#african american hair loss

[myninaross]

Gro & Glo Oil

Gro’ & Glo’ Oil is crafted with a supreme mixture of oils proven to grow longer, stronger, and healthier-looking hair of all types and textures. Our formula is packed with nutritious vitamins, minerals, and amino acids that support scalp health and hair growth.

[dr-diep]

https://reddit.com/user/Separate_Weather_132/comments/18vrtpl/the_best_hair_transplant_doctors_for_african/

The Best Hair Transplant Doctors for African Americans - Dr. John Diep

Are you on the hunt for the best hair transplant doctors for African Americans? Look no further! In this guide, we'll explore the world of hair restoration, spotlighting the amazing work of Dr. Diep. Get ready to discover what makes him the expert choice for achieving natural-looking results tailored to the unique needs of African American hair.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

FCC strikes a blow against prison profiteering

TOMORROW NIGHT (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

Here's a tip for policymakers hoping to improve the lives of the most Americans with the least effort: help prisoners.

After all, America is the most prolific imprisoner of its own people of any country in world history. We lock up more people than Stalin, than Mao, more than Botha, de Klerk or any other Apartheid-era South African president. And it's not just America's vast army of the incarcerated who are afflicted by our passion for imprisonment: their families and friends suffer, too.

That familial suffering isn't merely the constant pain of life without a loved one, either. America's prison profiteers treat prisoners' families as ATMs who can be made to pay and pay and pay.

This may seem like a losing strategy. After all, prison sentences are strongly correlated with poverty, and even if your family wasn't desperate before the state kidnapped one of its number and locked them behind bars, that loved one's legal defense and the loss of their income is a reliable predictor of downward social mobility.

Decent people don't view poor people as a source of riches. But for a certain kind of depraved sadist, the poor are an irresistible target. Sure, poor people don't have much money, but what they lack even more is protection under the law ("conservativism consists of the principle that there is an in-group whom the law protects but does not bind, and an out-group whom the law binds but does not protect" -Wilhoit). You can enjoy total impunity as you torment poor people, make them so miserable and afraid for their lives and safety that they will find some money, somewhere, and give it to you.

Mexican cartels understand this. They do a brisk trade in kidnapping asylum seekers whom the US has illegally forced to wait in Mexico to have their claims processed. The families of refugees – either in their home countries or in the USA – are typically badly off but they understand that Mexico will not lift a finger to protect a kidnapped refugee, and so when the kidnappers threaten the most grisly tortures as a means of extracting ransom, those desperate family members do whatever it takes to scrape up the blood-money.

What's more, the families of asylum seekers are not much better off than their kidnapped loved ones when it comes to seeking official protection. Family members who stayed behind in human rights hellholes like Bukele's El Salvador can't get their government to lodge official complaints with the Mexican ambassador, and family members who made it to the USA are in no position to get their Congressjerk to intercede with ICE or the Mexican consulate. This gives Mexico's crime syndicates total latitude to kidnap, torture, and grow rich by targeting the poorest, most desperate people in the world.

The private contractors that supply services to America's prisons are basically Mexican refugee-kidnappers with pretensions and shares listed on the NYSE. After decades of consolidation, the prison contracting sector has shrunk to two gigantic companies: Securus and Viapath (formerly Global Tellink). These private-equity backed behemoths dominate their sector, and have diversified, providing all kinds of services, from prison cafeteria meals to commissary, the prison stores where prisoners can buy food and other items.

If you're following closely, this is one of those places where the hair on the back of your neck starts to rise. These companies make money when prisoners buy food from the commissary, and they're also in charge of the quality of the food in the mess hall. If the food in the mess hall is adequate and nutritious, there's no reason to buy food from the commissary.

This is what economists call a "moral hazard." You can think of it as the reason that prison ramen costs 300% more than ramen in the free world:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/20/captive-market/#locked-in

(Not just ramen: in America's sweltering prisons, an 8" fan costs $40, and the price of water went up in Texas prisons by 50% during last summer's heatwave.)

It's actually worse than that: if you get sick from eating bad prison food, the same company that poisoned you gets paid to operate the infirmary where you're treated:

https://theappeal.org/massachusetts-prisons-wellpath-dentures-teeth/

Now, the scam of abusing prisoners to extract desperate pennies from their families is hardly new. There's written records of this stretching back to the middle ages. Nor is this pattern a unique one: making an unavoidable situation as miserable as possible and then upcharging people who have the ability to pay to get free of the torture is basically how the airlines work. Making coach as miserable as possible isn't merely about shaving pennies by shaving inches off your legroom: it's a way to "incentivize" anyone who can afford it to pay for an upgrade to business-class. The worse coach is, the more people you can convince to dip into their savings or fight with their boss to move classes. The torments visited upon everyone else in coach are economically valuable to the airlines: their groans and miseries translate directly into windfall profits, by convincing better-off passengers to pay not to have the same thing done to them.

Of course, with rare exceptions (flying to get an organ transplant, say) plane tickets are typically discretionary. Housing, on the other hand, is a human right and a prerequisite for human thriving. The worse things are for tenants, the more debt and privation people will endure to become home-owners, so it follows that making renters worse off makes homeowners richer:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/06/the-rents-too-damned-high/

For Securus and Viapath, the path to profitability is to lobby for mandatory, long prison sentences and then make things inside the prison as miserable as possible. Any prisoner whose family can find the funds can escape the worst of it, and all the prisoners who can't afford it serve the economically important function of showing the prisoners whose families can afford it how bad things will be if they don't pay.

If you're thinking that prisoners might pay Securus, Viapath and their competitors out of their own prison earnings, forget it. These companies have decided that the can make more by pocketing the difference between the vast sums paid by third parties for prisoners' labor and the pennies the prisoners get from their work. Remember, the 13th Amendment specifically allows for the enslavement of incarcerated people! Six states ban paying prisoners at all. North Carolina caps prisoners' wages at one dollar per day. The national average prison wage is $0.52/hour. Prisoners' labor produces $11b/year in goods and services:

https://www.dollarsandsense.org/archives/2024/0324bowman.html

Forced labor and extortion are a long and dishonorable tradition in incarceration, but this century saw the introduction of a novel, exciting way of extracting wealth from prisoners and their families. It started when private telcos took over prison telephones and raised the price of a prison phone call. These phone companies found willing collaborators in local jail and prison systems: all they had to do was offer to split the take with the jailers.

With the advent of the internet, things got far worse. Digitalization meant that prisons could replace the library, adult educations, commissary accounts, letter-mail, parcels, in-person visits and phone calls with a single tablet. These cheaply made tablets were offered for free to prisoners, who lost access to everything from their kids' handmade birthday cards to in-person visits with those kids.

In their place, prisoners' families had to pay huge premiums to have their letters scanned so that prisoners could pay (again) to view those scans on their tablets. Instead of in-person visits, prisoners families had to pay $3-10/minute for a janky, postage-stamp sized video. Perversely, jails and prisons replaced their in-person visitation rooms with rooms filled with shitty tablets where family members could sit and videoconference with their incarcerated loved ones who were just a few feet away:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

Capitalists hate capitalism. The capital classes are on a relentless search for markets with captive customers and no competitors. The prison-tech industry was catnip for private equity funds, who bought and "rolled" up prison contractors, concentrating the sector into a duopoly of debt-laden companies whose ability to pay off their leveraged buyouts was contingent on their ability to terrorize prisoners' families into paying for their overpriced, low-quality products and services.

One particularly awful consequence of these rollups was the way that prisoners could lose access to their data when their prison's service-provider was merged with a rival. When that happened, the IT systems would be consolidated, with the frequent outcome that all prisoners' data was lost. Imagine working for two weeks to pay for a song or a book, or a scan of your child's handmade Father's Day card, only to have the file deleted in an IT merger. Now imagine that you're stuck inside for another 20 years.

This is a subject I've followed off and on for years. It's such a perfect bit of end-stage capitalist cruelty, combining mass incarceration with monopolies. Even if you're not imprisoned, this story is haunting, because on the one hand, America keeps thinking of new reasons to put more people behind bars, and on the other hand, every technological nightmare we dream up for prisoners eventually works its way out to the rest of us in a process I call the "shitty technology adoption curve." As William Gibson says, "The future is here, it's just not evenly distributed" – but the future sure pools up thick and dystopian around America's prisoners:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

My background interest in the subject got sharper a few years ago when I started working on The Bezzle, my 2023 high-tech crime thriller about prison-tech grifters:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

One of the things that was on my mind when I got to work on that book was the 2017 court-case that killed the FCC's rules limit interstate prison-call gouging. The FCC could have won that case, but Trump's FCC chairman, Ajit Pai, dropped it:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2017/06/prisoners-lose-again-as-court-wipes-out-inmate-calling-price-caps/

With that bad precedent on the books, the only hope prisoners had for relief from the FCC was for Congress to enact legislation specifically granting the agency the power to regulate prison telephony. Incredibly, Congress did just that, with Biden signing the "Martha Wright-Reed Just and Reasonable Communications Act" in early 2023:

https://www.congress.gov/bill/117th-congress/senate-bill/1541/text

With the new law in place, it fell to the FCC use those newfound powers. Compared to agencies like the FTC and the NLRB, Biden's FCC has been relatively weak, thanks in large part to the Biden administration's refusal to defend its FCC nomination for Gigi Sohn, a brilliant and accomplished telecoms expert. You can tell that Sohn would have been a brilliant FCC commissioner because of the way that America's telco monopolists and their allies in the senate (mostly Republicans, but some Democrats, too) went on an all-out offensive against her, using the fact that she is gay to smear her and ultimately defeat her nomination:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/19/culture-war-bullshit-stole-your-broadband/

But even without Sohn, the FCC has managed to do something genuinely great for America's army of the imprisoned. This week, the FCC voted in price-caps on prison calls, so that call rates will drop from $11.35 for 15 minutes to just $0.90. Both interstate and intrastate calls will be capped at $0.06-0.12/minute, with a phased rollout starting in January:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/07/fcc-closes-final-loopholes-that-keep-prison-phone-prices-exorbitantly-high/

It's hard to imagine a policy that will get more bang for a regulator's buck than this one. Not only does this represent a huge savings for prisoners and their families, those savings are even larger in proportion to their desperate, meager finances.

It shows you how important a competent, qualified regulator is. When it comes to political differences between Republicans and Democrats, regulatory competence is a grossly underrated trait. Trump's FCC Chair Ajit Pai handed out tens of billions of dollars in public money to monopoly carriers to improve telephone networks in underserved areas, but did so without first making accurate maps to tell him where the carriers should invest. As a result, that money was devoured by executive bonuses and publicly financed dividends and millions of Americans entered the pandemic lockdowns with broadband that couldn't support work-from-home or Zoom school. When Biden's FCC chair Jessica Rosenworcel took over, one of her first official acts was to commission a national study and survey of broadband quality. Republicans howled in outrage:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/10/digital-redlining/#stop-confusing-the-issue-with-relevant-facts

The telecoms sector has been a rent-seeking, monopolizing monster since the days of Samuel Morse:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/18/the-bell-system/#were-the-phone-company-we-dont-have-to-care

Combine telecoms and prisons, and you get a kind of supermonster, the meth-gator of American neofeudalism:

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/tennessee-police-warn-locals-not-flush-drugs-fear-meth-gators-n1030291

The sector is dirty beyond words, and it corrupts everything it touches – bribing prison officials to throw out all the books in the prison library and replace them with DRM-locked, high-priced ebooks that prisoners must toil for weeks to afford, and that vanish from their devices whenever a prison-tech company merges with a rival:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/02/captive-customers/#guillotine-watch

The Biden presidency has been fatally marred by the president's avid support of genocide, and nothing will change that. But for millions of Americans, the Biden administration's policies on telecoms, monopoly, and corporate crime have been a source of profound, lasting improvements.

It's not just presidents who can make this difference. Millions of America's prisoners are rotting in state and county jails, and as California has shown, state governments have broad latitude to kick out prison profiteers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/08/captive-audience/#good-at-their-jobs

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/19/martha-wright-reed/#capitalists-hate-capitalism

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

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[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (13) - Shall We?

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 13 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 9,681

Work count for Story: 96,460

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, comfort, possessiveness, angst, major mentions of past trauma, Violence, Loss of pregnancy, and Alpha fronting.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Knockknockknock

Startling you out of your depressing thoughts, you call out, “Who is it? I am in the bath still.”

“Ma’am, I am Bethan Ann, Omegan Alaskan Bear Hybrid and head of the preparation team. Prime Alpha Kim sent us to get you ready for the Gala. Whenever you are ready, please come out,” calls a sweet voice.

“Oh, is it really that time already?” you comment.

“Yes, ma’am but no worries, we have plenty of time. Prime Alpha Kim stressed the importance of going at your pace to ensure your relaxation,” Bethany Ann informs. “We will wait for you in the living room.”

You think whelp time for solitude is over as you climb out of the bath and dry off. You have to remember that in the future, you can ask the boys for anything, even alone time. They have told you that, and so has their manager, Sejin. 

After slipping on Namjoon’s robe, you cannot help but smile as the scent of leather blends with the vanilla from your bath. Surprisingly, it is a delightful mix. The vanilla softens the leather, offering comfort and a sense of safety. 

Namjoon is the leather boy of the group. Being a Prime Alpha, it makes sense that his scent is naturally stronger. It makes it easier for him to leave his scent behind as a show of possession and territory.

Walking out of the bathroom, a blush settles over your cheeks at the thought of having the Alaskan Timber Wolf hybrid claim possession over you. 

“Ma’am?” asks a younger woman standing at your doorway. “If you please, would you follow me to the living room? Bethany Ann thought that it would be easier for the Alphas of the house to watch you from there without being in the way.”

“Sure, but you won’t have to worry about them. Jimin and Yoongi know to stay out of the area,” you mention, following behind her.

“True, I believe it was the two of them that may have dragged the third one away,” she giggles.

“Oh? Third one? Jungkook?” Your confusion is showing.

“Ah yes, he wasn’t happy with Bethany Ann being present since she is of hybrid descent,” the young lady smiled softly. “He was worried about scent tainting, but Miss Bethany Ann doesn’t have any scent glands.”

“Yep, I was born with them but they weren’t very strong. My mother was human, and my father was a hybrid, which means I only got the smaller scent glands, fluffy hair, body structure, and strange sleeping habits,” Bethany Ann says as she joins the conversation. 

“Oh, I didn’t know that traits would pass down like that,” you say in awe. 

“There are more hybrid mixed humans out there than people are aware of. Many end up losing their physical animal features but keep some of the other behavioral or physical traits.” Bethany Ann smiles.

“How can you not have a scent but you have scent glands?”

Bethany Ann’s smile falters, but before you can withdraw your question, she says, “Bears have glands in either their hands or feet.  I ended up with skin cancer that spread to the scent glands in my feet. I was lucky enough that we caught it and removed the infected tissues before it got any farther.”

“Anyways, we are here to turn you from the pretty woman you already are into a gorgeous princess ready for her ball right?” Bethan Ann says as she has you sit in a salon chair. 

Everything before you that is set up on the vanity before you look brand new: makeup, jewelry, and hair pieces. Bethany Ann is the principal stylist and has two human assistants: Cindy and Kat. 

Bethany Ann oversees your makeup, Cindy works on your hair, and Kat deals with your nails. Soon enough, the three of you laugh, and it feels like you have known them for years. 

You learn that Bethany Ann met Cindy and Kat, a mom-and-kid duo rocking the Cosmetic industry, during BTS’s Love Yourself World Tour. They were set to go on the Map of the Soul tour, which got canceled. However, they got along so well and had an equal love for Ateez that they made their own line of cosmetics called MayNell.

You notice a purple, white, and silver trend in all of the choices. “I take it my dress is purple or white?”

“Ah, well we have a few choices for you that are either purple, white, silver, or black. Namjoon already has his suit ready and we will match his accessories to the color of your dress,” Bethany Ann informs you.

It seems time flies when you are having fun.

Kat, you had learned, is gender fluid, born female. Their mom, Cindy, was a widow and that “cat friend” that everyone had. Both were human but found themselves more comfortable around hybrids than anyone else. 

“Oh yeah, I… you guys were amazing. I feel great and relaxed because of you three,” you sigh. “I just wish I could see you again. Can we exchange numbers?”

“Oh of course! In fact, I am sure if you bat your eyes a little and let those boys know that you want us around we can find a way to become your primary team,” suggests Cindy. 

“Really?” You question with your hopes up as you hand over your phone. “I couldn’t flat out ask Namjoon for that. You have others to work on.”

“Actually, we are contracted. Which means we can take on any client we want, if the proposal to be your prep team comes by our desk…” Bethany Ann looks at the other two, “I don’t think any of us would be against it.”

Taking back your phone, you think about the proposal. Could you ask for that? You are just a Playmate. It’s not like you will be in front of the camera that often, right?

You got along with all of them, but Bethany Ann felt more like a sister, like how your Omega Evie felt. You could easily see her getting along with your family pack, but now wasn’t the time to add new members. 

You learned that as a hybrid descendant, she didn’t have a “predominant” second gender like full-fledged hybrids, but she identified as a Beta. When she was younger, she hated being a part of the hybrid “collective,” as she used to call it until she was an adult.

She got her college degree in fashion and cosmetics and started working under JYP. While working under JYP, she met several Idols and ended up working with StrayKids. She admitted that she now follows the hybrid culture because of one of the StrayKids members. This led to an almost hour-long session for all four of you about StrayKids. 

You confess that your Bias is Flix and your wrecker is Chan, which causes the others to almost fall off their chairs in laughter.

“Chan as in Bang Chan aka Christopher?” asks Bethany Ann.

“Well yeah, not Changbin though I used to get their names confused at the beginning because I knew Chan as Chris but that man has like so many names. I mean heck one of them even has numbers in it!.” 

You look at Bethany Ann as she continues to laugh but pulls out her phone.

She puts her phone on speaker, and you hear it ringing a few times before a voice comes on, “Hey, babydoll, aren’t you working right now?”

Your eyes turn to saucers as you hear the Australian accent in the voice over the phone. Involuntarily, you let out an unladylike gasp of “no way in hell” and cover your mouth, looking rapidly between the phone and the bear hybrid. 

“Hi Channie, I am at work and my client turns out to be a StrayKids stan,” she says with a giggle still in her voice.

“Oh, was that her in the background that I heard?” Chan asks. Of course, he would hear it. Like most idols, StrayKids has only two human members but Chan, the leader and Alpha, is a Tasmania Tiger-wolf hybrid.

Shaking your head, your eyes still unblinking, you attempt to stop Bethany Ann from bringing the phone closer to you. 

“You got it. Guess who her bias is?” teases Bethan Ann.

“Me?” questions the Aussie with a hilt of excitement.

“Nope sorry love. It’s Felix-ah. Is he nearby? Though maybe she could say hi,” inquires Bethany Ann.

“Nononononono,” you hiss quietly, “Bethany Ann… noo.”

However, to your luck(??), you hear Chan’s muffled yelling before he gets back on the phone, “Can I talk to the Stay, babydoll?”

You let out an undignified eek sound, which caused another laughing fit and a laugh from the phone: “Wait, wait… did you tell her?”

“Nope. Guess I should though. Y/n, Christopher is my mate. We found out the first time I worked with StrayKids, he courted me and it's been official for a little over a year.”

“Oh my god! My wrecker is Mated! I am sorry! I can pick someone else. I promise!”

Again, you are met with more laughter from everyone. “Babydoll, let me talk to my Stay.”

“You are on speakerphone, and her name is Y/n, and technically, she is Felix-ah’s Stay,” Bethan Ann says as she places the phone in your hand. You just look at it.

“Hello Y/n, I am Bang Chan, leader of StrayKids. Thank you for being a stan of my pack,” he says smoothly, his Aussie accent coming out the more he speaks. 

“Hi,” is all you can say. 

“You don’t have to worry about picking a different wrecker. Bethany Ann knows that I have people who like me. While I can’t say that I am happy to only be your wrecker, I can say that I am honored to have a fan who would respect my mate as well as you do.”

“Hey, Innie said you wanted me, Alpha?” A very deep-voiced Felix is heard through the phone, causing your breath to catch.

“Bethany called and wanted us to talk to someone. Here. Say hi and introduce yourself properly,” Chris says before you can hear the phone move around.

“안녕하세요, 저는 StrayKids의 Felix입니다. 잘 지내시죠?” the deep voice says. 

It’s at that moment you die. 

Like almost literally. 

It isn’t till Bethany Ann nudges your shoulder that you respond, “안녕하세요, Felix-ssi.”

“Oh, Y/n speaks Korean? She was speaking English,” you hear Chris comment in the back.

“Y/n, do you prefer English?” asks Felix.

You nod, then remember this is over the phone, “Ah yes, please. I know Korean... kinda but I am American so English is my first language. Icanspeakineitherwhicheveryouwantmeto.”

You hear a chuckle rumble over the speaker as Felix understands what he got brought into. Dropping his voice into his lower register, Felix asks,  “Y/n, you wouldn’t happen to be one of our lovely Stays would you?”

Your palms are sweating as you answer, “I am.”

“Hmm…” he almost growls. “I take it from Channie-hyung’s face that he isn’t your bias then?”

From the background, Chris comments, “I am her wrecker, at least.”

“That’s very nice,” Felix says, causing you to giggle softly. “I would think it would be even more nice if that meant… I was your bias, Y/n. Am I?”

“Ah huh,” you affirm, as you cannot believe you are even having this conversation.

 StrayKids is known for not working with any Playmate service companies, so you knew you would only get to meet or talk to them if you could only find a way to afford a fan meet or a send-off.

“Well now you at least have talked to us, Y/n.” Felix states.

“Shit. I said that outloud?” you question, looking around only to have the team trying their best not to die from laughter.

“Yes, you did, but that is okay, you're mine, and any friend of noona’s is a friend of ours,” the blonde Aussie says.

“Careful now, Felix-ah. Y/n-noona is Bangtan’s newest Playmate and my client. So keep the flirting to a minimum thank you,” Bethany Ann playfully scolds the boy. 

“Alright, noona, I will behave, but you have to find a way for her to come see us. I would still love to meet her,” says Felix with a whine.

“That is if she can get away from Bangtan Pack,” Chris pipes up.

“두 분이 계시네요,” another voice joins in . “이제 행사장으로 갈 시간입니다.”

“Okay Innie,” Felix agrees. “Oh wait, INNNNIIEEE.”

“뭐가 필요하세요, Lix?” the voice, now known as Innie, says.

“Say hi to my Stay Y/n-noona,” Felix instructs. “In english.”

“Oh. Hi noona! I am Jeong-In. You may be Lix’s stay for now but don’t worry. I will save you!”

“Yah!!!” you hear before a clattering noise takes over. 

“Jeong-In-ssi, Felix-ssi, Chan-ssi???!!!” you exclaim.

“Got it!” Chan says, picking up the line. “Innie always tries to convince Felix's stans to fall for him instead. No worries, noona. It’s all fun and games. But yeah, you should come see us one day,” Chris affirms.

“I hate to cut this short but we really do have to get over to MusicBank. Babydoll, you know what to do. See you when you get a chance,” Chan says before the line goes dead.

“I cannot believe you!” you playfully slap Bethany Ann’s shoulder. “I was not prepared! Like you cannot just call up someone like that!”

“Sorry, but I couldn’t help it after your 5- —or was it a 10-minute speech about why Chan is the best leader and how amazing Felix was for persevering,” Bethany Ann smiles at you and goes back to getting you ready.

(NOTE: If you would like to see what is being described, please go to American Mate- LACMA Gala with Namjoon)

After trying on a few gorgeous dresses, your heart stuttered in your chest when you tried on a specific purple one. Purple had always been your favorite color, and you had your fair share of purple dresses, but this… this was something else. 

It was a Fongt African Evening Maxi Dress, allowing you to move comfortably while showing off your natural shape.

There was a peephole in the chest area that was not very provocative. According to Bethany Ann, “You gotta keep it classy but still appealing.” 

The sleeves had a slit from neckline to wrist with one strip of cloth allowing it to still move with your arms just above the bend of your elbow. 

The cuffs were lined with satin and pearls, which you learned were real when they matched with beautiful dangle earrings with a flower resembling the bracelet that Seokjin gave you. 

Your shoes were made of white satin and wrapped around genuine pearl ankle straps. The heels were high enough to be a heel but still comfortable to walk in, but what they did was elongate your leg when you stepped forward, and the slit in the skirt of the dress opened to just above the knee. 

Your makeup was done with a dramatic black winged liner, purple eyeshadow to match the dress, and white accents to pull more pearl and satin into your look. Your lips were kept natural with a simple satin-speckled gloss.

Your nails were painted an almost hombre look, going from white tips to deep purple and an almost matching satin-speckled topcoat. 

Finally, your hair was curled, re-curled, and pinned within an inch of your life, but it looked amazing. It flowed like a river in soft waves down one side of your head. Somehow, they gave you volume and fake bangs, which you could never do on your own. 

“All done,” announces Bethany Ann.

Ring Ring

“Hello?” you answer your phone.

“Y/n, it’s Namjoon. Jen should be there with the car shortly. Are you almost ready to go? Did MayNell do well?”

“Yes, they were amazing. I haven’t had this much fun getting ready for a Gala in my life,” you say, smiling at the team. Movement behind them catches your attention as you see Jen approach.

“Oh, Jen is here now. I have to go, Namjoon. I will see you soon.”

“Really quick hand the phone to one of the team, please, before you go,” instructs Namjoon.

“Bethany Ann, he wants to talk to one of you,” you say, holding out the phone. A series of Yes, Prime Alphas, that won’t be a problem, understood, and humms come from her while you wave hello to Jen. 

The conversation isn’t long and ends with Bethany mumbling something about it being in the trunk before she hangs up and hands you back the phone. 

“It looks like we will be seeing you again, as we will be on stand-by at the Gala for last-minute touch-ups and maintenance throughout the night,” she says with a smile. The other two clapped excitedly as they piled up the used makeup so they would know what to use for later tonight.

“Miss Y/l/n, we should get going soon. Prime Alpha Kim is already on location,” Jen informs you.

Nodding, you make your way to follow Jen, waving goodbye to the team. Once outside, you see that it’s the same black car that was used for your date with Seokjin. Carefully making it down the stairs to the car, you hear a cat call coming from behind you. 

Spinning around, you see Yoongi still whistling at you, and Jimin and Jungkook join in with hoots and hollers.

“Who is that sexy beast?” Jimin calls out, causing you to blush.

Jungkook is snapping probably a trillion pictures while he yells, “Work with me, pose, and pose. Now Vogue!”

“Have a lovely night, Princess,” Yoongi calls out while holding onto the back of his younger mates to keep them from running after you like he wants to.

The drive is calming, Jen, having put on 104.3 MyFm. The pop songs allow you to just live in them for now. 

You thought you would be more nervous about tonight than you really are, but Bethany Ann, Cindy, and Kat made you feel comfortable, and the boys made you feel wanted. 

Even if they were a bit dorky about it. 

With that, your mind wanders to the rest of the boys. They all knew that you were nervous about tonight. It wasn’t just the Gala with the dancing, tons of famous people, and the media that was making you nervous– it was Namjoon.

Sure, you went on a non-date date with Seokjin, which felt more like an actual date than any you had ever been on, but that was with Jin. Someone closer to your age, not the Prime Alpha of a sizeable mate-bonded pack, and someone not powerful enough to make or break your career. 

Prime Alpha Kim Namjoon was. 

Looking out the car window, you see you are on a beautiful winding road, not the busy streets you expected.

“Jen, where are we?”

“We are almost there, Miss. Prime Alpha Kim is waiting for you just ahead,” she responds with a smile.

Turning around a final bend, you see the unmistakable dome of the Griffith Observatory. When you first got to California, you used to come here all the time. You can see a few spattering groups of people, but it was fall and getting colder earlier, so there weren’t many. 

After Jen parked the car, she got out and opened your door. Guiding you around the side of the building, you see a few men in suits blocking a path for visitors, but allow the two of you in. 

“He is right down this path, Miss,” Jen instructs. “The car will be waiting and ready to head to the Gala when you are finished.”

“Thank you, Jen,” you say as you walk down the path around the left of the main building.  

Once you come around the last of the curve, you see a stunning view of Los Angeles. The sun is starting to set, which is casting a red and orange tint on the skyscrapers. You can see the lights from homes and offices turn on, making it look like the sky has blessed the ground with stars, but that isn’t what falters your steps.

Right now, you see him. 

Namjoon. 

He was observing the same setting sun with his back to you. He looked like a king looking over his kingdom, and his power and presence exuded from his very being. 

100% Alpha.

His suit isn’t the one from this morning—no, no. It’s solid white from top to bottom, and against the bleeding colors of the sun, it makes him look stunning. His broad shoulders and solid back look like they could carry the world. The suit jacket accentuates his waist. The pants—wow, the strain of the material emphasizes the musculature beneath them.

Absent-mindedly, you have continued to walk forward with timid steps, and the slight breeze from behind you carries your scent to the Prime Alpha before he hears you. 

With a quick turn, he faces you with a smile that turns to awe and shock as he takes you in. He knew you were beautiful before, but now, “You look like an angel.”

You shy at his words as you join him, “You are the one in all white, Namjoon. You look more like an angel.”

Upon hearing your words, a faint blush dusts his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he genuinely smiles at you, dimples and all, “I could never be an angel, but you sure could be mine.”

“Thank you,” you accept his compliment with your own responding blush. 

Looking past him to gather your thoughts, you smile again at the view, “It’s so pretty up here. Isn’t it? I used to come here all the time.”

“I know,” he comments, causing you to look at him with a furrowed brow. “I may have asked your Beta, where your favorite spot in the city was. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Looking into me, I see,” you tease. “I don’t mind. I think it’s sweet that you were interested in knowing and wanting to surprise me. Brownie points for caring.”

Your last comment now draws a look of confusion from him: “Has no one ever brought you here before?”

Walking up to the railing, you debate how much you want him to know before the Gala. This would be the best time to discuss things with him before he goes from Namjoon to RM.

“I... I don’t have much experience in this, Namjoon,” you start. “Everything I tell you tonight, you should tell Bangtan.”

Without waiting for his agreement, you continue, “After moving to California when I was 11, I pretty much became an only child with a controlling but distant mother. I learned what it meant to be a family or a pack from Evie’s family.”

Namjoon joins you at the railing. His body turned to face you, his attention on nothing else. Glancing at the intensity of his focus, you pause and focus back on the slowly darling sky.

“I learned in high school that touching, hugging, cuddling was equal to whoring since I wasn’t a hybrid. So when a boy or girl would become comfortable with any of it, I took it as if they wanted to be with me.”

“How wrong I was,” you sigh out. Namjoon, having moved closer to you while slowly pushing his calming leather scent into the air.

“I dated a few times. According to my mother, I slutted my way through the short time I was in college till I ended up meeting Eric. I thought he was going to be my forever.”

It takes everything within Namjoon to keep his Alpha at bay while you talk about being with someone else. You are their mate and no one else’s. How dare someone lie to you about you being theirs.

At your silence, Namjoon tentatively takes a step forward and places a hand on your shoulder, “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, Y/n.”

“I know, but with you being the Prime Alpha of the pack, there are things you should know.” 

Taking a deep breath and leaning into Namjoon’s touch, you feel your nerves settle down a little bit more. 

“Eric was fantastic at first. He even helped my mother when she was ill and bought her a condo when we decided to move in together. Mom was thrilled that I was not only with someone from a societal class, but he wasn’t a hybrid. He was so kind, respectful, attentive, but that changed. At first, I thought it was me. I didn’t make dinner on time. I was being flirty with the waiter. I dressed improperly for the occasion.”

“It started with underhanded comments and backward compliments. It wasn’t long before it turned into leaving bruises from harsh grips to busted lips from getting slapped and the occasional twisted ankle from him pushing me out of his way.”

“I was with him for almost ten years because I thought he loved me. Why would anyone who didn’t love me buy me gifts and sleep with me if they didn’t love me? Right?”

You wipe the tears that start falling, only to have Namjoon hand you a handkerchief, “oh thank you.”

“I am sure you saw in the medical portion of the contract that I had a miscarriage, right?” you question, turning to face him.

Not trusting his words, Namjoon only nods in confirmation. His Alpha is eerily quiet now, waiting for your following words.

“I had found out that I was pregnant. Seven weeks along. I was so happy because it would explain why I constantly felt exhausted and nauseous. I just knew that this news of a baby would make Eric elated and then we could get married and he would treat me better because I was carrying his baby.”

By this point, your lip is trembling, your breath is stuttering, and your skin is hot from the turmoil of emotions, but you knew Namjoon had to know, not only because of the contract but because of his pack. He needed to know that you had so much more baggage than what the contract said. 

They all needed to know that you were broken and worthless.

“So I made his favorite dinner, wore his favorite pink dress, and waited for him to return home from work. I waited… and waited… and waited but ended up falling asleep at the dining room table before he got home.”

“He finally came home late that night, almost 2 am, and yelled at me for wasting food. He was slightly buzzed and had gone out with the boys. I of course apologized but told him that I had something special to share.”

“So I told him,” looking down at my nails, my throat so tight it is almost impossible to speak, I try to continue, “He wasn’t happy. He punched me for the first time that night. Right in the stomach. Then he grabbed my purse, took me by my hair to the stairwell, and pushed me down it.”

“The whole time, he was screaming at me about how ugly I was, how fat I was, how worthless and pathetic I was. He threw me my purse and told me to get rid of the devil’s pawn that I was carrying.”

“I ran and ran. I don’t remember calling Evie. I don’t know how she found me and got me to the hospital. But she did. I ended up with two fractured ribs, an ankle sprain, and a miscarriage.”

Next thing you know, Namjoon is pulling you into a hug. His large form engulfs you in leather and vanilla scents, a soft growl rumbling in his chest, and he just holds you like you will fall apart if he lets go. 

“It broke me,” you mumble into his chest. “I moved into my flat, brought Derek into the pack, and took time healing.”

Pushing slightly on his waist, Namjoon slowly releases his hold. Looking at you, you can see his eyes hold pain and anger for what you have gone through, but there is something else. It isn’t pity. It almost looks like awe.

“Namjoon, I haven’t been with anyone since,” you say, hoping he understands what you mean. 

Rubbing his hands up and down your arms, you see the thought process: “That is… he caused… skinship. This is why you are hesitant about skinship outside your family pack. The one person you allowed to be close to you with skinship destroyed the meaning and true purpose behind it.”

“Angel. Y/n. I don’t mean to be rude, but he is an asshole. He is worse than but, but,” growl. “I don’t want to rant. Thank you for telling me all of this. I can see why you have reacted to the pack as you have so far.”

Namjoon takes a moment to look at the now-set sun and the night skyline before continuing.

“First off, Angel, you are not broken; you are beautiful. Bangtan is so lucky to have such a strong and fierce woman to be with. Secondly, there is nothing wrong with not being with anyone else after going through what you have been through and we are not going to force you to do anything that you are not comfortable with.”

“But the contract said..” you start, but Namjoon cuts you off.

“I know what the contract says, and we are sticking to it. You don’t have to be the world’s best at skinship. Skinship takes time, trust, comfort, and connections. Omegas are naturally prone to want skinship, Betas see it as a way to regulate the pack but Alphas do it out of desire and want.”

“Yoongi-hyung wants to be your safe space, Jungkook-ah desires to be your happy place, and the rest of us are right there with them. We weren’t lying when we told you that you are special to us, but we just need you to see if we are special to you as well. In time.”

Taking in a deep breath, you shudder as you look him in the eyes. “Derek told me to heal and see where this all goes before he left the meeting yesterday. I know now that he was talking about more than just my wrist.”

“And are you okay with that?”

“I…I think I am.” Your statement draws a stunning smile from the wolf hybrid, “but. But… it’s still going to take time. I mean just today Jungkook and Taehyung barely kissed and I felt like I was watching a private moment.”

“It was a private moment but it was a private moment they wanted to share with you, Angel,” says Namjoon. “In front of the cameras, Bangtan pack is very playful, like on Run BTS, or stoic, like at Awards. However, behind closed doors… Bangtan is very affectionate. Sometimes, the younger ones can get a bit lustful and I have to shove them behind closed doors because it’s too much for even me.”

You giggle at the thought of locking the trio in a closet or “Have you ever tried a bucket of ice water?”

That pulls a hearty, honest laugh out of the Prime Alpha, “That would be very funny, but no, we haven’t. Jinnie-hyung would hate getting the packhouse wet like that.”

Taking your hands with seriousness on his face, Namjoon says, “Y/n, I will let the rest of the guys know what you told me. I will do my best to ensure that none of them hunt down this Eric person.”

“But I want you to be ready for them to comfort you, to want to hold you, to show you what skinship is supposed to mean. Also, be aware that if we don’t want you involved in our private moments, as you call them, we wouldn’t do them while you are there.”

You smile softly, and something inside you vibrates with almost excitement about being able to feel all of these things again, even though it still scares you a bit. “Well, you don’t have to worry about Eric. Evie and Derek, even before he was a pack member, had been collecting documentation and evidence of Eric’s abuse, and now he is in jail. He isn’t getting out because there were others before me.”

Stepping away from him, you glance at the sparkling city below. “Even though this chapter of my life started with a minor disaster, I think it will be a journey worth taking.”

“And you have seven men to take it with you, even step of the way,” Namjoon says, stepping up behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders, observing the sights below.

You learned more about Namjoon's family pack, his underground rapping start in the music world, and some funny stories about their first few years as BTS before they became famous.

By the time you had to leave for the Gala, any and all nerves about being around Namjoon had vanished. He was super intelligent, caring, and thoughtful. 

You just felt calm around him.

He offered you his arm as you walked back to the car, which you were grateful for since it had turned chilly with the night sky. 

“Angel, I have something for you,” Namjoon says as he points to a purple and white bag one of the guards at the trail entrance holds. 

He reaches inside and pulls out a lovely satin and lace bundle. Shaking it out, you see that it is a cloak!

You reach out to take it from him only to get it pulled away, and Namjoon wraps it around your back with a flourish.

“I had this made for you after I heard how well your date with Jin-hyung went. I wanted you to join me tonight, and I knew what I would be wearing, so I wanted us to match.”

He continues talking as he ties the cloak in place, “It’s made of thicker satin around the shoulders because I heard you get cold quickly, and the lace is made in the design of our Smeraldo flower which symbolizes love and hope.”

Wrapping yourself tighter in the folds of the cape, you can’t help but feel like the material is hugging you back. “It's lovely, Namjoon. Thank you so much.”

“It also has a hood, but I don’t want to ruin your hair.”

After driving to a preparation area, you meet with Bethany Ann, Cindy, and Kat. All three rush to fix your make-up and playfully scold Namjoon for making you cry. 

When you try to explain that you were the reason for crying, they still playfully scold Namjoon for allowing you to discuss matters that made you cry. 

They also do a bit of makeup on Namjoon, transforming him from handsome to devastating. Yeah, you won't survive them all in makeup and suits. 

Nope.

After adding a purple pocket square, amethyst cufflinks, and button covers (you didn’t know that was a thing) to Namjoon's look to match you more, Bethany Ann deems you ready for the Red Carpet.

You are escorted to a different car with extremely heavily tinted windows. Jen is still your driver but is now in an all-black pantsuit with purple and white satin accents. 

You guess it is a BTS image thing to be all matchy-matchy.

The drive to the Gala is relatively short but still long enough for your nerves to try to kick in. 

Namjoon is holding your hand while scrolling on his phone, “Well, it looks like the news broke about you being our new playmate.”

You reactively squeeze his hand tighter.

“It seems like many are supportive of it because we are on tour, and they hope you can comfort us,” he smiles down at you with moon eyes. “Army already loves you and after tonight so will everyone else.”

The car stops, and you can see the flashing lights through the tinted windows. Both of you take a few deep breaths.

 “Ready?” he asks. With your nod, he knocks on the window, and Jen opens the door. 

The next eternity is spent getting blinded by flashing lights and being asked an excessive number of questions that you can barely hear. Namjoon, thankfully, noticed your anxiety. Bending to whisper in your ear, “Don’t worry about answering these questions, just ignore them.”

Well, you thought before that you were getting blinded and bombarded… now it was 100 times more than that just because of the whispering.

Finally, you go to areas where panels and cameras are set up. You notice a few Hollywood Stars, like Dakota Johnson from 50 Shades of Grey, Lil Nas X, who stopped to say hello to Namjoon, and even Kate Capshaw with Steven Speilberg.

You had lived in Los Angeles long enough to conduct yourself properly around the Hollywood Stars and not embarrass yourself or the name of BTS.

Soon, it was time for the interviews. Thankfully, most of the questions were geared toward Namjoon. The random few that were asked of you could be answered simply. Some interviewers made you laugh, while others were more serious, and Namjoon would step in and take over if they got too pushy or personal.

You were concentrating on the cameras and the questions so much that you missed how Namjoon’s attention was on you any time you spoke up. His pride in your strength to not waver or fumble your words was amazing. 

You were perfect. 

You were his angel.

The eternity you felt in the Red Carpet turned out to only be about 45 minutes.

“Well, that went smoother than what I thought. It’s not so bad and kinda easy now that I look back on it,” you comment once inside the Gala.

However, the groan and the headbutt on your shoulder contradicted your feelings, “Namjoon? Are you okay?”

Holding on to your shoulders with his nose at the nape of your neck, Namjoon breathes in your sweet pea scent laced with god knows how many emotions. His Alpha is back to clawing his way forward, wanting to get your scent to stabilize.

“Namjoon?”

“Hello, is everything okay?” A woman’s voice asks. Looking up, you see it is none other than Jennie from BlackPink.

“안녕하세요, Jennie-ssi. Umm.. I think everything is okay but umm,” you look over your shoulder as best as possible, only to be met with a deep growl. “Okay, maybe everything is not okay.”

“Your Y/n, right? The new Playmate for Bangtan pack?” 

“Yes, I am. My word travels fast,” you smile and attempt to bow in greeting again to be growled at by the Prime Alpha at your neck. 

“Miss Y/n, I don’t know if you know this, but I am a Siamese Hybrid and your Alpha is not happy with your unsettled scent… I think,” she states with a look of concern.

“Oh! Well, I don’t have a good handle on my scent. Umm.. Do you know if they have hybrid rooms for situations like this?”

“Yes! They do… umm, hold on,” she says as she walks over to another man, and they talk in rapid Korean. 

Soon, they both return to where you are, but now Namjoon has decided to band his arm around your waist, keeping you closer than before.

“Hello, I am Lee Jung Jae, human, but I know where the rooms are. Please come with us. We already told Jennie-ah’s manager to let Namjoon-ah manager know where you two are going,” the man says.

Following them down the hall and around a corner, you see a few rooms labeled “Hybrid only.” 

“Oh, 감사합니다 선생님! Thank you for all your help,” you smile, hoping they will excuse you for not bowing.

Jennie holds the door open for you, “I haven’t seen him act like this since Jungkook-ah joined the pack. It’s a good thing, you don’t have anything to worry about. Just take 5-10 minutes to relax and everything will be fine.”

Nodding in understanding, you shuffle the two of you into the dimly lit room. There is a desk with a chair and a small couch. Couch it is. 

“Alpha? Alpha, can we sit down, please?” you ask, moving toward the couch. 

You feel Namjoon move his head, hoping he is looking around the room. When he still doesn’t verbally respond, you try another tactic. 

“Alpha, my feet are hurting. Can we please sit together on the couch?”

That works.

Before you finish the sentence, Namjoon pulls you to the couch. Taking a seat, he grabs at your hips and sits you down on his lap. His arms curl around you, and his eyes, now a lovely forest green, observe your expressions.

“Hello, Alpha Joon. Are you going to be alright?” you ask while casting your eyes downward. You remembered something about eye contact and wolves not being an intelligent thing to do.

“Your scent is everywhere,” Alpha Joon replies, which shocks you since it's not the stilted speech you have heard from Alpha Yoon and Alpha Chim.

“Oh, well, yes. I suppose it is because this is a new experience for me,” you smile as you remember the reassuring touches from Namjoon during the whole thing. “Alpha was very helpful in keeping me safe and not panicking. Thank you for your attention Alpha Joon.”

The compliment pulls a smile from the wolf hybrid, “It’s my job as Prime Alpha. Need to calm your scent. Sweet pea. Angel’s sweet pea.”

Adjusting how you sit on his lap, Alpha Joon gips on tighter, but you smile and move a little bit more, allowing you to lean against the arm of the couch while still leaning on his chest.

“I should be fine soon, Alpha Joon. I actually enjoyed walking the carpet with you.”

“Too many were watching you. Lots of people were flirting with you and with what you shared earlier… I guess my Alpha was just in protection mode or something,” he grumbles, resting his head on yours.

“Oh, you are silly, Alpha. They are just doing their jobs. You saved me when it got uncomfortable, but everything is fine now. We just get to enjoy dancing and stuff now.”

The room is silent when you feel a large puff of air on your head, “Sorry about that, Angel. My Alpha has been trying to front since the observatory. I guess your mixture of emotions was too much,” the wolf hybrid says.

You tilt your head to see his eyes return to their darker brown color, “No worries, Namjoon. I am just glad that Jennie-ssi and Jung Jae-ssi were around to help find this room,” you smile at him, still looking between his eyes. “Your Alpha’s eyes are pretty, by the way.”

“Thank you. The green is a rare color but the pack says it makes sense because it takes a rare breed to be a Prime Alpha.”

“I would agree with them. Your Alpha also has better speech than the others so far.”

“Ah yes, that is also part of why I am the Prime Alpha. It allows for me to be understood in order to protect my pack.”

“Make sense. Now, do you think you are ready to head back out? I am sure Manager Sejin is worried by now.”

“I am, if you are or we could just go home… if you wanted to?”

“I would like to stay. I haven’t been to a Gala with a dance floor in a while and it looks like fun.”

Now that you didn’t have a leeched on Alpha, walking inside the venue was like walking into a fairytale. Beautiful works of art were tastefully displayed everywhere you looked. 

Those attending looked like they walked off the catwalk from New York or Milan’s fashion week. Quietly, you thank whatever powers that be granted you the talented team to make you look like you might be able to fit in with this elegant crowd. 

Before taking a seat, you were able to spot Jennie and Jung Jae, give them a quick thumbs up, and say thank you again for all their help. 

The evening's events started with Michal Govan and Eva Chow’s speeches about LACMA and why we were all here. They were followed by tributes to Amy Sherald, Kehinde Wiley, and even Steven Speilberg. A short film by someone you had never heard of but now were interested in was shown. 

Next came the dinner. 

Shit dinner! 

How would you avoid being rude and eat the food without knowing what was in it? Gourmet meals at these high-flaunting Shindigz never look like what they are made of.

As if sensing your internal panic, Namjoon squeezes his hand over yours. You glance up at him, your concern showing in your eyes, but before you can say anything, he leans over and says, “Are you worried about the meal?”

Nodding you, lick your lips, trying to figure out how to explain to Namjoon how you could… could… maybe hide in that room again til dinner was over?

Watching your tongue wet your lip, Namjoon smiles at the nervous habit you share with a particular mate. “It’s okay, angel. The seats are assigned, and they know your restrictions.”

Instant relief comes from his words. You should have known. They have told you many times that they will take care of you. He has told you that he will take care of you. 

Maybe it’s time to start believing them.

Smiling brightly at the Prime Alpha, you turn over your hand and lock your fingers with his. You hope this conveys gratitude for the precautions and attentiveness during such a grand event. 

Namjoon's eyes widen at your movement, now focused on your intertwined hands. His mate is holding his hand, not out of need but because his new mate wants to. 

At that point, a strong wave of vanilla comes over the Prime Alpha, the mate bond. It’s forming between the two of you. He can feel the pull now. He didn’t destroy the bond before it got a chance to start with his proposition. 

He may be known as the God of Destruction; however, when it comes to his mates and you, he will never allow any breaks.

The rest of the program was relatively interesting but boring. There were performances and more tributes, but once that was over… the party was on!

A famous DJ took over for the small, formal orchestra-like band that had been playing in the background. He played music from all around the world. 

Namjoon danced with you as best he could. That man almost had two left feet, which caused you to laugh never-endingly.

“How?!? Namjoon! How can you be so bad at dancing?”

“I can dance! I have only stepped on you twice and that was because you were doing some kinda fancy thing that I hadn’t seen,” he huffed but still danced along with you until you abruptly stopped in your tracks.

“Hey, you almost got stepped on agai…” Namjoon stops talking and takes in your wide eyes and blushing(?) face. 

You aren’t looking at him; you are looking past him. Turning around to see what you are looking at, he sees nothing but other guests. Looking back at you again, he notes that you are watching something or someone moving. Trying to track what you see, it hits him… Lee Min Ho. You are watching Lee Min Ho.

Stepping behind you, placing his hands on your hips, Namjoon leans into your ear, “Should I be jealous that your eyes are on another man? Not only that but Tae-ah’s good friend Lee Min Ho?”

You snap your attention back to Namjoon, “Friends? You know Mr. Lee? Wait… jealous?”

Chuckling to himself, Namjoon looks back at the famous Korean Actor and whistles, catching his attention. A smile blooms on Min Ho’s face at seeing Namjoon, and heads towards the two of you.

“Namjooooonnn! Why did you do that?” you harshing whisper through your own toothy smile. 

Whispering in your ear again, “I thought you would want to say hi to someone you clearly know of.”

“Min Ho-hyung! I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight. It’s good to see you. How is the pack search going?” Namjoon greets the stunning actor with a hearty handshake-guy hug thing. 

You move out of the way, and your brain is awed to see him up close. You can handle Hollywood stars because they are everywhere, but foreign stars… that is a whole different thing because they don’t come here often. 

You accidentally watched him film a little for his show The Inheritors back in 2012 or something. That is when you first noticed him, but since most of his stuff was on streaming channels you had to pay for, you didn’t watch many things until recently.

Namjoon noticed your movements but continued to speak with his friend to let you relax or fangirl out. 

“Joon-ah, may I ask who this lovely creature is?” Min Ho asks, turning his attention to you.

With a prideful smile, Namjoon introduces you, “This angel, is Y/n. She has graced me as my date for the Gala tonight.”

Attempting your best to maintain professionalism, you smile and respectfully bow, “만나서 반갑습니다, 선생님.”

“Oh, you speak Korean?” Min Ho says with a shock, “Joon-ah you did find a gem for tonight. Tell me, Y/n, how does it feel to dance the night away with this clumsy wolf?”

“Yah! I am not that bad,” exclaims Namjoon.

You giggle out, “It’s not bad. He keeps shying away from the classic dances with too much footwork but then again I think my feet are grateful for that.”

“I am not shying away from classical dances. I just don’t know much about ballroom forms. Besides, the band is there to give the DJ and guests breaks from dancing like we are now. That’s all,” Namjoon defends himself. 

“Guest breaks? And here I thought I was the oldest one,” you tease.

“You ballroom dance, Y/n?” asks Min Ho. 

Looking at the actor, you can’t tell if he is asking because he doesn’t think someone of your size can ballroom dance, or he is honestly curious.

“Yes, Mr. Lee. I have been trained in multiple ballroom dance techniques, but I prefer to compete in either a classic Waltz, Salsa, or Tango. " Your face sets into a defensive mask. “I wouldn’t expect anyone to guess that. Besides, it's not like those dances are very popular anymore.”

A look you are not sure of what it means flows over his face. “Joon-ah, you know it is rude to deny a lady her request to dance. Since you won’t be joining her, I will,” he says, stepping closer to you. He bows.

“Miss Y/n, I would very much like to have this dance with you,” he asks.

You stand there shocked, your mind trying to grapple with the fact that A)Lee Min Ho just asked you to dance, B)Namjoon is right there, and C) LEE MIN HO just asked you to DANCE!

Before you can accept or deny the request, the band starts up with a piece you recognize as Underground Tango by Goran Bregovic. The actor takes your hand, pulling you to the center of the floor.

“Mr. Lee. Mr. Lee, I..” you try to say before he pulls you into the classic Tango hold.

Bending down to your ear, he says, “Namjoon is a little slow when it comes to taking what he wants. Dance with me but watch him. Let’s see how long it takes before your Alpha fronts.”

You glance at Namjoon and see that he is, of course, watching you. You're his date, so why wouldn’t he? 

“Shall we?” Min Ho asks before he takes the first step into the dance. 

Your eyes automatically return to Min Ho’s, and your body falls into the dance like it was meant to be there. 

The Tango is an intimate dance with constant body contact and wordless communication between the dancers. It requires concentration to perform well, and at this highly publicized Gala, you don’t want to look like a fool. 

It was surprisingly easy to follow Min Ho’s lead. He kept his hands in proper and respectful placements, showed respect with his movements, and played up the sensuality of it all with his facial expressions. 

You maintained proper eye contact with Min Ho and followed the energy of the dance by adding flourishes to your movements and the flicks of your dress. Pretty soon, it felt like old times: just you and your dance partner on the floor, with the music acting as your lifeblood. 

In one turn, Min Ho brought you back into his hold but placed your back in his front, which, in the proper hold, pressed the two of you together. That’s when you hear a soft chuckle.

Glancing up at Min Ho, he tilts his head toward the audience, causing you to follow his gaze. You would have frozen in place if it hadn’t been for the years of training and Min Ho’s stronghold on your body.

No longer was Namjoon standing and watching you dance with his friend – It was Alpha Joon.

The forest green eyes are watching you like a predator watches his prey. Flicking all over your body, they sear heat into your skin as they trace all your contact points with the actor. 

“If I could wager anything, I would think your Alpha doesn’t like you being touched by me right now. Possessive much?” Min Ho says quietly.  “Let’s finish this with a show.”

Min Ho spins you around without warning and takes you into a dip. As he dips deeper, you cling to the actor, afraid to be dropped. Trailing his nose along your neck to your shoulder. His hand is securing your lifted leg through the slit at his hip. 

As the music dies, he pulls you up and stands you nose to nose. Your heart is pounding, not because Lee Min Ho looks like he will kiss you. No no. It’s because Lee Min Ho looks like he is going to kiss you, and Alpha Joon is somewhere seeing the same thing. 

A coy smile plays on his lips as he glances behind you, “I have a feeling you may be going home early, but still, enjoy the rest of your night, Y/n.”

Next thing you know, strong hands grip your waist, and a low growl rumbles through you. Your breath is stolen, and your body is not only thrumming from the dance but now from the Alpha at your back. 

Min Ho steps back, looking Namjoon in the eyes. He says, “Hello, Alpha Joon. Thank you for granting me the opportunity to dance with your date; she was divine.”

“Mine,” a deep, gravelly voice comes from the wolf Hybrid. 

“Is she?” asks Min Ho, his eyes flashing yellowish. “My Alpha thinks she is unmarked.”

“Your Alpha? You’re a hybrid?” You are shocked to hear this as you really take in the man before you, but you do not see any hybrid features.

“Alpha Bobcat hybrid. You didn’t think I was this graceful by being just any human, did you? Couldn’t you feel my athletic but lithe build while we were dancing so closely?” 

Min Ho’s eyes wander up and down your form. A look of something passes over his face when Namjoon’s grip tightens, and the growl grows louder. Putting his hands up, Min Ho steps back farther.

“Alpha Joon, I don’t want to push or pry. I only meant to allow your date a moment of fun. I will respect your claim on her… for now,” the actor says, his face turning into a mask of friendliness that does not meet his eyes.

Without looking at you, he says, “ Y/n, please tell Tae-ah he needs to give me a call. It was an honor to dance with you this evening.”

With that, he turns and disappears into the crowd. However, you want to disappear into the crowd but cannot because you have a Prime Alpha at your back with a death grip.

Glancing around, you are at least relieved to see that it is mainly hybrids watching with worried looks on their faces, but no one has responded or reacted like anything is out of the ordinary. 

This may be something normal for Alphas.

Running through all the things you could do next to get away from the dance floor, you think more about the fact that you didn’t know Min Ho was a hybrid and Namjoon is unhappy.

Instinctively, you should be scared, and you are… right? 

Or are you excited? 

It’s just adrenaline. That’s what it is; you attempt to convince yourself until you shift your weight and feel the so very telling dampness between your legs. 

Why?

Why are you, now of all times, turned on?

It isn’t from the dancing; you would have noticed that with all the movements. Here you go again, getting turned on by a mated man: his possessiveness, his Alphaness, the body-consuming growls. 

“Sweet pea, bergamot, and sugar,” Alpha Joon says as he takes a deep breath. “Min Ho left none. Good. Mine.”

“Alpha Joon, umm, should you be fronting right now at the Gala?” you ask softly.

“Fine, many hybrids are here,” he responds, rubbing his wrists along your sides and sending out calming scents to you. “Bergamot means scared. Nothing to scare from, my Angel.”

“Can we talk about this somewhere else, please?” you ask. Stepping out of his hold and quickly facing him. “Scenting in public won’t look good for your pack, Prime Alpha.”

His forest green eyes narrow at you. The look is calculating. Dropping his hands to his sides, the Alpha hybrid steps forward and cautiously asks, “Scenting is accepted, but not here?”

You smile at his tone and respond, “Yes, Alpha Joon. You may scent me, but please remember I am still getting used to this.” 

Reaching for his hand, you step into his personal space, “Alpha Joon, can we head home now? You can scent me in the car, if you’d like.”

His green eyes shine like emeralds, “I’d be honored, let’s go home.”

Previous / Next

Perminate Taglist - OPEN

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[solar-wing]

⚣ Duke To The Rescue 💈

⚣💈A/N → Usually, I write my reader characters as general as possible in all manors of looks and traits so as many people as possible can relate (whether male or g/n). But, I wanted to give some special attention since I rarely see any content like this being an African-American writer and reader myself. Hope you all like it! Plus, this is triggering some dark memories of when I used to get my hair cut so enjoy my pain lol.

⚣💈 Summary → You're the newly adopted Wayne kid after your parents are caught in the crossfire of one of Batman's battles. Bruce, trying to prove himself a better father, attempts to do your hair but since he knows nothing about African-American haircare, you're in for a painful ride. Your poor hairline...

⚣💈 Words → 2.0k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please!💛

⚣ ENJOY 💈

“Okay, so how do I do this?” Your dear old dad asks.

“I don’t know! I’m just a kid! Aren’t you supposed to be the parent and know these things?” You asked with your hands waving around animatedly as you sat on a stool chair taken from the dining room into one of the many bathrooms.

Bruce gave you his signature frown while looking at the assortment of combs and hair products on the sink.

After your parents had gotten caught in the crossfire between Batman and one of his notable nemeses, the billionaire decided to take you in, making you an official Wayne kid.

For a 7-year-old, you were very knowledgeable. Something your new legal guardian immediately noticed after adopting you, and because of your age, you were now officially the youngest kid Bruce had taken in. 

You were also the only other African-American kid Bruce decided to take in outside of Duke. And that didn’t even really technically count since Duke was already a teenager by the time Bruce officially adopted him.

So, your adopted father was at a loss for words while staring in the mirror at your hair while you played games on his phone. Your hair had grown to a considerable length, and you’d been asking your adoptive father for a while now to help you get this new style that was becoming more popular called ‘twists.’ Well, new to you since you hadn’t seen it before.

‘I thought that was a dance move.’ Bruce thought to himself.

When you showed him the video you saw, the Dark Knight persona immediately decided he was taking you to a professional barber who knew more about your hair texture and maintenance to give you what you needed.

At least until Jason ran his big mouth.

“Wow, old man. Can’t even take care of your own kid’s hair. Shameful.”

He was really just patronizing the older man, always enjoying the moments when he got a reaction from him now and then. But, he’d begun to regret that decision when he along with your other siblings saw Bruce carrying an armful of hair products and tools to the upstairs bathroom while holding your hand in his other hand leading you upstairs.

It was quite comical seeing the frightened look you threw at your second oldest brother as he along with your other siblings watched Bruce’s towering frame lead your tinier one up the grand staircase with you looking like you were heading for your doom.

In hindsight, you might have been, and Jason could only smile sheepishly at you as Bruce led you toward the bathroom.

Now, they all stood outside the bathroom watching their shared father struggle as he read over the ingredients from the different hair products.

“How bad do you think this is gonna go?” Steph asked.

“Oh, I’m betting on a full shit show within the first 10 minutes,” Dick said while munching on some popcorn.

“10? You’re too graceful dickhead. I’m betting 3 and half minutes tops.” Jason threw out while reaching to grab some popcorn before having his hand slapped by the acrobat. “Hey!” He yelled in offense before getting into a sorta-ish fight with Dick, trying to tug the bag of popcorn from him.

“Cut it out, you two! You act like wild children throwing tantrums.” Damian snapped at the two vigilantes.

“Says the actual child who throws ninja stars and daggers during a tantrum when daddy grounds him from patrol,” The Red Hood persona remarked, stuffing his mouth with a handful of buttery popcorn after nabbing the bag from his older brother who was now mean-muggin' the shit of him.

Damian growled at Jason, rolling up his sleeves before Steph grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him back to his place. The second Robin laughed while taunting the young assassin, throwing kernels at his face.

While that was going on, you sat and watched Bruce read label after label on the various hair-care product bottles.

“Uh, Bruce, are you sure we can’t just go to a barber?” You asked, a fearful tone evident in your voice which did not do well for Bruce’s confidence. Even as a 7-year-old, you could tell when a situation was about to go left without the side comments from your adoptive siblings.

“No, no, Y/N! I got this. What kind of father would I be if I didn’t take care of my own child’s hair.” Bruce said while reading the red bottle. He was holding his phone in the other hand, reading a review online under his breath, “...mixed with a high amount of sulfates to help cleanse build-up of oils and other products in the hair.”

“You realize Jason was joking, right? Right?! Jason, tell him you were joking!” You frantically shouted, turning in your seat towards the vigilante who held a sheepish smile while his mouth was full of popcorn.

“I was joking.” He tried to say, words muffled by his chewing.

“Y/N, calm down. If Bruce can handle taking down crazy madmen and women at night as Batman, how hard could it be to do a simple hairstyle?” Tim spoke trying to reassure you.

And it almost worked…until you felt Bruce try to brush your hair with what you were sure was Stephanie’s hair brush.

“Is that my hairbrush?” Steph asked.

“It says I’m supposed to pick his hair out before washing? Is brushing not the same as picking?” Bruce asked, looking at his kids with the most confused face.

“I’ll pray for you at your funeral, Y/N.”

The desperate and confused face on Bruce's face was actually so adorable that if you weren’t terrified for your scalp (and life) at that moment, you would’ve hugged him just to help him feel better.

Cass had walked into the bathroom before grabbing a larger comb off the counter and switching it with the hairbrush in Bruce’s hands before returning the purple hair tool to its rightful owner.

“Thanks, Cass,” Steph said.

‘You’re welcome.’ She signed back.

“Alright, here we go,” Bruce uttered before grabbing your shoulder and placing the comb at the base of your scalp, pulling back to ‘pick’ through your hair.

“Ow, OW, OOOWWWWWW!” You shouted in pain while holding on to the counter for dear life, feeling like your face would tear in half.

“Bruce, you’re going to rip his head off!” Dick yelled, coming to your rescue, “You gotta comb from the sides.”

He pulled the comb to the side of your hair causing your head to yank in that direction.

“OW!”

“Whoops, okay, maybe that was wrong,” Dick said, smiling in apology at you.

“Alright, you idiots, get out of the way. Looks like another issue I have to take care of for you.” Jason stated, placing the popcorn down before cracking his knuckles which really did not help ease the nerves and fear you were feeling in your stomach. He pulled up his sleeves and licked the butter off his fingers, which, gross by the way, “You gotta pull with some strength.”

“OOOWWW!” You yelled, glaring hard at your older brother who once again just smiled sheepishly at you.

“You guys are hopeless,” Tim sighed, grabbing the comb only to make it worse by tangling more into your hair.

“TIM!” You screamed.

“Maybe I’m hopeless too.” He said, a confused expression taking over his face as he tried to figure out how to solve this.

“Okay, simpletons. Move over.” Damian said.

Your eyes went wide at that.

“UH UH, back away gremlin!” You grabbed the nearest thing that could be considered a weapon which turned out to be another hairbrush. Not even caring, you decided you would make it work. 

Damian was not allowed anywhere near your hair.

“What the- I’m older than you!”

“So?!”

“Fair point, brother.”

Stephanie tried to help but only managed to get the comb fully lost in your hair. You could feel yourself getting dizzy and a headache coming on as your head had been yanked back and forth in different directions. 

As your family was busy yelling back and forth at each other while playing tug-of-war with your scalp, none of them even noticed when Duke came up the stairs, confused by all the chaos.

“What’s going on?” The Signal persona asked Cassandra.

‘They’re trying to do Y/N’s hair,” She signed.

Duke’s eyes went wide as he heard your cries of pain before rushing into the bathroom.

The tears forming in your eyes were clear as day as your tiny hands gripped the counter with everything you had, feeling like if you’d let go at any moment, you’d be yanked out of the chair and swung back and forth like a yo-yo. Duke also saw Damian creeping through the mess to grab at the tangled comb in your hair, giving it a yank causing another cry of pain from you making him smirk in cruel enjoyment.

“Hey!” Duke screamed at the top of his lungs, effectively shutting everyone up and turning their attention toward him. “Everyone out!” He pointed his thumb behind him. They all quickly shuffled out of the bathroom, mumbling to themselves while Bruce remained behind, looking quite beside himself.

Duke picked up the bottle the older man was holding in his hand before turning it over, seeing the ingredients and what he had pulled up on his phone.

“Really, Bruce? Sulfate?” Duke said.

The billionaire only groaned before his forehead fell into this palm, “I should’ve just taken him to a barber.” He grumbled,

Duke looked towards you, seeing how tense you were and the fresh tears in your eyes from the amount of pain your scalp was in.

“Don’t worry, little bud, I got ya.”

~~~

A few hours later, everyone was waiting in the kitchen while Alfred served refreshments before hearing your happy feet skipping down the hallway, Duke right on your trail. Your hair was done, washed and conditioned, and twisted right into the style you wanted.

“Ta-da!” You yelled upon entering the kitchen, opening your arms as if you were giving a grand finale. A mix of delightful reactions and cheers filled the room from your family members, everyone smiling at how excited you looked. Even JDamian, despite how small it was.

“Wow! Look at you, Y/N,” Dick said, biting into an apple.

“Hold still! I’ve got to get pictures for my feed.” Steph said while coming to take some pics of you.

“You look quite charming if I do say so myself, Master Y/N,” Alfred said, before handing you a cookie.

“Thanks, Alfred!” You said, happily munching on the treat, before climbing into one of the stools without any assistance. Okay, you had a little help from Jason to make sure you didn’t slip, but since he didn’t mention it, neither would you.

Bruce walked up to Duke, who was still standing by the entrance to the kitchen leaning against the wall.

“Thank you, Duke.” He said, patting his shoulder, which was weird for Bruce, but he was learning how to show more affection to his kids now that he had you so everyone was slowly getting used to it. 

They were also weirded out by it too.

“No problem. Just glad I got here when I did. By the way, why didn’t you just take him to a barber?” He asked.

Bruce looked reluctant to say, so the brown-skinned boy didn’t push it, “Don’t worry. I won’t ask. But, if you want me to teach you how to take care of it, just ask. I learned from watching my parents do my hair growing up. Then, when I kind of had to start taking care of myself in the foster system, I picked up some different tricks here and there.” He explained, answering Bruce’s questions before he could even ask.

“Thank you,” The older man said before their heads turned at the sound of you screaming.

They saw Damian next to you with another smirk as you rubbed the back of your still tender head with an irritated grimace at the youngest Robin.

“Damian!” Bruce shouted.

“What? That’s what he gets for calling me a gremlin.” Damian said before he felt a harsh tug on his own hair, looking back to see you with your own mischievous smile.

“Ow!”

“Now, we’re even, gremlin.”

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[ask-the-boxing-family]

MEET THE FAMILY!

Mackenzie “Mac” Reyes

17 yrs old

Italian-American

The Bronx, New York

“The ex-champion of Branch A in the WVBA, and the youngest champion to date of the boxing league, came back from retirement after the events of Punch-Out!! 2009 and is now living a double life as a boxer and an engineering student. In the ring, Mac is a force to be reckoned with: he uses his small stature to his advantage with an evasive style of boxing and a high amount of stamina, countering all that comes his way. And of course, he still knows how to use the Star Punch learnt from his coach. He comes across as fierce and stoic, not allowing anyone to get under his skin and putting everything he has into a match. However, outside of the boxing gig, Mac is a kind of rowdy yet sweet boy. Though he might still be trying to appear tough, he’s undoubtedly quite the dork. Unfortunately, Mac does have a problem with his temperament: he’s easily wound up, and is more prone to getting annoyed or irritated than most. Though, he tries to keep his temper in check. He is best friends/has a brotherly relationship with Birdie and has a father-son relationship with Doc. Go ahead and ask the boy wonder himself all your burning questions!”

Pietro “Birdie” Rodriguez

19 yrs old

Italian-Hispanic

Staten Island, New York

“The current champion of Branch B’s Special Circuit. He earned the nickname ‘Birdie’ thanks to his bright blonde hair. The only son of the legendary Peter Perfect, one of Branch B’s past champions, he took the challenge of conquering Branch B to honor his father after his passing. After becoming the champion, he decided to shed the name Peter Punch and took on the role of Canary Carnage, his current boxing persona which he feels a more lively connection to. Birdie is a laid-back guy who goes with the flow of life, not easily bothered or angered. And though he is impulsive and fairly dim-witted, he has a good heart and always wants to do what’s right for himself and the people around him. Him and Mac are practically attached at the hip and love spending whatever time they can together, both being the only individuals that can really bring out a playful side of each other. If ya got questions for him, go ahead and ask!”

Oswald “Sandman” Evans

31 yrs old

Philidelphian

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

“Having regained his World Circuit title after losing it to Mac, and a short break from boxing, he’s back in the game and better than ever. Sandman is straightforward and honest, never afraid to speak his mind on whatever needs speaking on. He’s also rather stern and puts his foot down when he feels it necessary, but otherwise is rational and kind of witty at times. And though he can be downright terrifying in the ring with a fairly villainous persona, it’s really just for the crowd. He’s the eldest brotherly figure to both Mac and Birdie, keeping them in check whenever he’s around, which isn’t often thanks to his champion status. Unfortunately, Sandman does have the habit of not being too humble. Seemingly being a natural prodigy at most activities he does, he may be a bit of a sore loser when faced with loss. But, don’t worry, he’s not unreasonable. It should also be noted that Sandman does suffer from an incurable respiratory disease known as Dreamdust Syndrome that he’s consistently medicated for. Worry not, it’s not fatal, but it is liable to act up at any time. If you ever wanted to ask Sandman anything about his boxing or personal life, now’s your chance.”

Jerome “Doc” Louis

58 yrs old

African-American

???

“The coach and fatherly figure of the boys, and close friend of Mr. Sandman. Doc is an old-fashioned fellow, still having a lot of boxing paraphernalia from back in his hay day. He’s a nurturing and witty older man, quite street smart and brimming with advice just waiting to be shared. Though Doc is a fairly busy bee when it comes to working for the WVBA, he tries to make time for his boys to spend time with them and check on how they’re doing. Though a kind fatherly figure, he makes sure to keep them in line and get stern when he needs to, but he doesn’t do too well with scolding. Doc does also have a couple of health problems that come with time, namely low blood sugar, which is precisely why Doc always has so many chocolate bars on him. If ya got anythin’ for this ol’ Doc, go ahead and ask away!”

RULES:

- No NSFW whatsoever. C’mon y’all, let’s keep it clean.

- Certain asks may take time depending on what they are so please be patient! Thanks!

With that outta the way, the ask blog is OPEN!

[stagesofbalding]

My Natural Hair Growth Journey

Let’s Embrace our Natural Self!

Before I start, I would like to get this clear. I don’t have a problem with weaves, wigs, ponytails, etc. I say this, at the front door because when I decided to announce that I am trying to go natural; I got looks like I was a traitor. As of today, I wear my natural hair under my wigs because I am transitioning my hair from relaxers, tight hairstyles that pulled on my edges and bad hair gel that essentially dried out my hair. This is the reason for my natural hair growth journey.

My natural hair growth journey beginning

It was December 2015, and I was just about to finish college when I began cruising YouTube at home. I was bored and curious as to what was going on, then I came across some You-tubers sharing their experiences about maintaining their natural hair.

They talked about the products they tried and liked and the ones they didn’t like. I was hooked!  I spent hours watching, learning and writing down tips and products. You would have thought I was back in college. I was back on my grind.

It is funny how life can bring you into a full circle

A few years ago, 3 of my older cousins, who all live in different states, were visiting for a family reunion. I noticed that they had cut their hair down to a low Afro. At that time I was still relaxing my hair, wearing wigs and sometimes ponytails.

But I was curious. Was this a new revolution that I was ignorant about? Of course, I knew that the 60s brought back rocking the Afros, then in the 80s and early 90s the braids, especially the “Goddess braids” or for some of us the “Janet Jackson box braids”. Now the 2000″s “s brought back the natural hair look.

The crazy thing about it was that I found myself defending weaves, wigs, and ponytails. One of my cousins asked me why I wouldn’t just go natural. I heard comments like “You guys are just making the wig stores richer by trying to look like Caucasian women with that long flowing hair”. What? Yes, I was being attacked at the family picnic.

I said, “First, I am not trying to be like anyone but myself. Secondly, I love the way I look with long hair”.  I told my cousin that I have a big apple-shaped head, therefore, I couldn’t rock the short hairstyles. They don’t fit my face. The truth about it was that I was envious of my cousins’  abilities to wear their hair that short and still look good. They have the faces and heads for that style.

More young girls are going natural

>>> Female Pattern Hair Loss Success Stories <<<

As I look around these days, I see all lengths of Afros, twist outs and braids. While doing my research, I realized this may not be just a trend or phase, this could be the beginning of our sisters learning to love and accept their natural hair.

My history growing up was if your hair was long and silky-like, you had “good hair”. Being black, I grew up believing that because it was one of the descriptions people would use to describe someone with silky or wavy hair.

Now that I am in my forties, which means I grew up in the 70s and 80s, this was still going strong from my heritage, which started this nonsense. I can’t lie, I still find myself saying, “She or he has good hair”. I am not only transitioning my hair, but I’m also transitioning my mind about African-American hair. Furthermore, I have work to do, for real!

Our black culture is unique in many ways

Our hair is like no other on this planet. Going way back to our West African ancestors, we have always shown our artistic abilities when it came to our hair because it is so different. Our hair grows in a coiled curl pattern, coarser in texture, which makes our hair more delicate to manipulate than other races. Here in America, black people also have mixtures of different types of hair because we have Native American blood and other nationalities that are traced in our lineage. >>> 1 Year Hair Growth Journey: Embracing Your Natural Self <<<

Let me know about your hair journey. Just leave me a comment down below.

[in-pleasant-company]

Claudie's Travel Accessories

Tin for Madam C.J. Walker's Wonderful Hair Grower, 1910s-1920s, Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture

Madam C.J. Walker was one of many Black female self-made millionaires, though she is often described as the first. Another woman who shares the contested title of first Black female self-made millionaire was Annie Malone, who accused Walker of stealing her formula for a hair growth product in the early 1900s.

Before the manufacturing of commercial products, African Americans were forced to rely on ingredients which were inferior substitutions for the palm oil and herbal ingredients that had been used by their ancestors in Africa. These ingredients, which included axle grease, lye, butter, and kerosene caused hair and skin damage, and often led to hair loss.

Regardless of who first invented the formula, the impact that these hair products had on the lives of Black women was massive. Not only did the products improve the health of their hair, but the companies provided thousands of jobs as saleswomen and beauticians, and Walker had a program which taught financial literacy.

Additionally, both Malone and Walker used their millions to support charitable institutions which served African Americans.

By the time Claudie's story is set, Madam C.J. Walker had died, and her daughter A'Lelia was managing the business. If you're interested in another American Girl book with a brief appearance by A'Lelia Walker, I recommend Mystery of the Dark Tower by Evelyn Coleman.

(Please note that I am aware that Madam C.J. Walker was a name she adopted later in life and her birth name was Sarah Breedlove. For clarity's sake, I have chosen to refer to her by this later name.)

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[afrotumble]

Black History

Annie Turnbo Malone was one of America’s first Black millionaires. She started Poro Co., which made hair and beauty products for the Black community. She hired the young Sarah Breedlove as one of her door-to-door sales agents. You probably know Breedlove better as Madam C.J. Walker, who invented a line of African American hair products after suffering from a scalp ailment that resulted in her own hair loss.

[futureseaempress]

It’s Beas nice ask day!

So my question for you: What is your craziest “truth is stranger than fiction” moment you have experienced in real life

oh me oh my i have like a billion moments like these...

i gotta say its tied between (okay going under the cut cause im a clown who must dance)

So on a dark and stormy night, my stoner roommate and I were trying to trace back why our dryer just wasn't getting clothes dry quickly. Only problem: our electrical is under our house in a crawl space and our house is situated on an UNEVEN hill. So you have to be mighty tiny to crawl into the right places.

Good news: I am small.

Bad news: I am horribly claustrophobic and cannot enter this spot without my brain SCREAMING that the house will collapse on me.

So we go under the house anyway calling up to our other roomies (beauties who are watching reality tv on the couch and laughing at us) to help us echo locate where we oughta be.

Bubba bumps his back on SOMETHING but we don't pay it any mind, he's okay and we can't get where we need to anyway. I give up and go shower to get the red clay and cobwebs off and he goes to idk smoke weed. BUT oh no

the water

it's no longer running

...

oh shit

what did we accidentally do???

i hop back into my clothes and my beat up nikes to go explore. We're turning knobs and levers we've never even seen before while our roomie calls to us updates from topside.

we're pacing the property

at a complete loss

then

just as we're about to go to a hotel for the night and call someone to get us water for the next day

i hit my head on SOMETHING under the house

i hear a loud WHOOOOOOOOOOOOSH

and my beautiful roommate shouting "WATER'S BACK"

same beautiful roommate

about two years prior

im heeming and hawing about how my only family in our city is a gay hair stylist who primarily works in the african american women's beauty industry... i've only met him twice, but he was really kind to me and im hoping that as the only gays we might bond. but it's also weird bc he robbed my grandma and pawned all my moms gold jewelry from the half a year they lived in Saudi Arabia. and also the only thing we have in common is growing up in a very small town in a different state and now living in a big city.

and im describing my neil patrick harris look alike of an uncle

and my roommate this look on her face

and she asks "have you ever seen chris rock's documentary Good Hair?" and i say "no of course i have not."

and she says "well i know you love Ice T i thought maybe" and i say "while i love him my knowledge is VERY lacking" and she takes a knee and swears to me that "as a black woman [she] must educate [me, her] white compatriot"

and the whole lead up in this documentary is all the contestants for this hair competition saying their biggest fear

and

every

single

one

man, woman, new to the game, old hat

are afraid of one man

.... Jason.

AND WHO IS JASON?? IF NOT MY GAY AS THE DAY IS LONG WHITE TWINK UNCLE. WHO WHEN I FIRST MET MY GRANDMOTHER FAILED TO MENTION HAD ANY RELATION TO US AND UPON THE SECOND MEETING (at said grandmothers funeral) MY MOM ASKED HO WI COULD POSSIBLY KNOW HIM. HE ONCE STOLE THE FAMILY GOLD FROM SAUDI ARABIA AND COULD HAVE BEEN ROBBED OF THIS ENTIRE EXPERIENCE AS HE WAS IN AN AIRPORT HEADING TO NEW YORK BUT HIS FLIGHT GOT DELAYED ON 9-11 AND HE USED TO HAVE A WIFE AND HAS A SON BY HER AND HE'S THE MOST INTERESTING MAN I HAVE EVER MET.

anyway these are my stories

DUN DUN

[reasoningdaily]

AMERICAN ASSOCIATION OF PHYSICAL ANTHROPOLOGISTS MEETING:

European Skin Turned Pale Only Recently, Gene Suggests Ann Gibbons

PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA–At the American Association of Physical Anthropologists meeting, held here from 28 to 31 March, a new report on the evolution of a gene for skin color suggested that Europeans acquired pale skin quite recently, perhaps only 6000 to 12,000 years ago.

Science 20 April 2007: Vol. 316. no. 5823, p. 364 DOI: 10.1126/science.316.5823.364a

http://www.sciencemag.org/cgi/content/short/316/5823/364a Comments on the recent genetic studies:

This research conducted by Europeans descendants seeking the roots of their origin supports the view that the first pale-skin European was born 6,000 years ago. In 2005, researchers linked the paleness of the modern European skin to a mutation in gene SLC 24A5. Its implication is immense if fully comprehended. The “whites” or Caucasians are not native to Europe as noted by Sokal. Haak et al (2006)

1.5 million years ago when human beings first began to evolve in Africa, they had Black skin. 100,000 years ago when anatomically modern humans evolved in Africa, they gave rise to the Black man and woman.

They lived in Africa as Black people, some of these people left Africa, 50,000 years ago as Black people, entered Europe as Black people, and they settled and lived in Europe as Black people until 6,000 years ago when the mutation that gave rise to the pale-skin arose.

Rogers posits that all people having descendants today had exactly the receptor protein of today’s Africans; their skin was black, and the intense sun killed off the progeny with any whiter skin that resulted from mutational variation in the receptor protein (Rogers 2004:107).

Nina Jablonski claims that dark skin evolved pari passu with the loss of body hair and was the original state for the genus Homo.

Furthermore, it is generally accepted as argued by Rogers that the descendants of any people who migrate North from Africa will mutate to become white over time because the evolutionary constraint that keeps Africans’ skin black generation after generation decreases generally the further North a people migrates (Rogers 2004).

However the surprise is that this mutation only occurred after more than 45,000 years in which only Black-skinned African people lived in Europe as its original human aboriginals. It cannot be over-emphasized that it was only in the last 6,000 years that the pale-skin (aka whiteman) first appeared.

The mutation gene must have spread gradually (as often occurs with new mutation) from that time but it surely would have taken another two or three thousand years down the line before it would become the dominant European profile. That makes it just three thousand years ago.

It was only three thousand years ago that whiteman became the dominant type in an African-owned Europe! Before that it was Black-skinned African. For more than 48,000 years Black-skinned Africans would have been the only Europeans!!! Europe was discovered and mapped by Black skin Africans. Europe of yesterday, today and tomorrow will ever remain Africa’s heritage. Osteological Evidence:

In 2006, Brace a leading authority in anthropology conducted osteological analysis on several skeletal remains dating from neolithic Europe.

According to Brace:

“Many human craniofacial dimensions are largely of neutral adaptive significance, and an analysis of their variation can serve as an indication of the extent to which any given population is genetically related to or differs from any other.

When 24 craniofacial measurements of a series of human populations are used to generate neighbor-joining dendrograms, it is no surprise that all modern European groups, ranging all of the way from Scandinavia to eastern Europe and throughout the Mediterranean to the Middle East, show that they are closely related to each other.

The surprise is that the Neolithic peoples of Europe and their Bronze Age successors are not closely related to the modern inhabitants, although the prehistoric/modern ties are somewhat more apparent in southern Europe.

It is a further surprise that the Epipalaeolithic Natufian of Israel from whom the Neolithic realm was assumed to arise has a clear link to Sub-Saharan Africa.

……………………..

The data treated here support the idea that the Neolithic (i.e. Natufians with a clear link to Sub-Saharan Africa) moved out of the Near East into the circum-Mediterranean areas and Europe by a process of demic diffusion but that subsequently the in situ residents of those areas, derived from the Late Pleistocene inhabitants, absorbed both the agricultural life way and the people who had brought it.

C. Loring Brace: The questionable contribution of the Neolithic and the Bronze Age to European craniofacial form; PNAS | January 3, 2006 | vol. 103 | no. 1 | 242-247

There are no ancient skeletons of the Caucasian type. The findings of Brace et al make it clear that there were no whites in ancient Europe. There were only Black Africans living there until the coming of the Europeans as noted by DuBois, Diop and Boule & Vallois.

Again another piece of incontrovertible scientific evidence that the Paleolithic Europeans were Blacks. The skeletal remains of these people as noted by Boule and Vallois recalled the tropical African type.

“So striking” writes Professor Elliot Smith, “is the family likeness between the early Neolithic peoples of the British Isles and the Mediterranean and the bulk of the population, both ancient and modern, of Egypt and East Africa, that the description of the bones of an Early Briton of that remote epoch might apply in all essential details to an inhabitant of Somaliland. (The Ancient Egyptians, p. 58.)

Geneticist Peter Underhill refines the facts: About 80 percent of Europeans arose from primitive hunters who arrived about 35,000 years ago, endured the long ice age and then expanded rapidly to dominate the continent, a new study shows.

Researchers analyzing the Y chromosome taken from 1,007 men from 25 different locations in Europe found a pattern that suggests four out of five of the men shared a common male ancestor about 40,000 years ago.

The basic pattern had some changes that apparently developed among people who once shared a common ancestor and then were isolated for many generations.

This scenario supports other studies about the Paleolithic European groups.

Those studies suggest that a primitive, stone-age human came to Europe, probably from Central Asia and the Middle East, in two waves of migration beginning about 35,000 years ago.

Their numbers were small and they lived by hunting animals and gathering plant food. They used crudely sharpened stones and fire.

“About 24,000 years ago, the last ice age began, with mountain-sized glaciers moving across most of Europe.

The Paleolithic Europeans retreated before the ice, finding refuge for hundreds of generations in three areas: what is now Spain, the Balkans and the Ukraine.

“When the glaciers melted, about 16,000 years ago, the Paleolithic tribes resettled the rest of Europe. Y chromosome mutations occurred among people in each of the ice age refuges.

About 8,000 years ago a more advanced people, the Neolithic, migrated to Europe from the Middle East, bringing with them a new Y chromosome pattern and a new way of life – agriculture. About 20 percent of Europeans now have the Y chromosome pattern from this migration [African Y chromosome E3b and SouthWest Asian J].

Ogu Eji Ofo Annu July 11, 2007

[myninaross]

What are Exosomes and How Do They Work?

Exosomes, tiny vesicles released by cells, have been gaining attention in the field of regenerative medicine. These small packages contain a variety of growth factors, proteins, and genetic material that play a crucial role in cell-to-cell communication. But how exactly do they work?

When it comes to hair loss treatment, exosomes have shown great promise. These microscopic messengers can stimulate the hair follicles and promote hair growth by delivering important signals to target cells.

Once exosomes are injected into the scalp, they interact with the resident cells and release their cargo. This cargo includes growth factors that help nourish existing hair follicles while also activating dormant ones. Additionally, exosomes encourage blood flow to the scalp area, further enhancing nutrient delivery to the hair roots.

Exosomes before and after results are amazing. The regenerative power of exosome treatment lies not only in stimulating new hair growth but also in reducing inflammation around the follicles. By modulating immune responses and promoting tissue repair processes, exosomes create an optimal environment for healthy hair regeneration.

Unlike other invasive procedures or medications with unwanted side effects, exosome therapy is minimally invasive and offers a natural alternative for those seeking sustainable solutions for their thinning or receding hair. 

These remarkable little vesicles hold immense potential as a breakthrough treatment option for addressing various types of alopecia or pattern baldness. With ongoing research into their therapeutic applications expanding rapidly, it's an exciting time for individuals looking to restore fullness and confidence to their locks through this innovative approach – all thanks to the power of exosomes! 

Read the full article at: https://ninaross.co/blogs/hair-loss/exosomes-before-and-after-all-you-need-to-know

[littleghoulghost]

Introducing a new character: Old Man Leroux.

Old Man Leroux was an elderly gentleman of African descent living in Louisiana. He'd lost his beloved wife of 63 years, they'd been married since they were 18. They married one month after her birthday.

Old Man Leroux was a very intelligent and well-spoken man despite his thick cajun accent. He was known to sit on his porch most days reading classic American literature in his late wife's old rocking chair, his ebony cane leaned against the siding of his house just within reach.

Children and young adults were known to stop by to visit, whether that was for peppermints or a light chat and interesting stories. He never admitted it, but everyone knew his favorite was the tiny slip of a girl with scraped knees and tattered clothes. When her mother let her hair go too long without care he painstakingly brushed and trimmed just as his wife had taught him. When her stomach growled with hunger he invited her in for a home cooked meal, filled with seafood, vegetables, and bright red spice. When the girl came up with bruises he sat her down with packs of frozen vegetables, his deceptively strong hands breaking apart the icy contents to comfortably press it to her injuries.

When the fire broke out he prayed for his best girl to have escaped. He sobbed with grief when she never showed again. He was the one that told the police of her existence. After the arrest of her mother he took responsibility of planning the funeral. He gave her the best he could, a lovely casket, delicate floral arrangements that included baby's breath and forget-me-nots. When the funeral concluded and her casket was lowered he hosted a party. The whole street attended, they ate and drank and made merry while a brass band played over the radio. Even if they didn't speak to the tiny slip of a girl, they all felt her loss. They all knew they'd never see the girl again, sitting upon Old Man Leroux's porch steps as he rocked and sang and read to her.

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Erica's Basic Info

Name: Erica Paige Mills

Erica's faceclaims for the 90s and now were a lot easier for me to figure out than ones for the 60s and 80s, for obvious reasons, but I do have them, all the same. For the 60s, we have the lovely Pam Grier (the picture is from her 1975 movie Friday Foster) and, while she didn't act in anything big in the 60s, she would have been in the right age range. For the 80s, we have Lark Voorhies (Saved by the Bell). My immediate pick for the 90s was Trina McGee (Boy Meets World) as her overall style and acting, especially in BMW felt very much like Erica. Finally, for present day, we have Andrea Chaparro (Rebelde) - I saw her picture on Pinterest and it just instantly clicked.

Nicknames: Big Dip-Shit (her friends’ term of endearment connected to the freckles on her arm), Frog (she was the highest jumper on the volleyball team) and Dumbass (mostly by Jade, but, like with Jade, their friends call her that as well)

Age: 18

Date of Birth: August 10

Zodiac: Leo

Birthstone: Peridot

Nationality: American and Puerto-Rican

Sexuality: Lesbian

Birthplace: West Side, Manchester, NH

Current Residence: Winnisquam, Tilton, NH

Occupation: Leader of the robotics club, setter of the high school volleyball team, songwriter and guitarist for Blissful Chaos, babysitter of her younger siblings, and cashier at Spencer’s Gifts

Talents/Skills: Gives pretty awesome haircuts, video editing, can memorize practically anything just by seeing it once, and somehow is able to get people to trust them with their secrets, even if they only just met - something she considers both a gift and a curse.

Birth order: Oldest

Siblings: Cora Jane (15) and Elijah Michael (12)

Parents: Michael Douglas Cooper and Sofia Adriana Garcia

Signature:

Height: 5’6”

Race: African-American

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Naturally black, but dyed blue

Glasses or contact lenses: She doesn’t need them, but thinks she’d look cool with glasses. She will wear some pretty crazy-looking contacts for fun events, though

Distinguishing features: Dragon tattoo between her shoulder blades, dagger with vines tattoo on her right arm, and a set of seven freckles on her left bicep that Jade connects with Sharpies to look like the Big Dipper

Mannerisms: Clacking her nails together to the tune of songs, humming theme songs to her favorite shows, and drawing doodles while talking on the phone.

Health: She is allergic to pineapple and is lactose intolerant, but still eats pineapples on pizza and mac-and-cheese like her life depends on it. (Yes, her old one was a typo lol)

Hobbies: Chugging energy drinks, drawing, buying too many vinyls from the record shop, thrifting, and volleyball

Greatest flaw (in their opinion): How expressive she is. She doesn’t always notice it right off the bat, but her expressions give away her thoughts on everything. Even if she’s not entirely vocal on her opinions, you can practically tell what she’s thinking as her face displays it all in high definition. Many times, her friends will have to either elbow her or remind her to “watch her face” to get her to fix it.

Best quality (in their opinion): Her quick thinking. As a setter on the volleyball team, she has to be quick on her feet, have a good grasp of the situation they find themselves in, and be ready to make calls on the fly; Erica thrives in that sort of environment. Whether it’s for volleyball, work, songwriting, or a DND campaign, she loves coming up with plans contributing ideas as it makes her feel a lot smarter than she feels she is.

Biggest fear: Failure of any kind. Oftentimes, she feels as though she has the weight of the world on her shoulders despite that being far from the truth. As the oldest of her siblings, she strives to be the best sister and role model she can for them. As the setter on her team, she allows losses to hit her harder than they do anyone else. As the manager at Spencer’s, she deals with the brunt of every Karen encounter and fights through days of faulty machinery while making sure her coworkers don’t feel guilty for anything going wrong. As the band’s songwriter and guitarist, she feels as though the fault would be hers if the band were to fail in any way or if a song wasn’t a hit. Although she goes through everything with a smile and shrugs off failure like it’s no big deal, on the inside, she’s screaming.

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Favorite ice cream: Pistachio

Favorite color: Green

Favorite number: 6, how many months it took for her and Jade to get together

Favorite songs: Memories by Conan Gray, Perfume by Lovejoy, and Boyfriend by Dove Cameron

A place they want to visit: Amsterdam, Netherlands

[novadodson]

"so come home" said ground control.

Is that NOVA DODSON? A SOPHOMORE originally from PORTSMOUTH, NEW HAMPSHIRE, they decided to come to Ogden College to study ENGINEERING & MATHEMATICS on an ACADEMIC SCHOLARSHIP. They’re THE SUPERNOVA on campus, but even they could get blamed for Greer’s disappearance.

‘‘ｓｏ ｃｏｍｅ ｈｏｍｅ’’ said the voice from the stars.

STATISTICS;

BASIC INFORMATION;

full name: noelle nova valerie dodson. nickname(s): n/a. age: twenty-two. date of birth: febuary 8th, 2001. zodiac: aquarius. hometown: portsmouth, new hampshire. current location: ogden, new hampshire. ethnicity: african-american & caucasian. nationality: american. gender: non-binary. pronouns: they/he. orientation: panromantic & pansexual. religion: agnostic. occupation: student & employee at rainbow road. language(s) spoken: english, chinese, spanish, tagalog, vietnamese.

FAMILY;

father: andrew ellis. september 14, 1973. mother: rose dodson. february 14th, 1978. sibling(s): n/a. children: n/a. pet(s): n/a.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE;

face claim: quintessa 'q' swindell. hair color: dark brown.  eye color: dark brown. height: 5'6''. weight: 121 lbs. tattoos: multiple, scattered. ● behind left ear. (1, position) (2, artwork) ● left shoulder. (1, position) (2, artwork) ● right shoulder. (1, artwork) ● left arm. (1) ● hands. (1, artwork) (2, artwork) ● left ribs. (1) (2) (3) ● right thigh. (1, artwork) ● left thigh. (1, artwork) ● undecided position. (1, artwork) piercings: left nostril, lobes on either side (multiple), septum.

PERSONALITY;

character trope: the supernova. additional tropes: the astrophile, the cataclysmic, the connard, the dirtbag, the insurgent, the interstellar, the lothario, the lovable rogue, the miscreant, the phoenix, the rebellious spirit, the sabaist, the trickster, the vainglorious. character inspirations: bex mack (andi mack), brianna hanson (grace and frankie), captain james west (wild wild west), colin shea (what's your number?), lila pitts (the umbrella academy), lorelai gilmore (gilmore girls), martin whitly (prodigal son), max black (2 broke girls), nadia vulvokov (russian doll), robyn brooks (high fidelity), rue bennett (euphoria), shane madej (yes, just shane madej). positive traits: creative, optimistic, egalitarian. negative traits: rebellious, restless, unyielding. skills: adaptability, perseverance, speed reading. smokes: yes. drinks: yes. drugs: yes.

SCHOOLING;

attending; ogden college. major: engineering & mathematics. sports: n/a. extracurriculars: robotics club, math club.

BACKGROUND;

TW: death, parental loss, homelessness, murder, juvenile detention, prison. ● Nova was raised by a single mother, Rose Dodson, their father never in the picture as he had abandoned her the moment he found out she was pregnant. ● It became clear at a very young age that Nova was advanced and at only four, he took a Mensa test and was admitted as one of the groups youngest members with a score of 142. ● By age eight, Nova seemed entirely sure of who they were; they spoke to their mother about their identity and their future and Rose was nothing short of supportive, embracing her child and supporting them the way they always had. ● Unexpectedly, Nova's mother fell sick and passed away by the time he was twelve and they were placed with relatives. However, due to not knowing how to handle him, Nova was bounced around and eventually, ended up drifting between relatives homes, couch-surfing with friends or simply sleeping on the streets. ● At fifteen, after getting involved with the wrong people, a robbery Nova was a part of went wrong and he was charged with felony murder. They had never had a weapon or touched anyone, but due to their involvement with the original crime, they were charged as an adult and sentenced to seven and a half years in prison. ● Nova graduated high school on their own while in juvenile detention and even helped tutor and push other kids to do the same but once he reached eighteen and was transferred to an actual prison, something shifted within them and they gave up on themselves. ● A mentor from Mensa who had known Nova since he was a child refused to give up on him, visiting monthly and attempting to encourage him to continue fighting for the future he'd planned and when Nova was finally released, they used their connection as an alumni of Ogden to get Nova a spot despite their background. ● A sparks seems to have lightened back within Nova; he's brighter than he has been in the past four years, attending classes and excelling as they had been as a child but even they're not entirely sure what they want for their future or if their dream is any longer worth pursuing.

BIOGRAPHY;

TW: death, parental loss, homelessness, murder, juvenile detention, prison. Under Construction.....

EXPAND ON HOW THEY EMBODY THEIR SKELETON TROPE;

While most of the life of a star is stable, as it burns through its fuel and begins to cool, the outward forces of pressure drop until it's low enough for gravity to take over and cause it's collapse — a supernova. It's chaotic, bright, powerful, beautiful. It's also essential to life, a source of elements including the very iron in your blood and in their wake, can leave either a black hole or a new star. Balance was taken from Nova a decade ago, forcing them to drop further and further downwards, a decline they had long since lost control of until gravity or fate intervened. What was becoming a shell of the luminary Nova had once been was thrown into chaos; a new world, a new environment and perhaps, a new start. Chaotic, bright, powerful, beautiful. It was essential to his survival, his life. The only question that remains, what will be left in their wake?

RELATIONSHIP TO GREER;

Nova's relationships to Greer seems to exist more on a hypothetical than any reality. Their arrival was meant to be a new and exciting change, a return to the life they were meant to have, one that ended up all but cloaked by the darkness of Greer's missing status. It seemed to be everyone's focus and to some degree, Nova was thankful for it, his arrival able to slip mostly under the radar. After all, who held interest in your story when the school's golden girl had up and vanished?

LINKS;

AESTHETIC | FASHION | INTERACTIONS | MUSINGS | PINTEREST | VISUALS

[lucids]

5 Notable Black Inventors

1. Madam CJ. Walker Born in 1867 and died in 1919. After suffering hair loss of her own from a scalp disorder she began working on the development of hair care products for African Americans.

2. Elijah McCoy Born in 1843 and died in 1929. This noted African American inventor was issued more than 57 patents for his inventions during his lifetime. His best known invention was a cup that fed lubricating oil to machine bearings through a small bore tube. Machinists and engineers who wanted genuine McCoy lubricators used the expression “the real McCoy.”

3. Garrett A. Morgan Born in 1887 and died in 1963. He developed both the first traffic signal invention and the first patented gas mask.

4. Granville T. Woods Born in 1856 and died in 1910. Granville is known to many as “The Black Edison,” because both were great inventors who came from disadvantaged childhoods. But unlike Edison, Woods was considered fortunate to receive an education to help him on the road to his inventions. He invented the telegraphony. The telegraphony combined features of both the telephone and telegraph and was purchased by Alexander Graham Bell’s company. He later fought with Thomas Edison over patents for the telegraph.

5. Jan Ernst Matzeliger Born in 1852 died in 1889. Jan invented a shoemaking machine that increased shoemaking speed by 900%! This allowed for lower prices for consumers and more jobs for workers. Matzeliger left behind a legacy of tackling what was thought to be an impossible task – making shoes affordable for the masses.