the entrance of the apartment building. You’re too busy admiring the Italian architecture when you hear a squeal. “You guys made it!” Alex excuses himself to go greet some of the other drivers and you smile at Kika as she pulls you and Lily in for a hug at the same time as she chants, “I’m dying to see your guys’ costumes, show me, show me!”

You laugh softly as you take of your coat, pulling gasps from both of the girls looking over your outfit. “You both knew what my costume was going to be!” You whine, holding your coat close to your body. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be –” Lily starts, looking at Kika for help. 

“Tight,” Kika clears her throat, “it’s very tight, and your body looks amazing!” 

“You’re literally a model, Kiks,” you mumble, “can we please focus on Lily and how historically accurate her costume is? Not to mention yours, I mean, Marilyn?”

“You look amazing, Lily.” Kika agrees, giving her a warm smile. “And thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Kika,” she turns to you, “thank you, Y/N. I’m going to find Alex, meet you at the bar?” 

“Sure, see you.” You tell her, smiling as she starts to walk towards the crowd. 

“Let me take your coat,” Kika leans over you. “You should grab a drink before more people arrive, Pierre made sure to invite half of the city, it seems like.” 

You thank her before she leaves to hang your coat, taking a deep breath as you start moving between dancing people, some of whom greet you as you make your way towards the bar. You give the bar tender a tight smile as you order yourself a gin and tonic, strawberry, of course. The first thing Charles notices about you is your hair, having memorised all the different tones mixed between your locks. His eyes travels down your body, his eyes linger particularly on your dress; the white bodice is connected to the tie dye skirt by a metal circle, and it is oh so tight, accentuating all your curves in the best way possible. His legs start to move towards you in their own volition when his eyes reach the leather thigh-high boots, his voice is thick as he approach you from your right. “Y/N.” 

You look at him with your lips parted in shock, your voice coming out in a low breath. “Charles, you’re here.” You let him take one of your hands into his as you lock eyes with him. “I thought you were going to be in Monaco.” 

“I was already in Italy for the car testing.” He explains, his fingers gently caress your inner wrist. “I’ve missed you. Were you back at home?” 

“I’ve missed you too,” a smile takes over your face, “yes, I’m trying to get used to changing cities.” 

“I’ll give you a private tour when we go back.” He offers, eliciting a giggle from you as you reach for your drink and take a sip from the straw. His breath hitches for a moment when he focuses too much on the way your red-painted lips close around the plastic, but he’s quick to shake it off. “Did you see the pictures on Twitter?”

“The ones with Frédéric?” You ask him and he nods in return. The pictures he is referring to being his new team principle giving your four-year-old niece some daisies. There is a teasing smile on your lips as you say, “Don’t worry, Charles, I’m not coming for a Ferrari seat. He was just giving Cecily some flowers when we were passing by.” 

“I wish you would’ve brought her into the garage, I’ve missed her.” The pout he’s sporting lets you know that he is being genuine and not putting on a show for your attention. 

“You know I couldn’t, I had to get back to my own garage before the race.” The emphasis you use makes him roll his eyes as his fingers occupy themselves with the stacked bracelets on your wrist. “Who are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“James Bond.” He replies in an unattached voice, exhaling a deep breath. “I didn’t realise it was a costume party.”

“Charles,” you laugh, head tilted to the side as you keep holding his gaze, “it was on the invitation, darling.” 

He groans, “I know that, now. Pierre was not impressed when I first showed up.”

“I can imagine.” You agree in a sympathetic voice. “Maybe we should’ve thought of something before you left last week.”

“Oh, yeah, like what? Vivian?” He smirks, his eyes going over your body once more, but without any shame this time. “Do you have any idea how great you look?”

“It was the last movie we watched.” You shrug, a coy smile on your lips. “Maybe you could’ve been a ballerina, like Natalie Portman, in ‘Black Swan’.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh. “Oh please, you know how good my legs would look in tights compared to yours.” 

“Oh, chéri,” You tut, stepping closer to him as you rake your fingers down on his tie. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

“I would crush you.” He challenges as he lifts an eyebrow.

You shake your head. “You wouldn’t touch me.” 

“Why not?” He asks, amused. 

You shrug in a nonchalant manner. “Because you'd be too busy staring at me in tights.” 

“No I wouldn’t,” Charles argues, shaking his head slightly. 

“You’re doing it right now.” You sing in a light voice. 

“You’re not wearing any.” He points out, his hands moving to rest on the bare skin of your waist, curtesy of the cut-outs your dress provides. 

You tug on his tie to draw him closer to you, his lips lingering near his ear as you whisper, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He is left speechless when you let him go, grab your drink and start walking towards your teammate, making sure to add an extra sway to your hips because you know Charles is watching you to confirm what you’ve just told him. 

You have a secret, and it’s big – big, huge. And it has something to do with the Monegasque laying beneath you. Charles talks about the last few days he spent at the Ferrari factory as you listen to him, your eyes focused on the way his face moves through various expressions when he talks about the car. Your chin is placed on your hands which are placed together on his chest, giving you the perfect view of his face. His fingers are moving on the bare skin on your back, the white bed sheet pulled up only enough to cover the globe of your ass. Although you try your best to keep up with his stream of consciousness, humming where accurate and asking him questions here and there, but Charles can see the sleepy look in your eyes through your hooded eyes. 

“Are you okay, mon soleil?” He asks, his chest rumbling with his voice underneath your hands. 

“Sleepy,” you mumble, leaning up against him to bury your face against the side of his neck, “you’re warm, though.” 

He pulls the sheet up your body; interpreting the way you shiver as you being cold, when the actual reason is the pleasure the skin to skin contact brings. “You can go back to sleep; we still have some time.” The incoherent mumbles leaving your lips makes him chuckle, which in return makes you smile against him. Your fingers trace over the edge of his five o’clock shadow, and you suddenly find yourself thanking whatever deity is up there that he forgot to shave because of all the commotion of travelling over the past few days. “What did you just say?”

“It’s just funny that you tell me I should sleep after you’ve kept me up the entire night, darling.” Your breathy chuckle hits the side of his neck as he lets out a chuckle of his own. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining at any point,” he raises one of  his brows, earning him a pat against his chest and you making yourself rise enough to glare at him. 

You try your best to frown at him, locking your gaze with his, as you can feel the heat starting to rise up to your face at the mention of your not so innocent activities of last night. “You’re incorrigible, Charles.” 

“Oh, chérie,” he coos, brushing the pad of his thumb over the swell of your cupids-bow. You’re about to give in and give him a kiss when he rises up, himself, with a frown and you in his arms. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask in a worried voice, following his line of vision to your closed bedroom door. 

“Does anyone else have your keys?” Charles asks, “I heard the front door open–”

Your eyes widen as you scramble to get off him, pulling the sheet up to cover your nakedness. “Charles, hide!” You hiss, while trying to force him to move. 

“Y/N?” You hear your assistant, Margo, yell through the house. “I got those thermal things you wanted!” 

“One second, please!” You call back to her, looking at Charles with pleading eyes. Thankfully, he manages to hide underneath the sheets just before Margo barges into the room. Even more luckily, the duvet over the sheets ends up hiding his body seamlessly. “Hi, Margo.” You give her the best smile you can muster up under the situation, your hand still clutching the bedsheet on your chest with enough force to make your hand hurt. 

“Oh my god, are you naked under there?” Margo babbles, a light blush covering her cheeks. “Since when do you sleep naked?”

“Um… I heard it’s good for your circulation?” You answer her in an unsure voice, causing Charles to tighten his hands on your thighs in warning, you have no idea how he managed to squeeze between them in the first place. “Thank you for the thermals, you’re an angel.”

“N-no problem.” She smiles at you nervously, obviously stressed because of the lack of clothes on your body for the sake of professionalism. “Toto wanted me to tell you that he is meeting up with Lewis for lunch later and asked me to ask you to join them if you were free.” 

“Sure, do you know wh-when?” You stutter during the last word, feeling Charles’ fingers and breath coming closer to your center. 

Margo checks her watch, then looks back up at you. “Around three, at that Italian place the team went out for dinner the last time.” 

You nod in acknowledgement as you try the remember the exact location of the restaurant she mentioned, gasping because Charles decides to give your clit a little lick before taking it between his lips to gently suck on it. “I’ll be there!��� You rush out, hands gripping the white sheet even tighter. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Margo asks while eyeing you up with worry, “Should I take you to a doctor, or something?” 

“Oh no, I’m fine, honey.” You wave her off with a nervous chuckle. “I think it’s all in your – head!”

“Um.. okay. I’ll see you later, then.” Margo mumbles as she leaves your room with red cheeks. 

You throw your head back in a groan over the awkward encounter, waiting until hearing the front door open and close before pulling the sheets back and glaring at the man between your thighs, who still has his mouth on you, by the way. “You are evil, Charles, pure evil! What were you thinking?” 

He draws back slightly to raise a questioning brow. “Do you want me to stop?” However, he resumes his torture when you don’t answer him, looking up at you while grinning like the devil himself as he murmurs into your skin, “That’s what I thought.”

It’s hard, being a woman in the motorsport world, and especially in F1. While some may say it’s unprecedented, and you’d agree, you also think there’s going to be misogynistic pigs in any sector you might end up working in, so why not have some fun? The article comes out the day before the race, right before the qualifying session. You’re not the one to check your phone before going on track, but an urge to do so pokes at you when you realise people are giving you worried looks in the Mercedes garage. Your jaw tightens as you read through the article, fingers tightening around your phone as you read every single sexist comment being made about the way you dress, talk, and your entire F1 career and accomplishments being discredited just because of your gender. You’re absolutely fuming as you throw your phone onto the couch in your driver’s room and grab your helmet and balaclava as you walk briskly towards the garage. 

Both Toto and Lewis look at you with surprised, but worried, looks as you announce, “Make me go out first.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Toto asks, sharing a worried glance with Lewis. “You usually wait for a while for other people to–.” 

“No, I’m sure.” You tug on your balaclava as you add, “Make sure I’m on softs, please.” 

The two men watch you walk off towards your car, Lewis mumbling, “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned.” The Austrian turns to him, eyebrows raised, which causes him to roll his eyes. “Yes, Toto, I read.”

You’re a force to be reckoned with on track during qualifying. Although having not the best start to the season, you push your Mercedes to its absolute limits, managing to outpace even the Red Bulls, and constantly asking your engineer for another lap until Toto has to ask you to retire for the day – in long story short, you are the pole sitter for the Sunday’s race. There are four people waiting for you when you get out of your car, those four people being: Toto, Susie, Lewis and Mick – though you’re pretty sure the latter was dragged into this intervention because you’re usually unable to get angry next to the reserve driver. 

“You were reckless out there, Y/N.” Toto frowns, crossing his arms over his chest (Mick copies his actions, nodding, as he does his best to give you a stern look). 

“I drove the best I have in over a year,” you argue, “we are starting on P1 tomorrow because of my driving today.” 

“I don’t care if we start P20, you know you shouldn’t have gone out there that angry!” Susie places a pacifying hand on your team principle’s arm when his voice gets higher. 

“We know you were angry about the article,” Lewis starts, but you cut him off as you grumble,

“A very astute conversation, Lewis.” You snap, not allowing him to continue as you begin ranting, “He called me a ‘Malibu Barbie’, and suggested that I should find another career, do you know how disheartening that is?”

“They called me Ken once,” Mick mumbles with a small pout on his lips, quickly mumbling “sorry,” when you give him a scathing look. 

“There will always be journalists who are against you and me,” Lewis goes on to remind you, “I told that before you signed, and before your first race.” 

“I know, but–” You stop to swallow down a sob, tilting your head back to delay the tears which are threatening to come out. “They implied that I’ve slept my way up to where I am today,” you inhale a deep breath as your voice wavers, “I’m so tired of my accomplishments being reduced to this.” 

“Men will always be afraid of women who have the ability to be better at their jobs than they are,” Susie smiles softly at you – soft, but not pitiful, you realise. “It doesn’t mean that we should give up, it means that we do our best to make sure they are proved wrong.” 

“You could’ve hurt yourself and others today,” Toto shakes his head, “you almost collided with both of the Ferraris.” 

Your entire break pauses at the mention of the red cars, mind quickly drifting to the owner of the eyes you love looking into, but you’re quick to snap yourself out, “Are they okay?”

“Both Carlos and Charles are fine,” Susie assures you.

“No more reckless driving,” Toto points a finger at you and then to Lewis, who raises his arms in surrender. “I mean it.” He pats you on the back before leaving, whispering a quick, “Good job today, kiddo.” 

“Why do I get in trouble because of you?” Lewis wonders aloud, his hands on his hips. 

“We haven’t been teammates for that long, Lewis.” You squint your eyes. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Mick asks with a concerned look on his face. 

You nod in thought, pointed to both of them. “I will be, but I need both of your help.” 

Mick gulps, voice tentative as he asks, “We’re not doing anything illegal, are we?”

After you’re done explaining your plan to your teammates, you say goodbye to both of them and make your way towards your driver’s room. Charles gets up, quickly, from the couch as you enter, shocked expressions on both of your faces. “H-how did you get in here?”

“I had to sneak in through the back,” he explains as he gets closer to you, hands quickly cup your cheek for his thumbs to swipe under your eyes. “Chérie, did you cry?”

“I- no!” You shake your head as you try to get him off. “I’m just- ugh, I’m just so angry!”

He lets you rant in his arms, eventually giving in and shedding a few tears of frustration, but he doesn’t comment until you’re done with your thoughts, and when he does comment, it is not to undermine your feelings. He takes you back to the hotel, and before the two of you leave your garage, he sneaks a soft kiss on your lips which has you melting in his arms. Unbeknown to you, Susie, Toto and Lewis watch the interaction from the other end of the corridor, with the latter murmuring, “Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.” Lewis gives Toto a side-eye as the team principle looks at him with the same surprised look from before, “For the last time, man, I read!”

All the eyes in the car are on you, the next morning when you, Mick and Lewis arrive to the track in the same car. “You ready to leave?” Lewis asks you, looking at you from the rear-view mirror from the passenger seat; Mick drove to the track instead of you because you told them both there was no way you were driving with the heels you wore today. 

“It’s now or never,” you mutter, subconsciously fixing your hair.

“Give them hell.” Mick turns back to smile at you, and you give him a nervous smile as you exit the car. 

A few people around the entrance turn to give you funny looks, you reply to some of them by offering a thin-lipped smile. The real show starts when you finally enter the racing grounds, photographers turning to snap a picture of you when they realise it’s actually you. You plaster on a plastic smile, waving at them as you do your absolute best to walk in the 6-inch heels which were definitely not the brightest idea you’ve ever had.

“Hi, Barbie!” A similar voice calls out to you, and you smile genuinely for the first time as you call back. ,

“Hi, Ken!” You turn towards Pierre, pushing your sunglasses up towards your hair as you watch the Frenchman walk towards you with Carlos and Charles behind him. 

“Please tell me it’s a wig,” Carlos frowns, his eyes lingering on your suddenly platinum hair. 

“I’m having fun as a blonde, Carlos.” You shrug innocently, your arms crossing over your chest, and the pink dress you’ve decided to wear for the occasion. 

Pierre nods in support, “Blondes do have more fun, Carlos.” 

“I- Why?” Carlos asks, not getting the joke shared between you and Pierre. “I don’t understand.” 

“Fine, no soup for you, then.” You mumble rolling your eyes. However, your eyes widen when you realise he genuinely doesn’t get the reference. “Seriously- Carlos, it’s from Seinfeld.” 

“I’ve never watched it.” He admits, his frown still prominent on his face. 

“It’s okay, mate,” Pierre assures him taking him away to explain the joke to him, which leaves you and Charles alone. 

You turn to Charles with a coy smile on your face. “You like the new look?”

“I- but, when?” He asks you, more confused then ever. “You were not blonde when I left last night.”

“Mick bought the dye for me.” You explain, trying to supress a grin. “We stayed up all night trying to bleach my hair.” 

“You stayed up all night?” Charles asks, more concerned now that he learns that you didn’t have a good night’s sleep. “That’s so wrong, mon soleil, why did you do it? Is it about the article? Of course, it is.” 

“Charles, calm down, darling.” You place a hand on his chest, even though you’re hyperaware of the fact that both of you are out in the open. “I’m just going to prove something, alright? I feel fine.” 

“You should’ve slept.” Charles frowns, taking a deep breath. “Are you sure you feel good enough to be in a car?”

You nod excitedly. “Positive, I have a race to win. And wait until you see what Lewis and I are going to wear.” 

“I can’t wait, chérie.” 

Just as you promised Charles, you win the race. Your pace is even better than the previous day, but instead of being fuelled by anger, you are fuelled by determination to win. Your engineers play Aqua’s Barbie Girl as a surprise, and to make things even better, Lewis and you stand on the podium in a Mercedes 1-2 in your matching pink helmets and shoes – even Toto donned pink glasses for the occasion. Charles lets out a hearty laugh alongside you on the podium when he sees your outfits. Yeah, you decide in that moment, this one is for the girls.

You and Charles’ relationship happened so unexpectedly, but that doesn’t mean that you regret a secret moment of it. It all started when you were moving to Monte Carlo at the end of last year’s season, and Charles was the only one available to help you in the process – not that you asked him of course, he offered you to help because he is a gentleman like that. It didn’t take the both of you long enough to go on dates as you spent more and more time together, and it was a natural transition to both of you dating each other exclusively. Despite what you expected, the first time Charles actually kissed you was on a cliff overlooking the entirety of Monte Carlo, the view was beautiful, but you were still apprehensive because of your location on the cliff. So, being the gentleman he is, Charles offered to hold you, and that’s when he decided to kiss you. 

Lewis comes back to the table after taking a phone call as he apologises, “Sorry, I was on the phone; long distance.”

“God?” You ask him, mockingly nodding, which makes George and Carmen laugh.

“London,” Lewis clarifies as he gives you a questioning look. 

You gasp as you ask. “God lives in London?” 

“No, my mother in lives in London.” Lewis replies in the calmest voice he can muster. 

“You mother is God?” You ask right back, without the appearance of joking. Your small discussion grabs the attention of other drivers and couples as the two of you continue bickering. 

“Y/N,” Lewis tries to warn you, but you continue on with your rant. 

Leaning towards Charles, Alex and Lily who are seated close together, you announce, “So, God is a woman.” 

“Y/N!” Lewis groans this time. 

“And my teammates mother, it’s so cool! I’m definitely going to ask for strategy points for the next season.” 

The table shares a laugh as you and Lewis continue bickering back and forth, eliciting laughs from people who watch you with amusement. Eventually, Pierre clears his throat. “Okay, what is everyone’s plans for the break?” he asks, trying to look over the long table. 

“Isa and I are off to Mallorca,” Carlos announces as she presses a sweet kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m going back home,” Yuki shrugs. 

“I’m going to see Chloe and Scotty,” Lance mumbles, “and probably Daniel, too.” 

Everyone goes around to announce their plans for the break, but when it comes to you and Charles, you are nervous as you announce, “I’m just going to stay home, get to know the city, you know?”

“Yeah, same.” Charles nods, thinking he got away with his evasive answer. 

“You’re going to get to know the city you were born and raised in?” Fernando asks with a knowing smirk. 

“You can always find new things if you know where to look,” Charles replies in a serious tone, trying to appear stern as he nods to strengthen his point. You’re busy squeezing his hand under the table to death. 

“Yeah, like what?” Max asks, which earns him a slap on the arm from Kelly. “What? I’m curious.” 

“Like, umm, like-like cafés, and bookshops, and you know those little stores which sell souvenirs but not the generic kind?” He rambles, trying to think of more examples. 

“Okay that’s enough,” Lewis cuts him off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “We all know the two of you are dating. The entire grid, and engineers, and probably most of the team principles.” 

“What?” You laugh nervously, trying to shrug him off. “Don’t be stupid.” 

“Yeah, we are not dating.” Charles shakes his head, his octave going up as he receives looks from people around the table. “We are not!”

“Drop the act, it’s disgusting the way you two look at each other.” Checo complains from the other side of the table. 

“Yeah, and I can see him doing stuff to your hand under the table.” Lance winces. 

“He is not doing stuff to my hand under the table!” You squeal, but Charles is too busy trying to contain his laughter next to you. “Is this funny to you, Charles?” 

“I mean, a little bit,” Charles confirms, finally succumbing to his laugher, “we have nothing to hide now, chérie.”

“I knew it!” Pierre exclaims, “I told you I saw them together at my birthday!” He tells his girlfriend. 

“Toto and I saw them kissing after quali,” Lewis shrugs. 

You gasp as you turn towards him. “You did not!”

“Yes we did,” Lewis argues, “even Susie saw.” 

Charles pulls you towards himself, still laughing over people arguing whether they saw you together over the past year or not, as he wraps your arms around your shoulder, you murmur to him, “I am so crashing next to him next year, Daniel style.” You take a pause to think, “No, Mazepin style.”

“Maybe not crash into your teammate for the sake of poor Toto, mon soleil.” 

You let out an unsatisfied grumble as you hear Alex complain to Lily, “Why didn’t she tell me? I thought we were best friends!” You groan and look around the table at all the people around you, who are all surprisingly supportive of your relationship, you smile as you press a soft kiss to Charles’ lips. 

He grins as he asks, “What was that for?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, “I just think you’re pretty cool.” 

“I think you’re pretty cool, too, my love.” He mumbles and gives you another kiss despite few groans coming from around the table. 

[frozenjokes]

I Need [You] [To Be] A Hero! (1/2)

note: this is a pretty direct sequel to this fic, but can probably also be read on its own. wouldn’t recommend it though. ALSO. there is a misunderstanding involving domestic abuse in this fic, when in reality nothing has actually happened. still, if that makes you uncomfortable I would definitely skip.

next

It was safe to say Scar was freaking out a little. Grian, Cub’s roommate who he had never met before, not even as HotGuy, was in his house experiencing some sort of mental health crisis- what the fuck was happening?

His first impulse was to call Cub- of course that was what he wanted to do, but Cub had made it quite clear he was not happy with HotGuy right now, and Grian had been adamant that he couldn’t go home- that there was no one Scar could call who could help.

But when Grian woke up the next day, not leaving his room until the early afternoon, Scar didn't want to tell Cub anything at all. Grian’s face was all sorts of fucked, bruised to all hell, and Scar didn’t remember seeing bruises last night, but it was dark and he had been tipsy- Though, Grian had been wearing quite a heavy amount of makeup, which he seemed to have washed off now.. Oh god. Grian didn’t want to talk about what had happened, and Scar didn’t want to push, but he was suddenly quite worried about what was hidden under the sleeves of his sweater. Grian hadn’t wanted to be touched last night either- fuck.

Scar didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. Though, he got his answer pretty quick when HotGuy’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, his heart sinking at a text from Cub.

‘Have you seen CuteGuy at all? Last night? Important.’

What did he want to know about CuteGuy? Suspicion curled in his gut, but maybe that was just anger, or hurt, or any number of emotions turning his stomach. He hadn’t, obviously. He hadn’t been working last night.

‘No, but I need to talk to you. Meet me for lunch, same place, or anywhere that’s easiest for you. 2:00.’

‘I’ll be there. Is something wrong?’

Scar could only frown at the message, staring for too long before leaving it unanswered, dropping his phone back in his pocket.

“Hey, Grian, I have to meet someone for work. I’m going to lunch, and I can bring you something back if you want. Could be a while, but I grabbed a few things from the grocery store, so you can make yourself something if you don’t want to wait. Doesn’t matter either way, just text me. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.”

“Okay,” Grian mumbled, looking just as miserable as he sounded. He never looked up from his phone, scrolling aimlessly with lidded eyes. The sight broke Scar’s damn heart.

“Try and eat something, alright?”

“Okay.” Just about as noncommittal as it gets. Well. He would make sure Grian got dinner at least.

Scar wasn’t used to being unable to change in this house, but it wasn’t too big of a deal. He stopped by his hospital instead, the one that would glue him back together whenever needed, and changed there, leaving behind the bits of his disguise to pick up later. It wasn’t much, just the wig and the clothes he was wearing, but it still took a bit of time to fix his hair, adjust his makeup- just getting into his uniform could be a chore sometimes, especially when his prosthetics were deciding to be difficult- he was going to have to get those repaired again soon. A problem for another day.

By the time everything was said and done, he was a bit late, though he didn’t feel very bad. Cub deserved to squirm a bit as far as Scar was concerned, but he did try and hurry it up regardless.

And squirming he was.

Cub was a complete nervous wreck when Scar managed to arrive and sit down, which was reasonable, all things considered, but Scar was glad for it. He should be nervous.

“Uh, hi,” Cub spoke before Scar could, “I had a question, actually, I mean, I know you’re a superhero and that’s your thing, but are you- do you arrest people? Is that a thing you do? I couldn’t really find any answers online, I wasn’t sure.” Cub fidgeted with his hands when Scar frowned, almost aggressively avoiding eye contact.

“Why? Have you committed any crimes?” Scar couldn’t help himself from shooting back, the anger crawling beneath his skin getting the better of him.

“Uh,” Cub paused for what had to be an abnormal amount of time, “No. Just curious.”

“Just curious? Well no, most of the time, not really. My job isn’t to take people into custody, just to stop them from hurting other people or damaging anyone’s property. Our police force is a bit pathetic though, if you haven’t noticed, so most of the time our villains don’t really stay in jail.”

“You’re upset with me.” Cub said the words like facts, which they were, and stared. Scar stared right back.

“I think ‘upset’ is the wrong word here.”

“If this is about that fight with you and CuteGuy, I don’t think you have any right to be unhappy with me. That was stupid, you were both being stupid, and someone could have gotten hurt. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out or anything, but things have been bad at home, and I didn’t have the time or energy to talk, so some patience would be appreciated.”

“For goodness’ sake, I’m not mad about the fight.”

“Then why- I don’t care. I don’t have time for this. I- I need help. Someone I know did- has been doing some really bad things, and I want to help him, but I just don’t know how, and he ran off and he’s not answering his calls and-“

“Someone you know, huh?”

“Yes- What is wrong with you? Why are you acting so shitty?”

“I want to know what you did to Grian.”

“Wh-“ Cub stopped short, freezing completely, “What I- Scar, have you seen him? Is he okay? Is he safe? Do you know where he is? I don’t- What do you think I did?”

“I don’t think he feels safe at home, Cub. He’s got all sorts of bruises where people don’t just get bruises.”

Silence. Scar’s frown deepened, while all Cub could seem to do was gape.

“Oh fuck, Scar, I did not- Scar, this is a huge misunderstanding, I have not hurt Grian, I need you to believe me- I need your help.”

“I don’t believe you, actually.”

“Scar, Grian is CuteGuy.” For the first time, Scar saw the fear behind Cub’s eyes, the desperation in his voice; for the first time, Scar stopped completely short. When Cub was sure he was listening, he continued, “I found out when he met me in that parking lot. I didn’t recognize him immediately with the outfit and the covers over his wings and- I think he paints his flight feathers? But I figured it out pretty damn fast, and he’s- Grian has always had issues, Scar, like, major issues, but he’s- he’s not- he just doesn’t have good outlets, I don’t really think he actually wants to hurt people!”

Oh.

“I..” Scar dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his forehead, “I hit him. I did that.”

“You did do that! You almost shot him-!” Cub stopped, taking a breath, then laying his hands over his temples for a moment before letting them hit the table, “I don’t care. It was stupid, but I don’t care. I just want him to be okay. Is he safe? Where did he end up? I didn’t see anything on the news, but him not being CuteGuy doesn’t- he can have these really intense reactions to bad stuff happening, even little stuff sometimes, it’s- I promise you he’s trying, I know he’s trying.” There was so much pain there, so much, and Scar had to wonder if Cub knew the extent of what Grian had done, or if he even cared at all. Even Scar wasn’t sure, now that he really thought about it. He.. would have to check later.

“He’s safe. He’s at my, uh, a friend’s house. Found him at a bar, being.. I think intense is the right word. He said he couldn’t go home, and needed a place to stay.”

“Oh god. Was he drinking?”

“I don’t.. think so. Friend was pretty concerned, but Grian insisted he was sober. Took him home before that changed.”

“Oh, good. Good,” Cub sighed, head falling back into his hands, and Scar swore he felt Cub’s relief in his soul. “Could I.. get this friend’s number? I don’t know if I should try and see Grian yet, I really don’t want him to run again, but I just want to make sure everything is okay. I don’t- I have no idea what to do here, I really don’t, I’m just.. really grateful.” Cub paused, then sat up suddenly, “You won’t arrest him, will you? Please don’t. He’s already had to serve some time for repeated offenses, and he’s so much worse when he gets out, it won’t work, it won’t help him-“

“I’m not going to arrest him, Cub. And yeah, let me text you his number.” Scar grabbed HotGuy’s phone to do just that, fumbling a bit as he erased the name off the contact.

“Thank you,” Cub heaved a massive sigh, deflating, “It’s hard enough to get him working again as it is. Customer service isn’t an option- you think I’m bad, woof. It’s not an option.”

“I don’t think you’re bad!”

Cub snorted. “That’s sweet.”

“I don’t!”

“You were barely through the door before I said something rude, then had a complete autism panic attack in the back room. That was particularly bad.”

“Okay, but the thing you said about my legs was hilarious- oh is that what that was?”

Cub paused for a moment, then shook his head, teeth poking out behind his smile, and Scar felt himself fall back in love all over again, “Yeah man, I get it rough sometimes. Thought you knew, honestly.”

“People react in so many different ways to seeing me, getting helped by me, or thinking they’ve embarrassed themselves in front of me that I’ve literally seen it all. I’ve just stopped asking questions.”

“Hey, cheers to that, man.” Cub checked his phone when it buzzed, though had a small moment of confusion that Scar had already anticipated before he shared the contact. “What’s your friend’s name again?”

“Not my place to share, I’m afraid. He’s a tricky guy, really paranoid about the fae and names, so you’ll have to ask him what he wants you to call him. I’ll give him a heads up that you're contacting him, so it’ll be fine. If it’s easier, Grian calls him Micah. For ease of access, he might let you call him the same name, but he’s been known to be.. difficult. Very nice though, just a little odd about some things. You should see his house, it’s all decked out in iron trims and’s got these funky chains everywhere? His front and backyard is all pavement, it’s nuts. I mean, I guess you will see it eventually, won’t you? Maybe.” Scar found himself rambling, suddenly very afraid of being found out. Grian did a pretty shit job at hiding his identity- the voice thing in particular, why did he do that? And if they’ve been friends for years, why did Grian even go near Cub in the first place? REGARDLESS. Clearly Cub had a pretty good intuition, so Scar would greatly prefer if he and Not HotGuy also known as Scar also known as Micah never met.

“Oh. Cool.” Cub looked kind of amused for some reason, but Scar didn’t get the chance to try and puzzle the expression out before he spoke again, “Hey, that’s a different mask, right? Any reason?”

“Oh! Yeah! This is the one I wear when I break my nose, since it doesn’t really cover it like the other one does. Well, CuteGuy broke it actually, but you understand. It’s.. a relatively common occurrence for me.”

“Ah, you know, I thought your nose looked a little crooked, but it’s always been kind of crooked, so I wasn’t quite sure. But that makes sense to me. ‘S cute.”

Scar’s brain stopped working. “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.” Cub smiled, and Scar felt his face heating up, and Cub laughed, fuck, what a delightful sound, “You silly thing,” Cub sighed, and Scar had no idea what that meant, but he wanted to know, he wanted to know so bad, he leaned over the table, waiting for Cub to say more, to say more right now, but Cub’s eyes were closed, sitting back in his chair contentedly.

Cub did not say more, and neither could Scar when their waitress arrived at the table, the same lady from before, looking positively frightened for some reason.

“Are.. you two ready to order?”

[maleficentmrsofallevil]

Hodge podge

Feeling better, but not paint a room better, so still working through stuff that's been hanging around the house.

I am finally finally going through the fabric hoard I inherited, and man, have I found some gems, including a gallon plastic bag full of silk (!) remnants, a vintage big suitcase full of yarn (acrylic, cotton, wool, and even some angora), and a ton of notions I didn't realize I owned. Cool beans.

Here's a close-up of the disintegrating pleather Switch-a-Witch top:

The skirt is just as bad.

Around *mumble mumble* years ago, I scored a human hair bob wig for $5 at a thrift store. I was a little surprised to see it - I figured those are rare (and pricey), and normally you would gift something like that to someone else. I think it's for a kid, cuz it was dirty. There was pink stuff that looked like gum or chewy candy in it, and the hair was coarse and grungy.

After a brief internet search ("how to wash a human hair wig"), I gently combed out the worst of the tangles, ignored the recommendation to buy specialty wig shampoo, squirted some Pantene Pro-V 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner into a bowl of lukewarm water, put the wig in, and gently squeezed the soapy water through the hair. The water turned a shade of brown that made me queasy.

I rinsed, gently squeezed out excess water, wrapped in a towel to get the wig to damp instead of dripping wet, and then used a silicone-loaded conditioner all over it. I rubbed the conditioner into the hair with my fingers for a few minutes while watching a movie, and then back into the bowl it went for another rinse, squeeze, and towel-dry.

The next thing the instructions said to do was let the wig dry on a wig stand. I don't have a wig stand. I do have a Xin Meng Doll Magical Angel Iris, so I stuck a microfiber cloth over her head and put the wig on top to finish drying. She didn't complain, so I figure it was a decent hack.

Rainbow High combs have teeth too close together (they kept pulling out hair), so I used a Fail Fix brush to smooth out the hair. I like it:

But also, I now know why it was donated instead of gifted. The wefts are super thin. If you don't have the hair styled just so, you can see straight through the wefts to the cap underneath. Imagine trying to convince a kid to keep their wig styled just so. Yeah. I'd have donated it too.

I think I'm going to Jayne Mansfield it and use some basting stitches to tack it to the other wig underneath. There's a LOT of space between wefts, and the cap underneath is a mesh, so I might try tying on some plastic hair to add more color, too.

I looked into doll knitting, and I found a suggestion I want to try: shrink the weight of the yarn and knitting needle gauge from human to the scale of doll you want. So if a human gauge sweater is (I don't know if this is right) 16 stitches over 10 cm, to make a 1/3 scale version, smaller needles and finer yarn would result in 48 stitches per 10 cm for a 1/3 scale doll (16 x 3), 64 stitches per 10 cm for a 1/4 scale doll (16 x 4), etc.

Turns out you can get all sorts of free people knitting patterns with lots of colors and designs from places that sell yarn. They want to sell yarn, and if you want to convince someone they need to buy something, well...

Kitty. (Free pullover sweater pattern from Lion Brand yarn company) You can oh-so-conveniently choose your size and order all the yarn you need for a person. That's some clever marketing, Lion Brand.

[grizzlyofthesea]

Halloween Progress Report #4: Main Outfit

I've made significant progress on my costume within the past week!

The shorts got here on Wednesday, and the tights (along with the wig) arrived the following day. They look similar to these.

I'm think I'm going to cut the tights above the knee so they look like Lagoona's fishnet legging things (although I could keep the lower half and paint/dye it turquoise for a "scale" effect on my legs). As for the shorts, I used a couple of my glitter pens to give them some sparkle.

The swimsuit is going to take a bit more extensive DIY-ing, but I think I can do it.

I ordered a black leotard and some pink scale-print fabric. I'm going to sew the pink onto the leotard under the bust.

Now, one of the most important parts of any Monster High outfit is the shoes. Lagoona's iconic platform sandals were included in the YRU collaboration, but (1) they're super expensive, and (2) they've been out of stock for a long time.

Good thing we basically have YRU at home. These surprisingly durable monstrosities are made of Styrofoam and duct tape, with ribbons as bases for the straps. I've done a lap around my house with them, and they're serviceable. They should hopefully be easy to fix, too, if something happens to them.

And the hoodie? My mom let me use an old jacket that she doesn't wear anymore. I'm spray-painting it turquoise (it's black by default), then drawing on the scale pattern with a marker and sticking some foam fins onto the hood. I may try to run it through the washing machine a couple of times to soften it (before the foam fins, of course), since the paint has made it stiff.

I'm so excited! This is my biggest, most elaborate Halloween costume ever.

[foundtherightwords]

Love in a Storm - Chapter 8

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham (Regency AU)

Summary: A devastating loss threatens the happy marriage of Edward and Christine Munson, Lord and Lady Hurtsfield. However, when Edward is accused of a crime he didn't commit, Christine has to set her grief aside and embark on a perilous journey to prove her husband's innocence.

Warnings: childbirth, stillbirth, infertility, angst, false accusation, wrongful imprisonment, legal drama, some violence (non-graphic), some smut (non-explicit)

Chapter warnings: non-explicit sex

A/N: This was my first attempt to write a courtroom scene! I learned a lot during my research for it (such as the fact that British judges don't use a gavel). Also, the Old Bailey transcripts of the actual Cato Street Conspiracy trials are a Godsend, as I took a lot of Robert Adams' testimonies from them.

Chapter word count: 3.9k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

Chapter 8

The Old Bailey was so packed with spectators that the cab had to drop Christine and Owens a long way off from the main building, and Owens had to elbow his way through the crowd to get Christine inside. The pavement was swamped with boys selling broadsides printed with every detail of the conspiracy and the trials of the previous days. One of them ran up to Christine and offered her a pamphlet, and was met with such a withering glance from Owens that he ducked his head and quickly ran off.

The courtroom was a hive of activity, as clerks hurried back and forth on the floor below and spectators squeezed into their seats in the gallery above. A brief hush fell over the gallery as Christine sat down and removed her hood, revealing a velvet turban decorated with bright blue feathers. It was actually her mother's, left behind when she moved to Naples. Christine herself never wore something so flamboyant; she only wanted Edward to be able to pick her out amongst the crowd. A woman behind Christine huffed loudly, "With the money one paid for this seat, one would expect to see something!" Christine's cheeks burned, but she reminded herself she wasn't here to cater to the morbidly curious, who watched the trials as avidly as they did the latest drama in a West End playhouse. She was here for Edward. So she squared her shoulder and fixed her eyes on the floor below, ignoring the irritated murmurs around her.

The presiding judge was Lord Chief Justice Abbot, an old man with a stony, humorless face. Even from this distance, Christine could see the disapproval on the judge's face as he glanced at Murray, who looked more like an owl than ever in his crooked wig and gown. Before she could feel concerned about what this might mean for the trial, the murmuring rose again, and her attention was drawn to a door in a corner, where Edward was being led into the courtroom.

Christine leaned forward, hands gripping the banister in front of her, trying to take in everything about him, to fill that void he'd left in her during all those weeks they were apart. He was no longer in chains, thank God. And it looked like he had been shaved, washed, and changed into the clothes she'd sent. His hair was still too long, reaching his shoulders now, and he was thin, oh so thin! It wrenched her heart to see his features standing out sharply on his face and the dark smudges under his eyes. But at least he looked respectable, a gentleman. Hopefully, it would count for something in the eye of the jury. Even as she thought this, however, she was well aware that the other prisoners could not afford such privileges, and felt a jab at her conscience.

Edward was put to the dock. He turned toward the gallery and locked eyes with her. His mouth quirked up in that familiar smile that went straight through her heart. That smile told her everything that he couldn't say in his letters, everything that he couldn't speak in words. That smile said to her I'm here, sweetheart. Be brave. Be strong. I shall always be here. It was only for a brief moment, and then he turned to face the judge again, and Christine knew that look and that smile would have to sustain her for the rest of the trial.

The jury was sworn in, and the trial began. Christine hardly registered what was being said, so intent she was on watching Edward. He remained composed and expressionless while the Attorney General, a middle-aged man with a thin mouth and fussy manners, stated the case to the jury. He didn't look guilty or indignant. If Christine hadn't known him so well, she would've missed a slight hardening of his face, a tightening of his jaws, as the charges were read. He must be boiling with anger inside, and she was proud of him for maintaining a calm, dignified exterior.

The same could not be said for Murray. He moved about in front of the witness's box, waving his arms like a windmill and punctuating his questions with wild gestures. At first, Christine was exasperated by his theatrical performance, but as the witnesses stammered under his scrutiny, she started to understand his tactics. It was just as Edward had said; Murray sought to confuse the witnesses so he could catch them unawares and point out the holes in their testimonies. And he was witty, Christine had to give him that. More than once he set the crowd chuckling and had to be sternly reminded to stick to the procedures by the Lord Chief Justice.

After several witnesses had testified about the shooting of the police spy, Benson, and the fact that Benson had indeed been assigned to watch the Cato Street party, the star witness, Robert Adams, was called to the box. Despite knowing he was going to speak out against her husband, Christine couldn't help feeling sorry for him. He was a stooped, pitiful little man, with thinning, graying hair plastered to his head, a timid face, made all the more timid by the prominence of his ears, and the same vacant eyes as his wife's. In a small voice, he told of how the conspirators had found money to buy arms for their coup.

"Thistlewood said I might buy a pistol for 4 or 5 shillings; I said I had no money to buy pistols with, he said he would see what could be done. Later, he told me that there was a gentleman's servant who had supplied some of the party with money, and he said if they would act upon the subject he would give a great deal more. He repeated it more than once or twice." He said all this quickly, without emotion, as if by rote, confirming Murray's theory that he had been coached.

"Did you ever go with Thistlewood to get this money?" the Attorney General asked.

"No, but Thistlewood once came back from Hanover Square with the money, which he gave to Bradburn to purchase ferrules to put on the staves."

"Hanover Square, Lord Hurstfield's place of residence?"

A moment's hesitance, then Adams said, with a nod, "Yes."

"And did Thistlewood ever tell you the name of this servant or this gentleman?"

Adams shifted in his seat, saying, "I don't... I don't recall."

"Think, Mr. Adams. Such a generous gentleman, and you or any of the other men never thought to ask who he is, or why he would give you money to harm his own peer?"

Christine could hear displeased muttering amongst the crowd around her. Such a question, in any other case, could be seen as a clear example of leading the witness and the lawyer would be condemned for it, yet here the judge was turning a deaf ear.

Adams licked his lips. His eyes, like those of a frightened animal, flicked toward Edward, before he said, "Thistlewood might have said the name... Edward."

Christine shut her eyes briefly so she didn't have to look at the smug expression on the face of the Attorney General as he settled down, apparently satisfied with Adams's testimony. Now it was Murray's turn to cross-examine the witness.

"Are you sure it was Edward?" the barrister asked. "Not Munson, or Hurstfield, but Edward?"

"It might have been Edwards," Adams replied, looking a little more confident now that he no longer had to face the Attorney General.

"Are you not confusing him with George Edwards, a member of your party, who is now known to be a government spy placed amongst you to instigate—"

The Attorney General quickly stood up. "It has been confirmed that Mr. Edwards was nowhere near Cato Street on the night of the 23rd of February, and is not the subject of this cross-examination."

Murray spread his hands in a placating gesture. "Very well. Mr. Adams, could you confirm if it was Edward or Edwards?"

Adams's eyes darted to the prosecutors, as if seeking for a cue from them. "... It was Edward," eventually he said.

"Not Hurstfield or Munson?"

"I suppose he wouldn't be using his real name," Adams said.

"No, of course not!" Murray threw up his arms. "When coming up with a nom de guerre, one must always use one's Christian name!"

Christine couldn't stifle a grin. A snickering went round the courtroom. Adams looked abashed, knowing he'd stumbled, but unsure where or how.

"You mentioned seeing several pistols in the house of one of the prisoners, John Brunt, on the day of the 23rd," Murray continued. "Did you see this pistol amongst them?" He gestured to one of the clerks to show Adams the pistol bearing the Munson coat of arms.

Adams seemed even more confused. "I... I cannot say. They were all lying in a drawer. I cannot even say what their exact number was."

"Has Thistlewood ever mentioned the possibility of a police spy watching your movements?"

"He... he did tell us to watch out for the police," Adams said.

"And yet he missed the fact that George Edwards, his right-hand man, was a spy?"

"I must ask you again, sir, to focus on the subject of this questioning!" the judge shouted.

"Have you ever heard the name Frederick Benson?" Murray asked.

"... No," Adams said, sounding defeated.

Up in the gallery, Christine nodded with satisfaction. Murray was not only throwing doubt on Edward's involvement in the conspiracy, he was also pointing out that the shooting of Benson might have nothing with the conspiracy itself, killing two birds with one stone.

After that, Edward's character witnesses were called - Mr. Clarke, the Misses Hargrove, and some officials from parishes where Edward had done his reform work. It heartened Christine to see and hear them speaking so warmly of him. She could feel the mood of the crowd change as well, becoming more sympathetic, and for the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to hope.

At last, it was Edward's turn to deliver his defense. Usually, this would be done by the barrister on behalf of the prisoner, but Edward had elected to speak for himself. Christine's heart swelled with pride as he stood up and address the jury.

"My Lords and Gentlemen of the Jury," he began. "I cannot, nor do I want to deny that I am for reform." Christine cursed inwardly. Why in God's name would Edward open with that?! Such a statement wouldn't exactly be helpful to his case. Around her, the audience reacted with surprise as well, as heads bent toward each other in curious whispers. "I suppose you were expecting me to denounce it and proclaim my loyalty to the Crown. But I must be honest." Here, he glanced at the gallery, and his eyes caught Christine's for a moment. "I want changes. I don't want to live in a world where men can be hanged for trying to feed their families, mothers have no rights over their children, and orphans can be sold like cattle. But I also do not condone violence. I would like to believe that we can bring about changes by discovering our own sympathy for our fellow man, as well as by appealing to it in others, not by killing and inciting riots. Doing so would be to harm the very people I wish to protect. Whatever Mr. Thistlewood and his men were planning, I had no part in it."

Christine's initial irritation faded away as she looked upon her husband, who stood facing those who scorned him, who wished him harm, all because he dared to tell the truth, because he refused to conform to their rules. Her Edward, brave and true. In the past two years, between her grief and her loneliness and her frustration, she had allowed herself to forget what she loved most about him, his courage, his honesty, his passion for everything in life. It had taken all this trouble for her to remember it again.

But was it too late? For Christine had barely felt the elation when it was stamped out again, as cruelly as a bucket of water on a fire, by the Lord Chief Justice, who fixed his cold, colorless eyes on Edward, and intoned:

"As much as I would like to commend your compassion for the less fortunate, sir, the truth of the matter is that a man was killed. He was killed by your pistol, and you cannot account for your movements at the time of his death. Where was your compassion then?"

With that, he signaled for the court to adjourn. The grim faces of the judge and prosecutors brought back in Christine's mind what Murray had said. They have already decided... The trials are just for show... They will try to make an example out of him... Her heart plummeted as she realized it had all been for naught. Edward was a dead man even before he walked into the courtroom.

***

The Lord Chief Justice's foreboding words were still ringing in Christine's ears as she and Owens made their way out of the building. The trial was going to recommence the next day, but Christine wasn't sure if she could endure it, despite Murray's ever-present optimism, despite Mr. Clarke and the Hargrove sisters' encouragement.

"Don't mollycoddle me, Mr. Murray," she said, when she managed to snatch a moment with the barrister outside Old Bailey. "Tell me, truly, do you think his lordship has any chance of an acquittal at all?"

The barrister's usual sardonic smile disappeared. "Unless we can provide clear, irrefutable evidence of his innocence, I believe the best we could hope for is a reduced sentence."

"Transportation?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Murray nodded. The hollow feeling in Christine's chest grew. She didn't know what was worse, Edward dead or thousands of miles away in Australia. Perhaps she could accompany him. She had heard stories about prisoners successfully building new lives for themselves in the penal colonies... provided that they survived the hellish voyage there, of course.

Suddenly she felt a burning desire to see Edward, stronger than she had ever felt in the previous days. She had only had a glimpse of him in the courtroom as he looked back at her, before he was taken away again, back to prison, and now she longed for him, longed to put her head on his chest, longed to cry in his arms and hear him telling her that everything was going to be all right.

"Owens, please find us a cab to Coldbath Fields Prison," she said. When both men opened their mouths to protest, she held up a hand. "Gentlemen, I don't want to hear another word from you. This may be my last chance to see my husband before he is—" Her voice caught. She cleared her throat and stood up straighter. "My mind is made up. That cab, please, Owens."

"Yes, my lady." The butler tilted his head and went to the row of cabs parked down the road.

"He's still out there, you know," Murray said gravely. "And I can't pay my informants enough to have them accompany you to a prison."

"I'm taking Owens along," Christine said, her tone inviting no further debate. "I shall be perfectly safe."

***

Once the cab rolled to a stop outside the bleak walls of Coldbath Fields Prison, Christine instructed Owens to wait for her and went directly into the governor's office, as Murray had once taken her.

"This is most irregular, my lady," the governor protested, when she laid down her request.

"Sir, please. I simply wish for some time with my husband. He is... as good as a dead man." It took all of her courage to say those words out loud. She still didn't want to believe it. Somewhere in her heart, there was still a tiny flicker of hope, an irrational belief that some miracle would happen to save Edward. "Surely you wouldn't deny a grieving wife a chance to see her husband before he was executed?" And she put down a pouch full of coins on his desk.

The jingling of the coins did a lot more to soften the governor's expression than her entreating words. He picked up the pouch and undid the opening to peer inside, not even bothering to be discreet. The crease between his eyebrows immediately relaxed as if someone had taken an iron to it.

"Very well, my lady," he said. "The guards will take you to his lordship."

Christine followed the two guards down a long, narrow hallway, lined on both sides with heavily enforced doors, each containing only a tiny grated window that could be opened for food and other delivery. Her eyes burned from the smoke of the oil lamps swinging from the ceiling, and she shivered, partly from the cold dampness that seeped through the stone walls, partly from the eerie silence that hung over the place like a thick veil, muffling even the heavy treads of the guards' jackboots.

They finally came to a stop at one of the doors. "I would be very grateful if you could give us some privacy," she said, pressing a coin each into the guards' palms. "You can lock the door behind me. I shall let you know once I'm ready to leave."

The guards raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other, but Christine knew the coins would be too tempting for them to resist. "Much obliged, my lady," one of them said and unlocked the door.

Edward was sitting on the bed, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He looked up at the sound of the door opening.

"Christine? What are you doing here?"

Christine waited until the keys rattled behind her. She had no intention of breaking down in Edward's arms with these men listening outside. Only when the sound of the guards' footsteps faded away then she went to her husband and buried her face in his chest.

"I'm sorry. Don't scold. I had to see you before..." Before the last day of the trial. Before he could be found guilty and taken away from her forever, and the only time they were allowed to meet would be before his execution or departure for the penal colonies. Just for once, for this night, she'd like to see him without the shadow of the noose hanging over them.

"I won't scold. I'm glad you're here." He enfolded her in his arms, and for a moment, Christine allowed herself to not think of anything else but his safe, warm embrace, the feel of his broad, sturdy chest under her cheek, and the soft beating of his heart, while time stretched endlessly around them.

"Thank you for wearing this monstrosity, by the way," he said, removing her turban and tossing it on the table, so he could kiss her hair.

"I never thought it would come in handy," she said, smiling up at him.

"You weren't too worried today, were you, sweetheart?" he said. "I told you Murray would be magnificent."

Christine's heart melted. Edward must have known how the Lord Chief Justice's words affected her, but he was trying to ease her mind. Always thinking of her, always protecting her...

"I think you were magnificent," she whispered, nestling into him again.

"Was I? And here I thought you were going to scold me for giving another one of my reform speeches, when I should have been groveling to the judge instead."

"No. I expect nothing less from you. Truth conquers all, remember?"

She lifted her face to look at him, and he bent down to meet her with a kiss. She had expected it to be a quick, soft kiss, but the moment their lips met, all the longing she'd felt in the last two months erupted into a physical ache, a fire that refused to be quenched unless she had him in her arms. So she pressed her hands to his cheeks, drew him to her, and drank him in. Edward tightened his hold around her, and she writhed in his arms so she could feel all of him with all of her, his hands cradling her waist and the back of her head, his chest crushing her breasts, his lips a scorching heat between hers. Still, the fire burned. His mouth moved down her throat, and his hands impatiently opened her coat and tore away the lace fichu covering the low neckline of her bodice, until his trembling lips found their way to the upper swells of her breasts. The ache concentrated into a pounding in her heart and between her legs, echoed by a throbbing pulse she could feel from him, even through all the layers of their clothes.

With difficulty, she peeled herself away from him and threw her coat over the door of the cell, covering the small opening.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked, puzzled.

"Giving us some privacy," she said. "I've paid those guards well, but who knows when they may return."

She returned to him. As he realized her intention, Edward resumed his kisses with a frenzy. His lovemaking had always been gentle, shy, and unhurried, but there was none of that gentleness now in the way his mouth ravished hers, in the way he tugged at the buttons on the back of her bodice and stripped it down over her breasts. It was feral, frantic, driven by the fire she knew they both felt. They had so little time.

Her back hit the cold, hard wood of the bed, and she shivered, not because of the cold, but because his mouth had closed over her breast, inflaming, tormenting. She arched her back and twisted her fingers into his hair, pressing him closer to her, urging, begging for more. He pushed her skirts up around her waist, and the next thing she knew, he was inside her, the fabric of his trousers rubbing against her thighs, driving her mad with want. Still the fire burned, but she no longer wished to quench it. She wished for it to go on forever, until her very blood felt like it was built from crackling flames, until it obliterated everything so there was nothing else but the two of them, here, now. She wrapped her limbs around him, clinging to him with all her might, while her hips lifted rhythmically, matching his thrusts. The fire was close to burning out, but not yet, not yet, she didn't want to lose him just yet...

"Look at me, Edward," she whispered, wishing to draw out the moment just a little longer. "Please, look at me." And he did, his eyes filling her veins with warmth, with desire, with love. The fire reached its zenith. She bit into his shoulder to muffle a cry, half in ecstasy, half in despair, while he pressed his sweat-drenched forehead against her neck with a moan and poured himself into her, and finally, they became one, body and soul, as the fire burned itself out, sated at last.

Chapter 9

[bloodgutsanengelskiss]

This is a part 3 / chapter 3 !

Ao3 account (full 4 chapters on there and I update first) :

Link to chapter 1 :

Link to chapter 2:

Scarlet Secrets

--

Fandom: Criminal minds

Relationships: Spencer Reid / Elle greenaway , Spencer Reid & Elle greenaway

Tags/ warnings : drugs | drug use | drug addictions ( not in this Chapter but main plot point ) | (drinking addiction in a later chapter too) | hurt Spencer Reid | hurt Elle greenaway | they both need hugs | sometimes they get them ,sometimes they don't | unsub team Elle and spencer | major Charecter death | graphic depictions of violence

Synopsis: Spencer Reid struggles with his addiction and isolation after being kidnapped and Elle is the only one looking out for him ( oh and she has a secret, a really big one )

A/N: This is my first ever uploaded multiple-chapter work, and English isn't my first language, so I'm extremely open to criticism. I hope you enjoy it!!

Chapter 3 : silence

-

A/N : hope you like the point of view switch (just for a chapter !) , also I'm so sad because I'm getting like zero engagement especially on ao3 , anyways , enjoy

--

Elle's POV:

Elle stood in the dimly lit alley, the cold night air almost blew her wig away and she fixed it. She looked down at the lifeless body at her feet, the man's face was contorted in agony, his blood pooling beneath him like a puddle of red wine.

She carefully lifted the body, the weight of it feeling heavier than ever before. Despite the chill in the air, sweat beaded on her forehead as she maneuvered the corpse into the nearby dumpster. The metallic clang of the lid closing echoed in the stillness of the night, sealing away the dead man.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Elle's mind wandered to her next steps. She needed to clean up, to erase the traces of evidence.

Elle made her way back to her fake social services truck and made her way to her apartment. The weight of her actions hung heavy on her like the weight of the dead man, but she pushed aside any feelings of guilt or remorse. This was her mission, her purpose. She couldn't afford to falter now, especially not when the FBI, apparently the BAU, her own former team was investigating her case. She found it ironically funny and almost like a challenge.

Back in the privacy of her own space, Elle took off her bloodstained clothes in the sink, and cleaned her bat and knife, putting the knife in a rack in the kitchen. Then went back to the sink to wash the clothes with her baking soda paste. The familiar ritualistic routine brought her a sense of calm.

As she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her reflection stared back at her, and she looked down to avoid her own eyes. She washed away the grime and blood, watching the water swirl down the drain until it was transparent. It was a cleansing ritual, a way to rid herself of the sins of her and her victims.

Once cleaned up, Elle sank onto her couch, exhausted. And she reached for the remote, turning the TV on. She scrolled through the channels, the news reports of her actions both unsettling and oddly validating. Finding nothing interesting she turned off the TV with a sigh.

Her thoughts drifted to Spencer. It had been weeks since she had heard from him, and a sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. She hated that he stayed in the FBI, she believed he had so much potential outside working for the government, but She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with him and she was just worried.

She picked up her phone from the coffee table and scrolled through her contacts, pausing when she found Spencer, saved in her phone as "dumbass genius", an oxymoron, as Reid had told her. She pressed the call button but was immediately sent to voice mail. Frustrated, Elle decided to go check on Spencer.

She lazily got dressed, cursing him under her breath, then got into her car and drove to his apartment. Using the spare key he had given her long ago, she let herself into his apartment. The familiar chaos of books and papers greeted her but the apartment was so messy she half expected someone else to be living there.

Elle quickly figured out that Spencer wasn't home and she made herself at home, settling on his couch after pushing his stuff to the side. She resisted the urge to tidy up the place, knowing that he would be upset if she moved anything out of place, and decided to busy herself by watching TV and eating some leftovers he had in the fridge.

After warming up a box of cold pizza in the microwave, she grabbed a plate and plopped herself onto the couch. As she leaned over to get the remote from the coffee table, her hands accidentally sent something tumbling to the floor. The room filled with the sharp shatter of glass, Echoing in her ears.

She glanced down at the shattered mess on the floor and confusion knit her brows as she puzzled over what had fallen. She crouched down and carefully picked up the broken pieces, her fingers tracing the outline of the glass vial. Slowly, realization dawned on her, her heart skipping a beat as she comprehended the implications of what she held in her hands.

Oh my God, Spencer .

-

Next chapter:

[chevuex]

Your wig will appear authentic in front of the camera as well if you follow the above-mentioned instructions. Just be sure to tame the baby hairs, carefully raise the roots after each wash, and align the hairline correctly. If you find this post handy for those horrible wig days, let us know with your precious comment. Additionally, when you're looking to buy a new human hair wig or to fix your wig correctly, there is a best solution for this: Visit Cheveux Vuitton,  unisex salon and spa for natural hair wigs for men as well as women at Ranchi, Jharkhand. visit- https://cheveux123.livejournal.com/1556.html?newpost=1

[fedine]

I spent a few days pet sitting for my grandpa, which means that my sewing deadline is basically blasted by now, and I am going to just try to complete 2 more petticoats, 2 dresses, 1 coat, and 1 vest. While I was at my grandfather's, I went through some of my old sewing projects and found a completed petticoat that I just slapped some straps onto, so there's 1 completed skirt. I also found an Edwardian men's shirt that I made for my wedding and did not complete in time, but the one last thing I needed to do was sew 1 button on, so I did that. I found my old house coat made from my late grandmother's bed sheets, so I fixed the fit and finished it up. It needs some more repairs, and I like to embroider little black cats to represent my grandma's beloved (still living) (ancient) cat to cover rips and holes. I have finished my 3rd chemise and started finishing my final, 4th chemise. I have been fixing the mock up for my regency gown bodice, but I am not quite ready to alter the pattern yet. I'm going to work on the pelisse/spencer/spencerette pattern mock up tonight. I have to stay up tonight to shift my sleep schedule so that tomorrow I can watch over my grandfather's home sleep study. I will be hand sewing during that. I washed my wig today, and I'm letting it air dry right now. After tomorrow night, I want to finally get that styled. I might also trim my straw bonnet tomorrow night.

My plan has been to make all of these clothes before my birthday hits in mid-September, then switch gears to art/writing. Now I am thinking that I might keep going with sewing as soon as I am able to again because I want to keep building my wardrobe up.

It's been nice just completing some random old projects, but I'm ready to get back to the main one.

[ultimatehairlossconcealer]

Ultimate Hairloss Concealer: The Revolutionary Solution for Thinning Hair

Hair loss is a common concern for millions of people worldwide, affecting both men and women of all ages. Whether it's due to genetics, aging, stress, or medical conditions, the impact on one's self-esteem and confidence can be significant. While there are numerous treatments and remedies available, many individuals seek an immediate, non-invasive solution to enhance their appearance. Enter the Ultimate Hairloss Concealer—a game-changer in the world of hair restoration.

What is the Ultimate Hairloss Concealer?

The Ultimate Hairloss Concealer is a cutting-edge product designed to effectively camouflage thinning hair and bald spots, providing a fuller, more natural look. Unlike traditional hairpieces or wigs, this concealer is easy to apply, comfortable to wear, and blends seamlessly with your natural hair. It works by adhering to your existing hair and scalp, creating the appearance of thicker hair instantly.

Key Features and Benefits

Natural Appearance: The Ultimate Hairloss Concealer uses advanced micro-fiber technology to mimic the texture and color of real hair. These tiny fibers cling to your hair and scalp, creating a natural-looking density and volume.

Easy Application: Applying the concealer is quick and straightforward. Simply sprinkle or spray the fibers onto the thinning areas, then use a comb or your fingers to distribute them evenly. The fibers are designed to stay in place, even in windy or humid conditions.

Versatility: Available in a variety of shades, the Ultimate Hairloss Concealer can be matched to any hair color, ensuring a perfect blend. It's also suitable for all hair types and styles, whether you have straight, curly, short, or long hair.

Long-Lasting: The concealer is formulated to withstand the rigors of daily life. It remains intact throughout the day, resisting sweat, rain, and general wear. Additionally, it can be easily washed out with regular shampoo.

Boosts Confidence: By providing an instant solution to hair loss, the Ultimate Hairloss Concealer helps restore confidence and self-esteem. Whether you're preparing for an important meeting, a social event, or just want to feel better about your appearance, this product offers a quick and effective fix.

How to Use the Ultimate Hairloss Concealer

Using the Ultimate Hairloss Concealer is as simple as 1-2-3:

Prepare Your Hair: Start with clean, dry hair. For best results, style your hair as you normally would before applying the concealer.

Apply the Concealer: Depending on the product form (spray or sprinkle), apply the fibers directly onto the thinning areas. Use a mirror to ensure even coverage and avoid over-application.

Set the Fibers: Gently pat your hair to help the fibers adhere securely. Some products may come with a setting spray to lock the fibers in place, providing additional hold and resistance.

Why Choose Ultimate Hairloss Concealer?

With numerous hair loss concealers on the market, the Ultimate Hairloss Concealer stands out for several reasons:

Innovative Formula: The advanced micro-fiber technology ensures a realistic look and feel, unlike some products that may appear artificial or clumpy.

User-Friendly: Designed for convenience, the concealer can be applied in minutes, making it perfect for busy individuals.

Cost-Effective: Compared to other hair restoration methods such as transplants or salon treatments, the Ultimate Hairloss Concealer is an affordable option.

Non-Invasive: There's no need for surgical procedures or harsh chemicals, making it a safe choice for anyone concerned about potential side effects.

[pizazzhair]

How Do I Choose The Best lace wig

When it comes to how to choose a wig, wig beginners will be very troubled. They don’t know how to choose the right wig to change and make themselves more beautiful. In fact, choosing lace hair is really a matter of careful selection and review. The process, when you break down the selection process, wigs are actually not that difficult to choose.

The following are some knowledge and choices that pizazz hair mall can give you. No matter what your style, hair color or skin color, they are all suitable. The lace front wigs you need range from straight lace front wigs to human hair lace front wigs, curly lace front wigs, and more.

How Long Do Lace Front Wigs Last

It depends on how often the user uses the hair and the maintenance of the wig. Use The synthetic lace wig can last for up to one year, but if it is made of 100% human silk lace wigs with proper care and preservation, the wig can last for 1-3 years.

How To Put On a Lace Front Wig

Perform a skin test. Determine if you are sensitive to adhesives. Skin test for 15 minutes. If there is irritation or redness, please do not use this adhesive, but choose another type or brand. If there is no stimulation

Align the hair to the head. Before putting on the wig, you need to prepare your hair.

Prepare for the skin. Wash your forehead and wait for it to dry before continuing.

Suitable for wigs.(If your wig is brand new, please go to step4. If it is not a new wig, please go to step 5).

Wrap tape or glue. There are two types of adhesives that can be used to fix lace wigs on the head. Tape or glueApply glue along the hairline to make sure it spreads evenly, and then let it dry for about 3 minutes.

Put the wig on your head and make sure it fits your hairline. Check that the two ears are aligned and cover the wig, from the center to the ears.

What Are The Types Of Wigs

There are many types of wigs in the pizazz hair market, so next, you need to know the types of wigs sold in the market. For example, in pizazz hair, we have front lace wigs, full lace wigs, 360 lace wigs, 13*6 lace wigs, closed wigs, and so on.

Full lace wig-the inside of the full lace wig is completely covered by lace. This wig can be in various styles and is very suitable for ponytails, tops, and other hairstyles, so it is considered to have multiple uses.

Front lace wig-different from the full lace wig, the front lace wig is only lined with lace on the front, and the rest is a wig cap. If you want to make more styles and want to change the appearance at any time, then the full lace wig is a better choice.

In addition, in the full lace wig, it contains 360 lace wigs, 13*6 lace wigs, and closed wigs. The difference between them is the lace size. The 360 lace wig is 22 inches * 2 inches * 4 inches and has a wider separation space (4 inches separation space on the front and 2 inches separation space on the back); 13 * 6 lace wigs are 13*6, and the space is large Long again.

style-You have decided which wig you want to wear, and you know a lot about wigs. Finally, you need to determine the style, size, texture, length, and color of the desired wig.

size-Please indicate the size of the wig cap, there are three sizes: small, medium, and large. The medium size is generally regarded as the "medium-size", suitable for most women, and almost all wigs can be equipped with adjustable hangers and combs. If you don’t want to measure your head circumference, please choose a medium hat.

structure-The wigs sold by pizazz hair include straight hair, styling, thinning hair, more hair, natural hair, deep hair, curly hair, curly hair, Italian curly hair, and wavy hair.

long-pizazz hair can make wigs of 10 to 30 inches. You can choose the length that suits you best according to your characteristics and body shape.

color-It is usually a natural color, if you want to try a special look, you can choose other colors that suit your skin tone.

Before you wear your new headband wig, you need to examine it carefully. Check its texture, smell, and confirm the fabric it is made with. If you feel that something is amiss with the wig, you should wash it and let it dry properly before you wear it.

Pizazz hair can help you buy the most suitable wig for you. We have the highest quality and lowest price wig products to create your most beautiful styling. Our 24-hour service supports no reason to return within the specified number of days. We will also provide the fastest Speed of your hair into your hands, place an order now, you can feel your beauty instantly, pizazz hair can help you find It.

[bestwigoutlets]

7 Mistakes to Avoid When Wearing Straight Hair Extensions in Summer

If you have not worn straight hair extensions before or you have worn them a few times, then you could be making one or some of the mistakes listed below. To help you get a positive experience, we provided a fix for each mistake. Straight Hair Extensions: Avoiding These Mistakes

Hair extensions can be a fabulous way to add length, volume, and style to your natural hair. This is especially true during the summer season. But don’t ruin them by avoiding these mistakes. 1.) Neglecting Proper Care and Maintenance

One of the biggest mistakes people make with extensions is neglecting proper care and maintenance. Just like your natural hair, extensions need regular washing, conditioning, and gentle detangling. Use sulfate-free products formulated for extensions. Make sure that you follow the recommended care instructions provided by the manufacturer.

2.) Overexposure to Sun and Chlorine

Sun exposure and chlorinated water can cause damage to both natural hair and extensions. UV rays can fade the color of the hair. Chlorine can strip the hair of its moisture and cause tangling. Protect them by wearing a hat or using a UV-protective spray when you spend time outdoors. 3.) Use Heat Styling Tools Excessively

Excessive use of heat styling tools, like flat irons and curling wands, can lead to damage and reduce the lifespan of your straight hair extensions. Minimize heat styling whenever possible and opt for heatless styling methods, like braiding or using foam rollers, to achieve the desired look. Use a heat protectant spray if you use heat. And make sure that you choose low to medium heat settings. 4.) Incorrect Brushing and Combing Techniques

Using improper brushing or combing techniques can cause unnecessary tension and damage to your extensions. Avoid brushing or combing the hair when it’s wet, as it is more prone to breakage. Use a wide-tooth comb or a specialized extension brush and start detangling from the ends. Gradually work your way up to prevent pulling on the roots. 5.) Improper Removal

If you wear clip-in or tape-in extensions, ensure that they are properly installed and moreover to prevent any damage to your natural hair. Follow the instructions by the manufacturer to ensure a safe and seamless application. Be gentle and avoid tugging that can lead to hair breakage. 6.) Neglect Regular Maintenance Appointments

You need to go to your stylist for regular maintenance for the longevity of your extensions. These appointments let your stylist check the condition of the extensions, and reposition them if necessary. Skipping these appointments can lead to matting or damage to your natural hair. 7.) Sleeping without Protection

Without protection, sleeping can cause friction and tangling. Thus, tie your hair in a loose braid before going to bed. Avoid sleeping with your wet hair as it can lead to matting and tangling. Ensure a Beautiful and Long-lasting Experience

Lastly, if you want to have a positive experience with straight hair extensions, make sure that you purchase them from a reliable source. This will guarantee they can last long. Head over to our online shop to browse our collection or read our blog posts to know more about how to properly take care of hair extensions and wigs.

[juniorx24]

Addressing Common Misconceptions about Hair Wigs in Lucknow

Hair wigs have been a popular accessory for centuries, serving various purposes such as fashion, convenience, and medical needs. Despite their long-standing presence in society, hair wigs are still surrounded by numerous misconceptions.

In the vibrant city of Lucknow, the misconceptions about hair wigs persist, hindering people from fully exploring their benefits.

In this blog post, we aim to debunk these misconceptions and shed light on the truth behind hair wigs in Lucknow.

Misconception 1: Wigs look fake and unnatural

One of the most common misconceptions about hair wigs is that they appear fake and unnatural.

This belief is largely rooted in the portrayal of wigs in older films and television shows. However, with technological advancements and manufacturing techniques, hair wigs have come a long way.

Today, high-quality hair wigs Lucknow are designed to mimic natural hair, offering a seamless blend with your hairline and scalp.

Modern hair wigs use real human hair, synthetic hair, or both, ensuring a natural look and feel. When professionally fitted and styled, distinguishing between a well-made wig and natural hair can be nearly impossible.

Misconception 2: Wigs are uncomfortable to wear

Some individuals hesitate to try hair wigs in Lucknow because they believe wearing one would be uncomfortable and cause irritation.

While it is true that poorly fitted or low-quality wigs might lead to discomfort, a properly fitted wig made from breathable materials can be very comfortable to wear, even for extended periods.

Wig specialists in Lucknow can help you find the right size and style that suits your preferences and head shape.

Additionally, modern wig caps are designed to be lightweight and breathable, allowing air circulation and reducing any potential discomfort.

Misconception 3: Wigs are only for people with hair loss

Another common misconception is that hair wigs are exclusively meant for individuals experiencing hair loss due to medical conditions or treatments. While wigs are an excellent option for hair loss, they are not limited to this specific group.

People in Lucknow, whether they have a full head of hair or not, can enjoy the versatility and convenience of hair wigs.

Many use wigs as a fashion statement, to experiment with different hairstyles, or to change their look temporarily without permanently altering their natural hair.

Misconception 4: Wigs are expensive and require high maintenance

The perception that hair wigs in Lucknow come with high costs and demanding upkeep often dissuades potential users. While high-end, custom-made wigs can be pricey, various affordable options are available to suit different budgets.

Synthetic wigs, for instance, are generally more affordable than those made from real human hair.

Additionally, wig maintenance requirements have become much more manageable over the years. Regular brushing, washing, and proper storage are typically enough to keep your wig in good condition for an extended period.

Misconception 5: Wigs are challenging to style

Some people believe that they are stuck with a fixed hairstyle once they put on a wig. However, wigs can be styled like natural hair, offering many possibilities.

You can curl, straighten, or even dye some wigs (depending on the material) to achieve your desired look.

To style your wig effectively, seek advice from a professional stylist in Lucknow who specializes in wigs. They can guide you on handling and maintaining your wig properly, ensuring it retains its shape and style for a longer time.

Conclusion

Hair wigs in Lucknow are a versatile and valuable accessory that misconceptions have unnecessarily clouded. By debunking these myths, we hope to encourage people in Lucknow to explore hair wigs' possibilities and benefits.

Whether it's for fashion, medical reasons, or personal preference, hair wigs provide an opportunity to enhance your appearance and boost your confidence with a natural and seamless look.

So, if you've been hesitant about trying a hair wig, now is the perfect time to experience the wonders it can bring to your life.

[hairadditionstudio]

Hair Patches Services for Men and Women | Hair Addition Studio

                                        Hair Patches Services for Men and Women

         Hair loss and thinning is a common problem among both men and women. It can have a negative impact on their self-esteem and confidence. However, with advances in technology, there are now various options available to help solve these problems. One of the most effective solutions is hair patches. It is non- surgical treatment provides by Hair Addition Studio.

 Hair Addition Studio takes a various services for your hair loss problems.

Has Provides Services:

1)     Hair Patch Services in Pune

2)   Hair Wigs Services in Pune.

3)   Hair Bonding Services in Pune.

4)   Hair Replacement Services in Pune

5)   Hair Fixing Services in Pune.

6)   Hair Extension for Ladies in Pune.

7)    Hair Clipping Services in Pune.

8)   Hair Care Products

HAS also provides Hair Patch Services for both Men and Women and it is affordable and completely safe too and that is also Hair addition studio in Aundh is the best place to get a hair patch

We have wide range of hair patches like:

1)Front lace:front lace has 1/2inch lace and there’s base in front side

2)Full lace:it is covered with full net ,its very lite it gives natural look

3)French lace :it has base in front side , It is thick and durable

4)Full base:its a simple patch

5)Polly fuse:there’s no net it is full base

6)Monofilament:it has breathable base which provides proper ventilation and has 120%hair density

7)Miraz front lace:it has 3 layers outer layer gives original scalp look and lace in front gives 100%natural look

8)Salt and pepper

Hair wigs for cancer patients

Hair extensions

Hair patch for ladies

Hair wigs for ladies

Affordable prices :- Start from 10k and goes upto 40k

At Hair addition studio in Aundh we have affordable prices :- Start from 10k and goes upto 40k

Usage and benefits of hair system

1. It will give full coverage with fuller density everywhere.

2.you can style it according to your wish.

3.it is good for people who cannot go for hair transplant because of low donor area.

4. It gives a natural look .

5.low maintenance cost.

6.as we use skin friendly product’s and it leads to a non allergic reaction of the scalp.

At Hair addition studio in Aundh you can buy them in multiples which means you can change your look easily and gives you Immediate Results:

Yes, it will give you an immediate change of look that you need. And if you feel the quality of it is quite good and comfortable then you can wear it for a very long time. Never forget to do some research before making the final decision.

How long does a hair patch last?

The Average life of a hair patch is1 to 1.5 years.

Life of a hair patch may come down to 6 months if you don’t take proper care of it by using

normal brushes, hair combs , shampoos and conditioners Wash hair once or twice a week, avoid sea water for head baths and to know more book a visit to our hair addition studio in Aundh

Maintenance / hair patch service

1.    1. Hair clipping : No maintenance required.

2.     Hair bonding: monthly once

3.    Hair weaving: once in 2 months.

Hair loss is one of the most common problems experienced by many people around the world and that’s why at hair addition studio in Aundh we make sure it is completely resolved.

Non surgical hair replacement is a wonderful option for those who suffer from hair loss and would love to regain the appearance of healthy hair again. the best part is it is affordable and completely safe too.

Hair system is a piece of hair or partial wig or excellent part of some human hair worn to cover some part of baldness, Often it is referred to as Hair pieces, hair wigs, or units and that’s why hair addition studio in Aundh. These are made up of custom made to the needs of a consumer.

It is used on one’s head using an elastic band. A perfect hair system will achieve the perfect match to the hair of the customer which includes density, texture, color and straightness etc.

[imreadydollparts]

Hello,

I'm sorry if you've already answered this, (feel free to disregard it) but, what's wrong with using fabric softener on doll hair? I've seen people recommend using it, so I was just wondering why you are against it?

Thank you :)

I don't like it.

I see a lot of recommendations for it, I've tried it, and I hate it.

In the case of these G3 ponies, the person that had them found a bad tutorial, followed by another bad tutorial, and I don't even want to go to the effort to fix their unfortunate mistake.

Liquid fabric softener is a suspended, heavily scented wax. It's meant to be diluted to about 1/4c to something like 10 gallons of water when used on laundry.

If you're going to use fabric softener on a doll or pony's hair (really, just don't), you MUST dilute it extremely. The water should be barely cloudy, and barely scented. Literally like a single drop of softener to 2 cups of water.

But most tutorials online don't say that, and people that try it, not knowing better, dunk the hair in undiluted fabric softener. Once it dries it's sticky, clumpy, distressingly hyper-perfumed, and almost impossible to remove.

The owner of these G3s soaked the entire pony. Then, when they realized they couldn't get the nasty stickiness out of the hair or off of the body, they followed another bad tutorial for covering up stickiness instead of fixing it, and made them worse.

Yes, coating something in powder and then brushing it out can help cover up stickiness (not fix it, just cover it up) and I just happen to hate the way baby powder smells. That also dulls the hair. I've heard of people doing this process on cheap wigs on purpose to reduce the shine for cosplay.

It's also one way people try to deal with Mattel's glue-headed dolls but it doesn't work work, it just covers up the problem for a little while.

So, instead of bothering with any of that, just use hair conditioner. It works better, isn't waxy, rinses out more easily, and is easy to wash out with dish soap if it doesn't rinse out whereas undiluted fabric softener that has dried needs a heavy-duty degreaser or a product like Goo-Gone to break up the wax, and you have to hope that whatever you use doesn't disturb the paint, which limits how powerful of a cleanser you can use.

I also find Goo-Gone difficult to wash out of a pony or doll's hair (likely because we have hard water) and prefer to avoid needing it all together.

Also hair conditioner comes in lots of nice scents, and you can get baby hair conditioner if you want to keep these as safe for kids to play with as possible. I do try to keep the dolls and ponies I fix play-safe.

In the case of these ponies I used L.A.'s Totally Awesome, which is the product I use to remove Mattel's head glue (fix!, not cover up!), and the ponies are STILL WAXY and still SO strongly scented that I can't be in the same room as them.

It's disgusting.

[edgarsabandonedrocketship]

Okay, it’s the Monday after the Dreaded Annual Riverdale Musical Episode, which imo makes it a great time for some good, old-fashioned shitposting. The topic: Biblical Plagues (mind you, these are not the Plaques we were promised in the synopsis. I’m sad).

How might these plagues show up in the next episode of Riverdale (which airs this weekend the weekend after next because this show has fantastic scheduling)? Below are some ideas. (Please note that I ran out of steam and didn’t put anything for Boils or Hail. Do feel free to tackle those if you’re so inclined, and/or enhance or disagree with any of the others presented).

1. Water turning to blood—Betty is highly annoyed when bloody water shoots out of Archie's sink while she's trying to wash her trusty beer mug. She initially assumes this is happening because Archie is an idiot and fucked up the plumbing when rebuilding the house. To avoid strangling him in a fit of rage, she leaves to stay with either Veronica or Agent Drake until he fixes it.  2. Frogs—Large amphibians start falling from the sky one morning, causing quite a mess all over town and at least one emergency Town Meeting to be convened. Meanwhile, in his laboratory Dr. Curdle Jr. becomes excited over the frogs’ dubious medicinal qualities and embarks on a campaign to convince people to stick them in the mouths of colicky kids, similar to what happened in the ‘Vale. Finally, a bored and lonely Jughead decides to keep a few of the little guys in the bunker with him as pets.  3, 4, 8. Lice, flies, locusts (yay, it’s a three-fer!)—Similar to her experience in the 'Vale, poor Tabitha discovers that her apartment is infested with bugs. At first (when it's limited to the lice and flies), she blames it on: 1) a visit from FP, and 2) a gross upholstered chair Jughead found on the side of the road and set up in his nook (all of these events happened off-screen, of course). But once the locusts appear, Tabitha begrudgingly admits it's probably a curse and asks Veronica for help (since she's a toxic spider woman and all) because Cheryl and Heather aren’t answering her emails. A short time after arriving, Veronica finds herself both repulsed and disturbingly hungry. Overwhelmed, she flees the scene, yelling that she'll text Tabitha the deets for a good local exterminator. 5. Livestock pestilence—Because there are few farm animals known to be living in Riverdale proper, this one presents in the town's population of wild dogs and sinner cats. Toffee, in a triumphant return to the show, raises the alarm on Alice’s talk show and then promptly alerts the state health department. This results in the town's second known quarantine. Luckily, the unnamed pestilence is rather mild and all affected animals make a full recovery within 48 hours thanks to prompt treatment from Dr. Curdle Jr. and possibly Veronica, Cheryl, and Heather.

6. Boils—???

7. Hail—??? 9. Darkness—Dark!Betty's costume returns, wig and all. Archie catches a glimpse of her wearing it, becomes frightened (and not in a fun way because he’s boring), and flees the scene. While night-jogging shirtless down the street, he's pelted by falling frogs before taking shelter at Thornhill, where Cheryl and Heather fatten him up with Sin Pie. Ominous music plays in the background. 10. The killing of firstborns—La Llorona arrives in Riverdale for this purpose. Jughead, Betty, and Veronica are safe. Baby Anthony, however, is not and Toni and Fangs have to hide him somewhere (somehow, it never occurs to them to simply leave town). Archie is also believed to be in danger, since his invulnerability has yet to be tested against a homicidal ghost. Fortunately, we learn he has half-siblings living with the Mothman-Blossom cult in the woods, because Mary Andrews is a secret Blossom. Unfortunately, this revelation causes Archie to have an existential crisis, which means we’re treated to some rather maudlin guitar strumming and crooning. Charles is ultimately the one to take La Llorona down when his handy ghost-buster superpower manifests while the two are locked in hand-to-hand combat.