#also i’m not allowed to dye my hair at this job. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teras-art · 8 months ago

Text

Sometimes when I’m having some creative block, or know I want to draw but don’t know what to draw, I look through my old stuff to see what I can redo.

This is a drawing I did back in 2008 when I was in high school. Nicolette is a character of mine that I have been working on since 2006, she’s been through a lot of revamps and a lot of dye jobs, and I remember this being a very ambitious drawing for me at the time. I still don’t love doing full backgrounds and avoided them even then. I also wanted this to be a two-parter, with the second part being her boyfriend listening to music in a room where it’s daylight, but I honestly never even started that second part.

So, how about a little critique for past me? It will set up my game plan for the new drawing and hopefully help some of you reading this that draw.

Perspective has always fucked with me and something I will say about this drawing is that everything does appear to be going to the same vanishing point, so good job, teenage me. Unfortunately, the scale is absolutely wack and as soon as Nicolette stands up, she’ll hit her head on the ceiling. Anymore, I like building 3D references (I use DAZStudio, but there’s a lot of options) and just trace them to help with perspective. If you think that’s cheating, take it up with the old masters.

I also feel like there is no character to the desk and chair. They’re just so clean and look kind of cheap. The desk chair looks more like a dining chair. There’s basically nothing on the desk, it’s like she just moved in today and hasn’t had a chance to fully unpack. I think at the time, putting more objects on the desk and figuring out the perspective for all of them felt just too daunting to bother with. I definitely want a ton of clutter on the redo (famous last words).

At the time, I had it in my head that I wasn’t allowed to outline anything if I was going to go for a more painterly style, so a lot of it looks pretty blobby and undefined. If you’re going for a painterly style rather than line art, you are allowed to use lines, just be mindful of the weight and the color of the lines. Thick, black lines, are obviously not what we’re going for. In the new drawing, her face and fingers in particular should be much more defined.

Hair used to really, really throw me for a loop. I think part of my problem was looking at all the hair as one thing, and it ends up feeling sort of like hair for Lego people that just snaps on. It makes a lot more sense to break it down into different clumps and strands. Think about things like how and where the strands attach to the scalp. Another nitpick is just that her hair would obviously be obstructing the sound coming from her headphones.

I believe she is wearing black flats (at least, I don’t think they were supposed to be black ankle socks) and I want to get rid of those. Who wears shoes when they’re hanging out in their room at night?

As though admitting that I was in high school in 2008 did not age me enough, the computer is running Windows XP with the most generic looking music player possible. I think I’m going to make the computer in the new drawing a little more obscured, screen-wise, in the hopes of not aging so badly and obviously.

The window and the lighting from it isn’t so bad. I definitely was mindful of the lighting on the curtains and the rug, but didn’t really bring it in toward the figure or any of the other furniture. This is supposed to be dark and moody, and hopefully I can bring that across better in the new one. I also want to put rain drops on the window and make the view something more reasonable for just outside someone’s bedroom.

The posters I gave her are pieces that I just kind of threw together as I was working on everything else. This time, I’ll use some of my other art that’s already done and that could reasonably be a poster that she owns. I also want to add some shelves for more clutter (again, famous last words).

The bed will probably not be in the redo, nor the guitar. I think the bed makes the room seem very small, and this way the desk can be more of a focus. As far as the guitar, as I’ve worked more and more on Nicolette, she’s gravitated more toward keyboard, so I’d like to fit that in if I can.

Overall, I remember being proud of this piece, and I don’t think I did a bad job or had a bad idea. I do think I can do a lot more with the idea now, and I am looking forward to doing so.

#old art #critique #art critique #art redo #art redraw #artists on tumblr #illustrators on tumblr #art #illustration #my oc: nicolette

2 notes · View notes

featherlesswings · 1 year ago

Text

I turned 39 today, and I’m feeling like I should share some wisdom.

Be silly. Don’t let the brain worms win: you are allowed to be silly and enjoy yourself. Probably nobody will laugh maliciously, if you’re not still in school, but if they do - that’s on them. They are jealous that you are free.

Wear what makes you happy (as long as it’s weather appropriate and covers what’s necessary for the venue.) Don’t let yourself get stuck in a “same outfit every day because if I change my style, someone will NOTICE and they will SAY SO,” loop. Also don’t let the old rules about these bodies being allowed to wear this kind of clothes and those bodies under no circumstances being allowed to wear that kind of clothes rule your life. Wear. What. You. Like. The worst that can happen is someone will be rude (and that just means they’re not worthy of your awesomeness,) and the best thing that can happen is someone who IS stuck in the old rules will see you looking amazing in the body you have, and think, “oh, I can do that too!”

Likewise with hair. If you’re not in some situation that restricts what your hair looks like, like a religion or a branch of military or some fancy office job where they have super strict dress codes : don’t be afraid to try something daring with your hair. Dye it the color you’ve always dreamed of. Grow it long, if you want. Cut it short, and discover your real face. If you wear your hair in a ponytail all day every day because you don’t like it to be down, but you’re afraid it won’t look good short : just get it cut! You can ask a stylist what they think would look good on you. It grows back, and it’s just hair! Hair is like fingernails. It’s not that big a deal.

Jump in puddles! Preferably with rain boots on, because I’m terrified of nematodes, but barefoot every once in a while is okay too. Doesn’t matter your age. Especially if you have kids, jump in puddles with them! I made one of the best friends I’ve ever had because she saw me jumping in puddles with my babies.

Trust your own instincts. Even if your whole life, you’ve been told not to believe what you see, not to trust your own mind. If something feels wrong, act accordingly. Don’t let the rules of polite society keep you from protecting yourself or pulling out of an uncomfortable situation. Trust yourself.

If you can, if it’s available to you, take care of your mental health. Whether it be therapy, meds, reading texts about similar experiences, meditation, whatever. Praying doesn’t count, I’m sorry.

Ask for help. If you have social anxiety or feel yourself getting overstimulated or know your own limits - tell a friend, ask them to help. I’m terrified of restaurants with overhead menu boards. My husband knows what I like, so when it’s too much, I have him order something he thinks I would enjoy. Don’t be ashamed to look up specifics online before you go somewhere you’re unfamiliar with, so you can have a plan.

Before making a decision that makes a big impact on your future, think about the long term. Don’t get a pet or conceive a child on a whim.

Tell your friends you love them, often. Show them, in whatever way is your way.

You will lose friends, over the years. It’s going to be okay. Some people are only meant to share a part of your life, not see it to the end.

If it’s available to you, get out in nature from time to time. Unplugged. This one is hard for me, because I’ve got to have headphones stimulating my brain all the time, but it’s important to let your mind loose from time to time, and being outside and being quiet can help with that.

Eat before you go shopping. Sounds simple, but it will save you money and frustration. Trust me. Honestly, eat before you leave home whenever possible, unless you’re going out to eat.

I know most Gen Z and Alpha folks already have this worked out, but you do not owe the world your immediate assimilation into the 1950s cardboard cutout life. My young women & AFABs : you do not have to get married and start having kids to be taken seriously as an adult. Those of you raised evangelical will know exactly what I mean. Take your time exploring who you are, who you want to be, and what you want out of life, before tying yourself to someone who might ask you to make yourself smaller and put aside your dreams to make room for theirs.

Do art! Even if it’s bad! Especially if it’s bad! Draw on envelopes & napkins! Get cheap paints and go wild! Water color sets & watercolor paper are not expensive. Doesn’t matter if it’s dollar store stuff, or even thrift store craft supplies. Make something with glitter. It doesn’t have to be something someone would buy. Art for the fun of making art, in my opinion, is just as important as moving your body every day if you can.

I will end with my favorite quote from Space Mom, may she rest in moonlight.

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do and eventually the confidence will follow.”

- Carrie Fisher

4 notes · View notes

sasuhinasno1fan · 5 months ago

Text

When it all changed - Lukadrien June 2024 Day 1

So I know I technically posted something for Day 1 of @lukadrienmonth but I had written that on my phone, the day of my college reunion when we were all walking around and doing things. I had the hardest time coming up with an idea and I thought the 9-1-1 au would work, but I actually hated it. It didn't have much Lukadrien in it and didn't really feel like it fit the prompt. I thought this went a little better. It's a Legally Blonde au and it's most based off the musical than the movie, which kinda felt fitting. I found the MTV showing of it on the day of my graduation after I got home and this is a fic I'd been working on the day of my reunion. Anyway, Emmett is more present in the musical, helping Elle with tutoring and studying, basically supporting her as she works her way into being a lawyer while also letting her support him in being a good lawyer. I thought since he'd oringally been so focused on making a good impression and doing well enough to work hard for his mom, that Elle's apperance in his life would of been the, well, start of a whole new look on life. Not to mention it being Elle's start on seeing herself as more than just her blonde hair. And as such, we get this. Hopefully you guys like this more. Start of something new

“Welcome to the hallowed halls of Harvard Law. I’m Luka Couffaine, class of the odd 5. I know how hard all of you worked to get here, so why don’t we go around the circle and introduce ourselves?”

Three years ago, Luka was sitting where these guys where, terrified that giving up music was the worst mistake of his life but after hearing how his mom almost made it through law school when she became pregnant with him and watching her stand up for herself against the ticket loving officer in France, Luka wanted to prove himself. People looked at their family, willing to break the rules and supporting each other and thought they’d never amount to anything. Luka was this close to become partner at Barbot’s firm and fully graduating as a lawyer. Being a TA was hard work, not to mention his part time jobs just so his father wouldn’t pay his loans but if he stuck to his routine, it would be ok. Everything would fall into place.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late!” a new voice yelled, interrupting Alya’s long resume of accomplishments – and possible lawsuits, how did she get away with half that stuff?

Americans considered themselves to be contained compared to all the international admissions, but this guy? The wildest thing Luka did was dye his hair blue. The blonde in front of them was dressed, quite fashionably, in pink. Somehow he managed to find a pink Harvard shirt and his newspaper boy hat was a shade of pink plaid Luka hadn’t seen before, not even from Rose. The strangest thing was the long-haired black cat tucked under his arm. Like most cats, he was boneless but not squirming an inch, tail twitching and purring loud enough Luka could hear him from where he sat

Luka didn’t know it then but, that boy was about to change his routine, his constant, his life.

Agreste, Adrien, like most of the students in his orientation group, was from France but he’d been living in the US to attend UCLA. He’d been accepted into top school in France and even Cambridge in England, but Adrien claimed he wanted a different experience. With a fashion designer father and actress mother, no one really told him no. he boasted about being the only male to be allowed in Delta Nu and was president and actually founded a charity for kids to gain an opportunity to go school despite their circumstance called Black Cats. And oh, of course, stopped Mireille Caquet from buying a ‘truly heinous tube top.’ Luka also found out –

“Wait, wait, wait. You caused the campus to close down for half an hour? Security was scrambling all over looking for someone, that was you?”

Adrien shrugged, not looking at all bothered. “Well, I thought my personal essay would be better given in person, instead of my original idea of filming it.”

“And they still let you in?” Alya asked, Prince Ali and even XY looking surprised.

“Well, they didn’t love the singing and dancing,” they didn’t like what? “But! Once I reminded him that getting the whole UCLA marching band and most of the cheer team to come help because of the type of person I saw, they decided to give me a chance. I was homeschooled until I ran away from home enough to just attend school once. I’m stubborn.”

Adrien was, something. A bit ditzy and a little naïve and focused on one girl, Kagami Tsurugi. The teachers had high hopes for her, her own father a famous graduate and when her family weren’t destroying opponents in fencing, they were running Japan as politicians. She could have looked annoyed when she saw Adrien in class with her, more so when he’d been hearing that the girl had a very jealous girlfriend ready to use her claws, but he’d heard the most surprising thing from her.

“Who is he?” Luka asked, after giving Adrien his syllabus for the class.

“My ex. Last I saw him, we were visiting family in France before Spring Break started.”

“Huh.” He said surprised. “he’s either a stalker or determined.”

“He’s actually one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. The fact my family didn’t like him was I thought the most surprising part, but clearly, I’ve underestimated him. I’m almost looking forward to seeing the look on my mother’s face.”

Most people didn’t look proud of their Exes. Not that it lasted long. Adrien had gotten kicked out of Barbot’s class for not doing the reading, putting him on Marinette’s radar to stay away from her girlfriend, which started a trend. Adrien falling behind, despite how much he seemed to be trying, snarky comments not just from Marinette but everyone who thought the boy who loved pink didn’t belong and the bright smile Adrien had slowly growing dimmer. Plagg, Adrien’s cat, was becoming more of a security blanket than the only animal brave enough to climb onto Barbot’s table and not move after being shoved to go away.

So, Luka didn’t think much of it when he found Adrien crying on a bench on campus after another late night in the library and asked what was wrong. He’ll admit, he was surprised Adrien actually admitted he came to Harvard to follow Kagami, but he was also happy to hear that he wasn’t blind to how his school life had been going.

“So, you came out here to follow a girl and Harvard Law was just part of the plan? What rich romantic planet are you from?” he asked jokingly, pushing the bunny ears further up on Adrien’s head. Luka didn’t want to look in too deep as to why Adrien was dressed as a male Playboy bunny, just thankful he decided to wear a shirt in the East Coast fall weather.

“France? Technically.”

“SO, instead of walking through Parisian streets by the Eiffel Tower, you decide to just follow a girl to an Ivy League school? That’s got to be the weirdest reason-”

“Why’d you come?”

Luka had only ever said it once, during his own orientation. Despite being born in France like Adrien, he’d lived in the States his whole life, so his group had been bigger and most of them had zoned out by the time he spoke.

“Ok.” Luka dropped his bag on the bench and tugged his jacket off, putting it on Adrien’s shoulders. “My mamman was supposed to graduate from law school, but she dropped out to have me. It wasn’t part of my grandparent’s deal with her and when she wouldn’t go back after my first year to finish, they cut her off. So, she moved us here, not wanting anything to do with my dad. She almost got back together with him, but he never changed and he just left her with my sister. Life was hard growing up, but she worked hard to give us what we need, even after my sister’s anxiety got worse and my empathic nature made it hard for me to be around people. Thing was, she’s always been a rebel, so she’s gotten into trouble with the police. Mamman was top of her class though, so she could run rings around them but enough cop cars stopping by and a concerned social worker is enough to start rumours. People thought we wouldn’t amount to anything and I was getting so tired of people saying that to the person who gave everything up to be happy. So, I was going to prove them I could follow in her footsteps and still be better than all of them. when I win my first lucrative trail and can move us back to France so she can get the houseboat she always wanted, that’s when it’ll be worth it. I got through 3 years of law school with two jobs to pay for loans, so you’ll forgive me for not weeping at your tale.”

“Excuse me, just because you have some chip on your shoulder,” Adrien started.

“Yeah, and that chip has been the thing to help me through this and makes me driven as hell. Adrien, you’ve been given a chance most people dream of so don’t waste it. in fact,” he said, standing up and pulling his bag back on his shoulder, “think about getting a chip of your own. I want my jacket back.”

He’d given advice before, helped bolster a bit of encouragement into a student, maybe no one like Adrien, but it felt like routine at this point. Nothing should have changed.

Adrien got into Harvard after dragging a marching band and cheerleaders into the admissions office. Luka was starting to learn it was nearly impossible to not get drawn into what Adrien’s world was. So much so, that he was as surprised as his mother was when he told her what he was doing.

“Did you get my package for thanksgiving?”

Luka unlocked the door to his apartment with said package under his arm, using his foot to shut the door behind him.

“Yeah. I thought you weren’t planning on sending anything.”

“Thank Rose. Got flirted by some rich kid. A prince apparently, but he got so enamoured by her, he didn’t care she was dating your sister. Something about how he’ll be back in his country with armoured cars, so might as well make all the pretty girls happy with whatever they want?”

Luka was sent back to the first day of classes when he heard those words. “What’s his name? the ‘prince’?”

“Alibaba? No, that’s a website.”

“Ali. Prince Ali. Was Rose near campus? He goes here.”

“Oh.” His mother sounded surprised, but Luka was used to Rose doing odd things. She was a ray of sunshine dating his shadow of a sister, taken in by their pirate mother. “She was looking for you actually. Wanted to ask for a book to be held at your job and you almost never answer your phone unless you call first so. Where were you Tuesday? She thought you’d be at the library or grading papers.”

“Ah. I was helping tutor someone.”

“You?”

That wasn’t an insult. Luka was a nice person who gave encouragement but he had little patience for teaching people. He tried with Juleka, who snapped at him as much as he did her and the few times he tried during school to try and get paid for it, it ended up with him being paid to do the work because he’d become short with whoever he was teaching.

“There’s this student, a freshman. He’s…different.”

“Different enough that your tutoring him?”

He hadn’t planned it. Adrien dragged him back into conversation that night by asking for advice on how he managed to do it all during his first years, not that he seemed to listen as his main focus was trying to prove he was serious. He’d been invited back to Adrien’s room – all brightly coloured can slightly covered in black cat hair – and when Adrien admitted to studying magazines more than his text books, he sort of, snapped. He thought dismantling the desk turned vanity would annoy Adrien enough that he wouldn’t even try but even with a bit of groaning, Adrien still unearthed his textbooks and let Luka help him. Instead of heading to the library after Barbot’s classes, he’d find himself with Adrien, either dragging him to the library with him, admitting defeat and going to a coffee shop on occasion or to Adrien’s room. Being at his room meant sharing the new desk space with Plagg, Adrien’s cat and quizzing Adrien as he became as addicted to Redbulls as Adrien was. Whenever Adrien had essays or readings, Luka would still find himself in the dorm room working on his own work for classes or whatever Barbot dropped in his lap for work.

He hadn’t realised he’d fallen into new habits since meeting Adrien. It probably explained why when he went to their next study session, after he convinced Adrien to skip going home for Thanksgiving, that he took the whole package his mother had sent him and pushed back their normal video call where he’d eat the food sent with them.

“What’s this?” Adrien asked pulling out the half-thawed pieces of turkey and artichoke dip.

“I know you wanted to see your friends, so I thought we should at least feast on the classics. Unless you were heading home to France and want foir gros.”

“Gross.” Adrien said, scrunching his nose. He looked a picture, dressed down in an oversized pink UCLA hoodie and pyjama pants covered in anime characters. “I hate foir gros. To be honest, I hadn’t decided where I was going. I just planned on figuring it out when I got to the airport. Oh, don’t look at me like that. We don’t celebrate thanksgiving in France but I have good memories of it. one of my older sorority sisters invited me my first year. It was a massive thing, somehow missing all the trashy drama that happens now, but they let me join in their traditions, we watched the Addams Family movies and just eat the food. France just has my family. Though, dad is paying for me to come here, even after he didn’t think I should. I know most of my family doesn’t think I’m all that serious, even after what I did just to go to school in person with people and I’d like to prove to them I am. But they still believed in me. All I had to do was ace the LSATs and all years were paid. I guess passing my first year would prove to them they made the right choice.”

“You will.” Luka promised. “Now, we can steal the oven in the kitchen to warm the food up while I quiz you on famous cases. Remember, Barbot is going to have you justify your case for your test. Think you can keep up?”

Adrien looked nervous, but like everything else – except for when he’d broken down on that bench that fall night – he looked determined.

“I can do it.”

_____________________

The crush? That started to clue in later. His mother would tease him whenever he mentioned he’d been with Adrien, which was nearly every day when he wasn’t busy. The holidays had thankfully slowed the office as many gave up high profile cases for vacations in warmer weathers but Luka filled the time off he’d been given with more shifts at his jobs, going over Adrien’s work and slowly getting Adrien to realise that his desire to get Kagami’s attention was doing more harm than good.

It had clicked for the blonde when Luka came to drop off his present. It had been a joke, the 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, mostly to see the disgusted and horrified look on his face when Luka mentioned he used it.

“you have coloured hair! You recently coloured it too.” Luka hadn’t expected Adrien to dig his hands into his hair, messing up his bangs and causing them to fall into his eyes. “how on earth do you use that stuff and your hair is this soft?” Luka should have picked up on something when he noticed that Adrien’s hands, whenever they passed over his ears, were really soft. “You are joking right? Luka, I swear if this is what you actually use.”

Someone clearing their throat reminded them they weren’t alone. Luka pulled Adrien’s hands away to look at the guy smirking at them from Adrien’s bed. “Don’t mind me, just enjoying the show.”

“Ah. Right. Luka, this is Max. he graduated from MIT early and works at the nail salon I go to.”

“Right. With the miniature horse.”

“He’s a trained therapy animal.” Max reassured. Honestly, Luka was doing criminal and divorce law, that was not his problem. “I was helping Adrien study. I think I’ll head out though. Nice to finally meet you Luka. Adrien mentions you all the time.”

“Nothing bad!” Adrien assured as Max disappeared doing something behind Luka’s head that he barely caught. “But seriously, you were joking right?”

“Adrien?” Kagami asked, knocking on the door. The blonde ripped his wrists from Luka’s hands and smiled at his ex. “have you gotten the email from Barbot yet? I wanted to print off the reading he wants us to do to read on the plane home and I still haven’t seen anything.”

“I, uh,” Adrien giggled. “I…um?”

Luka decided to help him out. “I send the readings out. Barbot hasn’t sent me the original documents he wants. It’ll be out soon.”

Kagami seemed surprised to see him there, glancing at Adrien before nodding to herself. She looked set on something before offering her thanks and leaving, Adrien still as incoherent as he’d been when she walked in. he knew this is why Adrien wasn’t doing so well, focused on getting Kagami’s attention. Why it filled him with such hot rage, he had no clue. Watching Adrien put the pieces together and actually win his practise case was amazing, more so when Barbot seriously accepted Adrien’s resume for his internship, even printed on pink paper and scented. When Adrien was one of the 4 names, Luka couldn’t be prouder.

He could have done without him deciding to be a trustworthy lawyer to their client Clara Nightengale by keeping her alibi secret and not budging for anyone. Not even him. It somehow then evolved into Adrien dragging him shopping.

“I don’t need a new suit.” He tried protesting as the entered the department store.

“Luka,” Adrien turned, looking odd in the black suit he was in. it was the first time he wasn’t in any sort of pink. “I know you’ll find a way of winning this without Clara’s alibi or a plea deal, not to mention doing the one thing you’re trying to avoid.”

“Which is?”

“giving people what they want. Luka, come on, you became a lawyer because everyone thought you’d amount to nothing and that your mother was the same. The same woman who raised you to be a rebel and do the right thing.”

“How is clothes going to help with that?”

Adrien actually giggled and bounced in place at the question. “clothes help paint the picture. I love your jean jackets and ripped jeans and I know you’re an amazing lawyer but looking the part would be a massive help in showing what you can do. I know you’re amazing. Now we just need to show everyone else. Come on! god, I love shopping for guys!”

Since dawning the black suit, Adrien seemed to be hiding but the whole experience made him look like the naive freshman who graduated UCLA to follow a girl he’d moved on from. Silly as it sounded, it was the side of Adrien he loved. He didn’t do this, get so involved with a student that they became his best friend, that he wanted to gain their approval, that they’d be so concerned over him not going back on his morals just to gain the approval of a boss to make his life easier.

“Love? It’s the new scent from Calvin Klein.” A department associated offered.

He didn’t fall in love.

But since that first day, where Adrien rushed over to their group decked in pink and carrying Plagg, full of tales and anecdote, unwilling to give up no matter how hard, Luka’s whole life had changed. There was a new routine, a new path. That first day was the start of something new he was never expecting.

And he wouldn’t change it for the world. The things that almost made him lose him after, that he would, but considering it got Adrien back into his signature pink plus bonus heels – a sight that would never get old – he couldn’t be too upset.

#lukadrienjune #lukadrienmonth #lukadrienjune2024

1 note · View note

blissfullyecho · 2 years ago

Note

I have virgin brown hair and it’s very dry along with curly. I would love to go blonde but I am so scared of ruining my hair and the maintenance that comes with it. I’d also like it to look semi-natural as to let me brown hair grow out without worrying about my roots, since I’m rather busy and would rather not have to deal with having to re-dye it every week.

Do you have any advice on brunettes going blonde? And how do I know that blonde will look good on me?

this is my exact routine + products i use before i bleach my hair. keep in mind i’m also a natural brunette (my hair isn’t super dark though) and i let my roots grow out a bit.

what i did was a balayage, then got a full highlight each time i went back and now my hair is a level 10 icey blonde. my highlights allow me to go 8 weeks without touching up because my girl does a good job. so ask first for a balayage and let them know that you plan on being a full blonde. what you could also do is a platinum card and do a root melt or smudge so that your hair will be lightened all one color and your roots would blend out, then your following appointment could be the highlight sessions.

go to a professional ONLY. my salon specializes in blondes so they would be able to tell you what they think is the best route to take. consultations are also free for the most part. don’t be cheap either— my hair costs me about $500 every 8 weeks, not including my extensions which totaled to about $2,500. being blonde is a lot of maintenance and money so make sure you can and DO NOT CUT CORNERS!

the products i use are k18, kerastase blonde oil, kerastase shampoo/conditioner in orange bottle, and the amika deep conditioner. because you have virgin hair, your hair is naturally healthier than most. you just need better products and an actual routine.

i use k18 once a week, i deep condition with heat once a week, i sleep with my hair in a braid on a satin pillow case every night, i use a silk/satin scrunchie, and i use expensive products. in this case, you do get what you pay for. drugstore/cheap brands leave a wax/film on your strands which is a temporary fix to it feeling dry but it’s actually not penetrating the strands.

also, lay off heat for a solid minute. i don’t use heat about a week prior to my appointments and i make sure to baby my hair.

i would first go to a consultation and she what she says, stick to a good routine with good products, and then go blonde. hurry up and make appointments now because salons are always busy in the summer because everyone wants to be blonde.

i think everyone looks better blonde lol, no matter what shade they are. if you have very reddish/pink skin, stay away from warm blonde. if you have olive skin, i think ice AND warm looks good. if you have dark skin, i would say ice/cool/ash looks good. your hair girl/guy will tell you what shade they think would look best :)

#q/a

10 notes · View notes

moviesessionwithmyhubby · 1 year ago

Text

The onion

Have you ever peeled away the layers of an onion? What is the sensation like? Does it have a sweet flavor? No, the release of specific compounds triggers irritation of the nerves surrounding the eyes, ultimately leading to the shedding of tears. In my introspective moments, I often liken myself to an onion - a stubborn one with a multitude of layers to peel back.

My decisions tend to be impulsive when I’m emotional, not of importance that would significantly alter the course of my life, but rather the kind that are somewhat bold and reckless. As I thought about various choices, I decided to dye my hair a vibrant shade of pink, embellish my belly with a piercing, trim my hair into stylish bangs, resign from my position at a company, or even considered adopting another kitten - though my husband thankfully intervened. The reason behind my inclination towards impulsive and unconventional choices had always eluded me. My friends often regard me as a person of boldness and courage, a quality that my husband also acknowledged upon initially observing my behavior. I, too, shared the same thought. I once believed myself to be a daring young woman, unafraid to make bold choices and venture beyond the confines of my comfort zone - something that many of those around me seemed unable to do. I felt a sense of pride in myself and in this particular trait, as if I were a unique individual among my peers. I have friends who embody diverse lifestyles. One of them is a dynamic young woman who possesses a clear sense of direction in life, and is driven by her ambitious career goals and financial aspirations. Another friend of mine is fortunate enough to have a wealthy father who can afford to finance her education abroad. And another friend who is similar to royalty in her family, and is so pampered that she has never had to learn how to ride a scooter. As I gazed upon my reflection, I found myself lacking any noticeable traits that set me apart. So I chose to embrace this audacity unintentionally as my defining feature. Over time, as I engaged in conversations with my husband, he gradually peeled back the layers of the onion. "Have you ever thought about the reason behind your impulsive choices during moments of heightened emotion?" he asked. And in that moment, a sudden realization dawned upon me - the reason behind it all remained a mystery. I had always considered it to be one of my characteristics and had never before thought about the reasons behind my tendency for such behavior.

But as I settled into a reflective state, I started reflecting upon the choices I had made thus far. It dawned on me that my tendency to make unconventional and daring decisions was often a means of avoiding the true issue at hand. As I reflect on a past experience, I recall dyeing my hair a vibrant shade of pink when I was struggling with a sense of professional uncertainty in my former workplace. The trajectory of my career there was unclear, and I found myself at a loss for how to proceed. And rather than confront this challenge head-on, I made the impulsive decision to shift my attention towards my hair. Or in another time, during a particularly stressful period at work, I sought comfort in the form of a belly piercing. The physical discomfort of the piercing served as a welcome distraction from the mental stress of my job, allowing me to momentarily escape the pressures of the workplace. Or one day, as I dealt with a spin of emotions and an uncertain outlook on the future, a stray kitten crossed my path. My office took the small creature under our wing, providing it with shelter and care until we were able to find a suitable home for it. The adorable kitten was giving a soft, endearing "meow" each time it caught sight of me. I asked my husband, "Baby, can I adopt this adorable kitten?" Do you see the random nature of my decision-making process? But the important thing is that I have never in all honesty been satisfied or gratified as a result of these actions; rather, I have just been distracted from the actual problems. Perhaps the image of a bold and courageous young woman is merely a facade that I have constructed to conceal my inner cowardice. I do not consider myself devoid of courage, nor do I pretend it entirely. To some extent, I maintain a valiant disposition and possess a firm "go-for-it" mentality. However, in moments of heightened emotions, my decision-making process tends to be impulsive. I make these decisions with great speed. But I must admit that I have become somewhat attached to the persona of a bold and daring individual, often using it as a crutch to avoid confronting challenges in my life. The memory of the film American Beauty, which I viewed alongside my husband, comes to mind. The film portrays the miserable characters who reside within their own personas, constructing a facade to present to the world while concealing their genuine inner selves. As I observed Angela, a youthful young lady who displayed an air of seduction, I couldn't help but notice a striking resemblance between us. The way she behaved and looked seemed to embody the classic sex symbol. She covers herself with plenty of cosmetics, enjoys the admiration of men, and endeavors to accentuate her physical allure, primarily due to her aspiration of becoming a model. So, if you don't look at Angela too closely, you'd believe she was overconfident and perhaps arrogant to the point of being insufferable. At the conclusion of the film, though, we witness a completely different side of her. After spending the whole film acting to be this experienced girl, she finally admits to Lester that she is a virgin. After that, it's as if a curtain is lifted, revealing the actual Angela, who is fragile and very insecure. So, beneath my brave girl veil, there's a scared young girl who doesn't know how to deal with her own difficulties. However, my husband is willing to be there to guide me through. Do you remember my earlier mention of my husband's gradual unraveling of the onion's layers? You know, the act of peeling an onion is far from pleasant, as it inevitably leads to tears. My husband and I have faced various challenges while peeling off the layers of my onion. Gazing inward to confront my authentic self is a difficult task, one that proves equally challenging for him, given my resilient nature similar to that of a sturdy onion. I remember that night when I was explaining all of this to my husband, he asked me why I didn’t simply confront the issue and work on finding a solution. I was taken aback, and all I could say was that I had no idea how to do it. Perhaps at my core, I have long been used to avoiding challenges throughout my existence. It was the sole method I had to confront the issue at hand - shifting my attention and fleeing. Until the moment I encountered my beloved husband and embarked upon our romantic journey. The experience of being in a relationship with my husband has brought to light a multitude of realizations. It makes me realize I have flaw, and I have come to the realization that certain behaviors I had previously deemed acceptable, or commonplace may in fact be negative to both myself, and those around me. He encourages me to confront my imperfections and errors, for he believes that it takes courage to acknowledge one's faults and tackle the ensuing challenges. So this is what I did, I engaged in self-reflection. I meticulously peeled back the layers of my being, much like one would peel back the layers of an onion, and wrote about my journey in this post. Upon reading my written words, my husband said that he perceived me to be a courageous girl, possessing an innate bravery that allowed me to openly acknowledge my innermost demons. He held onto the hope that when the world delved into the pages of my book, they would approach their critiques with a gentle touch, recognizing that imperfection is an inherent trait of humanity.

3 notes · View notes

manyothermusingsofmine · 1 month ago

Text

Lake of Thoughts || Drabble

Fandom: Xmen Warnings: Passive suicide ideation by a character Wordcount: 3325 Summary: Miranda's retelling of what actually transpired before she joined the mansion conveniently turns her rockbottom moment into just being asleep before her kitchen cabinet breaks and scares her so bad it awakens her dormant ability AN: Before my friends get concerned about my mental state, Miranda's thoughts here are fully her own, not mine. I think the last time I had anything like the feeling of staring into the sky and wishing I was a cloud so I could be free from everything (which is also passive suicide ideation btw) is a good, what, ten to fifteen years ago? Like I'm just saying, my mental health train has abandoned that track ever since I entered my late teens early twenties and hasn't gone back to it since, so.. I'm kind of proud of that, actually. --------------------------------------

-These shallow waters never met what I needed I’m letting go, a deeper dive- There never seemed to be much change to Miranda's routine. For years it had been the same spiel of getting up in the morning, working at the catering in the hospital to keep the other staff and visitors fed for about eight work hours, only to go home and sit around until it was time to sleep and then do the whole thing again the day after that.

That was the baseline of her routine, day in, day out; only occasionally interrupted by arguing with HR again that her hair was a dye job and her eyes were contact lenses, that no she wasn't a mutant, and the rules didn't specify someone in her low ranking position wasn't allowed to modify themselves in such a way. The staff that actually dealt with the patients, sure, but she knew the rules and regulations that applied to her verbatim by now. Her only real relief in the monotony of her daily routine was when a woman from the labs came poking around the cafeteria. She went by the name of Shadow, and loved to talk about her work within the allowed guidelines- it genuinely made the day a little less miserable when Shadow showed up to have a talk and get some food before going back to their lab work.

And then one day, Shadow disappeared. What was supposed to just be some scheduled days off seemed to turn into her just vanishing from the hospital all together. If there were whispers about what had happened, Miranda was far too drawn into herself to really make note of it. With no way of contacting Shadow, she let out a sigh of resignation and just returned back to the same old schedule.

Lingering in the breakroom by herself, she threw a glance at the TV as it showed Scott Summers in an interview. Huh, her brain remarked in a numb way, must be nice on some level to be a proper mutant with proper powers. At least it seemed to come with a near instant community. With people who noticed. The pen she had been rhythmically tapping on the breakroom table, she suddenly pelted with full force at the ceiling, watching as it lodged itself into the paper thin ceiling that separated the breakroom from an empty old storage room above.

She watched it while begging her heart to feel something, anything, at her unusual outburst. Anger. Upset. Anxiety about being caught damaging property; anything. But it didn't. It just steadily kept on beating, while the dull, clouded feeling of her mind never seemed to clear up. Not even over the rest of the week.

Miranda left her work at the same time she always did, getting on the same bus that dropped her a block or so away from her apartment. As the door fell shut behind her, she stared in front of herself into the dark apartment, the cold shape of her furniture in the dark offering no solace or comfort in a way she needed. It was at moments like these where she kind of wished she had a pet to come home to. To which her mind just dully sneered that she could barely take care of herself. That no one but the landlord would notice if she wasn't here; and he would only notice when her rent wasn't paid for several months.

She pushed herself off the front door, turning around to open it and leave her apartment, slamming and locking the door behind her and just... walking off.

She walked until she hit the shores of Breakstone Lake, sitting down in the sand that surrounded the water. Listening to the soft rustle of the waves as they washed ashore, her mind finally went quiet if only for a moment. As soon as her thoughts started back up, she just stared out into the wide void of the lake's water.

Really no one would care if this pathetic little girl vanished one day, her mind muttered, as her eyes watched the waves. What she wouldn't give to become the foam on top of the waves as they rolled-

"Mrrow?"

She jolted a little before turning her head to the source of the sound. Beside her sat a, hard to make out in the night sky, black cat. Big, amber eyes curiously observed her. She slowly, hesitantly, reached her hand out to the cat.

".... Hi?"

She got a few little sniffs in return before the cat eagerly rubbed its face against her hand, and then all but leaped into her lap to settle against her stomach with a surprisingly loud purr. The same hand she had reached out to the feline slowly followed it and lowered itself down until the tips of her fingers felt fur underneath them. She pressed down further until her palm was fully sunk into the soft, black fur; while the cat only purred louder.

For some reason the sensation of soft cat fur with the increasing purr making the feline sound like an engine that refused to start cracked something about the dull, numb mask she had been hiding behind the whole time. Tears she didn't realise she still had poured down her face as she coiled in on herself.

A worried little noise left her new feline friend, as they got up from their comfortable position in her lap to stand up on their hindlegs. Pressing their little front paws on her chest, the kitty sniffed at her face before pressing their little snoot to her cheek. The cold sensation of cat nose against her cheek made her uncoil just a little as it broke through the haze of her mind.

A shaky hand reached to the cat, slowly running down their back as much to reassure them as it was to soothe her.

".... You're a sweetheart, huh?" tears and emotion clung heavily to her voice, as she tried to swallow the chunk in the back of her throat, "thank you. Where did you even come from?"

The cat didn't answer; it would be silly to think the feline could respond to her. But getting to pet them calmed her mind as the sensation of the fur kept her rooted to earth. She couldn't tell how long she sat there just fussing over this cat until the kitty leaped out of her lap and walked away.

Yeah, it would be too much to wish even the cat would stay aro- something was staring at her. Miranda turned in the direction of where the cat had gone, only to see it sit a little bit away from her; staring at her while not moving even a smidge

"... What?"

The cat walked back, rubbing up against her arm and pushing and shoving until they clambered back into her lap. Wiggling back out over her arm, they leaped back to the ground and trotted away, sitting back in the same spot to stare at her. Miranda sighed, throwing another glance at the lake.

"Mrrreh!" the cat chirped, the noise almost sounding annoyed with her; but the big, curious eyes betrayed nothing like annoyance when she looked back at the cat.

“Fine, fine; if it’ll stop you yelling at me,” she huffed, getting up and following the cat.

They halted in front of the gate to the mansion, the cat wiggling for a moment before jumping up on the fence that surrounded the property. She couldn’t be bothered to figure out how big it was, shooting a glance at the mansion before looking back at the feline and raising an eyebrow.

“No, can’t do, buddy. They don’t want me there, yknow, on account of me not being a mutant. Not mutant enough, however you want to call it,” she reached out to the cat one more time, gently scratching them behind the ear, “but thank you for your company, little one. I don’t think I can ever repay you, but it’s time to get back to my boring life, I guess.”

And with that she left.

Not too much longer later, the black cat turned to look at the short mutant that seemed to emerge out of nowhere, sniffing the whole way as he had picked up an unfamiliar scent around the premise of his home. He just found the feline, and the scent trail seemed to wander off in the opposite way of the mansion.

“And what are you up to, then?”

“Mrr.”

“Don’t you be bringing in any more strays,” the man’s voice was as gruff as his looks, “you been building up a track record, fuzzy.”

“Mrrp.”

When the door fell shut behind her a second time, Miranda almost leaped out of her skin when an absolute chaotic cacophony came from the kitchen; a horrible thunderous sound as a bunch of things all clattered and broke apart when they fell on the floor. She tossed one look onto the mess that was now her kitchen floor, and with a groan decided that was a problem she would deal with tomorrow. Without even changing into her pajamas, she wandered over to her bed and flopped down, deflated from the whole evening.

Morning came far too soon, the blaring of her alarm only getting a deserved hit to shut it up as she slowly pushed herself out of bed, shuffling past the big mirror on the wall and fully halting at the door of her bedroom. Wait a minute. She slowly walked back without even turning around, throwing another look in the mirror where her reflection showed… frightfully little, actually. Just the work clothes she had kept on the whole night, floating as if they were cloaking someone who wasn’t actually there. So either the cat she had interacted with last night had somehow given her vampiric powers, or…

Holding her hands out in front of herself, she saw nothing. She could feel how she turned her hands back and forth, but they didn’t seem to be there. She inhaled, slow, deep, before exhaling like a dragon on a hoard would exhale a plum of smoke- her feelings on this new revelation boiling in the pit of her stomach to the point where she felt like she was actually going to exhale smoke from annoyance and frustration.

“Sure. Fucking, alright then, I guess. Why not. Might as well happen on a fucking Tuesday morning.”

She called in sick, and needed to pull on everything in her power to not just fling the cellphone straight out of the balcony window as she flopped back on her bed and angrily stared at the ceiling. She flailed, not seeing any of her limbs doing so but feeling it all the more

“Now what?! How the fuck, why- who do I even call for a problem like this?! What the actual, absolute fuck, man?!”

The whole day was spent trying to figure out how to not run into literally every piece of furniture she owned, and failing miserably as not being able to tell where exactly her limbs were made it obnoxiously difficult to navigate even her own home, and also trying whatever she could think of to make herself visible again. The next day fared her only little better, with her looking through her now disastrous looking apartment before throwing her hands up in the air.

“You know what, fine, whatever, I guess I’ll go ask Tony Stark about whatever the fuck this is, if I don’t get fucking vaporized on his porch by whatever high tech security system he has. Why me, why am I this universe favorite little chew toy, god damn it?!”

She groaned, turning the tv on to try and calm herself down before she actually did something like that; what the hell was Stark going to do about something like this? If he was even home- she halted on a channel that played a rerun of the Scott Summers interview she had seen a week or so ago. Once again she looked at where she could only imagine her hands actually were.

“… I would snap my fingers for my eureka moment but I kind of can’t fucking see where they are. But… that does sound like the better solution, I think. Less likely to get me vaporized, anyway.”

So she left her apartment in that complete state of disarray; not caring in the slightest what a disaster zone it was as she slammed the door behind her and left the building to make her way back to the mansion. Maybe it was because of how little she had to lose or how much audacity she gained by having absolutely nothing even resembling a fuck left to give that getting into the mansion was surprisingly easy, while she played her plan in her head over and over again of just getting to the guy running the place or the scientist he had for hire that Summers had brought up in the interview. If neither of them knew how to turn her back, then she would consider herself royally fucked.

Instead, she got jump scared back into being visible by… genuinely, the most interesting looking fellow she had ever laid eyes upon. There was so much going on between the color and fuzzy nature of his skin, the deep pools of yellow that formed his eyes, the general shape of him being so humanoid and at the same time not human at all- as soon as she noted to herself that she could finally see her hands again she couldn’t help but feel her eyes constantly dart to the mutant beside her in pure, unbridled curiosity.

"Ohh," Shadow chimed in, "it's a startle response. Interesti- Wait. Miranda?!"

Right. Shadow was here, too, in full argument with the tall guy with black and red eyes that Shadow and the guy beside her referred to as Gambit. With Shadow being here at the mansion, it didn’t take a genius to put together that her vanishing from the hospital was probably because she was a mutant, and people had figured that out somehow.

“Sup?” Miranda asked, tossing up a peace sign to show she meant no harm.

As some point, for some reason, the blue one beside her left the scene as fast as he arrived; she felt herself jump, only to look at her hand to see the fucking thing was gone again. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling above and let out a groan that seemed to come from somewhere within the pit of her soul. Shadow told Gambit to piss off, albeit it in far more politer terms and with the request to fetch the doctor, while Miranda just decided to lean on the nearest wall. When Shadow asked, Miranda told her what happened for her to wake up with what felt like everything missing.. or rather, the version where she didn’t need to bring up the brooding she had done at the lake, or the cat that had stopped her from making a decision there might not have been any coming back from.

And then Miranda just stared at Shadow for a long time, easily having picked up on some kind of vibe between her and the Cajun.

"You, and Gambit?"

"Are just friends," Shadow immediately bit at her. Miranda heard herself scoff at the mere notion. Yeah, okay. Sure.

"Uhuh."

"Don't you take that tone with me when it took less than five seconds of you being visible to see that you were looking at Nightcrawler."

"Lord forbid the plush toy granted sentience piques my interest in any way."

He really did. Could anyone blame her in the slightest for her curiosity there? Her mind was already trying to make sense of how he was supposed to work; the tail, the teleporting, his eyes? All of it was genuinely fascinating to think about. Was that rude? She wasn’t sure if that could be considered-

“Not to worry!” a voice called from behind her, making her jump up with a squeak and immediately turning her visible again. Great, but she could do without the heart attack two separate people had insisted on giving her to make it work

“Fucking hell, there's got to be an easier way to turn me back than this!"

“Mrr?”

It was months later on a sunny summer afternoon, that Miranda found herself leaning on the windowsill in her room. She opened her eyes at the soft cat noise beside her, smiled at the black feline and gently reaching over to pet him; “Hi, Noctis.”

He started purring as soon as she touched him, stepping in between her arms on the windowsill and sitting down right under her chin with a purr as she pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. She gently scooped him up in her arms, running a free hand gently over his fur as he nestled up against her chest.

“I owe you a lot, buddy. You knew all along that I would be safe here, huh?” she muttered, lightly scratching him behind the ear only to be met with way more, way louder purring, her heart melting at the sound, “thank you for helping me out, that night.”

She stood there for a while with Noctis in her arm when she heard the familiar sound of someone appearing right behind her in a huff of purple smoke. She turned towards him, still lightly petting the cat nestled in her embrace, to which Kurt just softly laughed.

“Ah, it shouldn’t surprise me to find you with him. He seems to be your favorite.”

“More like I seem to be his favorite,” Miranda said softly.

Noctis jumped back out of her arms onto the windowsill, allowing her to pet him once more before leaving through the window and making his way up to the roof. She placed her arms back on the windowsill like she had before, watching the black tail of the cat curl up and vanish as he clambered up on the roof. Kurt joined her, mirroring her pose in the windowsill while close enough that their arms were touching, and Miranda calmly breathed out as she looked out over the forest. Far off in the distance she could see the slight glimmer of the sunlight hitting the water of Breakstone Lake.

“… Maybe one day I’ll tell you why Noctis is my favorite of the stray cats around here,” she muttered, lightly pressing the back of her hand against the back of his, only for Kurt to gently take a hold of her hand. She looked down at their intertwined hands for a moment, her heart fluttering at the sight, “… just… It’s not a story for a day like this. More a story for a stormy, rainy night.”

She pressed a kiss against his cheek, leaning against him as she felt his tail curl protectively around her waist.

“I’ll listen when you’re ready to tell it,” he promised in a soft whisper, bringing her hand up and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. Miranda just looked at him, her emerald green eyes softening at his gentle displays of affection- Did he have any idea how much it meant to her to know he was by her side like this? Knowing she could count on him to be there when she needed him?

-Eternal silence of the sea, I’m breathing; alive-

Somewhere above them on the roof, Noctis flopped down next to Autumn, the reddish tabby stray that seemed to wish to remain glued to his side when he wasn’t hanging out with the people of the mansion. She slowly lowered herself to the roof in a loaf form, lightly rubbing her cheek against her feline friend before she calmly started to groom the black fur that gained a blue sheen in this sunny weather.

#Drifting writes things

1 note · View note

thevoyageurmoteplass-writing · 2 years ago

Photo

From my Superpowers Story, Sophia Laverna. She’s an anti-hero, though her journey throughout the story blurs the lines of morality with her actions a little sometimes. Sophia tends to dye her hair black over the top with red beneath it, and depending on what she’s doing depends on how easy it is for people to see this; she’s also very short.

Tell us, in one sentence, what your character’s ultimate goal is.

Sophia’s ultimate goal is to outsmart people, to prove that while they might think they’re the cleverest person in the room it’s not always a guarantee.

What actor could you envision playing your character in a movie? (faceclaim)

I think Deborah Ann Woll would be a good actor to play Sophia.

What is their theme song?

Probably Smooth Criminal by Michael Jackson. There’s something classical in the sound of it that I think fits with Sophia, but also the title alone works for her most of the time.

Which character trope do they fit the best?

Lovable rogue; while she does work for the family business, there’s something about her that is far kinder than the world she inhabits allows her to show all the time.

Are they physically fit? What sport would they play?

Sophia is reasonably physically fit, and she trains with some of the gang members so they can all stay in some sort of good shape.

She’s not really a big one for sports, but she’d probably pick snooker if she had to do one.

What is their spirit animal?

I took a test for this, and Sophia got a wolf.

The power of the wolf brings forth instinct, intelligence, appetite for freedom, and awareness of the importance of social connections. When the wolf shows up in your life, pay attention to what your intuition is telling you.

How about their Hogwarts house?

I took a test for this, and Sophia got Hufflepuff.

So, you're 29% Hufflepuff, 29% Gryffindor, 22% Ravenclaw, and 20% Slytherin! You seem to be an almost perfect combination of all four houses, which is incredibly rare – you’re equal in your intelligence, bravery, loyalty, and ambition. As we know, though, the Sorting Hat takes your preference into account...so it looks like you get to choose your own house. Congratulations!

What is their greatest character flaw? How does it affect their journey?

Sophia’s greatest character flaw is probably her pride.

This affects her journey because sometimes she doesn’t ask for help when she needs it, all because it would hurt her pride if somebody saw that sort of weakness in her. Not all the time, but sometimes with the big things more than anything.

What scene with them are you looking forward to writing the most?

I’ve gone through so many different iterations of her story and parts of it, but the scene I’m most looking forward to writing again is her initial meeting with Mathias. It’s one of the first meet-cute moments that I ever really thought about, so I can’t wait to see what might come from it this time.

Have they undergone any emotional trauma? How does it affect them/their choices?

Sophia has a lot of baggage in her past, but the biggest moment of emotional trauma for her was losing her close friend Jack – he was also a surrogate cousin to her. Not only was losing him bad enough, but she was there when it happened so the moment is ingrained in her memory for that as well.

It affects her because she now doesn’t take things for granted quite as much, knowing that things can change in an instant. It affects her choices because she’s a little more reckless with her decisions on things in life, but far more cautious with things relating to the job.

Do they use magic? What type is it and why is this the magic you chose for them?

Sophia does not use magic; however, she does have the ability – essentially a superpower – to teleport.

Teleportation was something that I chose for Sophia simply because it felt like the right power for her to develop. It’s been interesting seeing how things can be limited for her, especially in the role of robber.

#Repost #Made By Me #Tag Games #Superpowers Story #Sophia Laverna

0 notes

aspxnvii · 2 years ago

Text

I start my new job tomorrow ! it’s the first job that i’ll be doing 10 hr night shifts ,, but they let you wear whatever, you can dye your hair unnatural colors, you can have nails AND they allow piercings

fuck fast food jobs . they didn’t allow any expression. i’m so excited to work in a warehouse while i try to win the lottery for my first career job. i graduate college in a month and aaa this is the happiest i’ve been in awhile and i just feel so content

I also for my tax return today so that helps lmfao,, plus its been nice to start watching anime and gaming again after working so hard in college and pushing myself too hard at my last job

I feel content for the first time in years and a bitch is welcoming this new chapter (:

#rambles #diary #head.empty

0 notes

moemoemammon · 3 years ago

Note

Sorry, my English is not good, but if it's alright can I ask for some fluff head canon for beel, belphie, asmo and mammon or just one if fine if your feeling tired and not good today :) if its just one please do Asmo, and the headcanon I want is for them just getting there hair brushed or braided, female reader or gender neutral is fine I AM SO SORRY MY ENGLISH IS UGLY. But please can I have some hair fluff :3

Brushing the Bros' Hair!

(Feat GN!MC, and the Demon Bros)

I just went ahead and did em all lmao

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer has his softer moments when he's especially weak to you, more specifically your touch. So when you ask to brush his hair, he doesn't refuse.

It's the ultimate stress relief and he melts under your touch every time your fingers brush along his scalp. He's nearly forgotten about the brush tbh

He lets out a long sigh, clearly content. He'll have to treat you to dinner as a thanks. It's almost like you sensed how stressed he was, or maybe you saw the pile of papers on his desk when you passed his room.

Either way, you being here is much appreciated. An old man like him finds joy in the little things. But don't comment on his greys-

"Thank you, MC. I enjoy the time we spend together like this. It's odd to be the one that's tended to for once, but... I can't say that I dislike it when it comes from you."

Mammon

At this point, Mammon basically makes you brush his hair.

It's become something of a routine between the two of you, where he'll get out of the shower and finish blow drying it, and lets you take care of all the brushing.

A busy man like The Great Mammon doesn't have time for such trivial things! Besides, he sorta likes the way you do it, and it's nice to feel your hands in his hair, and...

What're you staring for? Get to it! He's already taken a seat on the bed, so you should know what he wants without making him say it, right?

"..............." It's not that he doesn't have anything to say, but rather, the moment the brush touches his head he's silent. He's melting into your touch like an overgrown house cat. Is that purring you hear?

Levi

Once you get past the whole "yucky otaku" thing, and his general aversion to being cute with you, he finds that he actually likes having his hair brushed!

You can guess that his schedule doesn't allow a lot of time for self care, so it's a big help when you'll do it for him.

Did he mention how nice it feels?? It's like he's the only person in the world when you smooth his hair back, delicately brushing every strand. He might end up getting addicted to this...

It's almost become a normal thing where you'll do it while he games, so he's intently focused on the screen until you "accidentally" brush against his ear.

"H-Hey! Be careful with that, will you?? The brushing help me focus, but I can't concentrate if you mess with me! If you're teasing me, I'll get you back..!"

Satan

Surprisingly, he actually lets you brush his hair! Satan's not the cuddly type, but when it comes to little romantic things like this, he's all for it.

He'll seat himself patiently and let you brush his hair while he reads, finding it even easier to get lost in the pages. Sometimes you can sneak up on him and just brush his hair while he's not paying attention, and he won't even notice until you stop.

THEN he gets all embarrassed about it, trying to deflect and act like he wasn't just thoughtfully leaning into your hand like a cat nuzzling for affection.

He can't hide from you, though. You swear he was about to pull you even closer while you were brushing his hair, so it's obvious he liked it. Conveniently keeps placing his hairbrush out in the open from then on.

"I can't help that if feels nice, can I? It's so relaxing, I'm almost afraid I'll become addicted. If that happens, will you take responsibility?"

Asmo

Asmodeus is very particular about who and what touches his hair, so you can guarantee that he practically trained you on how to do it. You're like a certified hairdresser at this rate! From curls to ombré dye jobs, you can practically do it all

And Asmo is spoiled so he'll pester you every chance he gets to have you brush his hair. He'll also whine about it should you decline, and do everything in his power to guilt you. He just manicured his nails so he can't do it himself, MC! 🥺

Asmo's especially receptive to your touch, and he tends to move around a LOT. It's because he's so excited he can barely sit still! He keeps trying to turn around to kiss you, so the process takes forever.

He makes it sound like it's a privilege to do, as if you're enjoying it more than he is, and he'll definitely thank you for your hard work~

"My hair is the silkiest you've ever felt, am I right? I'll show you all the products I use to achieve this flawless perfection! Make sure you appreciate every strand, okay~?"

Beel

Initially confused when you strolled up with a brush, but he's going to be sitting for a while since he's eating, so it’s fine.

But never did he think having his hair brushed by someone else would be so amazing.... Like, it took him a little while to get into it, but when you really start working out the little tangles, he's hooked.

Beel doesn't do anything special to keep up his appearance. He has to be reminded to get a haircut sometimes, so things like this are beyond him. But its become a ritual for him to ask you to brush his hair in the morning.

LOVES it. This big ol teddy bear rests his cheek against your thigh the whole time, and you swear you can hear some kind of rumbling sound coming from him-

"Do you mind doing this before my Fangol games? Um.... It's like a good luck charm for me, I think. It makes me think of you, and I feel like I can win no matter what."

Belphie

This is all Belphie, the epitome of laziness, has ever wanted.

He loves anything you do to his hair, whether that's brushing or combing it, washing or drying it, patting it or running your fingers through...

It's like it's his weakness, and almost always has him nodding off. Is it really okay for the youngest to be spoiled so much? You're gonna make him even more rotten than he is.

Though like Mammon, he also chases you down with a hairbrush in hand, so it's not like you have much of a choice.

"My hair is soft, isn't it? It's all thanks to you brushing it everyday. I feel like I can sleep much better lately because of you. Though... that might be because that tangle in the back is gone."

2K notes · View notes

quanticowrites · 3 years ago

Text

Insecurity (Gibbs x Reader)

•• Can you believe when I looked at the Gibbs fic's on my masterlist that my last one was back in 2020?? Time flies! Anyway, this one's for an anon who asked for the reader to be insecure about not having red hair! Sorry it took so long, but I kept your ask because I knew I'd eventually get to it! This is getting long now, please enjoy! ••

Dating as federal agents was complicated, whether you were both on the force or dating someone outside the agency. In your case, you were dating the most infamous agent at NCIS to date. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. It’s been about six months since that first date at the diner. You didn’t go out in the field often, so you were made the honorary desk jockey of the team. That was fine with you. You’d rather dig through piles of paperwork constantly than physically chase down a suspect. With constant access to case files, it allowed you to look up Gibbs. You often wondered why he decided to date you. It’s not like you had special assassin training or were good with knives. There was also the fact that you weren’t a redhead like almost all of his previous relationships on file seemed to have been. He had a type, that was obvious, so why you? He had a family before. Why would he want you when he’d already given all the love he could give? You sighed, you needed to find out if this relationship was purely out of pity for your loneliness. You’ll confront him when he gets back from the current case in Iraq. It’s something you couldn’t do over video-com.

Once the case was wrapped up and everyone got the all-clear to head home, you and Gibbs were the only two to go to the elevator. Everyone else went to the stairs. They must have sensed something. The doors closed and it was two floors of awkward silence before you found yourself reaching in front of Gibbs to pull his most famous move, Shut down the elevator. Suddenly that burst of boldness was gone, and you stood there, just looking at him. Your mouth was dry and your lips chapped. He blinked.

“Well? You have something to say, say it.” Come on! This was supposed to be your moment of truth. You couldn’t chicken out now. Your days of restless thoughts would be over, no matter what he said.

“I want to know why you decided to date me.” You reached up and pulled at your hair. “I’m not a redhead! I’m not as skilled as you!” You were yelling now. You wondered if anyone that may have been waiting for the elevator could hear you? “Do you pity me?” The way he moved on top of you in the blink of an eye and took your face in his hands, inadvertently pushing you back against the side of the elevator as he pushed a hard kiss against your lips. He pulled back and you had to take a breath.

“I don’t pity you, (Y/n), and I sure as hell don’t give a damn about what color your hair is.” He put his hand over your heart. Could he feel it racing? “I care about the person in there. The one who always puts others first and does whatever it takes to get the job done.” He went and turned the elevator back on. He put his arm around your shoulder as you exited the elevator into the lobby. You looked toward the stairwell and smiled seeing that McGee, Bishop, and Tony had stayed to see what happened. You gave them a thumbs up and they all returned it to you with smiles. You leaned your head against his shoulder before exiting the building.

“Thank you, Jethro.” Calling him by his middle name to show him you were serious. “For finding your way to reassure me.” He brought a kiss down onto the top of your head.

“Your welcome, Blondie.” You laughed. Maybe you’d dye your hair red just to mess with him one day

Tag list: @stanathanxoox , @nikkiwierden , @malindacath , @havlindzk , @countrygal17a , @memyselfandmaddox , @octobersmog , @mizzezm , @diaryofafan17 , @emmitheacefangirl , @littlepersonbigworld , @a-sad-excuse-of-everything, @iwritetoavoidmyproblems , @specialagentlokitty , @thecruelarts, @f4nboi , @kittenlittle24 , @tanyastark-wilson, @violet-amxthyst , @averyhotchner , @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy

#ncis #ncis x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #gibbs x reader #gibbs imagine

157 notes · View notes