#American cream perfume

[haveusmelledthisperfume]

Have you smelled this perfume?

Sharing a name and a scent with the popular hair conditioner, American Cream is a smooth, sweet lactonic (milky) scent perfect for sweater weather. Read more at Fragrantica.

[909th]

lush has this perfume called american cream and i luv it sm but also like why would they call it that

[girlxhorror]

Dude why are Chem Majors like this. This dude is sitting like a good 4m away from me and I can smell the DAYS old sweat??? I can’t be associated with these people anymore.

[thedeviltohisangel]

The Road to a Beautiful Nowhere

a/n: i mean...can you blame me? this is prologue-ish and a bit more poetic/abstract than you might be used to seeing from me. something new but I hope you like it. happy to write more if we need the pain.

The rumble of an engine always preceded him. Different than a car. His motorcycle was the epicenter of an announcement. An arrival. A shift in the course of a life.

Because that is exactly what Benny had become to her. The representation of choice. The notion that she didn’t need to follow the path that was laid out before her. Illuminated by the tacet love of her mother. Darkened by the hardened hand of her father. Protected by the ghost of her brother. 

“Learn something new today, dumpling?” 

He always asked her the same question. And at the beginning when she had only shook her head as an answer, too nervous to speak to the man twisted with chords of gold, he had smiled and asked again. Said he knew her brain wasn’t filled with nothing. Knew it was filled with dreams and wisdom and at the same time burdened by having to grow up too soon. Experiencing the violence of the world in places where it shouldn’t reside. 

But he hadn’t learned that about her for quite awhile. Hadn’t learned that the gloves on her hands or the kerchiefs around her neck or the dainty, pink sunglasses on her nose were for more than just fashion. 

He would think she was unmarred by a life of turmoil. Would think she was draped in suppleness. Draped in an innocent glow that mirrored a fawn. He had worked to preserve it, in his own way. Pushing her. Urging her. Ready to catch her in the event it was too far. Until he learned that it was just a gilded cage. A simmering urge to break, out or down it didn’t matter. And the longer he knew her the longer he noticed the cracks. Noticed the black and blue amongst the cream and lavender and mint. 

Benny had a habit of barrelling towards conflict. Thought she might be a safe haven for a little while.

Thought she’d look pretty gripping his waist on the back of his bike the same way she gripped that Bible. Thought the way she avoided his gaze while her friends flirted with him was cute but was enthralled by the way she couldn’t avoid her own blush. 

He thought he knew her. Thought he might even love her. Thought they could spend their lives chasing the rolling hills of the American midwest and making love amongst the stars and getting tipsy off beer at club picnics. 

“Benny,” she whispered as she traced over the letters on his arm. “Do you ever wish the world didn’t remind us exactly who we are? That it would just let us forget sometimes?”

Never with an answer for her as he relied on her to broaden the horizons of his mind to answer such questions. He wished he knew. Wished he knew how to ease the crease in her brow or the slump in her shoulders.

She smiled her widest when she was with him. Her wildest. Experiencing the brand of freedom that only Benny was able to harness. A brand of fearlessness that she wished she could inhabit for just a moment longer. A brand of love that only existed in his eyes and his touch and his breath as she felt his chest rise and fall. 

Love that she wished would take her away from here. From this place of pain and suffering. Where everyday was a reckoning. It would be her most daunting step. Wrapping her arms around him and saying goodbye. But neither of them were ever ready at the same time. Neither of them were ever ready to leave behind all they knew even if they knew it was killing them. 

But there had been no way for her to know all of this. 

Not the first time she had glimpsed him. As he rolled by on his motorcycle while she left the bookstore. 

Not the first time she had gotten on the back of that bike without a word.

Not the first time she had kissed him while he tasted like cheap beer and cigarettes and he had been drunker off her perfume than anything else.

He was all her firsts and she hoped he’d never be one of her lasts. 

“One day, I’ll get you out of here.”

She just hoped she could last that long.

[icarustypicalfall]

Cod men in a mall??

I am bored, so i am shoving all of them in a mall. This is supposed to be funny, idk man.

Silly drabbles for TF141, Vaqueros, phil and könig.

warnings: none! fluff :) proofread but might contain some faults

credit to owner for the divider I don't know to who it belongs!!

masterpost • AO3

Ghost

He didn't want to go.

After giving him the cutest puppy eyes he said yes.

"I don't want to spend three hours in makeup stores"

He gave you the Ultimest glare as you passed by the shop in question.

Ended looking around for perfumes and breaking one by accident.

The employee was too scared to confront him.

You tried to convince him into buying an green hoodie with cat ears.

*typical ghost glare*

Was happy when they said they didn't have his size.

Now imagine him wearing the same sweater, looking like a crop top on him while you took pics.

Never went to the mall with you again

"no chance not going"

(he said yes lol)

John Price

Spent good five minutes fighting with an employee over the way a cuppa should be made.

You tried on multiple bucket hats and took pics. He was grinning the whole time. :(

"John, do you think I can buy this mall?"

"Absolutely not Love."

He'd buy it for you if you asked, though.

You thrifted together some vintage sweaters and wore them over hot drinks, the same night.

He is the sanest of them all. (optional)

Gaz :)

He needed to restock, so you went to the mall.

You wanted to sit in the cart, and so did he.

Both of you sat in the cart, ended bumping in the vegetable section and kicked out.

You can't go there together anymore.

For the rest of the afternoon, you ate ice cream and threw a coin in the Fontaine

"Nah but seriously, love, I'd go into that bloody pool and collect all the money. A legit fortune for us, yeah?"

Soap Johnny Mactavish

He wanted to get a weighted blanket, considering the cold weather in the base.

He jokingly wrapped you in it.

You couldn't move and looked like a worm.

"Ya look funny, lassie. Liile worm, go.."

Soap wrapped himself in a weighted blanket as well and you made a race on who'll reach the paying section first. The owners wasn't very happy.

**

You took pictures in a photobooth, you frowned in annoyance at the first set, with Soap giving you bunny ears behind your back.

Although, it was cute.

That.. until a raccon randomly barged in. The astonishment was priceless and the pictures remain in your wallets.

Soap begged to keep the raccoon.

(It bit him.)

Alejandro Vargas

He wanted to buy you something special.

He didn't mind the price, while your eyes lagged at the series of zeros in the tag.

He shoved everything your eyes laid on in the basquet, calling it a day.

You had to hold him or else he'd buy the whole section.

He ended surprising you with a bracelet, one you always gazed at whenever you came.

He shushed you before you even open your mouth, smiling.

"nonono cariño, no thanks, i am all yours."

:')

Rudy Parra

:(

Sweet boy just wanted to buy a book.

He heard about a certain section in the library and wanted to check it out with you.

(you see where this is going)

You both chose a book, thinking the cute cover was a projection of what lays on the papers.

Wrong.

Two words in, you gazed at each other, put the book on the shelf and went to get a film.

You never entered that section again.

Aside from this, you had so much fun chosing each other fits and trying them on.

Phillip Graves

He is a proud American, of course.

Having his alarm as the national Anthem and riding to the sun with the eagle on his shoulder.

Anyway..

Phil practically begged you to get a certain pyjama, red white and blue to match his own.

He took your no to heart and gave you a cold shoulder (for five minutes only, he trailed afterwards on your feet like a lost puppy.)

He kept a hand around your waist, glaring at men who's gaze lingered on you.

"Eh darlin, there is no point in buying new sweaters, mine are yours. It suits you perfectly, beautiful!"

könig

He wanted new pants, and your opinion, so you went together.

And meanwhile you might think this is an easy task, allow me to say "NUH UH"

Have you seen this man?

He tried a pair of cargo pants, claiming it is his size.

Two steps in, the material ripped apart.

He took it off and, ever so calmly, he returned it in the back of the pile, as if nothing happened.

You left the store, and he uttered, pulling you to his side for warmth

"It's alright, not the first time, Maus.. They should make pants more stretchy, ja?"

[raatart]

a complete boycott list in alphabetical order

a complete list of companies / brands / franchises to boycott in support of palestine that i have been working on putting together for a while now.

remember to support your local businesses

stand with palestine against genocide

(Food & Beverages)

A

Activia

Acqua Panna

Akmina

Absolute Vodka

Algida

A&W

Aquafina

Alpro

Actimel

B

Burger King

Baskin Robbins

Ben & Jerry's

Bugles

Betty Crocker

Badoit

Becel

C

Coca Cola

Costa Coffee

Cadbury

Cheerios

Cheetos

Campbells

Calve

Cappy

Chiquita

D

Dominos

Dasani

Dunkin' Donuts

Doritos

Dr Pepper

Danone

Dolcela

Damla

Dogadan

E

Evian

Eden

F

Fanta

Frito-lay

Fruit by the Foot Roll Ups

Falim

Fresca

G

Gatorade

Greggs

H

Hardees

Haagen Dazs

Heinz Ketchup

Hershey's

Hard Rock Cafe

Heinz

I

Innocent

Israeli Fruits & Vegetables

J

Jacob's

Jaffa

K

KitKat

KFC

Kbueno

Kraft Mac & Cheese

Kellogg's

Kraft

L

Lipton

Lays

M

McDonald's

Mars

Marks & Spencers

Maggi

Marila

Monster

Mountain Dew

Mehadrin

Minute Maid

Milk Bar

M&M's

Magnum Ice Cream

Milka Chocolates

N

Nestle

Nestle Cereals

Nescafe

Nesquik

Nespresso

Nido

Nutella

Nature Valley

Nestle Milo

Nestle Carnation

Nestle Coffee Mate

Nestle Nestum

Nimbooz

Nestea

O

Orea

Original Shredded Wheat

P

Papa John's

Pepsi

Pringles

Pizza Hut

Perrier

Pillsbury

Popeyes

Pretty a Manager

Pure Life

Powerade

Popup Bagels

Q

Quality Street

Quaker

R

Redbull

Ruffles

S

Starbucks

Subway

Smartwater

Sweetgreen

Snickers

Sprite

Sabra

Sunkist

Strauss

Smarties

S.pellegrino

Schweppes

Sana

Sirma

Sara Lee

T

Toblerone

Tang

Twix

Tesco

Tropicana

U

V

Vittle

Volvic

W

Wall's

Walmart

Walkers

Wrigley's

X

Y

Z

7Up

(Clothing)

A

America Eagle

Adidas

Alo

Adina Eden Jewelry

B

C

Converse

Calvin Klein

Cat

Castro

D

Drew

Diesel

E

F

G

Good American

GAP

H

H&M

I

J

K

Kamili

L

Levi's

Lumberjack

M

Mango

N

Nike

O

Oasis

P

Puma

Q

R

River Island

S

Skims

Skinny Dip

St. Mark

Style Nadia

T

Timberland

U

V

Victoria's Secret

Vakko

W

We Wore That

Wyeth

X

Y

Z

Zara

(Beauty)

A

Aveda

Amika

Avon

Aussie

Aveeno

Always

Aesop

Ahava

B

Bobbi Brown

Blistex

Bath & Body Works

Britney Spears Fragrance

Becca

Biotherm

Beauty Blender

C

Clinique

Covergirl

Colgate

Calgon

Camay

CeraVe

Christina Aguilera Perfumes

Clean & Clear

Crest

CND

Cacharel

D

Dr. Jart+

Dove

Dettol

Darphin Paris

Dark & Lovely

E

Essie

Elidor

F

Fenty Beauty

Fair & Lovely

G

Garnier

Gillette

Glam Glow

H

Honest Beauty

Haci Sakir

Herbal Essences

Head & Shoulders

Hugo Boss

I

J

Jo Malone

Johnson & Johnsom

K

Kerastase

Kiehl's

Kylie Cosmetics

Kylie Skin

Kotex

L

L'Oreal

Lacome

La Roche-Posey

Lifebuoy

Lux

Lubiderm

M

Maybelline

MAC

Moroccan Oil

Maui

Matrix

Max Factor

N

Nyx

Neutrogena

Nivea

Nature's Beauty

Niely

O

Olay

Origins

Orkid

Oral-B

Oax

P

Pepsodent

Pantene

Q

R

Revlon

Rimmel

Rexona

Rhode

S

Summer Fridays

Schick

Smashbox

Sephora

Sensodyne

Skinceuticals

Skin Better Science

T

The Body Shop

Too Faced Cosmetics

The Ordinary

Tom Ford Beauty

Tampax

Takami

U

Urban Decay

Ulta Beauty

V

Vichy

Vaseline

Veet

W

X

Y

Yes to

Yuesai

Z

(Luxury)

A

B

C

Chanel

D

E

Estee Lauder

F

G

Georgio Armani

H

I

J

K

L

LVMH

Louis Vuitton

La Mer

Lavs

Le Labo

M

Mugler

Maison Margiela

N

O

P

Prada

Q

R

Raplh Lauren

S

T

Tiffany & Co.

Tom Ford

Tommy Hilfiger

U

V

Valentino

W

X

Y

Yves Saint Laurent

Z

(Tech & Entertainment)

A

Aol

Amazon

AirBnB

Apple

B

BBC

Buxton

Barbie

Booking.com

C

CNN

D

Disney+

Dell

E

Energizer

F

Ford

Fiverr

G

Galaxy

H

HP

Hyundai

Hulu

I

IBM

Intel

J

K

L

Lego

M

Motorola

Movenpick

Mattel

Microsoft

N

National Geographic

Nokia

Netflix

O

Oracle

Oxi

P

Philips

Q

R

Rolls Royce

S

Siemens

Sodastream

T

Toys R Us

U

V

Volvo

Valvoline

W

Wix

X

Y

Z

(Other)

A

Axa

Ariel

Aero

Ambi Pur

Airwick

Aroma

AVC

Amway

Ace Hardware

Andrex

American Express

B

Bounty

Black & Decker

Bonux

Bref

Braun

Benadryl

Band-aid

Barclays

Blue Cross Blue Shield

Better Help

C

Caltex

Chevron

Culligan

Citi Bank

Chicco

Cravola

Clearblue

Capital One

D

Dash

Drynites

Dosmestos

Doona

E

Expedia

F

Finish

Febreeze

Fixodent

Fairy

G

Goop

Gerber

Gys

H

HSBC

Huggies

Hayat

I

Imodium

J

JCB

K

Kimberly-Clark

Kleenex

L

Lion

Little Swimmers

Lenor

M

Mr Muscle

Minidou

Monsanto

N

Nicorette

O

Omo

P

Pampers

Purina Felix

Payoneer

Palmolive

Protex

Pull-ups

P&G

Prima

Pril

Paramount Pictures

Q

R

Rejoice

Rinso

Rogaine

S

Signal

Sensus

Sudafed

T

Tide

U

Unilever

Us Cellular

V

Vim

Vanish

Vicks

W

X

Y

Yumus

Z

(Places)

A

B

C

D

Disney

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

M

N

O

P

Q

R

S

T

U

V

W

X

Y

Z

(People)

A

Ashley Tisdale

Amy Schumer

Andy Beshear

B

Bono

Ben Savage

Bella Thorne

Beyonce

C

Chris Evans

Claire Holt

Ciara

Chris Rock

Chris Pine

D

Demi Lovato

Dwayne Johnson

DJ Khaled

E

Eva Longoria

F

G

Gal Gadot

H

I

Ian Somerhalder

J

Jamie Lee Curtis

James Maslow

Justin Bieber

Jennifer Aniston

Jaclyn Hill

Jack Harlow

Jordan Peele

Joseph Quinn

Jack Black

K

Kylie Jenner

Kim Kardashian

Kris Jenner

Kerry Washington

Katie Perry

Karlie Kloss

Khloe Kardashian

Kat Graham

Kendall Jenner

Kourtney Kardashian

L

Lebron James

Lana Condor

Lana Del Rey

M

Millie Bobby Brown

Malala

Mindy Kaling

Mark Hamill

Madonna

N

NFL

Nina Dobrev

Natalie Portman

Nabela

Nicole Richie

Noah Schnapp

O

Octovia Spencer

P

Perez Hilton

Paul Wesley

Phoebe Tonkin

Pia Mia

P!nk

Q

R

Ronaldinho

Rihanna

S

Sofia Richie

Shaquir O'neal

Selena Gomez

T

Tara Strong

Taika Waititi

Taylor Swift

Tyler Perry

U

Usher

U2

V

Vanessa Hudgens

Viola Davis

W

X

Y

Z

[blushcoloreddreams]

Perfumes to smell like a bakery

vanilla

Vanilla 28 by kaylali

Mod vanilla - Ariana Grande

Black opium le Parfum - YSL

Signature - Montblanc

Cheirosa 62 - sol de janeiro

Dama Bianca - Xerjoff

La Belle le Parfum

Fresh cream warm cashmere

Vanilla milk

Vanille - outremer Paris

Cocoa

Chocolate greedy by montale

Choco musk by al herab

Eilish by Billie Eilish

Hot cocoa - Bath and body works

Prada candy night

Yes i am delicious - cacharel

Egeo choc - o Boticário

Nebras by lattafa

Cinnamon

Cinnamon bun by Demeter fragrance

Angela’s share

Lost wonderer by peosym

Oajam- Parfums de Marly

Ambré eccentrico by Armani privé

Amouage Crimson Rocks

Forbidden games - killian

Brown sugar

Floriental Brown Sugar

Vanilla 28 by Kayali (again)

Coconut

Crystal noir - Versace

Alien goddess intense - Mugler

Utopia Vanilla coco 21 - Kayali

Coffee

intense cafe by montale

Ristretto intense cafe by montale

Black opium - YSL

Amore café by mancera

Pound cake

Burberry her

Frosted cream - Zara

Burberry her elixir

Strawberry poundcake by bath and body works (also heard it smells like white chocolate)

Kate spade by Kate spade

Mukhallat- Montale

American cream by lush

[starcanwrecked-confessions]

Friendly reminder that not all of us are involved in drama. for example: i'm here, i'm neurodivergent and I really like perfume

Here's what lush perfume I think some Hatchetfield characters would wear any why they wear it:

Grace - breath of god - It caught her eye when she went shopping with ruth. She picked it up because of the name. She bought it because it smelled like the incense they burn at her church

Ethan - lord of misrule - It was a gift from Lex. He'd been having problem's at work, people leaving Tony bad reviews because Ethan worked there and smelled like w33d, and it was making him feel like a burden. Lex noticed the toll it was taking on him and gave him this to make life a bit easier for the Greens. After Ethan stopped working there, either because he just got a better one at some point after Lex and Hannah left or because the three of them got to California (depending on how delulu you're feeling - I'm going with the second option), he kept wearing it because it makes him think of Lex.

Becky - american cream - It's the same scent shes worn since high school. Tom said it suited her back then. Stanley said it was too sweet so she stopped wearing it while they were married. when she killed him, she started wearing it again. it felt like *her*. it reminded her of Tom.

Emma - 4:20PM - helps her get up in the morning.

Ziggs - breath of god - They used to go to a festival every year as a kid. It always smelled of incense (and w33d but they've got that covered). When they were looking for perfume that smelled like incence they stumbled across this online

Steph - rose jam - She and Pete both got help from an employee to pick out scents. she landed on this

Pete - vanillary - see above (I also think its funny that the perfume is really sweet and he has famously low blood sugar)

Ruth - lust - *the* lush lover of Hatchetfield. Picked it because of the name. Didn't even like the scent at first but she learned to love it the more she wore it.

Lex - 4:20PM - she, unlike Ethan, wants to smell even more like w33d because it pisses people off.

Linda - goddess - makes her feel powerful and mysterious (plus its really different from Becky's. might've been on purpose. might've not)

Richie - dirty - ironically the mint makes him feel fresher. It doesn't work on him though, he just sweats it off.

Hannah - new romantics - It smells a bit like oranges. she likes orange juice. what can you say? she saved up for it. plus Webby liked it so that's a bonus. she probrably also steals Ethan's from time to time. She's not allowed to wear Lex's.

Miss Holloway - ginger - has a lot of popular smells from the 80's within it. (totally forgot she was ginger herself when picking this out for her lol)

Deb - sappho - she and Alice got it to share because it's the lesbian perfume and that's funny. It turned out to not be Alice's thing but Deb loved it.

Alice - love - she just likes it. Deb did say it smelled as lovely as she is tho so its special now.

Charlotte - Shade - Sam bought it for her for an anniversary. She hates it but she wears it anyway. Sam never notices. I feel like she would rlly like alina tho!

-🛼 ( i cant tell if thats showed up right- currently not on my normal device - but it's the roller skate)

~~~

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 34: Promise

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

Let the games begin.

Time to put my social correlation to use. I follow Ada past the doors into the foundation building. The aroma of cigarettes and multiple perfumes hits me across the face and almost makes my eyes water. Supremely dressed noble people drink and chatter all around, all with the same bland smiles. The stemma of Shelbys and their connections. I head straight to the group of familiar Peaky Blinders.

“Glad ya made it!” Arthur greets.

“Nice getup, Verena!” 

“Thank you, Finn. You gentlemen all look dashing! Now what’s a girl gotta do to get a whiskey?”

In ten seconds flat a waiter appears with a glass. I shouldn't be drinking on the job but a little camouflage goes a long way. If I drink and mingle with ease then people will trust me. That and the dress. The beautiful dress fits me perfectly and with a little patience I’ve braided my hair into an intricate bun.

“Hello, my lovely.”

A gentle Irish voice turns me away and I’m faced with an aged priest. But instead of feeling comfort from this religious leader a sickening sensation spreads through my veins. Why does a man of God have such malice eyes?

“Father John Hughes,” he introduces himself.

I regain a soft expression but refused to offer a handshake. “Verena. Pleased to meet you.”

Thomas walks up with an equally terrifying stare. “I see you’ve already met our consultant for foreign affairs.”

Thank God! I don’t think I can handle this conversation alone- Wait. Thomas is leading me away. 

“Ms. Steenstra, you may be needed elsewhere,” he murmurs in my ear.

The hidden meaning in his words ring loud and clear. This business is not for you. He’s made another enemy.

“I understand.”

His hand on my back quickly pushes me to where Grace is standing. She herself is wearing a light cream dress with a matching mink shawl. And a gleaming sapphire around her neck.

“Sorry for the rushing,” I catch my breath. “That dress is stunning! And that rock on your neck catches every eye.”

She smiles and fingers the gem. “It was a gift from Tommy.”

“Oh, yes, Thomas. He tells me you mentioned my family,” I say nonchalantly but we both know what I mean.

“Verena, his company is everything to him. I am loyal to my husband and if your ties pose any threat then he needs to know.”

My grip on the glass tightens and I stare her straight in the eye. “Is that the only reason? My family has stayed dormant all these years and you think they’re a threat?”

She still looks at me the same way. Though she speaks with friendly terms there’s still a part of her that is reminded by my unfaltering love for Thomas. It’s not just my family. This is personal.

“You will never trust me,” I state out of the blue. It’s not a question because we both know the answer. “You will never accept me for loving this family. I am not here to impose or overstep my boundaries, Grace. I’m not attacking your love.”

This is the bullet I dodge. Love can be a powerful thing. Creator of passion, loyalty, happiness. And on the other hand distrust, bitterness, and jealousy. Yes I do work for one of the most upheld companies in Europe. But in the end my happiness comes from being their cheerful puppet.

“I do trust you,” Grace says after a moment of quiet. “That’s why I’m trusting you if something happens to me.”

My blood runs cold. “What are you implying?”

She keeps her face even and looks out at the people. “I’m a gangster’s wife. We both know that means death is always around the corner. If something happens it’ll be up to you to take care of Charles.”

Is she serious? “Thomas-”

“Is still Thomas. He’s too engrossed in his work. Promise me you’ll take care of them.”

Take care of them. And this is all on the concept of precaution. A guardian, in a way. Despite our bad past relations Grace is trusting me with her son. That’s far from keeping cross. She really does respect me.

“I promise.”

Grace hums and sips her own drink, still looking at the guests. “On another matter, congratulations on being hired as our foreign representative. Where do you plan on visiting?”

Excellent question. “If Thomas has no instructions for me then I plan to use my own connections to my advantage. I can meet with my uncle and get names for contacts in Europe, then work my way west. Back home there are many towns that would be willing to partner with us.”

“Oh really?” Thomas jumps into the conversation and takes Grace’s hand. “Do you girls only talk business?”

Grace kisses his cheek. “The usual catching up, Tommy.”

“I didn’t plan on coming but Ada insisted. Personally I think there’s too many elite people here for me to not stick out. My accent doesn’t help either.”

“Verena, would you mind giving us a moment?” Thomas asks.

“Of course. Enjoy your party, Mr. and Mrs. Shelby.”

It’s no trouble to give a couple their space, though I do appreciate him asking nicely. I depart and make my way back to where the rest of the Shelby men are. Arthur sees me and breaks into laughter.

“Oi, Verena! Tommy tells us you’ve got your own army, eh? Got some of your own mafia to back you up.”

My jaw drops. “Shush! Not here, Arthur! I have nothing of the sort! I’m not a member, I only have family who are members.”

Him and John drink up more alcohol while Michael observes with interest. He’s much more adapted than the last time I saw him. Something else that’s new is how Finn is trying to fit in with him.

“Care to dance?” He offers a hand.

I take it gracefully. “I’d love to, Finn.”

We go into a well-paced waltz, melting in with the rest of the dancers. I look over and have to keep from laughing when I see John’s jaw drop in shock.

“I didn’t know you could dance. Looks like John doesn’t either!”

Finn snickers. “Maybe you inspired it. But honestly I prefer your Charlestons to this. More fun.” He pauses and looks over his shoulder. “I think they’re about to start the toast.”

We end the dance and break off to the side, just as a man with wild eyes shoves past us.

“For Angel!”

BANG!

A gunshot rings through the noise of the party and everyone screams. Everyone but Thomas. He stares in shock as red seeps through Grace’s dress. She crumbles to the ground and the sight makes me freeze. People stampede past me to escape the violence and Arthur tackles the shooter to the ground.

“Verena! Are you alright?” Finn shouts and pulls me away.

I’m still frozen. I’ve seen death before, but not like this. Full-out murder. Bloody murder. Right in front of me. I talked with her just minutes ago… and now she’s gone.

“T-Take this!” 

With a shaking hand I hold out my shawl and Thomas snatches it. He presses the fabric against Grace’s shoulder but it doesn’t stop much.

“Get me a fucking ambulance now!” Thomas roars over the noise.

It’s too late. I no longer see life in her eyes. She has returned to God.

The last funeral I attended was Aunt Eleanor’s. That death was unexpected too, but I did not witness it first hand. This funeral, Grace’s funeral, is something that seems to tear away any hope from everyone. As her coffin is lowered into the ground and people place their roses on the grave, my mind races with the last words we spoke to each other. 

Promise me you’ll take care of them. Now? So soon? How? How could anyone have predicted this? Grace and I didn’t always see eye to eye but that is no reason to wish death upon anyone. Now who’s going to tell Charlie he’ll never see his mother again? And Thomas. Poor Thomas… He’s hardly uttered a word. Please tell me, Grace. Tell me how I can help. They don’t deserve to feel such sorrow.

It’s been one full week. A week of Ada and I staying at Arrow House helping with Charlie while Thomas mourns his young wife. The poor child keeps asking for her but is too young to understand. Today is the day everyone’s supposed to meet with him. Or at least that’s what Ads tells me when Michael and Polly arrive.

“Where is he? Out riding?” he asks.

Ada nods. “Yes. We’re not sure- Oh. He’s back.”

We go to where she’s looking out the window. A tall black steed trots up with Thomas riding him. I can’t tell how he’s feeling.

“Was he out all night?” Micheal asks.

“Every night since the funeral,” Ada says. “Comes back in the morning to see Charles and feed the horses, then goes off again.”

Polly hums as she reads the paper. “He used to sleep out when he was a kid. Curly would find him in the pasture. How’s the baby?”

Ada and I exchange looks. “He asks for his mum at night. He made a list, and wants to see you two first.”

Polly looks confused. “What about John and Arthur?”

Ada starts to answer but the sound of footsteps shuts her up. Thomas walks straight past us and shuts the door to his office. Nothing different. It’s like we don’t exist.

“I’ll go check on Charlie,” I say gently and slip away to the staircase. 

With all the laughter and happiness gone, this house stands as a dreary reminder of what could have been. No longer do I hurt from heartbreak. Instead my heart is sore from guilt. Yes I was saddened by their marriage but never did I want things to go this way. How on Earth can I possibly approach him after this?

I creep to the young Shelby’s bedroom door and peek inside. Charlie’s sitting with a nanny on the floor, playing with blocks.

“Hello, little Charlie.” I step in further. “What you got there, eh?”

He looks up with his jaw open, looking at me with those oblivious eyes only a toddler can pull off. He has no inkling of what happened.

“B-Brick!” He babbles.

“He loves building things,” the nanny comments.

That’s good to hear. With all that this life tears apart it’s good to hear that someone wants to build something for a change.

“Great job, Charlie. We’ll be downstairs if you want to see daddy, okay?”

His head perks up. “Daddy?”

“Yes, daddy’s back. I’ll tell him you want to see him, okay?”

“Okay.”

I hurry back to the hallway before my tears flow out. That boy, that sweet little boy, just lost his mother. What kind of a cruel person does that to a family? The minute I see Polly leave the office I wave her down.

“I need to see Thomas. Charlie wants him.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait. He’s very specific about how he wants to meet with us.”

My chest tightens again and I subtly lean against the wall for support. “O-Okay.”

Polly’s face falls. “Verena? What’s wrong?”

I look up with sad, fearful eyes. “I don’t know what to say to him.”

Polly puts the pieces together. “She talked to you?”

I nod. “Before she was shot. She made me promise to take care of them. Thomas and Charlie. I will abide by my promise but I will not advance while he is in mourning.”

Michael walks out and sees us talking.

“Did he ever mention wanting to see me today?” I ask in a small voice.

He shakes his head. “Arthur and John are next. That’s all I know.”

Polly takes my arm and leads me back to the parlor for a cup of tea. The warm drink of watered down herbs does little to soothe this headache of morals. Do I offer simple words? A hug? Am I going to be the speechless mime he vents to and screams at?

“The Sabinis and Solomons sent their condolences with flowers,” Polly says to Ada.

That can be a large blow. They know how much Grace meant to Thomas and could move in while he’s grieving.

The door opens once more and the two Shelby brothers stomp out.

“Did he say-?”

“Nothing at all,” Arthur tells me. “Dismissed us with no instruction about further visitors. I tried to ask him.”

I take a shaky breath and wobble across to the door. Arthur gives me a comforting pat on the shoulder and I’m left to face Thomas alone. 

Knock knock.

No answer. I gently turn the knob and inch my head in. Thomas sits at his desk, staring at papers and ignoring my entrance. With a dose of courage I step fully into the room and nervously wring my hands together.

“Charlie’s asking for you.”

He doesn’t look up. “I’ll be out later.”

Nothing else. Polly was right. He is specific. But that won’t help Charlie cope with losing his mother.

“Thomas-”

“Leave,” he orders stiffly.

“I’m so sorry-”

Thomas stands up and pounds his desk. “Leave! Do you think you’re the first person to say ‘sorry?’”

My voice breaks. “I- I thought-”

“What?” he shouts. “That I’d want to fucking talk? To you?”

The pain of his words cuts deep and shines through my eyes. “That’s what you’ve always done when you need to. You’ve spoken to everyone else-”

“They’re family.”

Family. His family. And I’m not a part of it. I’m a friend whose intentions were to help him grieve. And one of my predictions came true. I’m someone else for him to scream at. 

“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes they are. Forgive me.”

Thomas watches me with wild eyes as I step backwards to the door and let myself out, shutting it with little noise. I instantly bolt away and slouch against the wall near the kitchen, my face in my hands. How, Grace? How can I take care of them? They miss you so much! Thomas misses you so much and is shutting everyone out.

@meadows5

[ashley-now-here]

Character Habits (Most Highly/Oddly Specific)

[This focused more on human habits and are more of a side thing then a habit that portraits majority of the character's personality. I also never really done this sooo...]

‌They will ask you to repeat the question and then respond before you do

‌They over explain and over complicate everything to not be misunderstood

‌They say "literally" even if they're not being literal

‌They chew food with their mouth open

‌They rage when they lose to someone during videogames

‌They will proceed to go to the store to buy one thing and come back with a whole bag of items

‌They overthinking everything

‌They love themselves when they're alone, but when in public: their self-respect drops to a zero real quick

‌They keep everything clean and tidy

‌They don't bother to clean up, they just leave things messy

‌Early to rise, but late to bed (or any other form)

‌They move in their sleep 24/7

‌They pull the blanket for themselves when they're sleeping with their S/O or someone else

‌They talk in their sleep

‌They do certain stuff the other way around just to mess with people (ex. they put their milk before cereal on purpose)

‌They often doodle in their notebook (during class) or on their body (arms, palms...)

‌They either don't change their clothes that often or change them whenever they have a chance

‌They just HAVE to make a sarcastic remarks every time someone states the obvious

‌They cannot understand most jokes and/or sarcasm (bonus points if they are paired with a person that does the above and they always end up giving them a confused look^^^^)

‌They repeat a joke a million times until it dies out for them too (bonus points if they move onto a new one)

‌They constantly click their pen

‌They constantly brush, twirl or play with their hair

‌They forget to brush their teeth waaay to often

‌They do not hesitate to slap or punch someone/something if angered enough

‌They always stop others from killing an insect and say that they'll just take them outside instead

‌Puts on waaay to much perfume or deodorant

‌They don't not clean their hand when they need to (ex. when eating something sticky or messy with their hands, when in the restroom...)

‌They must and always will pet every dog/cat they see in public (otherwise their day would be ruined)

‌Spends way to long playing videogames

‌Drinks way to many energy drinks

‌Litters (throws trash) in public

‌They blow a raspberry to people when annoyed (like a little kid)

‌They pick their nose

‌They have 2 or more pairs of the same outfit

‌They always talk about their (special) interests

‌No talking, only listening

‌No listening, only talking

‌They says certain words in another accent (ex. they could have an American accent, but say "bottle of water" in a stereotypical British accent)

‌MUST clean their glass/cup if someone else drank from it

‌They always keep their room fully dark (ex. the pull the curtains, turn off the lights, lower their phone brightness level (smart)...)

‌They get way to obsessed with their crush (not necessarily Yandere), but then move on or day that they don't like them after like a week or two (bonus points if they often gain new crushes and get tired of them)

‌They always use the little spoon to eat with (ex. Ice cream, cake, hot chocolate, maybe soupz yogurt...)

‌They spend more money on taking care of their pet then themselves (wether on buying food or just generally caring for them and their physical and mental state)

‌They say "like" or "bruh" a lot (bonus points if they mimicking someone else who talks like that)

‌They say "dude" or "bro" a lot [ <3 ] (also bonus points if they say that to girls too)

‌They laugh at someone making fun of them (which may or may not confuse the other person, your choice)

‌They may wish or even actually, purposely hurt themselves just for people to notice them

‌They can't force themselves to lie, or can, but always end up being s horrible liar

‌They only smoke a certain brand of cigarettes or drink only a certain type of alcohol

‌They swallow their gum if there isn't a trash can near by

‌The make thousands of plans... but end up only doing three or four...

‌(Or, refering to the above:) They make one plan, but end up getting distracted and doing a thousand of plans... but never actually completing any of them, just doing them halfway through.

‌They often feed birdd (like pigeons, crows, ravens...) when they have leftovers (like certain type of bread)

‌They extend their words and make them longer (ex. "Uhmmm", "Likeee...", "Soooo...", "Noooo...?")

‌They hav a bed, but usually end up sleeping on the floor (or on a rug) with their pillows and blankets to make it extra comfortable

‌They stick fake little ladybugs or something similar on flowerpots to make them more pretty or just for fun

‌Thay always take or spit out the seeds of a fruit when they're eating them (ex. watermelons, grapes, cherries...)

‌They put bread or certain fruit (ex. apples, bananas, pears...) in the fridge, even if they know it's not healthy

‌They will NOT eat a chocolate bar or anything similar of it's even slightly melted, they have to be cool and right out of the bridge

‌They accidentally water fake plants (that are close to real ones) (bonus points if they don't even realise it)

‌Their entire camera roll is filled with pictures of their pets, memes and screenshot, but never of themselves

‌They always use correct grammer while texting

‌They use emojis (wether un-ironically or not is up to you)

‌They tend to put random emojis that have nothing to do with the things they are talking about🐎

‌They always or never use shortcuts

‌They chat with themselves

‌They always tell other people (random or less know ones) fact about a subject they are talking about, even if the original speaker wasn't speaking to them

‌They mimic sounds or words of other people and often repeat them

‌They are quite forgetful

‌"My way or no way."

‌They are mostly a calm person with little to no energy, but sometimes they just become super active or energetic for no reason for a moment, kind of like how a cat get zoomies

‌They wear darker clothes, but their socks are always colourful

‌Their room has like 5 unwashed glass cups that they just never remember or care enough about to take out an clean

‌They often order delivery food rather then making something on their own

They use the auto-fill words on their phone and don't bother checking, so then stuff like "stereoscopical British accent" ends up being a message...

[princexess]

okay babe trust me on this.

if you want to smell edible:

vaseline

eos cashmere vanilla lotion

lush vanillary OR american cream solid perfume, either works

nemat vanilla musk perfume oil. i use the roll on

bath and body works viva vanilla

you will smell bomb as FUCK i swear

[stinkyturd]

thought you were gay and we could go on a road trip full of deepening friendship with subtlely sapphic yearning undertones when we trade life stories under starry skies and goofy jokes at gas stations, when I hold your hand for balance on a hike when really it's an excuse to be closer to you, where we'd eat terrible mcdonald's pancakes for breakfast in some random small town on the road and experience the oddly domestic calm of mornings together, lean a little too close when we're sharing music from our phones with each other, stare a little too long at your mouth under the guise of trying to understand what you're saying in that american accent of yours, share perfumes and shampoo because I like claiming your scent and the idea of you wearing mine but I'd totally just say it's because we're running low on the stuff and we should share, go to a fairground and win stuffed animals for each other with all the pride and dedication of a straight guy trying to win over the girl he likes even though we say we're just friends, and then we buy ice cream and sit shoulder to shoulder after we argued over who would pay for it, and it's quiet because I'm happy to just be in your company and enjoy a sweet treat, and maybe one day we'd get married and I'll have tasted other sweet treats with you and we'd have gone on dozens of road trips and neither of our families have to know we're anything more than best friends who live together because it's more affordable anyway in this economy than to be alone and searching for heartbreaking man after heartbreaking man, and we'd slow dance to christmas carols every year and every new years kiss will forever have the silly giddiness of being the first one...

but it turns out you just like pretty boys and twink guys 😔

LMFAOOOO, YOOOO. ☠️☠️☠️

(I like ANYONE pretty, but my heart is claimed by another, I'm sorry anon 🤧🤧🤧. This made me laugh even if it is just a copypasta, bahahaha!)

[hackoftheyear]

American Girl Doll inspired fake perfumes, Part 1

Molly- reading a long awaited letter in a sun warmed victory garden— but no turnips here! Dandelion and strawberry flowers, tomato vine, clean laundry drying on the line. Raspberry bush flowers and ripe raspberries make a juicy and rosey base with hints of greenery. 

Samantha- pink roses on white satin ribbon, thick icing on petit fours, an accord of creamy vanilla bean ice cream with a hint of salt and gingerbread. Base notes of gentle white musk and tonka bean. 

Marie Grace— A delicate china plate of sugar dusted beignets and rhubarb rose jam. A heart of medicinal lavender and a straw basket filled with magnolia flowers from the market. 

Cécile: apricot blossoms and thinly iced almond cakes. Airy violets and sparkling peonies play over a base of berry custard and velvet ribbons.  Felicity— A sugar cube on a slice of tart apple, the wind against your face as you ride your horse through a flowering meadow. A base of black tea and beeswax candles. 

[mashriqiyyah]

If we want to promote the boycott of is-not-reali products, we need to give substitutes and options for it.

Now, I also remember sisters asking me for my skincare/haircare routines, and I wanted to give a detailed article on that, but now it ain't about the time.

So, here, I'll try to compile these two topics.

Skincare that's effective without using any israeli/american product.

First of all, I don't have a skincare routine. I don't follow any step by step process. But, I do use products that help me keep my skin clean and hydrated.

And the most important advice I'll give to sisters is not to go for "skincare brands" that give pea sized products in bag size money. These industries are mostly scam. Always go for drugstore products. Those that are created for medicinal purposes oriented towards genuinely healing the skin problems. And if you don't have any active skin problems, don't expose your face to various products for achieving "perfect skin". There's nothing like that. Normal skins have occasional pimples, pigmentations, dark spots and uneven texture.

Anyway.

If you're going for drugstore products...

Go for phrama companies like Cipla and Reddy's Laboratories.

I personally use Reddy's Venusia Max moisturizer as my skin gets extremely dry often. If you have dry n normal (combination) skin you can use it. And if you have oily skin, go for squalane based moisturizers from Derma Co.

Next in line, if you want to use any serums, vit C is best for skins and there's a product by Cipla "Rivella Vit C and HA Serum" it's soothing, and effective. Alhamdulillah.

As a face cleanser or what you call as face wash, there are very brilliant new company products from DeConstruct that I love love love because they are so gentle on face and keep your pH balance and moisture intact (great substitute for Dove soap)

Then there's one more important aspect on skincare that's protection from UV...so you'll need a sunscreen. Go for Regaliz Truederma SPF 50. It's efficient. Alhamdulillah. Or Minimalist Suncreen spf 60 + Niacinamide incase you wanna go economically minimalistic. Derma Co Zinc Sunscreen is good too (one that comes in orange coloured pack)

Now, these four things are more than enough to keep your skin good.

Cleanser, Serum, Moisturizer, Sunblock.

Apart from that if you still wanna have some extra products...not from drugstore but excellent Indian brands...then Go for Pilgrim or Minimalist. They have best the ranges in every product.

And then comes Haircare...

Boycott Garnier. Boycott Loreal Paris. Boycott Head n Shoulders.

Go for St. Botanica. The Shampoos are sooooo great. Allahummaabaarik. SLS, Paraben Free, Actually formulated for cleaning dirt from hairs and reduce hair problems. Conditioners too are effective and they actually work as they advertise. If not St. Botanica, mamaearth would be good...but I didn't see it's results as best as St. Botanica.

For lipbalms though, you can go for Mamaearth. The shades are subtle and help keep your lips hydrated and avoid pigmentations. Stop using Ponds, Vaseline, Nivea. .PLEASE!!!! Their lipbalms do nothing but make your lips darker and greasy.

Makeup, I don't use tbh. But few years back, I had gotten a lipstick from MyGlamm and a Foundation of Biotique. They were good. You can go for it.

Bodywashes, Feet scrubs - Bodywise

Hair removal gels/creams - Sirona

Perfumes - Ajmal / Maison De Fouzdar are best. No doubt.

I'm sharing this post not to promote any sort of "self care" in this situation....but as an essential need of substitutes. Infact these substitutes are way better and effective than the Israeli American products we've been wasting our money on.

I have tried to mention most of the things used by women because that's the biggest market for Israeli products.

If you are an Indian, promote Indian brands 'cause we gotta "make in India" ;)

For that we need to use only that which is "made in India"

Go ahead...you can add anything else I might've missed. And yes...If any Mother's seeing this, let us know baby products that are made in India.

- Umm Taimiyyah 🕊️

[odinsblog]

Andrew was entering his third month of unemployment when he sat down at his computer and opened the inbox of his LinkedIn account. He’d received a response to a query he’d sent off four days after his friend-turned-manager walked him into a conference room swimming with sunlight, smelling of cologne and the faintest hint of perfume left behind by a group of attorneys who’d recently vacated the space after a five-hour meeting.

“I’m sorry, man,” Colin Perkins had said. Andrew’s eyes glided to the glass conference table, landing on the silver tray holding a molehill of bagels. He imagined they must be stale by now, having been left there uncovered in the icy office air.

Someone had planted the pointed end of a white plastic knife in an open container of chive-and-jalapeño cream cheese. It brought to mind the moon landing; all that was missing was a tiny American flag. A laugh trudged up his throat, but he disguised it as a cough.

“I told you,” Colin continued, raking his hands over his manicured Afro, “that the last to hire would be the first to go.”

A month earlier, seventeen women and two men had accused the CEO of the company of sexual misconduct. That news had plummeted the stock. The layoffs followed. Andrew had witnessed dozens of employees being escorted by security from the building like criminals. Now it was his turn.

Andrew nodded, placed a comforting hand on Daniel’s shoulder, and squeezed. The crisp cotton of Daniel’s shirt felt cool beneath his palm. “It’s okay, man, I understand. Don’t sweat it.”

He’d spent that first week revamping his résumé, calling friends and old colleagues, people who might know of a job opportunity at their own place of employment or elsewhere. He’d never had a LinkedIn account, but took the time to set one up. To conserve the little bit of savings he had, Andrew dropped his gym membership and went back to drinking tap water instead of the bottled Evian he loved. He gave up Starbucks coffee and the expensive cabernet sauvignon he purchased by the case.

By week three, he was spending his days on the couch, dressed in boxer shorts and sweat socks. He’d stopped opening the blinds and only went outside to empty the garbage. He whiled away the hours playing video games, and watching Netflix and Pornhub. Oftentimes, he went days without brushing his teeth.

When his mother called to check on him, Andrew lied, claiming he had several interviews lined up. When his father took the phone into another room to ask if he needed money, Andrew assured him that he was fine on the financial front, even though he wasn’t. He’d made up his mind to sell his Shelby Mustang before he took a dime from his parents. That was a big decision because he loved that car more than he’d ever loved any woman.

The day he opened the e-mail, the panic had just started to set in. He could feel it creeping along the back of his neck, like the soft scuttle of caterpillar legs.

From: OBF, INC.

To: Andrew Jamison

Dear Mr. Jamison,

We found your resume to be very interesting and believe that you would be the perfect addition to our dynamic team of Client Liaisons.

PAID TRAINING!

Affordable benefits for you, your spouse, and/or children after 90 days!

Opportunities to advance within!

Hourly, overtime, and tremendous bonus opportunities!

If you love helping others, then you will love working for OBF, INC.

OBF, INC. wants to talk to you now! To set up an interview TEXT OBF51893.

Liaison was just a fancy French word for customer service agent. Well, that was his skill set. Andrew was an expert at assisting people.

He texted the number and received an instant response that directed him to call a telephone number and enter his personal code: 1032.

An automated voice offered him two available interview dates. He was instructed to press 1 for the first date and 2 for the second. The mechanical voice told him that he would receive a call advising him where the interview would take place.

It all seemed very clandestine. Andrew was cynical, but his desperation outweighed his skepticism.

A day later, he received a call from a woman with a Southern drawl . . . Georgia, Alabama, Texas? He couldn’t quite pinpoint where she hailed from, but listening to her speak conjured visions of sweet tea and fireflies. She asked for his full government name and the code he’d received via text message. There was a pause, two clicks, and then the syrupy voice asked if he had a pen available. He did. After she’d rattled off the address, she wished him good luck. There were a few more clicks and then the line went dead.

He walked into the lobby of the forty-story office building and was struck by the contemporary opulence of the space. Marble floors, potted palms that towered eight feet into the air, white leather sofas, and a slick-looking Louboutin-red reception desk.

Andrew presented his license to the security guard and was given a name tag, which he clipped to the lapel of his ash-gray jacket. He was told to go to the eighteenth floor.

While waiting for the elevator, he perused the list of companies listed on a plaque mounted to the wall. OBF, Inc. was nowhere to be found.

He smirked, shrugged his shoulders, and stepped into the elevator. On the eighteenth floor, smack outside of the elevator door, was a sheet of lined legal paper taped haphazardly to the wall. Scrawled on its face in black marker was: This Way to OBF, INC. Below that was an arrow.

He started down the hall. A man the color of cedar and as tall as an NBA player speed-walked past him, mumbling to himself. Andrew thought he looked dazed, as if he’d just received news that a loved one had passed away.

“Good morning,” Andrew murmured.

The man turned eyes as wide as saucers on Andrew. He opened his mouth and muttered something that Andrew wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. The elevator doors slid open just as Andrew leaned in and asked, “Uhm, sorry, brother, but did you say run?”

The man leaped into the elevator, pressed his spine against the back wall, and fixed his eyes on the glass numbers above the closing doors.

Andrew stood blinking at his reflection in the chrome elevator doors. After a moment, he shrugged and continued down the hallway where he came upon a second handwritten sign directing him to turn left at the women’s bathroom. He rounded a corner and found himself staring at eleven men seated in folding chairs. They all looked up from their iPhones and Androids. Andrew nodded and headed toward the pretty blonde seated behind a metal desk.

“Good morning,” she smiled. “Name?”

“Andrew Jamison.”

“Okay, Mr. Jamison, please take a seat. Mrs. Americus will be with you shortly.”

He scrutinized his fellow applicants. They were all black men save for the one white guy with a man-bun who was called in as soon as Andrew sat down. Man-bun wasn’t in there long. In less than five minutes, cheeks flushed and cursing under his breath, he stormed across the reception area and out of sight.

Andrew clenched his jaw and made eye contact with another man across the room from him. He imagined the unease in the man’s eyes mirrored his own uncertainty.

“Andrew Jamison, Mrs. Americus will see you now. Just through that door.”

The door opened to a large office filled with cubicles and desks, manned by women tapping away on typewriters or murmuring into the handsets of—

Andrew slowed his gait.

Are those rotary telephones and, wait, Royal typewriters?

As Andrew gawked, a large man with a mustache as thick has a shoe brush appeared before him. Andrew glanced up and then quickly shifted his gaze away from the brawny man’s left eyelid, which was weighed down with a sty the size of a dime.

“In there,” the man huffed, aiming a chubby finger at a closed door not more than five feet from where they stood.

The office was as small as a janitor’s closet. And dark.

The lone window on the far left wall faced the shadowy back of a department store. Metal file cabinets lined the walls; some of the drawers were open, revealing manila folders bulging with papers. He could see, even in the muddy darkness of the room, a layer of dust atop the cabinets. Hanging on the walls were at least twenty framed photographs of people, all of whom were black.

The air was rife with the scent of cigarette smoke.

Andrew remembered people smoking at their desks when he went to visit his mother at her office job when he was young. Once, on a flight to Detroit with his grandmother, he stood at the back of the plane waiting to use the bathroom, and found himself engulfed in a cloud of smoke billowing from the cigarettes of three passengers.

He couldn’t recall the exact year cities around the country began banning smoking in bars and restaurants, but he was supremely aware that smokers had to be at least four hundred feet away from the entrance of any building if they wanted to light up.

Yet here was this woman, puffing away like it was 1975. Andrew eyed the near-empty box of Winstons and then the woman. She was robust—a meat-and-potatoes sort of gal, with doughy cheeks and large blue eyes. Her sun-bleached blond hair fanned back from her face—a style made famous by the eighties icon Farrah Fawcett. Her lips were slathered in tangerine-colored lipstick. The same color rung the filters of a dozen long-dead Winston butts heaped in the black ceramic ashtray. Andrew thought, If she’s going for clown instead of glamour, well, bull’s-eye!

Ornate rings twinkled on seven of her ten fingers, the rose-gold chain she wore around her neck dribbled down her chest and disappeared into her cleavage. She looked to be in her midfifties.

“Good morning, Mr. Jamison. Please have a seat.” Her eyes remained glued to the sheet of paper clutched in her hands. Andrew assumed it was his résumé.

He sat down.

“You graduated from Brown University?”

“Y-yes, I did. I graduated summa cum laude in 1990.”

Her desk was cluttered with newspaper clippings; stacks of aging yellowed papers, and dated fashion magazines. Andrew’s eyebrows climbed. Was that Marcia from the seventies sitcom The Brady Bunch on the cover of that Glamour magazine?

Andrew chuckled to himself. This had to be an elaborate joke. Someone was putting him on. His eyes ranged around the office in search of a concealed camera.

“Impressive,” she said finally, looking him directly in the eye. “Do you have a wife?”

“S-sorry?”

“Are you married, Mr. Jamison?”

“No, I’m not.”

She searched his face. “Are you gay?”

Andrew bristled. “Mrs. Americus, I don’t think you’re legally allowed to ask me that question.”

She smirked.

“It’s a yes-or-no question, Mr. Jamison. I know it’s unusual, but believe me, for this position I would need to know.”

His rent was due tomorrow and then again in thirty more days. His savings were dwindling. “No, I’m not gay.”

“Do you have children?”

“One daughter, she’s twenty-two years old.”

“Do you have a good relationship with your daughter? With the mother?”

“Yes.”

Mrs. Americus glanced at his résumé. “Perfect.” She reached for the dying cigarette and brought it to her lips. “And according to your application, you’ve never been arrested. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we will be doing a background check.”

“Understood.”

“Do you have any bad habits? Do you use narcotics?”

“No ma’am.”

“Any . . . um . . . undesirable recreational activities?”

“Undesirable?”

“Porn? Well, not just porn. Kiddie porn.”

Andrew’s mouth fell open.

“No judgment, Mr. Jamison. Again, I just need to know.”

“No, I do not watch kiddie porn,” Andrew spat.

“Good!” she exclaimed, drumming her fingers on the desk. “Let me tell you the specifics of the job . . .”

Some of the faces behind the glass frames looked familiar. Again Andrew found himself squinting. Was that Omarosa? He pitched forward in his chair.

Mrs. Americus stopped talking and followed his gaze. “Um, yes,” she spouted. “That is who you think it is. She’s been one of our best recruits.”

Andrew swallowed.

Mrs. Americus stubbed out her cigarette and laced her fingers under her chin. “Some of our liaisons work directly with government agencies. That’s a promotion of sorts. Of course, before you can be assigned to the big house—I mean the White House—you’d first have to prove yourself out in the field.” She giggled. “In the field. You get it? It’s a double entendre.”

Andrew’s mouth went dry.

She twisted around in the chair and pointed to a photograph of a pair of middle-aged women standing shoulder to shoulder, each holding a red MAGA baseball cap. “Those ladies are Diamond and Silk. Do you know them?”

Andrew shot out up from the chair. For a moment, he thought his knees would buckle. “What does OBF stand for?”

Mrs. Americus reached for the pack of cigarettes. “OBF stands for One Black Friend.”

“One Black Friend?”

“Yes. You see, in these troubling times, times where so many people are labeling white people as racist, we need black people to stand up for us—to have our backs, as your people are fond of saying. Sometimes, Mr. Jamison, a God-fearing, good white person may be accused of a crime or some other offense perpetrated against a person of color, and when the accused does not have a person of color in his circle, it looks bad. The public may see him . . . or her, as a racist simply because their circle is . . . white. Lily.

“And that’s wrong. Not having black friends does not make a white person racist by default. Anyway,” she waved her hand, “that’s where OBF comes in. We provide that one black friend. That one black friend introduces doubt, and more often than not, that doubt diminishes a large percentage of the negative impact our clients might face.”

Andrew just stared.

“Oh, Mr. Jamison, don’t look so shocked. This practice has been around for centuries.” She pointed to the far wall near the window. “You see that guy there? He was actually the inspiration for this company.”

Andrew peered at the photograph. “Who is he?”

“Joe Oliver.”

“Joe Oliver?”

“Yeah, Joe Oliver. You don’t remember him? Joe Oliver, George Zimmerman’s one black friend.” Mrs. Americus raised a black ceramic coffee mug to her lips and sipped. The red decal on the side of the mug read: Black Tears.

Andrew’s stomach lurched, perspiration beading across his forehead. “This is some kind of joke, right?”

“Oh, I assure you this is not a joke and I am very serious. As serious as a heart attack. Is that how the saying goes? As serious as a heart attack?”

Andrew started toward the door.

“Wait, Mr. Jamison. Look here.” She pointed at a photograph hanging above the row of filing cabinets. “This is another one of our liaisons. Since he’s been working for us, he’s paid off his student loans and I understand that he’s just recently purchased a Cadillac.”

Andrew followed her index finger to the photo of a grinning black man holding a Blacks for Trump sign above his head like a trophy.

“Shall we talk about salary?”

The lights flickered.

He thought, Maybe I’m still asleep. Maybe this is a nightmare.

“Andrew? I can see you’re having a hard time processing all of this. But really, it’s not as uncommon as you might think. We live in America, this is a capitalist country, and we monetize everything. Everything.”

Andrew couldn’t remember reaching for the doorknob, but suddenly he was stumbling through the reception area.

He fled down the corridor, rounded the first corner and then the next. A slight man the color of honeyed milk stepped from the elevator. He wore a yellow dress shirt with a red bow tie. His dark-blue khakis were flooded just enough to offer a wink of his orange-and-navy argyle socks.

Upon Andrew’s frantic approach, the startled stranger stepped swiftly out of his path. Andrew didn’t make eye contact. He jabbed at the elevator button until the doors slid open.

Weeks later, Andrew was seated in a truck-stop diner with his fork poised over a plate of scrambled eggs and corned beef hash.

The mounted television was tuned to Fox News. The anchor reported that yet another young black man had been gunned down by a vigilante, another Good Samaritan, named Christopher Parks.

Christopher Parks was heading home from his job as a sanitation man when he spotted young Daniel Latham sitting in Starbucks, dozing over his law textbooks. Parks entered the establishment, woke Latham with a tap to his shoulder, and asked if he lived in the area. According to eyewitnesses, Latham replied that he did in fact live in the neighborhood. Parks demanded to see Latham’s ID and was met with laughter. The law student gathered his belongings and stood to leave—rather menacingly, one eyewitness reported.

That was when Christopher Parks pulled his weapon and fired. The stunned Latham, still laughing, crumpled into his chair and pressed his hand over the whole in his heart. It wasn’t until he saw the blood that the smile slipped from his lips and he began to cry.

The cops were called, but not an ambulance. Well, not immediately.

The police shackled Latham to the chair and took Parks to the police station for questioning. The woman behind the counter gave Parks a high five and a tall Caffè Mocha to go.

By the time an ambulance arrived, Daniel Latham was dead, having bled out all over his take-home final exam.

In the days that followed, it was revealed that Daniel Latham had several unpaid parking tickets and was thrice fined for not scooping his dog’s poop. Not only that—he was also a practicing Buddhist who supported a woman’s right to choose.

A search of Latham’s apartment unearthed a well-worn copy of Alex Haley’s The Autobiography of Malcolm X, which was on his nightstand alongside Jay-Z’s Decoded. This discovery was further evidence that Latham was no angel.

Laura Ingraham looked directly into the camera and told her viewers that Christopher Parks was a hero, a polite and well-spoken man who had been raised by his father after his mother died from breast cancer when he was just three years old. Yes, as a youth, Christopher had been suspended from school for fighting, and as a young man he’d beaten a girlfriend with a pipe. Later, when he was in his early thirties, he’d threatened to castrate his boss—a black man old enough to be his grandfather. All of that behavior, Laura Ingraham said, was directly connected to the trauma of losing a mother at such a tender age.

She paused, and in that moment her entire face pulsed with empathy. “That said,” she continued, “Al Sharpton, along with the Black Lives Matter terrorist organization, have labeled Christopher Parks a racist and are calling for his arrest.” She shook her head and chuckled. “Earlier today, I had the pleasure of speaking with Christopher’s longtime best friend, Andrew Jamison . . .”

Andrew lowered his fork, reached for his shades, and slipped them onto his face.

—OBF, Inc., a short story by Bernice L. McFadden

[drreamgirls]

‣✽.  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

Adeline Tsoy (active) / biography here

(suicide tw, disordered eating mentions)

basics:

full name: Adeline Tsoy / nicknames: Lin gender: female sexuality: lesbian pronouns:  she/her aesthetics: pale, misty mornings, watching cigarette smoke slip away like a scarf in the wind. cherry-red sweet lipstick. Daffodils dripping with rainwater. The silhouettes of lovers sitting at the end of a dock, everything the deepest blue. age:  32 date of birth: October 29 zodiac sign:  Scorpio residence:  Brooklyn occupation: ballerina / ballet teacher & artist

appearance:

faceclaim:  Aya Shalkar height:  1,71 ethnicity: chinese, khazhakstani, american. build:  lean and slightly toned. eyes: blue hair:  signature shock of long, raven-black hair piercings: 11 tattoos:  left thigh, right inner thigh, left breast, back of neck style:  tiny dresses, lots of silver jewelry, thigh high leather boots, vintage pieces, mix and matching. loves long stylish coats paired with short skirts and boots. Velvet suits and always wearing multiple rings on every finger. voice: velvety and surprisingly smoky

personality:

traits: aloof, witty, sharp tongue, stoic, optimistic, generally pleasant and approachable, although she suffers from "resting bitch face". graceful, the kind of person where you want to move closer to them yet they have this sense of otherworldly ethereality to them that makes a person want to be worthy of them somehow... energetic and determined. optimistic even though she is often so full of stress. likes: arts. Books. Going to the cinema, cooking for her friends, cats and birds. dislikes: misery, pessimism, bullies, general unpleasant people. being told what to do. Being taken for granted. Men. fears:  death / being alone forever phobias:  heights hobbies:  she likes reading, the occasional video game and traveling. archery. skills:  dancing, excellent at all kinds of crafts, drawing/painting. Cooking. quirks/habits:  has a collection of perfumes, always ends up skipping meals, beautiful handwriting. prefers the countryside, has nothing figured out, a1 sense of humor, impulsive decisions. always prepared for the worst, craves warmth, hates staying at home, bold eye makeup, iced drinks. smokes. pet peeves:  lies/white lies, indecision, pessimistic, mean miserable people / bad & dangerous driving

faves:

ice cream flavor: lemon or mango time of the day / night: dawn when everything is soft and quiet weather:  sunny breakfast food:  oatmeal & sweet coffee / eggs and avocado / she wakes up early and makes elaborate breakfasts usually dinner food:  soup / salad, she eats lighter during the day, her biggest meal is her breakfast colors:  lilacs and black songs:  Femininomenon by Chappell Roan is her song, but she listens to a lot of classical music and indie/folk rock

other random stuff:

a cherished item: her ex-girlfriend's ring that she still wears usual mood: restless / moody 1 thing they want to do / experience before they die: make her own family / be happy defining moments:  her mother’s death / breaking up with her long term girlfriend / first love

family:

half younger sister, estranged father, her friends are her family (mother killed herself when she was 12)

‣✽ BIOGRAPHY HERE ! (Adeline)

‣✽ BIOGRAPHY HERE ! (Isabelle)