#also then i may dye the whole head gray after i get my first few streaks 2 commit 2 the bit.

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

i can't wait 2 start graying but i'm 2 stubborn 2 just dye my hair gray right now like what am i supposed 2 be looking forward 2?? i am not opening the present(s) early.... not yet.

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Here is the first one

Second :D

And last..he's looking at you 👀💦

ALRIGHT you know WHAT—

There’s…a lot going on here. So much so, that I have decided to create

CONTEXT

for these three images that is

COMPLETELY FAKE

because I think it’ll be a fun writing exercise. kind of a cringe move on my part, but consider: i have fun making up ridiculous lies about characters who don’t exist in real life.

(which is how I’m treating these, by the way. yes, they are pictures of kaneko nobuaki, but for my purposes, they are NOT actually him. they are distinct fictional characters who are not real.)

so if you’re feeling adventurous skip below the cut and watch me break it down:

Image 1: Accidental “Date” Makes Cousin’s Wedding Less Terrible Than Originally Expected

The year is 1999. Your cousin (who you are not particularly close to) is getting married…on a cruise ship. Your mother insists you attend. You insist upon spending 90% of your time sipping margaritas on the deck and flipping through the latest issue of Marie Claire while trying desperately not to think about the fact that you are surrounded by nothing but open ocean.

One of the (very drunk) bridesmaids tries to toss you a beach ball because you have been, and I quote: like, a total bummer this whole time. She misses. It hits the person next to you in the face. Great. Awesome. You think: well now who’s being, like, a total bummer?

Luckily the person who got hit in the face laughs the entire thing off. He says your friends seem…’lively.’ You say that’s pretty rich coming from a guy who looks like a rejected member of ‘The Clash.’ He insists that he left them, not the other way around.

You slip into conversation. You tell him that you’re here for a wedding. He offers his condolences. You accept them. He says he actually likes weddings—something about two people making a life-changing commitment speaks to him on a soul-level. That and the open bar, of course.

You suggest he crash the wedding. He says he’s not sure if he can make it—there’s a shuffleboard tournament that evening that he would just hate to miss, plus the latest issue of Soap Opera Digest is waiting on his bedside table just begging to be opened. You say that’s perfectly understandable, but, if he suddenly finds himself caught up on the latest All My Children gossip, he can meet you back here at four.

Surprise, surprise: he shows up. He’s wearing the same shirt he was before, but buttoned up this time—and with one of the most hideous neckties you’ve ever seen, which he apparently borrowed from the kind old man next door. Instead of complimenting his attire (because it is truly un-compliment-able), you take the opportunity to mention that this is a Titanic-themed wedding. He says that having a Titanic-themed wedding on a cruise ship is “kind of fucked up” and you solemnly agree.

Everyone is very surprised and pleased to see that you’ve brought a date—even the bride, who tells you that you’re “just like Jack and Rose.” You agree, much to her delight…until you say that, if the ship goes down, you also won’t share the door and let him freeze to death in the icy water. He insists he’d be the guy who jumps off the ship and hits his leg on the propellor—that’s his favorite part of the whole movie, and it’d be an honor to re-enact the scene.

The wedding is…a wedding. Vows, toasts, pictures—and you’re sipping champagne through the entire thing. The two of you spend the evening getting completely wasted and telling everyone a different story about just who your ‘mystery date’ is. Highlights include: the captain’s unruly son whose been tasked with following in his father’s sea-faring footsteps; professional cave-diver who discovered a new species of slug and is spending his reward money on a nice vacation; head of marketing who gives all those clever names to the nail polishes at OPI; the guy who folds everyone’s towels into animal shapes.

You end up where you started: on neighboring lounge chairs, with a margarita, and talking to this stranger who has recently crossed into “acquaintance” territory. You chat about how “My Heart Will Go On” is actually a good song, and he promises not to tell anyone that you said that. He also says that this is the best Titanic-themed cruise ship wedding he’s ever been to, and he can’t wait until somebody decides to do Jaws.

Eventually, you both stagger back to your rooms with promises of seeing each other at breakfast. Unfortunately, you have the worst hangover of your life the next morning and even the thought of ‘breakfast’ makes you want to roll over and die, so you don’t manage to stumble out of bed until it’s time to disembark.

You see him at port, and you each offer each other a little wave before going your separate ways. Six weeks later, you get a Polaroid of the two of you together, sitting at the bar and laughing at something that must have been very, very hilarious.

You don’t remember most of what happened that night, but you remember it was not as terrible as it could have been.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 2: Extremely Weird Guy On The Street Has You Questioning Your Sanity

It’s 6:00 in the morning—a truly terrible time to be awake, but a necessary evil. Your flight leaves at 10, and since it’s an international thing, you want to make sure you get there in plenty of time to get to your gate (and maybe sample all the fancy perfumes you can’t afford at one of those high-end stores that are always in airports.)

The streets are mostly empty, save for a few random pedestrians and a handful of passed-out salarymen snoozing on the curb. The sky a rainy gray-blue as the sun tries to rise behind the springtime cloud cover—it’s no doubt going to be another dismal day, as is common during this time of year. Hopefully there’s not too much turbulence on your flight…

You stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the little walking man signal to show up on the light across the way. You’re soon joined by another person—a man in a soft-looking jacket who supplies you with a small “good morning” bob of his head. You respond in kind, throwing in a small smile for good measure. It’s nice that he too understands that it’s entirely too early to be having any kind of conversation, even if it is just a simple verbal greeting between strangers on a street corner.

The light changes, and you both begin your trek across the street. Your fellow walker is faster than you—or, more likely, has longer legs and, ergo, a longer stride than your own—and is nearly halfway across by the time you get your wheeled suitcase over the curb. He seems decent enough. You hope he’s going somewhere nice.

It’s then that you make the mistake of looking up. It would have been much better if you had just continued watching the white painted lines on the road and thinking about how it reminds you of piano keys—and how you hated the six months of piano lessons your parents forced you to take in the first grade.

But no. You noticed someone walking towards you, and you just had to look up.

The first thing you notice is a rainbow tie-dye shirt. The second thing you notice is that the rainbow tie-dye shirt is on a very cheerful looking gentleman, who seemed to be bobbing his head in time with a song only he could hear.

The third thing you notice—and this one’s the real kicker—is the large blue-and-green reptile sitting on his shoulder. It’s bulging eyes are hooded in pleasure as it’s red-pink tongue darts out to eat the green something—maybe a grape or a small piece of melon?—from the rainbow tie-dye man’s hand. It is nothing short of a spectacle, honestly, and you feel a piece of your sanity evaporate.

The rainbow tie-dye man continues on, uncaring of your confused stare at his strange pet. You even turn around to make sure that you weren’t somehow hallucinating, and sure enough, there is definitely some kind of creature draped over this stranger’s shoulder. It’s tail even sways in time with the man’s steps, which is both cute and confusing.

Because it would not do to stand in the middle of the street all day, considering the existence of rainbow tie-dye man and his exotic pet, you do the only thing you can do: turn back around and continue on your journey. You need a coffee. Maybe with an extra shot of espresso, after witnessing whatever the hell that was. Something to set you right again.

“Was that…?”

The other man—the soft-coat long-stride one—is speaking low enough as to not draw attention, but loud enough for you to hear as you make your way towards the sidewalk. His expression reads ‘concerned, but trying not to show it’ which you suppose is the polite and mature way of handling the situation.

“…an iguana? Yeah,” you answer him, “I saw it too.”

The man’s brow furrows. His mouth puckers into a small frown as he considers…well, something.

“…Okay, then,” he concludes, shrugging his shoulders, “Hell of a way to start the day.”

“Yeah.”

And you both continue on your way. He turns left at the next intersection, you turn right—but even though your paths may now be different, you will forever share an unbreakable bond over the fantastical sight you’ve witnessed today.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 3: Near Death Experience At Open Mic Night

You are not a poet.

Well, not professionally, anyways. You’ve been known to dabble in the written word, often scribbling little snippets of rhyme in a notebook over your lunch break or tapping a verse or two into the notes app on your phone. It a kind of outlet, you suppose—a way to keep the creative energy that bubbles inside of you from boiling over.

It’s also worth mentioning that you are not a confident public speaker. Not since that unfortunate incident in the third grade where you forgot the single line you had in the school play and ran off stage, tears streaming down your face and—actually, no, you’re not going to think about that right now. Or ever again, hopefully.

So when your (tipsy) coworkers decide that it’s a good idea to push you onto the stage at the local dive bar’s open mic night—while shouting at you to “read the one about the night-blooming jasmine”—you freeze up. There are at least seven strangers staring at you, expectation rising with every passing second of your inaction. It’s nerve-wracking in the way that the third-grade incident was not, and you gulp against the nervousness that rises in your throat.

Shaking hands scroll frantically through your phone, looking for the requested poem—and after a few agonizing moments, you manage to find it. Your voice cracks rather embarrassingly as you begin to read, trying your damndest to get the words out right so you can slink back to the bar and drown the rest of the night in Chardonnay.

Everything is going well—or, at least, as well as can be expected—until you notice that the room is suddenly feeling very hot. That’s the last coherent thought you have before the room goes dark and everything falls silent.

Next thing you know, you’re staring at the ceiling. A man who you do not know is leaning over you, and his mouth is moving—oh, he’s probably trying to say something to you, but it’s very difficult to tell what he’s saying over the throbbing pain in the back of your head.

You ask him if you’re dead. It’s a possibility after all, that you’ve somehow died and landed yourself in some kind of special public-speaking hell. That’s what this feels like, anyways.

The man says no, you are not dead. You say ‘dammit’ in response. He tries to hold back laughter, offering to help you up by extending his hand. You take it and—ouch, ugh, ew, going from laying to standing is not a fun experience.

You thank him (albeit awkwardly) for helping you up, and he insists that ‘it’s cool.’ Passing out in front of an audience is not even remotely cool, but you nod and thank him again, anyways.

Before you’re able to converse with the helpful stranger any further, your coworkers have come to collect you. You are whisked away by someone from accounting, who offers to escort you home—an offer you gladly accept, very excited to leave the site of your failure behind you.

Safe to say, you never go back to that particular bar again.

[ivory-sunflower]

Arty Art Things ✨

Hellooo!

I've decided to post some of the arty things I've done either recently or in the last few years, well the pieces I'm somewhat proud of at least. All my posts tend to be a lot more wordy than they need to be but hey it's what I do here!

Conchúr White

Anyone one who's been on this blog for a bit will have probably have seen me talk about this lovely Irish fella. The pencil drawing is actually a year old as of yesterday, I only know that because screenshots of me flipping out about Conchúr following me on twitter popped up in my memories yesterday. I think I'd sent it to him at about 3 in the morning (I was not in a good head space at that point in time), so probably not what he was expecting to see when he opened his phone in the morning aha

The biro version is much more recent: I got bored while sat at my desk and doing research about university courses, saw a biro, saw my old drawing of Conchúr, had an idea. I revisited my GCSE art techniques and here we are. Again, I put this up on Twitter and now (at the the time I'm writing this) when you google "Conchúr White" it's the third top image of him which is a bit mad really. I think I spent all of about 20 minutes on Conchúr but another 45 minutes on the words behind him. The words are the names of the songs on his EP 'Bikini Crops', he doesn't just really love the idea of Channing Tatum driving him around at night in a daisy print bikini... Well maybe he does but what he does in his spare time is none of my business...

TechDif

So I mentioned that the pencil drawing of Conchúr came from a rough patch in my mental health and this one is no different! In fact this one came from an even worse circumstance so we love to see it. I had a bad, bad time in July and this started as a way of distracting myself from what was going on in my head. Without it, I can't honestly say I'd still be here so even if the final product of this had been a terrible mess I would still love it for keeping me alive. However, it did not turn out to be a terrible mess!

Now that the origin of this is out the way, where do I start with TechDif? Unlike Conchúr, I haven't really talked about them on here (unless you count one brief post about Citation Needed) before so I guess I'll do it here. The Technical Difficulties are a wonderful group of 4 British fellas who have had their fair share of fun online and even before. They did a radio show at university together, which went on to become their Reverse Trivia Podcast, later moving on to a panel show called 'Citation Needed': and a game called 'Two of These People Are Lying'. All of which I would thoroughly reccomend, they're one of my go to things when I'm having a rough time. All 4 of them are excellent! Tom Scott (red top, blue jeans on the picture) has his own YouTube channel which does content aside from TechDif. If you're quite nerdy and like science, linguistics, computers, or any number of other things you may enjoy Tom's channel. He is probably best described as "The Moderator" of the group, much like a tired teacher he tries desperately to keep everyone on track with what they're meant to be doing, but usually it does not end well for him. Then we have Matt Gray (space top, holding an ice cream) who also has a channel away from TechDif stuff, he does techy electronic things and has a series called 'Will it Soft Serve?' where he puts all kinds of strange things through a soft serve machine. Matt brings a very specific energy to TechDif and I can't fully describe what that vibe is but I love it. Matt and Tom also share a YouTube channel where TOTPAL is posted and they had a series called 'The Park Bench'. Moving on to everybody's favourite Gary Brannan: Gary Brannan (SATIRE hoodie, glasses) and can I just say, what a fella he is! He's just excellent! He is the one that will argue and rip into Tom the most (not in a malicious way) and hilarity ensues. There are some episodes where he is absolutely on it, getting all the points and others where he very clearly has no idea and that's where some of his funniest quotes come from. Given how badly I was doing at the time I made this, his response to it on Twitter was so so lovely. I specifically remember one tweet where he said I'd made him happy and although it was probably a flippant comment, it just made feel alright for a bit. Yeah I might be feeling awful right now, but I've made someone else happy so that's a nice feeling. Then last but certainly not least, we have Chris Joel (buffalo check shirt, beard)! I would be lying if I said he isn’t my favourite... His sense of humor is the one I vibe with most, he can get rather dramatic in parts and can chat bollocks like a champion. He has absolutely no online presence away from TechDif and, like Rens from Temples, I fully believe he’s a cryptid and lives off in a tree somewhere. 

The picture took me about 4 days to complete, well 4 nights because I did most of it between the hours of 12 a.m. and 7a.m. - I remember watching the sun come through my window each morning. It’s made up of lots of little pieces, all cut out and stuck on; even the sky and hills are made of separate pieces of paper. Nothing was actually drawn on the piece of paper it’s all stuck on, it’s not how I usually do things but if I messed up one little but I could just redraw it rather than ruining the whole thing. The most tedious parts to make were Chris’ shirt because I had to draw each square individually and then join the as well, and cutting out the ban-hammer in the bottom right was surprisingly hard. Every single detail of the picture is a reference to the podcast/shows, I still have the plan sketch and reference list knocking about somewhere. I listened to a lot of true crime videos while making it to the point that certain parts remind me of different cases: the brandy now reminds me of Peter Tobin, and the big spiral thing reminds me of Tim McLean (very harrowing case) - sorry that fact is a bit morbid but interesting nonetheless. 

I did post this for a little bit back in July, but I received some rather awful messages so I took it down. Generally, Tom Scott/TechDif fans are lovely but there’s been a few that have taken a disliking to me for some reason so I’m hoping they don’t resurface again. I’m in a better head space now though, so even if they do I’m more equipped to deal with it this time.

Hozier

This was a quick sketch I did in April, I was getting bored with lockdown and decided to summon the bog man himself. There’s not really much more backstory than that, no poor mental health story, no fun twitter story - he’s just here. He’s vibing. I will say I’m particularly proud of his nose, I just think it’s one of the best noses I’ve ever drawn. His hand is okay, but I think that the hands on my Conchúr drawings are better. So there is the Hozi-Boi...

The Corpse Bry

I’ve talked about Bry on here before as well, I love him, he’s excellent, top lad. He is a living Tim Burton character, he’s 6′6, very skinny, and his legs are longer than my will to live. I was watching ‘The Corpse Bride’ a few weeks ago and suddenly had an idea and so ‘The Corpse Bry’ came to be. I gave him a little panda friend because the panda has always been his animal - he used to wear a panda beanie all the time and his album had a panda on the cover. Again, there’s not really a fun story behind this one, I guess it’s somewhat fun because it’s the first art I made after finishing my psychology exams in October so it was nice to actually have the time to draw.

James Bagshaw

Ginger talking about Temples for the third post in a row? it’s more likely than you think! I did this one last week, I’d had a bit of a wobbly day and had group therapy on Teams in the evening and I just couldn’t concentrate on what was going on and I ended up doodling Mr James E. Bagshaw, the glitter crying fraggle man himself. It’s a bare-bones drawing that I could definitely work into more but I’m happy with it as it is to be honest. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit and add the individual bits of fringe to his jacket, just thinking about doing that makes me tired. Maybe I’ll get around to drawing the whole band at some point...

Alice in “Wonderland”

This one is from about 5(?) years ago, it’s not my typical style and was a “study” based on another artists work (basically i just had to copy this fellas work). I’ll be honest, this one has a sketchy backstory that I won’t go in to because it’s not exactly a nice one, and because of that I also won’t say who the artist is that it’s based on. Despite this, I’m still really proud of this one and I’m so sad that I never got this piece back after I got taken out the class. I’ve considered trying this style again, I’ve even joked about doing another Conchúr drawing in this style as a nod to my progression through GCSE art, eventually leading to Conchúr drawn in ink on music manuscript and stained with neon paint and dyes - it would be quite the project!

So this has been quite a lengthy post so apologies about that but life goes on. Similar to the vinyl post, I’ll probably add to this as and when I make more art. Even if no one is reading these posts, I’m enjoying making them so that’s the main thing. It’s just nice to document things and the feelings that go with them. 💕

~ Love Ginger xx 

29/11/2020

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

linger like a tattoo kiss

chapter two of the peter losing wendy series

*inspired by Taylor Swift’s Folklore*

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Original Character (Liz Walker)

Warnings: mentions of suicide, PLEASE proceed with caution, drinking/partying, smoking, mentions of emotional abuse, does not follow the plot of the canon material

Word Count: 5.4K

Summary: Liz has a run-in with a Kook at a party. JJ, strangely, shows up late.

May 4, 2019

With a headache, Liz awoke, scrunching up her nose at the sound of the rooster out in the chicken coop. The sky was just barely alight with the rising sun, and a chilly morning breeze blew through the screens in the windows. Early May, and summer had still yet to set in. Not a problem to Liz, though. She was always glad to go a few extra weeks without the thick blanket of humidity which began to suffocate the Outer Banks every year by June. Debating whether or not to move, she stared up at the ceiling with tired eyes. There were cracks on the white surface, and a couple brownish water stains from the last tropical storm.

Despite the open windows, John B’s house still smelled stale after a night of debauchery. Empty bags of chips, green glass bottles, and rolling papers littered the rickety dining table. After the party at the Boneyard, the Pogues had migrated back to the Chateau and continued into the darkest hours of the night. Judging from the orangey hue of the sky, they couldn’t have gone to bed more than a couple hours prior. Of course, Kie and Pope had gone back to the Carrera residence, claiming to want to sleep in a ‘real’ bed. Kie could never stand the uncomfortable springs sticking out of the pullout couch mattress, or the mattress in the spare bedroom.

JJ usually got the spare, but both he and Liz had ended up sprawled out on the pullout instead. She would have worried about John B suspecting something fishy going on, but she could hear his faint snores coming from the direction of his bedroom. Not that he would’ve ever raised an eyebrow at seeing them share a bed. Liz was just a textbook worrywart. Besides, the living room was empty save for the two of them after everyone else had gone to bed, when they’d stayed up talking and sharing a final blunt to take the edge off and kissing softly. No; they’d had the whole world to themselves, it had seemed, in the living room of the Chateau in the wee hours of the new spring day. Though she felt silly, Liz couldn’t help letting a small smirk ghost over her lips at the memory of only hours earlier.

After a moment more indecision, she found herself doing her best to rise from the bed without waking JJ. It took more than a few seconds to pluck his arm from where it was draped over her stomach. Drool leaked from the corner of his mouth where his face was smashed up against the pillow. Liz’s smile widened just a bit at the sight. Noticing the goosebumps which rose on her arms at the lack of JJ’s body heat, she grabbed the crumpled gray cardigan from under the pullout mattress. She’d noticed it under there the night before as JJ was sucking on her neck.

Grimacing at the light from the back windows, Liz went up to the kitchen sink and got herself a glass of tap water. There was simply no way she was getting back to sleep with the hangover throbbing behind her eyes. But she didn’t particularly mind with such a beautiful sunrise. She had seen it so many times over the course of her life, on daybreak fishing trips and in the aftermath of long nights, but it always felt like the first time. Through the windows above the sink, she could see the reflection of the warmly painted sky against the water in the marsh. It glistened in small, glowing pearls on the dewy blades of tall grass in John B’s backyard.

As she was setting the emptied glass down in the sink, she felt a pair of arms snake around her waist. She startled, but relaxed into JJ’s touch after a moment. He had barely made any noise at all while padding over to her in his socked feet.

“Fuck, JJ!” she exclaimed quietly, letting out an anxious, breathy chuckle. “Announce yourself, sunshine.”

Not quite yet awake, JJ leaned against her. His head was on her shoulder, eyes closed as he spoke in drowsy slurs.

“Jesus, what time is it?” he asked.

“My name’s Liz, not Jesus. But, hey, we’ve only known each other since we were seven, after all,” she quipped, teasing.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, eager to lay back down. The flashes across his memory of all the alcohol he’d downed the night before made him a little nauseous. “Gimme a break, Lizzie.”

She snickered, but relented, looking over at the clock on the microwave. “Half past five.”

He groaned in response, shaking his head a bit. “I have to leave for work in like twenty minutes.”

“Shit. Why?”

“Early bird breakfast,” he grumbled.

“That sucks ass,” Liz said. “There’s some aspirin left in the medicine cabinet, I think. If you want to take some before you leave.”

He hummed in acknowledgement. The tank top Liz wore slipped down over her right arm just a bit. JJ pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of her shoulder, on which her small, black and white tattoo of a betta fish peeked out from the neckline of the cardigan. She’d gotten it the day after turning sixteen, with a forged signature on the parental release form. It was the only tattoo she had. Since JJ had begun kissing her, it had become one of his favorite spots. Hers, too. The feather-light pressure of his lips reminded her of the night before, when she’d touched him just as gingerly.

.   .   .

Rarely did Liz arrive at a party before JJ. He was usually the first to run down the beach, leading the way as he helped carry the keg. As he shouted in excitement, she could normally only manage a nervous half-grimace. But JJ was still nowhere to be found fifteen minutes after they’d finished setting up shop. Even the bonfire was lit. The past few days had been dry, and Liz hadn’t encountered too much trouble getting the logs to ignite. She was a former girl scout, and had slowly become the honorary firestarter of the group. She stood next to her creation, a red solo cup in her hand. John B had gone all out, supplying not just a keg but also the materials for mixed drinks. Liz was nursing a vodka-cranberry, taking slow, small sips. She was being careful to pace herself after the sloppy table dance she’d performed a few weeks back.

The late afternoon had just begun bleeding into evening, and the sky had darkened to a strange mixture of pinks and blues. A chilly breeze blew past her as the sun disappeared behind the horizon, and she took a couple more steps towards the heat of the bonfire. Still, she kept a careful distance from the main crowd. Kie had gotten into a conversation with Pope about use of fracking on the mainland as they sat next to each other in the circle around the fire. Liz could see how completely engrossed Pope was in Kie’s words, and if JJ had been there, she would have faked a gag at how cute they were. John B and Sarah, too, were lost in their own world, sharing flirty touches and lingering looks as they manned the keg. Though it had been months since the two had started dating, Liz still wasn’t sure how she felt about Sarah. The ice had melted between the Kook princess and the rest of the Pogues, but Liz just couldn’t bring herself to feel comfortable. Not around a girl who wore necklaces made of solid gold and got her highlights professionally done. The most Liz could afford was a seven-dollar box of dye, but years of practice had served her well. She’d started dying her auburn hair a fiery shade of copper during freshman year, just after her father died, and never looked back.

While she’d been getting ready for the party, she’d decided to channel Halloween, even though it was May. John B and Pope had watched curiously as she donned her black lipstick and smudged eyeliner. Sarah had extended the offer for Liz to come and get ready with her and Kie. But Liz brushed it off. Most of her makeup was at John B’s house, anyway, considering how often she stayed there. Why bring it all the way to the Figure Eight? Liz couldn’t imagine stepping into Sarah Cameron’s room, seeing the closet filled to the brim with designer dresses; velvet and silk and tulle. Especially not when the best Liz could do for a party outfit was an ancient Jimi Hendrix t-shirt and a semi-clean polka dot skirt.

Before she could spiral deeper into the bitter storm in her mind, Liz was pulled from her reverie when someone bumped hard into her shoulder. Liz barely registered what had happened until she felt the lukewarm drink spill down the front of her shirt. The gray fabric on which Jimi Hendrix’s face was printed was splashed right down the front with a deep, pinkish-red stain. Furrowing her brows, Liz looked up to see the Kook girl who had walked into her retreating, barely casting Liz a glance. The girl, who Liz recognized eventually as being called Ally, was struggling to walk on her high heels in the sand, while also typing away on her brand new phone, adorned with a sequined case. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. Maybe it didn’t matter that Ally hadn’t said a word, hadn’t looked Liz’s way, hadn’t apologized. But Liz looked around and found almost no one had seen what happened. John B and Sarah were all the way across the beach, and Liz could see Pope and Kie in a lively debate. JJ had still yet to arrive, it seemed. The t-shirt had been Liz’s father’s, vintage from his youth. And Liz knew it was unlikely such a stain would come out. She saw a flash of red and gripped the plastic cup so hard in her hand that it crumpled.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, as her stomach swirled with nerves and her hands began to shake. She knew she should have just let it go, as she always did. The idea of starting something with a Kook had her heart in her throat. But it was her father’s shirt. Sometimes, she thought she could still smell him when she wore it.

Ally didn’t turn around until Liz called out to her a couple more times. She spun around slowly on her heel, just barely looking up from her phone. Confusion painted her face as she realized who was addressing her. “Yeah?”

“Do you see what you just did to my shirt?” Liz asked, gesturing down at herself, voice raised over the blaring music and the chatter of fellow partygoers. A few people at the edges of the bonfire circle, where Ally had been headed, began to look up at the commotion.

Ally stared blankly at Liz’s shirt for a moment and then shrugged in disinterest. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

Scoffing, Liz let an angry, sardonic smirk cross her face. “Damn, someone should give you an Oscar for that acting.”

“What’s your problem?” Ally asked, finally giving Liz her full attention as her face twisted in disgust.

“My problem is my shirt is ruined,” Liz continued, not knowing exactly what she wanted to get out of the exchange. She only knew that she was pissed, and she hadn’t felt quite so pissed in a long time. It confused her, but the few sips of vodka she’d downed were apparently making her more courageous already.

Ally looked at Liz’s shirt for another moment. “I don’t know. I’d say I did you a favor.”

Liz narrowed her eyes at Ally, who appeared to think the exchange was over and began turning away again. But before she could disappear into the small crowd of onlookers which had formed, Liz grabbed the drink from Ally’s left hand and tossed the mixture onto the girl’s white crop top and mini skirt set. The color was even more vivid against such a light fabric, and it looked like a scene out of a horror movie. A chorus of cliché gasps erupted from the voyeurs standing around, and Pope and Kie had finally gotten wind of the situation. They had yet to intervene, standing with hesitation. It wasn’t like Liz to start fights. Usually, she was the one who ended them. Pope always called her the dependent variable, but she was certainly deviating from the norm tonight.

“Pogue bitch!” Ally shrieked, looking down at her ruined outfit.

Liz only smirked, feigning innocence and shrugging in a mock imitation. She couldn’t help but feel instant satisfaction. “You could always buy new, right?”

Ally’s face grew red with anger at the sound of Liz’s aloof tone. “This was two hundred dollars in New York, you cunt!”

“Tragic,” Liz replied coolly. “You poor baby.”

Ally took a couple threatening steps forward and Liz let out a bark of laughter. She threw the cups in her hands to the side (which she would be picking up as soon as she could, knowing how upset Kie would be if she didn’t). She advanced to Ally and met her eyes. Without the heels, Ally would have been significantly shorter than Liz. With them, she was almost as tall. But it didn’t matter. Liz stared her down like she was a bug about to be squashed.

“You gonna fight me, princess?” Liz asked huskily, feeling the lively fire in her stomach rising in her throat. Her smirk was ever-present, joyless. “Do it. Fight the Pogue cunt. See how that works out for you.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Ally said. She wasn’t quite scared, only surprised. Her brow was crinkled analytically. All this over a t-shirt.

“Oh, am I?” Liz asked, eyes wide in askance and mocking.

“Yeah. Just like your daddy,” Ally replied viciously, letting a smugness come over her face. She had recognized Liz only a few moments prior. On such a small island, word of tragedy got around. Most everyone knew about the girl whose father was found dangling from a beam in the attic. The audience made a sound of shock and awe.

Feeling her stomach do another flip, Liz clenched her hands into tight fists at her sides. Her nails began to cut into her palms. Just as she was launching herself forward, ready to hit someone for the first time in many years, she felt herself being pulled clumsily away by the shoulders and the waist. She struggled in the hold for only a moment, before she saw Ally retreating back to her friends and heard Kie yelling in her ear to calm the hell down. Sarah and John B were running over, the entire beach now aware something was going on.

“Let me go, Pope! I’m fine!” Liz yelled, tearing his arms from her sides and feeling freer at the release. Even though it was Pope, she still couldn’t help the panic which bubbled up within her from being restrained.

“What the hell was that?” John B asked as he came over, Sarah trailing behind.

“Why do you care? Why don’t you go fuck your girlfriend?” Liz snapped coldly.

A pit of regret immediately sank in her stomach. Her entire body was flushed and adrenaline pulsed through her. Even if John B was pretty much her brother, she couldn’t help but let all her negative feelings about everyone mix into an indecipherable rage. Not her father’s shirt. Not some lousy Kook calling her father crazy. She simply couldn’t handle it. Sure, she knew people whispered comments to each other when she walked down the street. She knew the Kooks talked shit about her behind her back. But to her face was something else entirely.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John B said, taken aback by the outburst.

“Just forget it, alright?” Liz sighed, breathing harshly. “I’m sorry...I’m just...my fucking shirt!”

Kie tilted her head at Liz in confusion, bringing a gentle hand to her shoulder. “Why-“

Liz shrugged her off. “I said forget it! Can someone please just get me a new drink?!”

Recoiling, Kie stepped away and plucked the cups from where Liz had tossed them in the sand. Liz wanted so badly to make a full apology. She really did. And she would, once they got back to the Chateau. But she felt almost incapable at the moment, stewing with such uncharacteristic rage.

Silence and doubtful looks were exchanged, but eventually Sarah volunteered to go get Liz the drink and John B followed, tossing concerned glances over his shoulder at Liz as they went. She thanked them quietly, embarrassed, but then yelled after them, requesting they keep the cranberry juice to a minimum. Not much more than a chaser.

“Are you sure-” Pope began, but he stopped immediately when Liz locked eyes with him. She meant business. No more fun and games.

“Not tonight, okay, Pope?” she asked, a pleading, tired crack in her voice. It made Pope want to say more, but Liz cut him off again with another exclamation as she began walking away. “Where the fuck is JJ?!”

.   .   .

Down the beach from the party, Liz could barely see the orange glow of the fire past the crowd. She was still nursing her vodka-cranberry, a bit buzzed but not nearly enough to forget what had happened. Her eyes were burning with tears, but whenever she felt herself truly welling up, she would stop it. She’d sniff and look up at the sky until her eyes were dry. It was clear, and she could see the swirl of the stars so vividly against the pitch-black sky. Humming a Nirvana song under her breath, she sat with her arms on her knees, one hand clasped around the opposite wrist. The drink on her shirt had long since dried, but she was still chilly in the ocean wind. She’d thought about going back to the Chateau, but decided she didn’t have the energy to make the walk alone. Instead, she’d gone a good distance down the shore, and sat a few inches up from where the tide was coming in. The moon shone silver on the waves, and the sight of it almost made her feel better. But it didn’t.

She was only sad and tipsy. In her solitude, her mind wandered to her mother and father. To her siblings. She wondered what her mother was doing, probably already asleep. A bottle of Jack somewhere near the bed. It made Liz feel guilty for getting buzzed, but she only downed more of the drink in an effort to get the feeling to disappear. Her sisters, too, she wondered about. They didn’t call much, and she didn’t blame them. The oldest two were off at college on the mainland, living separate lives with their scholarships. The other, Nicole, checked in even less reilably. Last Liz heard, she was somewhere in New Mexico finding herself. And Liz was where she had always been, spending her nights at home cleaning up after her mother, sitting through tearful diatribes about what a saint her father had been. Biting her tongue through her mother’s lies. She was glad the Chateau had become the place to rest her head since her father’s death. Had she been forced to stay at home every night, she imagined she would have run off long ago.

JJ strode up to her with his hands in his pockets, hat backwards on his head as usual. He sat down next to her without a word, carrying his own cup. Liz didn’t startle at his presence. Instead, she only breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure exactly what time it was, but he was more than late.

“Contemplating the mysteries of the universe?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

She chuckled humorlessly, clearing her throat and sniffing. “Not quite. Just thinking about Kurt Cobain.”

“Well, no wonder you’re down here all angsty and alone, hot stuff,” he teased, but when he spoke again his voice was more solemn. “JB said you got in a fight with a Kook.”

“He’s a drama queen. I didn’t fight her,” Liz said, staring out at the ocean still. The breeze was cold but welcome, clarifying, and she took in a deep breath through her nose. “Ally spilled her drink on me. And then she said some shit about my dad...it was nothing.”

“Sure doesn’t look like nothing,” JJ said, eyeing the stain across Jimi Hendrix’s face in the dimness.

She snorted a laugh, looking down at herself. “Maybe not. But I was going for a Patrick Bateman thing tonight, anyway.”

JJ sighed, licking at his lips. He debated arguing, maybe even getting fired up enough to go find some random Kook in retaliation. But he didn’t. He knew how she hated when he fought. Instead, he only took off his hat, pulled his sweatshirt over his head and went to hand it to her.

“You’re cold,” he said insistently, watching her shiver in the nighttime wind. She still hadn’t looked over at him, only staring out blankly at the waves. “And your shirt looks like you just went all Mrs. Crain on someone.”

After a long moment, she nodded, taking a final sip of her drink and then placing the cup down on the sand beside her. She still didn’t look over at him as she put it on. It warmed her up instantly.  The smell of JJ, Old Spice and weed and smoke, mixed with the ocean breeze. The wind blew past her again, the tips of her red hair just brushing her shoulders. She would have to cut it again soon. Since she was little, she could never handle her hair getting longer than her collarbones. It was just too much effort.

With JJ’s sweatshirt on, she wasn’t nearly as freezing.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, red,” he replied easily, taking another sip of his drink.

“Where’ve you been?” she asked quietly, trying her best not to sound needy. “We got here, like, three hours ago.”

“Oh, you know. Just robbing a bank or two,” he quipped.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. Her face fell, though, when she finally ventured a full glance at him. In the moonlight and the distant glow of the bonfire, she could see the cut on his cheek which was still oozing blood.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, placing gingerly fingers on his jaw so he would face her. But his eyes didn’t quite meet hers.

“I’m fine, Lizzie,” he muttered, swatting her hand away.

“Who did that to you?” she asked softly, tilting her head at him.

JJ shrugged. “Just ran into Rafe on the way over. I would’ve called, but I figured I should clean up a little so you wouldn’t freak out when you saw me. I guess that was a waste.”

She shook her head a little. “That motherfucker.”

“Seriously, it’s fine. You should see the other guy,” JJ continued, smirking though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Liz breathed out a sigh and thought about asking more, but didn’t. Instead, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on the apple of his cheek, the skin around the cut already bruising a deep purple. Her black lipstick had long since been wiped off, after her scuffle with Ally. Before JJ had arrived, she’d used the inside of her shirt to rub furiously at her face. Her lips were sore and pinkish, but soft against JJ’s skin.

Fighting to keep the shine of tears from his blue eyes, JJ let a small giggle slip. If his father’s fist had been a scream, her kiss was a whisper. It was so gentle he could barely contain himself, his heart skipping a beat. “Feels better already.”

“Does it?” she asked, pulling away with a tiny smile.

He hummed in confirmation. Tossing a glance over his shoulder at the party, he shifted closer to her. The kiss that followed was heated and hungry, both tasting vodka on each other’s tongues. Liz wasn’t surprised JJ was a bit buzzed as well. If she knew John B, he had shoved a drink in JJ’s hand as soon as he saw his eye. JJ was hard to read at times, but alcohol or weed were always surefire ways to cheer him up. And John B always made himself the captain of the party and the guests’ happiness.

Liz was out of breath, but she still smiled against JJ’s  lips. As fishy as his late arrival was, she was just happy to see him. Simple as that. In the weeks since they’d gone from friends to something more, she’d found herself thinking of him always. What he was doing, how he was feeling, whether he was thinking of her too. Usually, he was.

Away from the party, she could kiss him like she meant to, nowhere near the lingering eyes of her friends. No one else in the world knew but the two of them, not even the other Pogues. While the inter-group macking rule had long since been broken, there were other reasons to keep the secret. Sure, everyone had always said they belonged together. But neither of them were ready to let it be known to the world. Truthfully, Liz feared the pit of dread in her stomach, worrying over what would happen to their friendship if whatever they were doing fizzled out, would only grow heavier if everyone knew. JJ’s hand slipped beneath the soft sweatshirt and the stained t-shirt as they kissed, though. And, for the moment, Liz forgot all of her worries.

.   .   .

Despite everything, Liz found herself laughing wildly in the back of Twinkie, the rear doors opened. As she sat on the edge of the car’s floor, the carpeting plush against the backs of her thighs, she watched JJ dancing beneath the streetlight. They’d decided to head back to the Chateau, not particularly in the mood to deal with the Kooks who had ventured over to the other side of the island for the rest of the night. John B had thrown JJ the keys while they were still on the beach, instructing his friend to head to the car while he gathered Sarah, Kie, and Pope up. Liz looked more freezing by the minute, and while Twinkie’s heating wasn’t optimal, it was better than braving the ocean wind. John B was partial to being the designated driver, especially on the night of such a big bash. And, of course, especially when they already had supplies for an after party set out on his kitchen table.

Instead of huddling down in the trunk with Liz though, JJ took advantage of the pleasant, alcohol-induced flush warming his skin. He danced along to the Elvis tune playing from the radio in his cutoff Levis. The keys were in the ignition while the car sat in park, the heat blasting and the engine whirring quietly. Liz had heard the song many times on her father’s records. JJ gyrated his hips, ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to create a sloppy pompadour. He wasn’t very drunk, still coordinated enough to make a real show of it.

“Just take a walk down lonely street, to the heartbreak hotel,” JJ sang along, curling his lip in a decent imitation.

Liz snorted and rolled her eyes at his theatrics, but giggled along. Ever since they were little, JJ was always performing, mostly for her. A strange sense of nostalgia washed over her as he watched him, under the makeshift spotlight in the inky blue midnight. Down below, the party raged on, but neither Liz nor JJ took notice any longer. For the moment, it was just the two of them. Eventually, the song faded away and JJ finished his impression. Liz clapped a few times, slow and almost mocking. Pouting at the lackluster response, JJ sat down heavily next to her and put his head on her shoulder. The laughter would suffice to please him; he’d only done the dance to cheer her up, after all, guilty he hadn’t been at the party earlier, when she’d needed him. But he whined playfully, nonetheless.

“Tough fucking crowd.”

“I’m just kidding, sunshine. You were just like the king, alright?” she said, starting to sober up but still focusing on the tingling of her skin at the drinks and his touch. Slinging an arm around his shoulders, she brought him closer and kissed the crown of his head affectionately.

.   .   .

Rolling to a stop, Liz leaned her bike against the oak tree and ran her hands through her hair. It was greasy, and she decided she needed to shower before her lunchtime shift at the Wreck. It was a double, but she’d be back at John B’s by nine, with plans for a chill movie night. Kie and Pope probably wouldn’t make it, more eager for alone time in recent months. But there would still be the four of them. After they all went to bed, Liz could pad over from the pullout couch in the living room to JJ’s bed, as she’d made a habit of doing in the past few weeks. Though she was always annoyed with such a long shift, especially when the damn Tourons were starting their vacation season, it was good to know there was something to look forward to at the end of the day.

The sun was high in the sky, having risen fully, as she ascended the creaky porch steps into her house. The wind chimes near the door jingled quietly in the slight breeze. Doing her best to shut the rusty screen door silently behind her, Liz jumped when she saw her mother already up and having her coffee at the kitchen table. Usually, she was still out cold.

“Hey, mom,” Liz said, forcing a weak smile on her lips. She slipped her backpack from her shoulders and set it down next to the door. Then, she tugged her shoes off and went towards the kitchen.

“Oh, hi,” her mother muttered, yawning, looking up from her paper and over the reading glasses on her nose at her daughter.

Ruth Walker was lately a quiet woman, but still remained every bit as incisive as she had been before her husband died. She watched as Liz poured herself a mug of black coffee, dressed in her cardigan and one of JJ’s t-shirts. Only her skirt was the same from the night before. Liz had been careful to make sure she left her ruined t-shirt at John B’s. The sight of it might have been enough to make her mother burst into tears. Liz’s hair was back in a low ponytail, and Ruth immediately noticed the dark mark peeking out from the neckline of the t-shirt.

“Guess it was a fun party,” Ruth said, eyebrows raised but voice mostly disinterested.

Liz furrowed her brows at her mother’s tone, taking a sip of the coffee and turning to face her. “Hm?”

“That love bite on your neck,” Ruth explained, staring at the hickey.

Immediately, Liz flushed scarlet. She was glad she had left just after JJ, as the rest of the Pogues were still snoring. Certainly, someone would have noticed. They were usually careful, but as high as she and JJ were, she wasn’t entirely surprised they had gotten a bit carried away. She didn’t have time to stutter out a response before her mother continued.

“Just make sure he’s clean. And please don’t get pregnant,” Ruth said, sighing slightly. “Girls your age know nothing about nothing. We can’t add another mouth to feed into the mix. I don’t need that right now.”

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Liz looked down into her coffee and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I won’t. You know I won’t.”

Shrugging, Ruth went back to her paper. From her spot leaning against the sink, Liz couldn’t quite make out what her mother was reading, but she knew what it was anyway. Especially since her mother held a red pen in her left hand. She was circling real estate listings from the Figure Eight. Houses they could never even dream of living in. Swallowing harshly, Liz tried not to think too hard about what her mother was doing and instead straightened her back, about to head to the bathroom.

“So, mom, I’m gonna shower and then head to work. I’m probably gonna stay at John B’s again tonight. And maybe a few more nights after, since John has-”

“Fine,” Ruth said flippantly, not bothering to listen to her daughter’s rambled reasonings. “Make good choices.”

Ruth didn’t look up from her paper as she spoke. Liz waited a minute for more, then finally made her way towards the small hallway when her mother kept silent.

[starrybethany]

William Nylander: Part 8

Word count: 2092

“And why did the whistle blow now?” I question, snuggling closer to William.

His arms tighten around me by instinct. “Offside.”

I throw my head back and let out a loud groan, which causes him to laugh.

“What?” He asks, fingers brushing my bicep lightly.

“We’ve been watching this game for three hours and I still don’t know what offside is!”

“Babe, I explained it to you ten times in ten different ways, I don’t know how you still don’t understand.”

I grumble, sigh, and return my attention to the game. William and I have been hanging out a lot since we first kissed, which was only a week ago. I find any excuse I can to leave my apartment and it’s stench of alcohol and weed to come over to Willy’s to watch some TV and cuddle and kiss.

The hockey player’s phone buzzes on the couch next to him and he picks it up, texting whoever it is back. I have to refrain from peeking at his phone. He sets it back down on the cushion, clearing his throat.

“Some of the boys and their wives and girlfriends want to come over and hang out, are you okay with that?” He asks. I love how he checks and makes sure that I’m comfortable with the idea of his friends coming over instead of just springing it on me. It’s a breath of fresh air from what Mills does.

“Yeah I’m okay with that.”

“Okay, they’ll be here soon.”

We wait in silence for his friends to get here. I’m supposed to be watching the game, but I slowly drift into my thoughts. I’ve only met and talked to William’s friends two times, when I saw them and had breakfast with them that one day and also when I went to the game.

It’s not that I don’t like them, I do, I’m just worried that they don’t like me. I don’t know how much Willy’s told them about me and I don’t know how much their opinion of me would change if he were to tell them about everything I’ve done.

I want to get to know them better because they’re a part of Willy’s life and I want to be more involved with his life, but that includes the approval of his friends.

When his friends arrive they just walk through the door. I’m surprised that so many of them showed up but I shouldn’t be- the team is comprised of like, thirty different guys. They take seats around the room, greeting us and settling in like they live here.

“Have you guys all met Y/N?” William asks. Everyone nods and I get a few smiles, which relieves my nerves.

“What are you guys doing?” Mitch asks.

“I’m trying to teach her how to understand hockey,” he explains.

Now they exchange looks of confusion, which makes me nervous once again. What? Do they only hang out with hockey players? Is it dumb that I don’t understand hockey, will they look down on me now?

“Y/N, where are you from?” Auston asks.

“Toronto, born and raised,” I answer with confusion.

I don’t understand how my birthplace is relevant to this.

“And you don’t understand hockey?”

I shake my head.

“You’ve never been to a game?”

“Well, I went to a Leafs game a couple of months ago,” I answer.

“But besides that-””Besides that I’ve never been to a hockey game.”

Mitch begins to laugh and Auston looks even more baffled.

“How is that even possible?”

“You can’t make fun of her with that shirt on, Matts,” Willy defends me, tugging me into his lap now.

Everyone starts to laugh at Auston’s hideous tie-dye shirt which he instantly begins to defend.

We watch some more of the game before it reaches the second intermission, which is when some people get up to go to the bathroom and get drinks and a conversation resumes in the room.

“You know, if you really want to understand hockey the best way to do it is to go to an actual game,” Zach points out.

“But then who would explain things to me? Would I just Google my questions?” I inquire.

“I can teach you hockey!” Alannah exclaims. “I’ve been to just as many hockey games as these fools, I know the rules just as well as they do. Seriously, come to the game tomorrow and I can explain everything to you.”

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” I agree.

“Looks like you’re being replaced, Will,” Kasperi teases.

I can practically feel the jealousy start to radiate off of him and he moves his arms from casually resting over my shoulder and knee to grip my waist. I giggle at the action, resting a hand over his arm softly. He starts to calm down instantly.

I turn my head towards him so my face is two inches away from his. “No need to be jealous, shortcake, Alannah’s just a friend,” I joke quietly.

He smiles at me, leaning forward to kiss my cheek.

“You two are so cute,” Alannah sighs dreamily.

“Ah, young love. Remember when we were like that, Matts?” Mitch asks Auston lovingly. Auston rolls his eyes as we all laugh.

“So when did you guys start dating?” Kasperi questions.

“Oh, we’re not dating,” I answer, making sure to avoid eye contact with Willy.

“Yet,” he adds.

Everyone makes noises in response before the conversation moves onto something else. I just snuggle into Willy’s arms, listening in.

~

I screech in excitement, gripping the blonde’s arm next to me. She giggles at how enthusiastic I am, like she has been doing the whole game.

“Did you see that pass connect, Alannah? Zach just hit it and William got it, look at our boys working together!” I cheer.

I’m sure the people around us are annoyed with me by now and it’s only five minutes into the second period. But after all of Willy and Alannah’s efforts, I finally understand hockey. And I love it. I may be biased, but I really love Willy’s playing style and the Toronto Maple Leafs in general.

Everyone tried telling me about their favorite teams growing up but I have a soft spot for the Leafs- I wonder why.

“Oh no, is he okay?” I ask as one of William’s linemates, John Tavares, gets checked into the boards.

“He’s fine, he’s getting up,” Alannah reassures me.

We watch the game with some more comments before it ends, the Leafs winning over the Blues 3-2. Alannah and I wait in excitement for our boys to leave the locker room so we can shower them in kisses and praises. Zach comes out first and makes conversation with us while we wait for Willy.

Finally, the blonde emerges, hair damp and a gray suit covering his body.

“Will, that was such a great game!” I yell, throwing myself into his arms. He manages to catch me and laughs, wrapping his arms under my thighs to support me while my arms go around his shoulders. I bury my face in his neck, inhaling the fresh scent of whatever bodywash he uses.

“Thanks, babe.”

“Did you two lovers want to go to the club with us?” Mitch asks, walking out of the locker room beside Auston.

“Oh,” I hop down, moving to stand beside Willy and wrap an arm around his waist. He returns the favor. “I’m really sorry, boys, but I should be heading home.”

I don’t want to test the waters too much with Mills. He’s been busy with unpaying clients this past week so he hasn’t noticed my absence too much, but I don’t want to push it and be out every day and night all day and night. He for sure would suspect something then and I would get punished for it.

“Okay, maybe next time,” he promises, leaving with Auston.

Willy starts to move us in the direction of the players parking garage and we begin to talk about the game.

He explains some little things that I was confused about and we talk about what we liked and disliked about the game.

“I feel like all you listen to is Post Malone, Will,” I confess with a giggle as he starts the drive home.

“What? I listen to more,” he says defensively, “This is just a really good song.”

“If it’s such a good song then I dare you to sing along,” I tease.

He sends me an amused glance. “Fine, challenge accepted.”

He turns up the volume a little bit, humming along to the beat before attempting to rap along. I can’t help but burst into laughter. I haven’t been this happy in a long time.

And I would love to be this happy forever.

I want nothing more than to be carefree in William Nylander’s expensive-ass car listening to him fail as he tries to rap along to Post Malone for the rest of my life.

I want nothing more than to sit on the couch with Willy and watch game tapes and have his friends come over and talk all night long.

I want to go grocery shopping with him and I want to go to the doctor with him and I want to watch him succeed and fail and I want to have him watch me do those things too.

I want to change. And as much as I would love for Willy to be a big part of my life while I change, I want to do it for me.

I don’t want to rob people anymore. I don’t want to steal from hardworking farmers or even rich people, no matter how much I don’t think they deserve it.

I want to go back to college and turn my life around and someday marry William and have lots of babies with him.

We reach my apartment and he parks at the curb, turning to me and asking softly, “Do you want me to walk you up?”

I shake my head silently. He senses the different vibe in the car and stays quiet, waiting for me to talk. It’s something he’s learned to do after a while- just give me my own space and I’ll tell him what’s on my mind.

I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the headrest. “I don’t want to be with Mills anymore. And I don’t want to live in this apartment anymore.”

I open my eyes, tilting my head to look at him. “And I don’t want to steal anymore or drink anymore or smoke weed anymore.”

“You don’t have to,” he reassures me.

“I have to move out,” I ignore his words, “But this city is so expensive. I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I think my best bet is to go home and beg for forgiveness.”

“Move in with me,” he offers. I give him a look. “No seriously! Stay with me for however long you would like. A day, a month, forever.”

“Willy-””Y/N, it’s your best bet to change your life around. And you’ve taught me so much already, it’s the least I could do to repay you,” he begs.

“What are you talking about, you repaying me,” I scoff.

“Y/N.” His soft tone makes me freeze. He grabs my hand gently, leading it to his lips. “Please let me do this for you.”

“Okay.” I nod.

“Do you know if Mills is home now?”

I shake my head.

“Then I’ll go up with you while you pack your stuff.”

I lead him into the apartment building and up to my floor. I open the door, the strong scent of blood hitting me as soon as I step foot into the room.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, covering my mouth.

William steps in behind me, letting out an, “Oh shit.”

In the middle of the living room is a dead man. He looks to be about our age and I honestly can’t tell how long he’s been dead. The pool of blood surrounding his body makes me want to throw up.

“Mills,” I scream out, tears starting to fill my eyes. “Mills!”

I start to run throughout the small apartment, searching for my ex-lover.

“Y/N, I’m calling the police,” I can barely hear William’s voice over my heartbeat.

Holy fuck holy shit. There’s a dead body in my living room- not only that, but an unknown dead body?

Who is this man? Why is he here? Where the fuck is Mills?

Everything is a blur.

[noonawriter]

Delicious Rendezvous

WORD COUNT: 4638

WARNINGS: flashbacks to torture, shameless flirting, over-worked and stressed main character

DELICIOUS RENDEZVOUS

Chapter 4

“Bad news,” Siwon said as soon as he was in earshot of Heechul. “Our contact in 223 has been transferred and is locked out of the local system here.” He bit his lip, a rare slip of control. “As I’m sure you know, we’re cutting it too close to develop a new one just yet.” His first creation walked up to him with a look of hesitation on his face.

No mystery as to why.

Back when the terror of it was fresh, Siwon informed Heechul of a raid that had occurred a decade ago and how badly it had ended. The whole thing played like a movie reel of memories and fears. It wasn’t the sex work that sank them that time - no one runs that kind of operation without a contingency plan. No, it was who was doing it that led to tragedy.

Several of the employees ended up in a specialized prison only to be slowly tortured to death because supernatural creatures weren’t known then... And groups of humans have the capacity to do terrible things when they’re afraid of the unknown. Ingenuity, put to exactly the wrong purpose. What little inside data could be gleaned was... It was... Unspeakable, to this day.

Heechul considered giving him a moment of comforting touch, but it would be crass to make it so very evident that his right-hand man’s thoughts were left entirely unlocked. They sure as hell didn’t have time for a fight, either.

Not a creature anywhere didn’t hear about that disaster. The Council exploited those fears, the prejudices borne of it, but for the rest of the community, lacking that level of power... Whatever there was where Heechul’s stomach used to be turned just the same way at being bombarded with it all over again, shrunk into a few nauseating seconds. If his hair could still stand on end, it would. Even the humans that supported that establishment had been fined so heavily that they were out on the streets, and then... disappeared. Maybe to the same place. Who knows? Siwon visibly winced at that last thought, but forced that idea to the side. There were days that his confidence that his master would never let anyone harm him or their brethren was all that allowed the leader to make it happen.

Yet, sometimes, Heechul really wished Siwon had more magic potential. This was one of the rare moments where he’d very much like to be able to not hear these thoughts. Keeping his hands from ripping his own hair out was as much as he could manage here, arms stiff at his sides. Was he even capable of crying anymore? Did he have what it would take to stop a repeat of such horrors between his very own walls?

It was all too much. Too much. Heechul had to set it all aside too. Rather than comfort, he ended up having to tap Siwon’s cheek just to bring him back to the present.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a shake of his head. ”I remembered it again.” That raid was the last time Siwon tried working for anyone else, is the only other thing he would say about it out loud. He broadcast the rest louder than an echo in a cave, though, he just didn’t know he was - right to Heechul like an open book, at least. Not a hint of a side gig since.

The grass only looks greener, as it were.

Finally, that portion of mental agony was over, tucked away back in its box. Upon realizing the massive amount of work that their contact being pulled out from under them meant, Heechul’s shoulders slumped. There was too much weight upon them.

However, he only allowed himself those two seconds of self-pity before squaring them back up. “Shit. That means there’ll still be a raid tomorrow night.” He checked, unwittingly holding his breath, but couldn’t get much detail. “That only gives us about a day and a half.” He counted off on his fingers as he called out instructions. “We need to put up glamour and force barriers on the rooms, make excuses, reschedule appointments, make sure all my kids have somewhere to stay for the night..."

A groan slipped out. But only one. How he dreaded this last part. “I’ll have to handle the backstage regulars. They would feel slighted if informed through an intermediary.”

While he was appreciative of his higher-paying customers in that they kept the show running, literally and otherwise, they always looked down their noses at him when complications came up. Fuck, he felt a headache coming on already. He pinched the spot just above the bridge of his nose. He’d have to add on the promises of a free service to make sure they kept silent about where they went and who ran the show - and he hated burdening his kids like that.

Hated it with everything in him, but the alternative was worse. He’s not risking any kind of prison cell for anyone.

“Of course, Master. I’ll initiate the protocol and distribute the workload immediately.” A floating schedule appeared next to Siwon, its constituent lines made of light if light could be smoke.

“Thank you. Time for me to get to my part of the work as well.” Heechul watches as Siwon carefully inspects the list and moves to assign each task. He stretches his arms out wide, a satisfying crack sounding in response, as he rotates his neck and searches his mind for where Alyssa is and what she’s doing. He needs her now more than ever. 

While her training had, of course, been intended to prepare her for bigger and better things, he needed that untapped power she was sitting on to pull this off on such short notice. It felt as though he had more to hide this time, more at stake, when in reality, the only new addition to the club was his little witch. A flush took over his cheeks quickly. He’d not felt the need to protect anyone quite so strongly since he’d made Siwon. “Stupid sex magic. Everything is amplified.”

He tried to sound mad about it, but inside, even if only to himself, he had to admit that he was more amazed at just how much change the ritual had wrought in the first place. He also decided then and there that he would not perform any sex magic with another person, ever.

Definitely not if it turned out like this. He didn’t want this with anyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No better way to learn, Heechul had insisted, than throwing you in to help with glamouring the back rooms to look like cramped offices and storage space. Everything was tightly coordinated - regimented, even, which was surprising to see in a place usually so loosely and chaotically run. Time constraints would do that, you supposed.

He rattled off instructions and even showed you exactly what you needed to do and say, but your brain was foggy with all the veins of magic flowing through the club. There was an anxiety running through the employees that you couldn’t help but soak up to some extent. “Let’s add empath to the list of things to deal with. That’ll be fun,” you said under your breath, none too pleased with the discovery. Your eyes rolled, but you continued with the task, pride not allowing you to step back and admit defeat.

Maybe even that little voice inside that was happy that Heechul was the one who needed you, for once, instead of the other way around. Just the thought made your ears burn.

Putting up the glamours was the easy part, though. Imbuing them with enough power to stay up for two entire days left you sweating and ravenous. You huffed, taking a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead and sip from the water bottle Mi had brought you hours ago, tossing it on his way past with a small smile and a congenial nod.

When all this work was done, you for sure had to get him to show you that one shade of purple again so you could try to find a matching dye. His hair had only held it for a second earlier.

You were getting distracted again. And you finally noticed that your hands were shaking, too. The strain was getting to you.

“Fucking hell. This shit is for the birds.” Your voice was tired and wavering. Hands on your hips, you stood there admiring the iridescent sheen from the last barrier you put into place. “God damn, I should have eaten first.”

“Such dirty words coming from such a pretty little mouth.” Of course, when you’re a sweaty mess, that’s when Heechul shows up to inspect your work. On his face blooms his signature smirk; after holding your attention on it for a second, he adds, “I like it,” with a ridiculous waggle of his eyebrows.

Damned if it didn’t make you want to kiss him again. You whimpered at the thought and immediately flushed, thinking that while he was still there.

As usual, though, he was gone before you could give the thought any weight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were carefully not thinking about the absurdity of taking a coffee break in a... house of pleasure where your magic training is happening, the legitimate front half of the building notwithstanding. Even after all the upheaval, there was something sort of amazing about creatures of all sorts here milling about, living their ordinary lives and being themselves. The comfortable atmosphere in this room left you feeling bold enough to lean back against the counter near where the siren was, the dull gray microwave buzzing on the other side of him. You were protected now, right? And his boyfriend was really friendly with you, so that’s gotta count for something.

"Hey," you said, wiggling your fingers in a sheepish wave. He acknowledged you with a sideways glance, but nothing more. After hours working quietly side by side, following his occasional directions about images and dimensions, that didn’t seem odd anymore. "Look, you can tell me if this is out of line, but I'm really curious about something."

"Hmm?" Ryeowook answered absentmindedly, watching Henry and Donghae play-fighting across the room with a fond half-smile. You may have even heard a faint, tuneless humming; couldn’t be sure, but you felt a little bolder, a little more free either way.

"Does the, uh, backstage work affect you at home?" This was so embarrassing to ask about, but you'd been dying of curiosity and this seemed like your best bet to get some answers. Usually, it was your training regimen that left you too drained to make conversation. To be honest, you were still kinda drained; it was hard to tell whether your thoughts made sense, your brain-to-mouth filter just about gone.

When Ryeowook turned to you, though, his brow was furrowed in confusion. "Why would I do work at home? Heechul’s wards and security are far better than anywhere else, even clubs supposedly owned by the very wealthy,” he pointed out, crossing his arms. “I only do work here."

"No, I mean, um," you blushed as your composure slipped further, not wanting to have to spell it out, "you know, you do-" You waved towards the hallway of back rooms. "You do this for work, so does it, uh, when you're at home, does it get in the way of, wait, no, does that cause any problems for you with," you were definitely red as a tomato now, your entire face aflame, "making love?"

But Ryeowook only blinked twice. "If he wanted to, we could."

"Oh! Oh, sorry, I didn't think- Sorry. I shouldn't have assumed. You probably think I'm a jerk now, huh," you admitted clumsily, pursing your lips. I sound like an idiot! This was such a bad idea.

But he only hummed nonchalantly, turning away once more. "Hmm. Well, you wouldn't be the first to assume, only the first to apologize for it," he said offhandedly, taking a sip from his mug. "But it doesn’t matter to me. I suppose I take after my mother that way," he continued in a wistful voice, a touch of sorrow coloring his features. "Keeping my mate safe and happy is my heart's greatest desire."

"That's so sweet!" You cooed, genuinely touched by the sentiment, only to be met with an icy stare as he whirled around to face you.

"Don't know why I'm telling you all this," Ryeowook said while he pushed off from the counter, his tone acrid and sharp as though the words were meant to cut to the bone, his eyebrows drawing together in anger, startling you when he slammed his mug down on the hard surface. "I don’t care if you’re Heechul’s newest, shiniest project. If that's your power,” one peak of his upper lip curled up towards his nose in contempt, “let's not do this again. I need to get back to work."

"But wait, I didn't-" He'd crossed the short distance to the doorway in three quick strides and left before you could finish your sentence. "-do anything," you finished dejectedly, dropping your raised hand. Not that you knew what you were going to do with it anyway. You muttered under to yourself, “‘Make friends,’ he said. Do this, do that, blah blah blah.” Wait a second. Newest project?

What happened to the others?

“Don’t take it too personally,” a genial voice said next to you, cutting off your train of thought. Guess your muttering was louder than you’d realized. “He takes a while to warm up to most people.”

You turned to- not the butler. Mi. Seriously, still not a butler, you hastily reminded yourself. More of a jack of all trades? Maybe it was better not to call a shapeshifter that, so you went with, “You really think it’ll be okay? I feel like I screwed up pretty bad.”

“Welllll, maybe warm up isn’t the right word. But he’ll probably stop being an ass.”

“Probably?” Despite yourself, you laughed, smiling back at Mi’s toothy grin. He patted your shoulder in a friendly way before saying, “Excuse me, I need some tea,” his hair color and the shape of his arms changing three or four times between the microwave and what you’d come to call caffeine central more towards the back of the room.

Still, after the- intimacy you and Heechul had shared so far, the idea that you were one in a long line of projects, to be set aside whenever he decided he’d had his fun, rubbed you the wrong way.

Which not only lingered through your meal, but grew. And grew. And grew bigger still.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stomped down the extravagantly decorated hall, footsteps echoing off the marble tiles that probably set him back more than you cared to think about. A red haze settled in your mind as you mulled over the words Ryeowook spat to you. Hands curled into tight fists, you didn’t bother knocking before making entrance into his office. Hopefully, whatever sights awaited you wouldn’t be something you’d regret seeing, because you were way past caring now.

"So I'm your latest project, am I?" You flung the words at Heechul the very second you walked into the room.

"Feisty today, aren't you."

You wanted to slap him. Something. Anything. Instead you settled on a seethed, "What happened to the others?!"

Heechul laughed. "What happened?" He asked condescendingly, moving his upturned palm in a horizontal arc, his eyes following before landing back on you. "Look around you, darling."

"Argh!" You clenched your fists. Eyes rolling as you wanted to tear your hair out.  "Can't you just say what you goddamn mean for once?!"

But Heechul only sighed. "Really, you could stand to learn to read between the lines. Can't always rely on your power, you know." But as you glared, he seemed to relent a bit, his smile turning amused, his eyes a touch fond. "Haven't you noticed? Those who sincerely come to me for aid... I don't take that lightly. Why, I develop them to the fullest of their talents. How else could I build all this?"

Silence enveloped the room as you looked deep into his unwavering sight. Dammit, you sighed under your breath. He was being honest - well, his version of it anyway. Relenting yourself, you breathed out a long exhale. "...That's it?"

"Yes, that's 'it'. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. My favorite kind," he finished with a smirk, alluding to extremely pleasant memories of the 'arrangement' already between the two of you.

You took a moment to gather what you wanted to say. His aura gave you a reason to pause. Your words needed to be chosen carefully. You gestured your hands between the two of you. “This? Us? Just me scratching your back and you scratching mine, I’ll assume?”

“We both know what assume means, sweetheart. Let’s not do that.” He turned to walk out, but before he made it through the doorway, he called out over his shoulder, “Good job out there. You’re doing better than I expected.”

Might’ve been better that he looked away before you could flip him off. You tried sending it mentally anyway, pleased to faintly hear his distinctive laugh. At that point, you didn’t know if the warmth in your heart that you felt a moment later was his or your own.

He kept getting you all mixed up like that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Donghae was speaking in hushed tones with Heechul when you rounded the corner. He noticed you coming in and moved to intercept you as the man you wanted made his smooth escape, right back into the office you’d just vacated. Damnit. “Come on, Alyssa, follow me. You need to let off some steam.” Objecting, you pointed towards the doorway where you were trying to go, because Heechul kept escaping conversation like some sort of extremely beautiful eel, but Donghae wrapped his hand firmly around your wrist, steering you in a completely different direction. “Your work is done for now. The boss has some things to tend to. He asked me to help you get some frustration out.”

Before he crossed the threshold to a room new to you, he looked at you, waggling his eyebrows. “I’m more than happy to help, Lys.” He giggled at your huffed response as he pulled you out a side door and a few buildings over into what looked like a gym at a country club, just on a smaller scale. Taking in the sights before you, your brain reeled at the possibilities of what Heechul was going to have you working on now.

“It’s not like I’m not appreciative for a break, but is physical fitness really important to my training? I’m fit enough, but…” Donghae shushed you with a finger to your lips.

Eyebrow raised, he explained. “This isn’t just gym class. Boss asked me to evaluate your skills. See where you are so we’ll know where to start.” You wondered what he was talking about. Surely you wouldn’t be stranded without your powers? He grinned as though he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Come on, just think of it as a bit of stress relief. Let me show you what I want you to be able to do.” He proceeded to throw a few punches, one sequence after another. A minute became more as he got more focused. 

You allowed your eyes to roam his form as he continued his session. The thick, corded muscles from his biceps down his back, his ass just as shapely as his chest was, even to his hips as they tightened and flexed as he danced around the hanging heavy bag. A small sheen of sweat coated his forehead as he threw hit after hit. You even noticed how his tongue was situated between his teeth at the corner of his mouth. It was cute, but then, you took his figure in again in its very nice entirety.

If anything, you were getting more frustrated, though certainly not the way he’d intended.

You weren’t blind. Donghae was fit. That was the simplest way to put it. But the way he moved around the bag gracefully almost had you forgetting he was a supernatural creature. His eyes had a dangerous focus blazing in them, and you shuddered to think of those who would be on the receiving end of an angry version of this barrage. You couldn’t help but find it attractive, mentally thanking Heechul for suggesting this break; truth be told, you didn’t even try to stop your gaze from going wherever it was drawn to. Oh, the things you could imagine...

He stopped at hearing a whine from you, his eyebrow raised high. For a second, you were irrationally terrified that he could read your thoughts too. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were staring, hard.” He looked none too surprised by that - amused, if anything.

Fuck. At least he couldn’t see what I was thinking. You stuttered out some nonsense, words failing you at the fact that he’d caught you drooling over him.

Eyes shut in embarrassment, you didn’t notice him move, which is why you ended up jumping in surprise when you heard his voice in your ear. “This is delicious. Thanks for the free meal.”

“I...” Damn this anxiety. “Hey wait, I didn’t tell you that you could do that!” He rolled his eyes, and, really, you could tell you needed to concentrate so you could get done and leave. For your sanity’s sake. You stepped to the bag and looked at him, wide-eyed and ready for his instruction without any further distractions. Hopefully.

He chuckled. “Let’s see what you got. Give me a few good sequences and we’ll call it a day. And I promise I won’t tell Heechul that you were eyeing me like a piece of meat. Besides, it’s my job to do the ogling around here.” He winked, making you feel a bit weak in the knees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“As I mentioned, we unfortunately have a highly contagious bout of illness, and thus, those facilities are unavailable for a couple of nights. We can reschedule your appointment if you would just come this way.”

“You’re a goddamned liar! Lemme back there!” Regular though this man may be, at the moment, he seemed to be doing his best to make the saying that hell is other people a reality. Heechul’s temper reached its last frayed thread.

“You, sir, need to calm the hell down. You’re at a fifteen and I need you at, like, a seven,” Heechul snidely commented as the regular patron threw every excuse in the book at him as to why he should be allowed inside even if no one else is there. The growl that rumbled at the back of his throat was deep and raspy, full of rage as the patron tried to push his way from the front waiting room onto the main floor. Heechul called out in a dead language - and suddenly, the snarling long-time customer was frozen on the spot.

The thread snapped.

No longer willing to hold back, Heechul took a deep sigh of relief as he got right in front of the now confused man. “I told you, countless times,” he emphasized as he bared his teeth, “we are closed for the next couple of nights. I can see that you refuse to take my words seriously, not even attempting to cooperate.” His hand glided up to the patron’s face as his nail traced his red, splotchy cheek. “What you fail to realize is just who,” Heechul took that same nail and raked it from the patron’s temple to his lips, leaving a deep, seeping wound behind, “I am.” Taking the customer’s chin in his other hand, he jerks the man’s head in the direction of the floor.

Seconds later, Heechul had drawn a crude symbol on the marble. “You will never step foot in this establishment again. Should you even try, I will know. I will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb. And I will enjoy every single second of it,” he hissed, face contorting in unbridled rage. Then he stood, straightening to his full height as the doors flew open.

As Heechul walked towards the doors, the man who was still immobile was moved to the opening. His body seemed to fly as he let out a terrified scream. 

“I don’t ever want to see you here again.” Heechul turned on his heel to walk away. He tilted his head a few degrees towards the sound when he heard Mi’s firm “Sir”, but didn’t falter in his step, as he had more important things to deal with. His favorite shapeshifter could handle the situation however he saw fit. Trash disposed of, Heechul added the area to be monitored more closely in addition to his typical security alert set, along with making a mental note to check his crew for potential teleporting capability or an ability to learn quickly so he could evaluate offering security training and shifts. There were plenty enough to rotate at the front and connecting doors, but in the back rooms...

That’s where danger turned on a dime.

Breathing slowly, Heechul ran his hand over the back of his neck. Problem after problem continued to appear. If he couldn’t entice some of the other customers to fill in those appointments, cover the disruption, it’d be two months at most before he had to evaluate dipping into the stash. The guilt of it ate at him whenever he couldn’t keep it entirely at bay. The ex-noble’s possessions were Heechul’s by right, but he hated exercising that option; Siwon was loyal, and good at his job, and would never turn down the request.

That it benefitted his safety as well as everyone in his employ was not as comforting as it should have been. Taking from it, even with permission, still felt like stealing. I need a drink.

No time. Back to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The static took over your vision as you saw bits and pieces of something happening. Grainy images and darkened tones did not help. Even as your eyes closed, you squeezed them tighter and found you could see through someone else at the moment, someone tall and weighed down by something. Equipment? What could- You could hear a sinister cackle to your right but the current head you were occupying wouldn’t turn so you could see who it was. Though, if your memory served you well enough, it sounded like Claude and he was headed somewhere with a mission.

You studied the surroundings of the overly dressed-up group of men you were envisioning. Sidewalks, street lamps, old brick. “Shit!” You yelled out, gasping for breath as your feet began to move without you willing them to. You couldn’t be bothered to apologize for knocking into the others as you dashed to where Heechul’s magic was emanating strongest.

The doorway to his office was shut with a supernatural energy, but somehow, your inner self anticipated it. Without breaking stride, your palm came up and a small glow emanated from it. Light enveloped the door, causing its edges to hum, opening to you silently but swiftly.

“They’re coming.” Your eyes darted around the room, taking in the sights of Heechul’s closest and most trusted. Gulping, feeling like you couldn’t get enough oxygen, you panted, “It’s happening early. The...” A boom against the barred doors down at the end of the hallway sounded throughout the club. “The raid. Claude got- someone to bump up the time frame.” Heechul was by your side in an instant as the rest of the crew flew out of the room, knowing exactly what they needed to do.

Author’s note: mad props to @thesirenandtheking​. An amazing sounding board, wonderful aesthetic maker when it comes to setting, and SUJU knowledge!!! Couldn’t do this without you.

[staytruetonorthch]

Perfect Ch. 1

A/N: I’m super anxious but here is my first official post. It’s just a single chapter around 4.5k. I plan on this being a pretty detailed, long-form story so if you like it, hang in there. I promise it’ll speed up once we get past exposition. I’m also highly aware of the switches from past/present tense, but I’m too tired to fix it and I’ve been so hesitant to post it’s either a now or never. I hope you guys enjoy <3

Football!Calum x Dancer!OC  

-----

"Don't make me come over there!" It may have looked like I was yelling into the racks of clothing and shoes in my closet, and to be honest, I might as well be. 

"You worry too much, Celley." I can hear the smile on my best friend, Brynn's face from my bed in the other room. 

"I do, but only because you don't give a fuck, B and I know those boys don't," I said, counting each person out on my fingers. "That's four people in, and not a single fuck is being given. Someone's got to, or nothing would get done." 

"You've got a point. The delivery was a little aggressive, but I'm moved nonetheless," Ash spoke up through Brynn's phone. 

"I'm cleaning as we speak, Cel. It's gonna be fine," Luke chimed in from the boys' side of the phone. 

"I can hear you lads playing FIFA," I said with an exasperated sigh.

We have a party planned at the boy's house tonight. A party I only had five hours to prepare, but that's the beauty of university, right? Spontaneity. All precautions to the wind. Everything that I never could be in high school and am still afraid to do today after a whole month of coursework. Don't ask me what I think might happen. Spontaneous combustion? Instantaneous death? A party that no one has fun at because I didn't have time to make an updated playlist or look up the actual rules for any drinking games? 

"Brynn, are you ready to go?" I ask, peeking my head out of my closet to look at her sprawled out across my bed. I can hardly see her underneath the excessive number of decorative pillows and thick white down cover.

"I just got so comfortable. I was actually contemplating taking a nap."

"Please," I plead, batting my lashes over large dewy eyes. It’s a trick I picked up after so many lyrical dances over the years. Direct eye contact with these watery eyes always left judges speechless.

"Ugh… fine, but I'm getting wasted tonight and sleeping in this wonderful bed. Have your asses in gear by the time we get there," she said, hanging up on the boys and throwing pillows haphazardly across the floor. I cringed at every one as it landed in the thick white carpet. I don't bother telling her that I hadn't expected the night to end any other way. I pull myself back into the closet, eyeing my options once more. I could either go with a red gingham top, or I could tie my white vogue tee shirt in the front for a more casual look. Both require a bra sadly.

"The red is trying too hard," Brynn said, leaning against the doorframe. "You can't pull out picnic bitch chic at a party."

"I guess you're right." I pull the tee over my head careful to avoid touching the thin white fabric to my made-up face. Once I had a knot secured at the base of my rib cage, I fluffed my hair as if it could get any bigger and smoothed out my denim skirt. "Shoe's and I'm good. What about you?" I said eyeing her in the reflection of my full-length mirror. She wore a white hoodie underneath black overalls and black high-top converse. Splitting her hair in half, she tied it up into multicolored space buns on top of her head. Brynn is the kind of girl who could put on mascara and chapstick five minutes before she left, and she’s effortlessly beautiful. Her freckles do most of the work across her nose and cheeks, making her insanely adorable.

"Done. Let's hit the road, Jack," she said, walking towards the door to my studio flat. I quickly replace the pillows back on the bed and turned off all the lights before joining her. She grabbed the keys to my Jeep, knowing I’m too preoccupied to drive us.

"Are we stopping at the store on the way or coming back out?"

"Stopping on the way. We just need paper towels, red cups, more ping pong balls because Mikey lost three of the last four, and snacks. I also found this recipe for a cool looking pink drink, but the boys are all stocked on beer."

"I almost hate the fact that I can't use my fake here. I spent good money and almost got arrested for something that's legal here." I smile, scrolling through my checklist one more time to make sure I didn't forget anything.

"Well that's your fault for not doing a simple google search before you came to uni in Aus."

"I'm just saying, in America, I would be a plug." She turned wide out into the street, speeding past every car. She has a bit of a lead foot.

"That one's lost on me, love." I try to keep up with her American slang, but I wasn't able to watch a lot of American shows or anything growing up, so I'm a little behind to put it gently.

She said she has a southern accent, but I can't tell any difference. Everything she says just sounds brutal to me. Shit slams, anything can pop off apparently, and a lot of good things burn. At least that's what I gather when she uses 'fire' and 'flames' as adjectives. 

I met Brynn at new student orientation. She seemed to be the only other one unamused by the school's welcoming parade meant to encourage school spirit, so as soon as our parents left, we left campus to explore the surrounding area locating the nearest shops and eating places. She was unlike any friend I had ever made swearing and speaking in riddles. I went to an all-girls catholic school filled to the brim with carbon copies of perfect people. We were second to none in both academics and clubs, which my parents loved, and Brynn was the absolute antithesis of that. She was a self- proclaimed 'thick' queen who was a pleasant deviance to the bird thin girls I was usually surrounded by. Her hair couldn't choose a color after multiple self- dye jobs. Even her mixed Mexican and Jamaican heritage were new to me. She said what she wanted and smiled wide at everything. I'm just happy she saw something in me to stick around even if it was the fact that I kidnapped her on the first day, keeping her from someone better.

I grab the frame of the car as she whips into the car park stopping short of a disgruntled gentleman in the crosswalk. She cursed loudly, causing my face to heat up. I contemplate jumping out of the car seeing as how the doors to the Jeep are safely kept in my garage. It’ll be a quick getaway, but I may need to make sure she makes it into a spot that isn't already occupied with this lovely gentlemen's car.

We soon found a spot and made quick work of the shopping, splitting the list I organized by section right down the middle. We’re back on the road in no time, heading closer to the edge of campus where the boys lived.

Ashton was actually the first person to befriend Brynn. They met at a summer fellowship program that put them in parts of Australia that don't have service for a hundred miles. They have that rugged woodsman thing in common. It kept them in touch through their final year in high school before she 'coincidentally' got accepted into the same university as him an entire ocean's length away. They were equally as smiley; she was just a little more… brash at times which is hard to believe. She didn't want to admit that she was nervous when he invited her to the house, he shared with two of his best mates, so I didn't mention anything when she asked me along. As the male version of Brynn, I immediately got on with Ashton. Mikey was chirpy and so sweet despite his punk persona. His other mate Luke was quiet only offering his very corny, yet intriguing commentary. He seems to be the closest thing I have to the friends I'm used to at home despite his lip ring. We formed a group of sorts meeting up in the library to study during the week and finding anything else but coursework to do on the weekends.

Our first kickback was just a barbeque featuring the five of us until Ash invited a few friends he made throughout the week with his open and boyish charm. Brynn had a few of her own, and Mikey wanted to join in on the fun, so he found a few friends to join. Luke and I were just fine meeting people as they were brought to us. Before we knew it, there was a group chat of about fifteen of us with more and more ideas of who to invite to the weekend shenanigans.

The boys had felt the pressure of expectation early this morning before Michael was a functioning human being. He shooed everyone off with a 'ya sure' before hanging up and going back to sleep. Brynn called me with our invite not only to attend the party but to host it at about 5:00 and of course, I freaked out. I plan everything, including some of the most successful events of my college career, if I do say so myself, so I took the praise for last week's party in stride. The difference is, I didn't spend my week planning out this event down to the second hand, so anything can happen. I wouldn't feel all the way like expelling my insides if it hadn't been confirmed that the first-year football players were going to be in attendance after today's match.

This confirmation came directly to Ash from another one of his mates from college, Calum Hood. Not only the best first year but the best player on the whole bloody team. He's also the hottest. The first time I saw him, he was leaving the classroom I was walking into. He opened the door just as I turned the handle, pushing me backward and almost to the floor.

"My fault, mate," he said distractedly, zipping his bag and flipping it over his shoulder. He was obviously sponsored by Nike dressed top to bottom in their slate grey gear, the school's emblem attached to every piece. The only thing I could tell wasn't sponsored was the gray beanie he had pulled down over his ears covering his hair. When he finally looked up a smirk graced his pink lips.

"You alright, doll?"

I couldn't tell if my reaction showed on my face because I didn't expect him to be so adorable with the brute force, he opened the door with. I just nodded my head taking deep breaths, trying to keep my face still. His tan skin was smooth and warm, complimenting the heat in his eyes that was slowly melting my resolve.

"Right. Well you're late, so you might want to…" he trailed off, nodding over his shoulder into the classroom.

"Right," I replied, hoping my hair was doing that cool thing it does when the wind pushes it back. It's either doing that, or the curls are fighting themselves on top of my head. It's so thick I can never really tell without a mirror, but let's be honest. My hair tells me what it wants to do, I rarely have any say in the matter. Instead of walking out of the door, he extended his arm, acting as a human door frame for me to walk under. When I turned my head to look again, he was gone.

I showed up a little earlier to class the next day to see if I could catch him again. Then I was late again and right on time before I decided to be outside the room before his class even ended. He was still nowhere to be found. I had practiced redeeming myself with a smile or maybe even words. Anything but how cringe-worthy I had been the first time, but to no avail. I didn't see him again until the boys dragged us to the first football game.

I don't mind sports at all. I grew up going to my older brother's rugby matches, so I'm not entirely clueless. Brynn, on the other hand, sat unmoving and quiet for the first time in our friendship. I think she concerned Ashton the most, as he asked her if she was ok every time the ball stopped moving.

"Someone tell me why I chose the guitar over football again," Luke said, pulling his hands down his face. "I was just as good as him, but now he's got fans and his face on posters."

"If that was true, I'm sure you'd be out there, dude," Mikey said, patting his shoulder. Michael wasn't interested in playing sports unless it was FIFA on the Xbox, but he was supportive nonetheless. Luke wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer, so he could point out the center forward dribbling through two defenders.

"That's my best mate, or at least he was before he got club offers," he said, taking a swig of his beer.

"I'm surprised he even came to university. He could've just gone pro," Ash said before he cursed the refs loudly. The boy Luke had been pointing out was quick with powerful legs and defined arms. His jaw was clenched, making it sharp enough to cut through glass. Thick curly hair was pushed out of his face with a thin gauzy headband, a gold streak shone prominently in the surrounding darkness of his curls. As he made quick work of the remaining defender, there was only himself and the goalkeeper who looked menacing. Making a sharp left jab, he caused the goalie's weight to shift, giving him the perfect opportunity to use his nondominant foot for a goal.

I jumped out of the way as the boys leaped up, hugging each other, and spilling beer. The entire crowd erupted in shouts, holding on to one another as if the world depended on it.

"CALUM! CALUM! CALUM!" the entire stadium roared. He smirked up at the crowd with a small wave. I gasped, grabbing onto Brynn's arm in surprise.

"Calum?" I asked incredulously. Oh boy what did I miss out on being dumbstruck? Not only is he incredibly attractive, but he's a football king? My parents would love him, I would literally win my family if I could've snagged him, but I'm stupid. So incredibly stupid.

This is why tonight is so stressful and important. If I can not only get a football player, but the best football player here and he looks that good, I can get my parents off my back. My mum went to university solely to get a husband, which she found in my dad. She worked as a primary school teacher until he could support them at his father's law firm, and before you know it, he was running the place. They pop out a few kids, dad runs for Parliament, and the rest is unfortunately history. Mum loved teaching, but she loved being a mum more. She just raised the 'perfect children' she liked to say to anyone who would listen. My too perfect to be true brother Cleo and her wannabe prima ballerina Celeste, me. So tonight, I have to look perfect, and everything has to be perfect, but I don't have time to bustle around and host. This party has to go on autopilot, so I can set my focus on Calum.

"It could be worse, Celley," Brynn shrugged as she set the grocery bags down on the counter of the boys' home. She's right, it could be. I didn't expect it to be this clean actually, but there were no discarded clothes in sight, no pizza boxes on the counters, and no beer cans all over the place. At first glance the place looks fine, I just have to get the dishes out of the sink and out of sight, so they're not broken. A quick vacuum run and the place would work out just fine. I relaxed a little letting my shoulders pull forward.

"Thank you, Lukey," I said, starting the water in the sink. I knew he was the only person who really did any cleaning around here. As much as they were all messy, he couldn't live in filth for too long.

"No problem," he replied sitting on the island watching me work.

"Hey, I picked up my own stuff," Michael complained looking through the bags we brought in pulling out various things.

"You picked up the underwear that your mum wrote your name in and sat back down." Ash always laughs when he chastises, never letting you know if he’s serious or not.

"Exactly. I picked up MY stuff. You guys never listen to me." He shook his head, disapprovingly.

"Thank you too, Mikey, but start throwing those balls around this kitchen, and I will cut yours off as a replacement," I said sweetly. His eyes went wide as he set the ping pong balls back in the bag he got them out of.

"So, what's the vibe going to be tonight?" Brynn asked, putting chips in bowls and swatting the boys’ hands away.

"Well I accidentally invited like twenty people this morning."

"And those people invited people," Ash added.

"And word got around so looks like we've got ourselves a rager," Luke said, rubbing his hands together with a devilish grin. "You've got to admit, we're becoming the best party house for first years."

"Calm down. We're just the only first-years who don't live in dorms where you can't party," Ashton said, punching Luke in the arm. Not many groups of friends stay together long enough or get into the same university for their parents to go in thirds on the house. It worked out to be less expensive than staying in dorms.

"We've got the fucking football team coming, Ash, I think we're doing pretty well." I listened to their banter silently as I cleaned and set things exactly where I had imagined them. The first guest started to arrive a few hours later after I had time to add a few extra touches and have my first glass of the wine Brynn and I had hidden in the fridge. Neither of us is too keen on liquor or beer.

Boys are scattered around the living room, passing around joints and playing FIFA. Girls talk around them, mingling on the patio. There’s a very competitive game of beer pong going on in the dining room that somehow consists of all four corners of the table instead of teams on halves. I was content for the first few hours refilling bowls and dancing with friends I had made at past parties. I even had time to play wingman for Michael and a blue-haired girl in the corner, but soon I got anxious. It was reaching the first hour of the new day. I found myself sitting on the floor between Luke's long legs watching him play Super Smash and stealing hits of the joint he had held between his fingers. I gave up on being cute at about two, smoking enough for my eyes to be as red as Luke's, and my shoes had long been discarded in one of the boy's rooms. I didn't know, nor did I care who's it was.

There were just about the maximum amount of people possible crammed into this small house, and I didn't bother saying excuse me as I got up to make my way to the bathroom. At one point there were so many people taller than me I felt I was walking through a forest. I tried slipping past one particularly muscular redhead boy caging a giggling blonde against the wall. I did my best to slip behind him, but he decided it was the perfect time to do the douche stretch and flex hitting me with the red cup in his hand. The pink sticky drink that was delicious if I do say so myself covered me from neck to foot. My skin went hot, and I'm pretty sure the blonde's giggles were going to cause me to evaporate the liquid from my skin with embarrassment alone. Where was my snarky American friend when I needed her to tongue-lash someone?

"I'm sorry, love," the boy said, failing to conceal his laughter. I tried to avoid his face at all costs burning a hole through his chest with my eyes. The school's emblem was stitched into his slate grey shirt, but I couldn't quite remember where I had seen this exact shirt before. I didn't have time to worry about it with my shirt becoming more see-through by the second and my head spinning in circles.

"Just let me by please," I said. Redhead stepped closer to the girl who was giving me a snarky look over his shoulder. "Stay in your lane, honey," I said, trying out one of Brynn's colloquialisms on my own tongue. My glare was enough to split the crowd like the red sea as I stormed past. Just as I reached the bathroom and twisted the handle, it swung open forcefully, revealing a disheveled brunette with smeared makeup and haunting blue eyes.

"What the fuck happened to you?" she said with an amused smile playing at the corner of her lips. 

"I could ask you the same thing," I said, pushing my hair out of my face. "Are you finished in there, so I can get cleaned up or?" She just smirked sauntering out with a wink. I shook my head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. I looked in the mirror at my hair that was slowly but surely frizzing out, and my shirt may as well have been a window into my soul for how see-through it was. My mascara was smudged in the corners of my eyes and my lips had lost their shine ages ago.

"Are you alright?" I was startled by a voice coming from the toilet.

"Oh my goodness, I didn't know anyone was in here," I said, covering my eyes. "I thought that girl was the only one and she left and--"

"It's fine. I'm not doing anything but looking at my phone." I peeked through the cracks of my fingers to see a boy was sat on the toilet cover searching diligently through his phone. I scanned him from head to toe. Black Vans, faded black skinny jeans, a cut-up muscle shirt that was barely attached at his hips, exposing his defined torso and arms. His warm skin, his dark hair with a single gold streak running up the front. I gulped, hoping I would take my own advice and just spontaneously combust.

"I'm gonna just go," I said quietly, reaching for the door behind me. I had forgotten how quick he was on the field because he scared me shitless when his hand captured my shoulder stopping me from leaving.

"No, I'll go," he said quickly. "I don't think I'm going to find what I'm looking for anyways. Unless… do you happen to know whose party this is?"

"It's my mate's house actually," I said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. He should know. He invited himself and the whole team this morning.

"So you know all the lads? Michael, Ashton…"

"And Luke," I finished for him.

"I've been trying to reach Ashton and I just barely caught Mikey before he went down to the beach with some girl. He let me in, but there's so much going on I never made it past the kitchen. Do you know where Luke is?"

"Uh… couch." I pushed my hair out of my face taking a deep breath. I may as well just give up at this point. I'm in no position to charm anyone, and I can see the remnants of that girl's lip gloss on his lips. It was kind of cute on his pink pout, but I shook my head to clear the thought. He's not looking at me like that, and he probably never will.

I turned the faucet on testing the temp before grabbing a washcloth from the cupboard and washing the stickiness from my neck and exposed stomach. I expected him to leave, but he just sat back on the toilet cover, fiddling with his thumbs. He looked forlorn, his eyes longing.

"You ok?" I asked undoing the tie at the front of my shirt and attempting to wring it out to no avail. I glanced at the sad boy in the mirror and shrugged before pulling the wet material over my head and rinsing it out underneath the water. It's not like anything was left to the imagination with it on.

"Have you ever heard Luke say anything about me?" he asked quietly.

"Kinda," I tilted my head slightly as if it would help me think harder. "He did say you used to be his best mate when we went to one of your matches."

"He did?" he asked, perking up like a puppy.

"Yeah, watches every match. About loses his mind with pride every time you score, which you do quite often, good on you," I said, fixated with the faint pink water swirling around the drain. Maybe it wouldn't be a lost cause to put this in the wash. I'm so high and sleepy it probably won't make it tonight. "Well, I'm gonna go. If you work it up in you to go see Lu, tell him I've gone back to my flat. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you."

"I'll do that," he said, standing up assuredly. "I'm Calum, by the way."

"I gathered that," I said with a small grin. "I'm Celeste." When I opened the door, I didn't imagine how bad it might look with me leaving sans shirt, with the school's football star following close behind me. I decided to start caring in the morning when I had Brynn to complain to. I'm a person who knows how to quit while they're ahead. My perfect night shouldn't be able to get any worse, and I'm not going to give the universe the time to try. 

[jcmorrigan]

Notes from a Racecar Bed

The F/O? Giovanni Potage from Epithet Erased. The S/I? Rachel Scribere - mundie, writer of much fanfiction, independent contractor supervillainous minion who has also given up on adulting. (Most of those things apply to me IRL!) I’m only YT-current, not VRV-current, and it’s been four episodes, so I’m well aware this ship could get sunk at any time. I’m just having fun while I can. AU where I have a more “normal” job based on real-life events but do evil on the side. This ficlet features some sensuality (though no overt sexuality), discussion of illegal activities I only do in my fantasies and would never do IRL, and a blatant admission of how many ASMR videos I have watched, because cringe culture is now dead on my blog.

***

         Like so many nights before, sitting on the racecar bed, me with my legs crossed, him curled behind me. So lucky he likes to spoil his favorite minion, I thought.

           Though given who we were, it wasn’t a sexual tantalization. No, he’d found the weak spots in my shoulders. His fingers would dig into them for less than a minute and I would be like a collapsing water balloon.

           “ – and then she fuckin’ waves me over, even though I’m helping that other guy,” I rant, “and I have to just up and abandon the dude and walk over to see what she wants, and it turns out her card doesn’t have enough money on it, surprise surprise, but oh noooooo she can’t possibly believe that, but I’ve got this guy waiting, so I go bug my manager, and she’s trying to tell me she’s on the phone, but I see this lady about to EXPLODE so I tell her that this CAN-NOT-WAIT, and long story short, that’s why this Saturday, I really need to get some cash the good old-fashioned illegal way.”

           “What, like tricking a gas station clerk into leaving his station for just long enough that you can get behind the counter and steal an entire pack of scratch lottery?”

           “…That was incredibly specific, Gio.”

           His left hand kept massaging my shoulder; his right disappeared, and I could hear the nightstand drawer opening. “Prepare yourself,” he teased. “You’re about to tell me I’m the best boyfriend-slash-boss you could ever have in three…two…”

           A pack of scratch lottery, thicker than a deck of cards, was tossed rather unceremoniously onto the blanket in front of me.

           “Oh my GOD!” You’d think that would have been a scream of dismay and horror, but I’d lost my morals a long time ago. I picked the pack up with glee. “You even got the crosswords!”

           “I know how much you love a good puzzle.”

           “This is so gonna help me pass the time at my car appointment.”

           I could feel him wincing as his right hand returned to my shoulder. “Just don’t, y’know, bring the whole thing to the dealership. Because if they see you with that – well, I learned that the HARD way.”

           “Yeah, I bet you – “ I realized what didn’t add up. “Dealership? You drive a fucking Vespa.”

           “WHICH YOU CAN GET AT DEALERSHIPS!”

           “Fair point. Anyway, I’ll just sneak like five into my book.”

           He ended it the way he always did – halting slowly, then dragging both palms down my back. I shivered, and I knew he noticed. “No offense, but I think my thumbs are gonna fall off.”

           “I thought that was longer than usual.” I then stopped to ponder it. “…Have I ever tried on you?”

           “Wait, what?”

           “Have I ever tried massaging YOUR shoulders?”

           I could hear a snicker from behind. “You know, that actually sounds amazing and quite well-deserved on my part.”

           “Well, then let’s switch places, dork.”

           First, I turned about to look up into his eyes, their gold flecks reflecting off the irises. God, I could call my eyes “the color of ocean at twilight” in parody fanfic 365 days out of the year and that wouldn’t change the fact that they were the dullest possible mix of blue-green-gray. And his eyes…they always sparkled.

           His lips curled into a sly smile, his fangs peeking out beneath his upper lip. “Are you lost in my eyes again? I must say, I can’t blame you.”

           I flushed, turning away instinctively. His hand beneath my chin, turning my gaze back up to meet his, changed that.

           “Uh…hi?” I said rather nervously. Still wondering how this happened. How I could have been with someone for this long, nestled into him atop a racecar bed with his hands on my shoulders for half an hour, and still get so anxious about him.

           “You know, Composer…” He was now smirking broadly. “Your eyes are the color of this one sapphire necklace I stole once. But also kinda mixed with the color of the worst bruise I’ve ever gotten. And man, was I proud of that bruise. And that necklace. Actually, I’m pretty sure I got those on the same day…the point is, they’re beautiful. Your eyes, I mean.” He pinched the hinge of my glasses, pushing them closer to my face.

           Part of me I kept wanting gone but he obviously didn’t.

           “Thank you,” I practically choked. “They’re…nothing compared to yours.”

           “Well, mine are the best, but yours are a really close SECOND best!”

           Now I was the one practically laughing. “Just switch with me.”

           As we crawled around each other, I couldn’t help but admire his frame – I always did. Just something about his slender lankiness that made my heart speed up. Even sitting, he was taller than me, just by a bit, but enough that I felt dwarfed. Now I was faced with his shoulders, and above that, the fluffy fringes of his cotton-candy hair.

           A lump rose in my throat; I was almost too nervous to start. After all, there was a very decent chance I sucked at this. I just tried to remember how I wanted it done; do unto others. I lay hands on him, beginning to work. “So tell me,” I urged, “what minor nuisances pissed you off today?”

           “Well, I almost had to change Car Crash’s name to Vespa Crash.”

           “Ouch.”

           “Then there was the person with the whole ‘Anvil’ Epithet. Whose Epithet is ANVIL? I was lucky to get ou – I mean I was lucky to get a way better Epithet than that. I mean, Soup is better than ANVIL, right? But I was always going to get out of there with – “

           He gave a sudden, sharp intake of breath, and my hands froze. I had just remembered how much I enjoyed when he dug into the very hollows of my shoulders, that all-too-often tense spot leading up to my neck, and had been attempting to mimic that. Probably a bad idea. “Did that hurt?” I asked softly.

           To my surprise, he replied, “That…did the exact opposite of hurt. Keep doing it?”

           “…Yeah. Okay. Sure.”

           As I resumed, I found myself compelled to ask: “So, did that, like, turn you ON or – “

           “Of course not, but this might be the closest I can get.”

           “Well, you know you can always promote yourself to demi at this point and I won’t even be mad.” I gave my left hand a break to flick at the ends of his hair. “I won’t be able to help you with any of it, but – “

           “That’s not in your contract, Composer. Don’t even worry about it.”

           “Duly noted, Boss.”

           I had been better at mimicry than I had expected. He was practically melting back toward me, his shoulder-flesh sinking beneath my hands. That was when I got a rather devilish idea. “You know…I may or may not have a few other tricks up my sleeve.”

           “Oh, yeah? Well, play them on me and let’s see how well I withstand them.”

           “You know the sheer volume of ASMR videos I watch, right?” This room being one of the few places I could bring that up and know I wouldn’t be mocked for it. Same way he could wear pink tie-dye pajamas and not hear any shittalk from me. “I’ve learned things. Things you wouldn’t believe.”

           “Come on. I’ll believe anything from you, Composer.”

           “Then don’t say you weren’t warned.”

           I let his shoulders alone, sliding my right hand up into his bubblegum-pink hair. Struck once again by how ridiculously soft it was. He seriously put time into it. I started off in the traditional method – just working the skin of the scalp, same way as the shoulders.

           “Seriously?” he taunted. “I mean, sure, it’s good, but this is just level-one stuff. Even I could – “

           That little devil took over, and I changed tactics, using the gentlest of pressures to scratch through his hair with my fingernails.

           “…Now thaaaaat’s more like level three.”

           “I finally get to spoil you for once,” I said cheekily.

           “Well, outside of the general gratification that automatically comes with recruiting you as an independent-contractor minion.”

           “You’re sweet.”

           “Yeah, well, that’s our secret, remember?”

           “What secret?”

           “About me be – “ He got it then. “I mean. Yeah. Right. I didn’t say anything. You don’t know what I’m talking about.”

           He then flinched and gave a light “Yeep!”. I’d changed tactics yet again – lightly grabbing the roots of his hair and giving a mild tug.

           “Did that hurt?” I asked, a new wave of anxiety suddenly washing over me.

           When he warbled “No,” I could hear that it wasn’t the tone of someone in pain – it was the tone of someone who wanted more of that. So I dealt more out, lightly pulling locks on the left, the right, near the front, near the back of his head.

           “I really did underestimate you on this front,” he admitted. “You know now you have to do this more often.”

           “You keep doing my shoulders and it’ll be an even trade.”

           “This is actually…really, REALLY relaxing…I could almost just…”

           It was gentle yet sudden, him falling back onto me, pinning me to the headboard. The back of his head was nestled onto my right shoulder, nuzzling close to my own face.

           “What,” I teased, “you’re falling asleep already?”

           He didn’t answer. Just snuggled a little closer back to me, like I was some sort of body pillow. That was when I realized he actually had fallen asleep on me – quite literally.

           “Gio!” I hissed, poking his shoulder. “Giovanni! Wake up!” Though I didn’t say it quite as loud as I could have. “I can’t sleep pinned up like this!”

           He wasn’t moving, sound asleep.

           Great.

           I contemplated just shifting his position, laying him down properly or just scooting out from behind him. However, that ran the risk of a rude awakening, and…I just couldn’t. He was twice as adorable asleep as usual, and considering that average, that’s a pretty amazing statistic.

           So I decided to try and make the best of it. Sure, I was pinned up against the seat of a faux car, but I had once bragged that I could fall asleep anywhere. (The airplane proved me wrong when I had no idea how to recline the seat, of course. Not a good sign in this case.) I tossed my glasses lightly to the nightstand and shut my eyes, attempting to make myself comfortable pinned between a crime boss and a hard place.

           Strangely enough, it eventually actually worked, somewhat. I could finally feel that state just before sleep when none of your thoughts seem to make sense, turning into a frieze of colors that make up surreal images as the opening act for dreams.

           However, I was just awake enough to be aware of a few things, if not so much to respond to them. One was of a weight being lifted off my chest and shoulder. The sound of a soft curse. A pair of hands gently locking over my forearms, and suddenly, things weren’t so vertical and solid anymore – perpendicular, much softer. (The mattress. I figured that out the next morning when I woke up in the usual position.) A muttering of words that I’m pretty sure were “There we are…nice and cozy.” Then, eventually, the pressure of a second body beside mine, clinging on like I was a life raft in the sea of somnolence, the only thing keeping us both afloat in the dream-realm.

[pamynovaes]

CROANA  Cap. 1

Sunday dawned heavy and slow, just like her. Her whole body ached, every breath, every step, were too difficult. Then she stood there, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Not a minute passed and there was that damn phrase, on repeat in her head, she could hear the voice of Joana echoing like a joke: "a lie", "i don’t love you Cris," "i can’t help it". She wanted to scream, she wanted to forget every second of the last few weeks, it would be possible to erase the memory? (Google: how to erase unhappy memories?) stupid.

Cris was surprised there remain tears to cry, they flowed from the eyes to the cheeks as tap water, there was no stopping, she probably be dehydrate until the end of the day.

As she swallowed a piece of toast that tastes like ashes, Dani went into the kitchen, he came back two steps and stood there, still watching his sister.

- Hey, what's with you?

Cris pulled the hood of the sweatshirt over her head and remained silent.

- Hey, Cris?

- What do you want Dani? What the fuck!

- Uoo calm there, what happened? -Dani looked into her eyes and looks like he could read what they shouted. - Has something happened to your girl?

There, there were the bloody tears again, damn it. Hiccups and pain, head and chest. Cris did not respond to her brother's question, she got up and returned to her miserable existence in her room, lights off, listening to the wind hit the window. Damn, it made it even more melancholy.

When Chris opened her eyes again the night was already appearing and the phone rang endlessly on the nightstand.

"Amy: Cris, are U okay?"

"Viri: Let's do something Cris, you would do well get out of the house."

"Amy: Yes! We pass there at 19:00. "

"Ev: Be ready!"

Cris did not answer, knew better, the girls would not give up. She thanked silently to God or anyone else, for those girls. Well, if life was a complete shit, what else could she do? As she looked in the mirror, hiding her swollen eyes under makeup, she fought back tears that betrayed and wants to jump again. Enough.

- ENOUGH! -She screamed at her reflection. - I will not let you stop me, no more.

- Cris? -Her mother ran to the door. – Are you all right?

- Yes mom, I'm sorry, I was talking to the girls and got carried away.

- Will leave?

- Strolling the girls.

- Okay. Don’t come home late, tomorrow is a school day.

- Yes, yes, mom. I know.

The finishing touch lipstick came just in time, the phone rang again.

19:16

"Nora: where to go? I'm finishing up a few things with my mother, meeting with you there!!! "

"Ev: not decided yet. We want you there huh?! "

"Amy: Cris, come down, we are here!!!"

"Cris: One second."

Eva thought of going in the same bar which they had that shit party, but quickly changed her mind, when she remembered a certain visitor who showed up. Lukas sent a message so they met him on the subway.

As he hugged Cris without saying a word, she felt understood, some tears wet the boy's coat, but he remained there, standing at that moment, as the girls watched them. A few minutes passed before Cris finally composed herself. Amira ran her thumbs over her eyes to straighten makeup.

- Beautiful!

[The square, kisses, kisses, the smell, cigarettes and hair dye were mixed in Joana's embrace. "guapa" she said between wet kisses all over Cris's face.]

- Hey, Earth calling Cris?! Where you were huh?

Cris smiled. – Nowhere, U are speaking?

- Lukas said he will take us to a new place, but we are for 10 minutes in this fuckin subway and got nowhere. - Amira complained trying to look really angry.

This was the first time since the day before that Cris smiled. It was easy to smile with them.

- Will you calm down okay? We are getting there.

Two stops later the group descended and met Nora, which had been notified by Lukas where to find them.

- WOW you are really fast, girl! -Lukas said hugging the girl.

The wind was  cold while Cris went down the unfamiliar street with her friends. Lukas went ahead, leading the way, laughing and showing it to a very curious Viri about the new location. They stopped in front of a pub, a sign in neon lights on the dark glass door read "Hiding place". The girls looked excited as the security stamped one pink unicorn on their hands, marking the entrance of each.

Lukas knew some people inside the bar, definitely na LGBT+ bar, Cris realized,  seeing many couples together, boys and girls, perhaps, just like her, who did not feel belonging in many other places. She felt a twinge in the stomach, will she and Joana would one day be one of those couples, proud, kissing and dancing together. But she and Joana would be nothing more.

- Hey! Nothing of sad face Cris! - Eva held a glass in her direction.

A pink liquid glowed under the lights, Cris shrugged and took a sip. The drink was strong and sweet, burned her throat in a tasty way. For this night, she did not want to remember Joana, or his pain, nothing. She just wanted to be Cris, before all this shit, the fun and nice Cris, dancing Cris, laughing loudly, a Cris that takes silly selfies.

The music was high on the top floor and after three of those drinks Cris was dancing as if it were the only one there, Amira accompanied as they sang lustily the new song that Cris was obsessed. Eva and Nora where twerking, laughing and drinking drinks of crazy colors.

- I'm going to the bathroom. -Cris shouted at her friend's ear.

- OK!

She went through the crowd of bodies dancing and smiling. The reflection was looking at her with the same smile, her cheeks in a deep shade of pink and eyes shining because of alcohol.

A girl stood by her side, also looking in the mirror to touch up her lipstick. Cris can not avoid looking at the reflection of the girl or to repair the outline of her mouth as she applied red lipstick. She smiled back and winked at Cris as she returned to the dance floor. Now her cheeks burned even more and she had a silly grin planted on her face when she returned to the girls.

- Hey, I need another drink.

The five went down again to the main bar and asked the favorite of the night. Cris looked around the room looking for the girl, wanted to look at her again.

- Girl what you're looking for? - Nora noticed.

- Girls -Cris could not tell without laughing. - I think a girl flirted with me in the bathroom just now.

-WHAT?! -The four replied together. – How? Who?

- She kissed you?

- No Viri, you know, I may be seeing things too.

- Cris No, you're beautiful, how could she not be flirting with you? - said Eva.

- Thanks babe.

When they returned to the top floor, they found Lukas looking for them, he was holding hands with a boy and had the slightly rosy cheeks.

- Girls, this is Raul. Raul those are Nora, Cris, Amira, Viri and Eva.

- Hi. - The boy answered very shy.

While dancing Cris felt a hand on her waist, she thought it would be one of the girls so she kept dancing, but when that hand pulled her closer, making like that your butt touched their crotch, Cris realized that she could not be any of the girls, but it was definitely a girl.

Over her shoulder she saw the mirror girl, her face was plastered on Cris's neck as they danced together. In a split second she turned Cris, so she was facing her and holding her waist.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Cris felt so brave to put her hand on the girl's neck, her bob hair was wet with sweat and she felt her perfume mixed with sweat and smoke, a strong smell and sweet, so feminine and so delicate that made the head of Cris spin. Or was alcohol again?

- You are beautiful. - The girl said in Cris's ear, which made a cold chill down her spine to find the girl's hand on her hip. She did not answer, smiled and looked again at the red mouth of the girl. She wanted to know how would that lipstick taste. And as if she could read Cris's thoughts, her mouth closed the distance between them.

Cris closed her eyes and it seems that things were light years away, the girl's lips moved against hers, hot and sweet tongue inside her mouth fitting with her own, was a new sensation, her heart beat so fast in her chest, seeming to get out of there. Cris felt confident every second that lasted more that kiss, her hand was lost in the hair of another girl, biting her lip and once again invading her mouth with her tongue, pressing their bodies together. Cris's head was spinning, but she stood there, kissing and dancing with that unknown girl for what seemed like hours.

When at last they parted Cris opened her eyes and saw the bright green eyes looking straight at her blue ones, once again that shiver down her spine.

- Let's drink? - She said in Cris’s ear. -Who just nodded.

The girls saw when Cris passed by holding the girl's hand and made signs of approval, smiles and a very strange dance of Eva.

Cris ordered two beers on the balcony and sat in one of the free seats while her companion spoke with a boy near the stairs.

- Thank you, my name is Agatha. - said the girl as she sat beside her.

- Cris.

Her hair was a platinum shade of gray that made her eyes stand out even more, she was really beautiful. But Cris did not know how to say this.

- It is the first time you come here isn’t Cris? Because I'm always here and would not forget I had ever seen you. -She blinked with one eye taking a sip of beer, making Cris stomach jump.

- Yes, I did not know anything on that side of town, a friend brought us today.

- Oh yeah I saw your earlier, Lukas right? I met him two weeks ago. He's an amazing guy.

- Ah yes. He is the best. -What to say? Cris did not want the girl thought she was a complete idiot or a newbie in this story to flirt with girls, but she just didn’t know what to say, so she took another sip of beer, trying to think of something less stupid to ask than her age.

- You're new in all this, right? - Agatha broke the silence, something in Cris called her attention, and it was not just the big eyes and gorgeous hair, or the way she danced, or her ass, something in this girl was intriguing.

- Can you notice it? - Cris replied, feeling his cheeks burn even more.

- Just a little. - Agatha said with a laugh. Her voice was soft and gentle, unlike Joana's voice, deep, cutting under her skin. Joana? No, nothing to think about Joana. - It's actually the first time I've been in a bar like this. I really lost too much time in my life.

- Nah, I believe that we do not waste time, at each stage of our lives we are exactly where we should be. Every thing that brought us right here in this fucking counter, taking this damn hot beer. - She took a sip. - Otherwise, how would you end up here? How would I look at you, or kiss you?

Agatha came over and kissed Cris, light as if this were the first kiss. Cris put her hand on her cheek and held it there for a second longer before letting the kiss end.

- Really, ended up just fine then. - Cris agreed.

They talked for long minutes before the girls came down, all drunk, and crowded around them.

- Cris, we need to go, it's nearly midnight, we will miss the last subway. - Amira said, checking the time on the phone.

Cris almost choked on the drink, two missed calls "Mom."

- Shit, she'll kill me.

Agatha looked confused at her.

- My mom. - Cris said.

- Ah yes. I know how it is. Well, but I will see you again? Saturdays here is much better, this weekend I will play here, I'm DJ, well I'm starting.

- WOW. - Eva already seemed very excited, maybe it was the drink. - We will come! - She put her arm on the girl's neck. Definitely the drinks.

- We'll see, ok Eva?

Agatha laughed at the girl and returned the hug.

- I think she liked me Cris, you will have to come, for her. - And that blink again, thank goodness the night was coming to an end, otherwise Cris's stomach will end upside down.- Well, shall we?

Viri came with the coats of all the hands and Lukas was waiting at the door.

Wait a minute, I'll go with you, since you're leaving i will get going too - Another simple, quick kiss that left Cris breathless.

The night had become even colder, now a little more dark and empty. Agatha took Cris's hand and intewined their fingers. Cris felt her heart racing, she looked around, afraid, and if anyone saw them, and if someone who knows her parents were around. Lukas was going ahead of them, also hand in hand with Raul, she felt a surge of confidence, she could not always live in fear, right?

While waiting on the empty platform Agatha pulled Cris for another kiss, longer this time, and Cris corresponded, not reminded of fear or insecurity, just kissed her, while her friends took pictures and were recording small videos on Instagram.

When the subway arrived Agatha asked for Cris’s number. Amira joined everyone for a last shot, they all almost didn't fit on the screen, Agatha  pulled Cris up to sit on his lap and so Amira took a selfie. Raul and Lukas embraced side by side, Viri, Eva and Nora making faces in the back of them, Cris with her arm around the Agatha's neck, smiling beside.

Lying in bed and rolling the Instagram feed for the thousandth time Joana felt bored, felt bad about herself for what she did to Cris, the things she said, why she had done it? Well she knew that all she wanted was to protect Cris, she didn’t want her to suffer as she suffered on Thursday, could not go on with her so that she was always worried about her, or visiting in hospitals. That was not what Cris deserved, she had to have a happy and healthy relationship, normal. And that Joana could not give, however she wanted. She loved Cris, she knew it, and so it was better to let her go.

Joana found herself remembering the weekend she spent in Cris house, the way she kissed her, afraid and still giving her all. Cris seemed so confident for everyone, but with Joana, in those days, she seemed fragile and shy, was ashamed of Joana touching her or kiss her. Joana desperately wanted to touch her, but waited patiently for her to wanted it too.

The increasingly insistent kisses, all night long, the film forgotten on the screen, the hands of Cris, curious and shy around your waist or in your face. The shiver she felt when Cris finally touched her breasts and everything that happened after. Everything was too intense with Cris, she didn't want to lose it, but had no other choice. She had to let Cris go. It would be better for everyone.

Amira posted a photo, Joana's heart skiped a beat for a second, she was there with her yellow sweatshirt and hair tied in a messy bun, “guapa”, red cheeks and that sweet smile, always, beautiful. Her arm around the neck of another girl, a different girl, Joana did not know her from the school or party that Cris had given. The girl's hand on Cris’s thigh too intimately.

Joana was breathing fast and without rhythm, the heart squeezed in the chest and eyes stung with tears. She clicked on the picture "agata.loiusa", clicked on the profile, a very beautiful and seemingly older girl, gray hair and a rebellious attitude in each picture. In the tagged photos another punch in the stomach, "Hiding place tagged agata.louisa in three photos" first: Agatha with a group of people in front of a rainbow flag, second: a photo holding a drink with an older man in same wall, third: she and Cris, her girl, Cris giving a kiss on her cheek and holding her by the waist.

These photos have dropped like a bomb on Joana’s head, her heart ached and her eyes burned, she closed the Instagram and let the phone drop to the floor. She ran through the house to find her mother sitting in the living room, she threw herself into her arms and let the tears flow.

When she calmed, her mom wiped her face and paused for a second to look in her eyes before speaking.

- What happened dear?

- I'm stupid.

- I disagree. What happened?

- I just saw a picture of Cris with another girl, a beautiful and perfect girl, without  this madness and without being fucked up.

- How do you know?

- How mom?! I just saw the girl’s Instagram.

- No, how do you know that she is perfect and is not crazy or is not "fucked up"? We all are love. One way or another.

- No mom, Cris is perfect. And now she's moving on.

- Then why did you let her go?

- I can not fuck her life too, mom. Enough you and Dad, who are forced to live with my fucking crises. She doesn’t deserve it.

- First, your father and I love you, never think that you are a burden to us. And two, Cris seemed me pretty strong in the hospital when she came to see you. Not even scared with your father when she arrived, he did not even greeted her you know? But still she had stayed there with you. I do not think you have been a burden for her too.

Joana felt the tears flow again, remember how Cris looked relieved when she saw her in the hospital.

- But I know that at some point she would tire of it, me.

- You did not give her the opportunity to say it for her Joana, you made this decision and did not talk to her, just trow her out of your life. If you do not give someone the opportunity to enter how will you know if they will stay?

Joana looked at her mother and said nothing, just absorbing all that wisdom, sometimes she was too hard on her parents. It was stronger than her, but this woman understand it, she never gave up on her, no matter how she hated to admit most of the time, she was her best friend.

- But now it's no use, I lost her, I let her go, and she is there, kissing that bitch "Agatha".

Her mother laughed and put her daughter lying in her lap.

- Well then, tomorrow when you return to school, talk to her. Do not give up, because I'm sure she did not give up on you.

- Maybe. - said Joanna, already feeling her eyes too heavy to stay awake.

#CROANA #SKAMESPANA #SKAMSPAIN #FANFICTION #CRIS #JOANA 

[geordiesaffer-blog]

How is everyone doing? Still hanging in there? I sure hope so... I've been keeping busy with my stitching, reading, beginning a new (non-cross stitch)  project (which I'll let you in on some day soon!), trying to limit my news intake, and connecting with family members via Zoom and Board Game Arena . Since this whole strange Covid-19 saga began for us in mid-March, the only person I've talked to face to face is my husband! Such a strange feeling...  My family met up for a virtual game night on Easter Sunday (on Board Game Arena) and it was wonderful to see everyone's smiling faces. My oldest son and daughter-in-law in California, middle son and girlfriend who live 30 minutes away, and my youngest son in the Washington, DC area all connected online for games of Yahtzee and Sushi Go. I basically just watched and coached my husband a bit in Yahtzee as only five players could play at a time.My stitching has been hit and miss--still having trouble settling, but I do try to sit down each day for a couple hours in the evening. I know you've seen these designs stitched up many times, but I hope you don't mind seeing my versions... First, is the Easter Holiday Hoopla design by With Thy Needle and Thread. I fell in love with this cute bunny the first time I saw him and am so pleased with how he turned out. I loved the colors on the chart and chose some similar overdyed threads from my stash to stitch him. He is stitched "over one" on 28 ct. ice blue Jobelan so the stitched area is a mere 2" X 2". I finished him into a circle (just traced a drinking glass to get the shape on the mounting board), padded the board with batting, and added a silk handmade cording trim. A mini-pompom gave his tail a nice fluffy look.  Easter Holiday Hoopla finishThe round piece is simply glued onto a fabric-covered piece of sticky board and placed in a rustic looking 3.5 inch square brown frame. I purchased a bunch of these frames from an eBay seller, years ago, who had used them to display his butterfly collection (no, the butterflies were not included--thank goodness!). They sure have come in handy over the years and can easily be painted. Here is another of the frames that I painted and distressed last year for a different Easter finish that resides with my oldest son and daughter-in-law in California.An Easter finish from 2019--such a cute bunny!My second finish is so bright and cheery! It is called "Easter Wreath" and is a design from Tiny Modernist. The bunnies also have white mini-pompom tails like I used in the Holiday Hoopla finish above. They, too, are stitched "over one" on 28 ct. white lugana. I used the suggested DMC colors for everything except the carrots. I wanted a darker looking carrot so I used DMC 976. And, because of a slight counting error--my carrots are just a bit longer than those charted. Oops! It doesn't affect the overall look so I just left them larger. Ripping out "over one" stitching is the worst, so I avoid it whenever possible! I kept the finish very simple as the design itself is very "busy." Just a handmade cording in that pretty shade of blue that I love so much!"Easter Wreath" finishHere are both of my new Easter finishes together--looks like we had a big party going on on Easter Sunday, doesn't it? Nope--just me and my husband. It was a quiet day, but certainly one we'll always remember due to the circumstances. I didn't even get most of my Easter decorations out this year--it felt like too much of a chore for some reason. I've been gradually learning that now is the time to cut yourself some slack--be kind to others, but also to yourself. These are unnavigated waters and no one really knows what the next day will bring...I absolutely love the pretty teal blues in these two finishes!I also got a very sweet Easter card from my friend, Gabi, in Germany. She knows how much I love stitched bunnies (or any bunny, really!) so she made me this lovely card. Thank you so much, Gabi--I always love hearing from you and being the recipient of your pretty stitching!Easter card stitched by my friend, Gabi, in Germany!Much of my Easter seemed to be spent on the phone reminiscing with my mom, exchanging old photos via text with my siblings, and looking through old photos. The photos below brought back such wonderful memories of times with my three boys--dyeing eggs, hunting for baskets, and making a bunny cake each year. Oh, I miss those days so much. These were all taken in the late 80s / early 90s as you can probably tell by all the red and blue.  I think, back then, clothing designers only made boys' clothes in combinations of red and blue! It's so nice how things have evolved. And yes--they all have the same haircuts--courtesy of my husband. He sure saved us a ton of money through the years by cutting the boys' hair until they became teens. He even cut my hair when it was longer--not sure if I trust him to cut it at this shorter length, though! What are you doing about your hair? Trying to cut it yourself, getting a loved one to cut it, or just letting it grow? And we won't even talk about the hair coloring issue--yikes! By the time this is over, I'm going to have a very wide "skunk" stripe where my hair is parted, that's for sure! Time to let it go gray? I also made a couple of masks for myself and my husband. Oh, dear! I am really  not good with a sewing machine... The first one took me two hours to create, and, although the second one was easier--I do struggle!  I used one of my husband's old shirts for the green checked one (mine) and a piece of quilting cotton for my husband's. They are "okay"--mine is a bit too loose around the sides. I found another tutorial that might work better for small heads on YouTube so I might give that one a try this weekend. Wish me luck!My two masks--pretty good, but I need more practice!Comfort foods still seem to be appearing on the menu at my house and I found this delicious recipe for apple crisp right here. When I make it again, I'm going to try about 3/4 as much sugar and maybe even take it down to half as much. It was plenty sweet!  We enjoyed this as our Easter dessert (and for the next two nights, too!). Have you been whipping up any tasty comfort foods during this lockdown period?Do the apples make this a health food--ha ha!! Watching old television shows seems to be comforting to me right now, too. My husband and I have started watching an episode of Cheers (on Netflix) each night before we go to bed--a light, fun show that doesn't upset us or keep us awake. Honestly, I think we've both been sleeping better lately... And I've begun watching Downton Abbey again from the very beginning. You see, I never watched the final season, so I decided to begin all over again. I absolutely love it-- and I really think I'm picking up on so much more of the dialogue than I did before. The Dowager Countess's (Maggie Smith's) lines are just so delightful, aren't they? "Edith, you are a Lady, not Toad of Toad Hall!" ~ "What is a weekend?" ~ "Every woman goes down the aisle with half the story hidden." I could go on an on! And the scenery, the dresses, the jewels--sigh... All so well done. I still haven't seen the movie, but plan on watching it after I finish the series.  Anyone else have any comfort watching television shows to recommend? So, how many of you have talked to friends or family using Zoom? I had a Zoom get-together with my three sisters-in-law (on my husband's side) on  Tuesday and, after some initial difficulties connecting on my end, I thoroughly enjoyed seeing their faces and catching up with them. They live in Indiana, Ohio, and Connecticut so we rarely see each other anyway. We already have plans to meet this way every other week. At the end of our session, the following question was posed to us so I've decided to use that as my "Getting To Know You" inquiry this week:  "Have you found a "silver lining" in this period of being confined to your home?" In other words, few love being stuck at home, but is there something nice in it that you've discovered? For me, that answer is easy! Yes! I've discovered that my husband and I can live together happily and quite easily (other than the occasional disagreement) after he retires. I was truly worried about that, as I was so used to being home alone,   but--so far, so good! How about you?Giveaway Time... I haven't had a giveaway in a while... so how about the chart for this lovely red house sampler? It is simply two pages removed from a magazine (sorry,  I don't know which one) and if more than one person wants it, I will draw a name. All you have to do is: 1) mention in your comment that you specifically want to be entered in the giveaway,  2) answer the "Getting To Know You" question above, and 3) include your email address if I don't already have it. You may enter until April 29th, 2020 and then I'll pick a winner and announce it on my next post. The chart will be folded and mailed in a legal sized envelope to save money on postage. Good luck to all! If you are interested in winning this pretty red house sampler chart, see above!I'll leave you with what, to me, has always been a sign of hope and comfort each time it blooms. This orchid was given to me when my father died on October 31, 2014 and it still blooms almost yearly. Each time it blesses me with these beautiful white and fuchsia blossoms, I think of him and feel like he's visiting me. And this year, that feeling is especially needed and meaningful. It's an absolute perfect time for it to be blooming with all the worries and unrest swirling around us these days, isn't it?This special orchid always brings me comfort...So, more of the same for a while--at least here in Pennsylvania. We are shut down until at least April 30, probably longer. The hardest part for me in this whole thing is being unable to visit my mom--I miss her so much. It is extremely lonely for her having no family https://www.patternspatch.com/1/bunny-stitching-as-the-days-slowly-pass/ https://stitchingdream.blogspot.com/2020/04/bunny-stitching-as-days-slowly-pass.html

[lolbtsaus]

High School!Yoongi

And now it is time for the first half of the Daegu line, my lowkey spirit animal, a total cutie who actually looked really cute in his lil wig he had in the whole BTS high school thing like I’m surprised I would’ve never thought it would look that good but it shouldn’t surprise me, he pulls everything off damN IT, Min Yoongi aka Suga aka Agust D (also I just wanna add in a quick message to everyone to stay safe, I know there was just a shooting in Quebec and it breaks my heart to hear things like that are happening so I hope everyone is doing okay and that everyone stays safe)

This will be an extension of the teenager series (for the teen!Yoongi post, click here) the original post focused on the relationship, like the first meeting, the confession all of that fluffy stuff so this post is gonna be filling the gap in and saying what I think he’d be like as a high school student 

The teenager post featured American!Yoongi (here) to sum it up, he's a big city kid (most likely somewhere in New York) he was born in Daegu but moves to New York around 7 or 8 so Korean is his first language and then with your help, he becomes fluent in English but he’s also got the tiniest lil hint of an accent and it’s so cuTe

Onto the visuals for this bc I love fetus BTS so much

Okay so fetus yoon hasn’t fully grown into his features yet so his cheeks are a bit chubbier and oh my god they look so cute and squishy I love me some chubby cheeks like when bbys have the really squishy cheeks yeS  PLZ

I lo v e fetus!Yoongi so much I’m looking through pictures rn and oh my lord he was such a cutie he still is but now he’s in his evolved form, a cutie pie 

Onto hair, idk why but I get this image in my head of Yoongi hearing how dyed hair isn’t allowed so he comes back the next day with vivid orange hair

But if I were to stay true to normal!Yoon, he had black hair in all of his fetus photos so either way he’s looking niCe, he only dyes his hair for a few weeks until they give in and let him have dyed hair then he’s rushing to go back to black

Onto fashion, Yoongi’s fashion is actually one of my favorites

It’s pretty much all about comfort but bc he’s Min Yoongi he can make a baggy t-shirt and some jeans look cute as fuck

He wears a lot of looser things, lots of coats, lots of beanies and hats, lots of jeans he’s definitely a jeans person and of course when the weather gets colder we get the beauty that is yoon in a scarf I love seeing yoon look all smol bc he’s pretty much swimming in his scarf bc he gets these huge ass scarves and he’s so content all nuzzled up in it it’s so precious also side note Yoongi in flannel fuck me u p

HS!Yoon wouldn’t be any different, he goes for a lot baggy shirts and jeans and maybe a snapback or a beanie but that’s about as far as he goes

His outfits are still put together but he also goes for a lot of blacks and grays and whites so it could be that but sometimes he’ll add in a lil bit of color like he had this one outfit that was all black, black t-shirt black hat black bag and then he had this bby blue jacket with black details and it was just one of those “ight I see you” moments bc he knew what he was doing

Okay so I think that Yoongi is actually really smart in general (obviously music is his forte) so I don’t think his grades would be horrible, he may get a few Bs here and there but that’s only when he gets really busy with his music

But at the same time, Yoongi during finals is stressed out as shit and goes into full on study mode and lives off of coffee, gets to a point where he gets up, says he’s gonna drop out and walks out of the library but then comes back ten minutes later with a blanket around his shoulders, a kumamon plushie hugged to his chest and a box of donuts in his hands, tries to ask the librarian to move into the library temporarily

But he’s also that person that sits there after finals are over with and is like “why were you so stressed out lol it’s just a test chill”

I’ve said this a few times but Yoongi, to me, is a bit more of a loner, he’s not mean to people but he’s also not gonna jump through hoops to become friends with everyone he talks to  

He’s more of a quality over quantity type of person, he’d rather have one really good best friend than twenty not so amazing friends so he really only regularly hangs out with a handful of people

It’s you, the boys and this one other person from music club bc next head canon is that Yoongi is in the music club

Music and Yoongi will always go together for me, it’s hard to think of Yoongi without thinking of music as well bc he just lov es music so much it’s his passion in life and it makes him so happy

Clubs aren’t really his thing but it’s good to have something for when he applies for colleges and if he’s gonna join any club, it might as well be music

Onto sports, Yoongi has a well known love for basketball so he would be on the basketball team

You would come to every game, every practice (if you could) just to support your bf bc that’s your man and you’re proud of him and he’s highkey loving the attention

We all saw how flustered and shy Yoongi got when Jimin started screaming the names of the players on yoon’s team like he literally just hung his head and giggled that’s pretty every game tbh bc Jimin is also at all the games to support his bro

“MIN YOONGI”

“Jimin the game ended twenty minutes ago”

“MIN SUGA”

The two of you team up and make lil posters for Yoongi and it actually makes him really happy when he sees it and he gets that precious gummy smile on his face and after the game is over, he gives you this huge hug and he’s all soft for the rest of the night

Prom with Yoongi is really sweet and romantic and he’s a nervous bub the entire time he’s getting ready like how the fucK does a tie work what’s a bowtie is there a difference what’s a skinny tie does he want a skinny tie is that what people wear to prom

But then when he sees you, he gets that smile again and he gets a bit shy bc whoA that’s my babe but he doesn’t stop smiling the entire time and he even gets convinced to take a few cheesy before prom photos and even some actual prom photos 

Okay so Yoongi can get pretty hyped up when he wants to like we all remember the Baepsae dance practice where Yoongi is pretty much twerking and losing his shit that’s him at prom tbh he can be s o fucking extra sometimes it’s so funny to me 

The entire night, he has three modes, he’s either being his extra self or he’s judging the rest of the boys bc one of them is on a table, someone’s lost his tie, two of them have taken over the music and Yoongi’s trying to decide whether he should pretend he doesn’t know them, laugh or join in

But then the third mode is his sweet side where, towards the end of the night, he takes you onto the roof of the school and he has it all set up with rose petals and fairy lights and his own playlist to play so you two can slow dance in private bc Yoongi is a private guy when it comes to affection so he figures this way, he can make you feel special while keeping it between you two

You get to just rest your head on his shoulder and dance with him and if you focus on it, you can hear his heartbeat and both of you have this soft smiles on your face and it’s just really sweet and cute 

High school!yoon is just a music loving sweetheart who’s doing his best to pass his tests, writes essays the day they’re due and is super in love

[qualitytacolover]

21 trend yellow hair color ideas

New Post has been published on https://www.easypromhairstyles.com/21-trend-yellow-hair-color-ideas.html

21 trend yellow hair color ideas

A yellow hair color is a fashion color that is lighter, sunny shade of blond and sometimes referred to as mustard hair. To top it all off, this happy hue took on the best hair photos of Instagram and Pinterest this year!

Yellow tints in dyed hair used to be a nightmare for many, but seasoned stylists and celebrities take on this atypical hue and far from the usual blondes. Hailey Baldwin is one of the first trendsetters of mustard strands, and she wore them in neon!

The fashion color expert Jaymz Marsters shows in his IG-known feed, how breathtaking and creative you can be with yellow hair. Fortunately, sticking to warmer shades like this spicy color will be flawless on any skin color.

As far as care is concerned, a yellow mane does not need much compared to other vibrant fashion tones. However, quality products are still needed to maintain liveliness and protect the health of your hair after the bleaching process. Note, however, that yellow hair is not suitable for many people and many treatments of bleaching and toner color are required. You also need to use products that definitely protect against color loss to preserve the color.

When you're ready to give this unique shade a chance, scroll down to see the trendiest yellow hair color photos on Instagram!

Mustard hair color

How would you describe this look?

For me, I see it as a beautiful ray of sunshine! My favorite thing about it is its warmth and vibrancy as well as its even color.

Any advice for someone considering it?

I definitely recommend to any customer who wants that look that he can take care of it at home! Above all, assuming such a drastic change as my client, one has to be sure that all the work we do today on the chair is not wasted at home. My client already had quality shampoo and conditioner at home, so I sent them home with the Joico Defy Damage mask to maintain the excellent integrity of their hair.

dark yellow

How would you describe this look?

The look is funny, without being dramatic. My favorite part is always the color and the fusion, which in the end creates a certain style with the hairstyle.

Any advice for someone considering it?

The first thing to do after this work would be to have the hair in good condition and make a good discoloration. It is important for the customer's personality to carry this look safely, and at home you should be very careful with certain products, especially with a shampoo dryer.

Yellow ombre on long hair

How would you describe this look?

This sunflower ombré is created from a seamless blend of film application and the perfect saturation of yellow for vibrancy and shine. I love the transition of her natural dark hair to yellow. I styled her hair smoothly in a lot of movement, because I wanted to show the transition, but also wanted to make the yellow as dramatic as it looks!

Any advice for someone considering it?

Living colors need a lot of attention. Color-safe and heat-protective products help with the longevity of the color. I always recommend buying a bespoke colored conditioner that helps to refresh the color with each wash. As far as the whitening process is concerned, this can be less expensive if you opt for such a look. Everything that the natural hair has mixed with it is easier to care for and requires only a refresh of color between the whitening work. If you keep your hair moist and healthy, your living hair will always look fantastic!

Neonhaar

How would you describe this look?

This is a real hair and a color that stands out. Having the courage to have yellow hair is an empowering thing. Be prepared to turn your heads. Yellow is also a trend color in clothing and interior.

The bright neon orange roots give the hair a bit of depth and complement the yellow.

Any advice for someone considering it?

For a strong color like this, your hair needs to be in good condition. The hair must be bleached before it can be dyed yellow, not every hair can handle this process. Therefore, a blunt cut complements the color. Almost like a wig!

The colors I used are from Guy Tang Mydentity – Phoenix Fire and Lightning. My client takes good care of her hair, regular trimming and always uses Olaplex # 3 at home.

The colors I used are from Guy Tang Mydentity – Phoenix Fire and Lightning. My client takes good care of her hair, regular trimming and always uses Olaplex # 3 at home.

Blue and yellow

How would you describe this look?

Yellow hair is a really brave choice, and golden hair will definitely lighten your overall look. I love this bright, dull, but textured bob that I created for my daughter by using Trillion Tones as a single-stage lift and deposit fashion color. We chose the yellow-blue combination because it is complementary to their natural tones in the skin and eye color.

Any advice for someone considering it?

Having brightly dyed hair can grab a lot of attention, if you do not mind being complimented and being asked for your hair when you leave your door, this is absolutely right for you! Most hair types can be a candidate for yellow hair, as the hair naturally raises to a yellow when brightened, it can be quite easy to achieve.

Depending on how dark your natural color is, the process it goes through and how bright / bright the result will be. Having vibrant colors in your hair requires strict home care. I recommend washing the shampoo only once or twice a week with cold / cool water, only caring for it and thoroughly rinsing on other days or using dry shampoo.

The longevity of your hair color depends on your home care, so it's best to use the products your hair stylist recommends for your hair to match your hair's needs.

Bright yellow

How would you describe this look?

This look is very fresh and yet lived in the sense that it looks finished but is reversed all at the same time. My favorite thing about the color is the 2 tones that appear and how the bangs of color start the root, so any blonde could wear with these types of colors as they are temporary.

Any advice for someone considering it?

The haircut is great because we took long hair and pinched it to look like a Bob (the artificial bob), and shaped it to fit essentially any face shape, depending on where you place its length. This is a great way to get your long haired customers to try the shorter length for a short period of time before making a commitment.

This look is really something you could do for a short time, as the temporary color, which is washed out in 6-12 washes, depends on the shampoo used and the temporary effect of the hairstyle. Roll up only a few needles and the back for the bob look.

Pink and yellow hair color

Have you ever dreamed of having colorful cartoon hair? Now you can really wear soft-colored lemons and peaches!

Yellow and white

If all else fails, make the yellow light by combining it with a platinum blonde. Super brave and alive, if I may say so!

Purple and yellow

The right pastel tone for both colors, properly mixed, seems to complement each other very well.

Green and yellow

This one makes you look like heroes from the comics!

Orange color

Here's one for the undecided oddities out there, combine it with a beautiful orange and get ready to carry the sunset all day long.

Sunlight blonde

Painting yellow stripes on short, blond hair is a living surprise.

High-cut hair

Many variations of yellow can look like failed bleaching jobs. Fortunately, this one does not strike the perfect point of being too yellow and blonde.

Yellow highlights

This may be the first step to yellow hair. Make it easier by first highlighting it and lighten up your caramel locks.

black and yellow

With this hairstyle, your hair will instantly upgrade to this standout fashion item in the event that you are lazy, your wardrobe.

Red and yellow

Khaleesi is a proud mother with those dragonflames that you carry on your head!

Yellowish gray

An unlikely combination, but one that works! A dark color with Canarian ends is a surprisingly good pair.

Short and bright

There is no room to soften when you have such yellow hair! The neon screen on punk short hair embodies the Ride or Die attitude.

Bleached hair on darker skin

Look, every hairstyle or color goes well with ebony beauties so it will not be a problem to try them out.

pastel yellow

Ordinary participants in bicolour hair try to use the ombre or balay technique. This state-of-the-art dipping dye application absorbs a lot of sunshine.

black and yellow

The right balance between lemon yellow and ebony color to bring a refreshing look right to your face! The color pop really stands out and takes your wavy bob to a whole other level.

[easynaturalhairstyle]

21 trend yellow hair color ideas

A yellow hair color is a fashion color that is lighter, sunny shade of blond and sometimes referred to as mustard hair. To top it all off, this happy hue took on the best hair photos of Instagram and Pinterest this year!

Yellow tints in dyed hair used to be a nightmare for many, but seasoned stylists and celebrities take on this atypical hue and far from the usual blondes. Hailey Baldwin is one of the first trendsetters of mustard strands, and she wore them in neon!

The fashion color expert Jaymz Marsters shows in his IG-known feed, how breathtaking and creative you can be with yellow hair. Fortunately, sticking to warmer shades like this spicy color will be flawless on any skin color.

As far as care is concerned, a yellow mane does not need much compared to other vibrant fashion tones. However, quality products are still needed to maintain liveliness and protect the health of your hair after the bleaching process. Note, however, that yellow hair is not suitable for many people and many treatments of bleaching and toner color are required. You also need to use products that definitely protect against color loss to preserve the color.

When you're ready to give this unique shade a chance, scroll down to see the trendiest yellow hair color photos on Instagram!

Mustard hair color

How would you describe this look?

For me, I see it as a beautiful ray of sunshine! My favorite thing about it is its warmth and vibrancy as well as its even color.

Any advice for someone considering it?

I definitely recommend to any customer who wants that look that he can take care of it at home! Above all, assuming such a drastic change as my client, one has to be sure that all the work we do today on the chair is not wasted at home. My client already had quality shampoo and conditioner at home, so I sent them home with the Joico Defy Damage mask to maintain the excellent integrity of their hair.

dark yellow

How would you describe this look?

The look is funny, without being dramatic. My favorite part is always the color and the fusion, which in the end creates a certain style with the hairstyle.

Any advice for someone considering it?

The first thing to do after this work would be to have the hair in good condition and make a good discoloration. It is important for the customer's personality to carry this look safely, and at home you should be very careful with certain products, especially with a shampoo dryer.

Yellow ombre on long hair

How would you describe this look?

This sunflower ombré is created from a seamless blend of film application and the perfect saturation of yellow for vibrancy and shine. I love the transition of her natural dark hair to yellow. I styled her hair smoothly in a lot of movement, because I wanted to show the transition, but also wanted to make the yellow as dramatic as it looks!

Any advice for someone considering it?

Living colors need a lot of attention. Color-safe and heat-protective products help with the longevity of the color. I always recommend buying a bespoke colored conditioner that helps to refresh the color with each wash. As far as the whitening process is concerned, this can be less expensive if you opt for such a look. Everything that the natural hair has mixed with it is easier to care for and requires only a refresh of color between the whitening work. If you keep your hair moist and healthy, your living hair will always look fantastic!

Neonhaar

How would you describe this look?

This is a real hair and a color that stands out. Having the courage to have yellow hair is an empowering thing. Be prepared to turn your heads. Yellow is also a trend color in clothing and interior.

The bright neon orange roots give the hair a bit of depth and complement the yellow.

Any advice for someone considering it?

For a strong color like this, your hair needs to be in good condition. The hair must be bleached before it can be dyed yellow, not every hair can handle this process. Therefore, a blunt cut complements the color. Almost like a wig!

The colors I used are from Guy Tang Mydentity – Phoenix Fire and Lightning. My client takes good care of her hair, regular trimming and always uses Olaplex # 3 at home.

The colors I used are from Guy Tang Mydentity – Phoenix Fire and Lightning. My client takes good care of her hair, regular trimming and always uses Olaplex # 3 at home.

Blue and yellow

How would you describe this look?

Yellow hair is a really brave choice, and golden hair will definitely lighten your overall look. I love this bright, dull, but textured bob that I created for my daughter by using Trillion Tones as a single-stage lift and deposit fashion color. We chose the yellow-blue combination because it is complementary to their natural tones in the skin and eye color.

Any advice for someone considering it?

Having brightly dyed hair can grab a lot of attention, if you do not mind being complimented and being asked for your hair when you leave your door, this is absolutely right for you! Most hair types can be a candidate for yellow hair, as the hair naturally raises to a yellow when brightened, it can be quite easy to achieve.

Depending on how dark your natural color is, the process it goes through and how bright / bright the result will be. Having vibrant colors in your hair requires strict home care. I recommend washing the shampoo only once or twice a week with cold / cool water, only caring for it and thoroughly rinsing on other days or using dry shampoo.

The longevity of your hair color depends on your home care, so it's best to use the products your hair stylist recommends for your hair to match your hair's needs.

Bright yellow

How would you describe this look?

This look is very fresh and yet lived in the sense that it looks finished but is reversed all at the same time. My favorite thing about the color is the 2 tones that appear and how the bangs of color start the root, so any blonde could wear with these types of colors as they are temporary.

Any advice for someone considering it?

The haircut is great because we took long hair and pinched it to look like a Bob (the artificial bob), and shaped it to fit essentially any face shape, depending on where you place its length. This is a great way to get your long haired customers to try the shorter length for a short period of time before making a commitment.

This look is really something you could do for a short time, as the temporary color, which is washed out in 6-12 washes, depends on the shampoo used and the temporary effect of the hairstyle. Roll up only a few needles and the back for the bob look.

Pink and yellow hair color

Have you ever dreamed of having colorful cartoon hair? Now you can really wear soft-colored lemons and peaches!

Yellow and white

If all else fails, make the yellow light by combining it with a platinum blonde. Super brave and alive, if I may say so!

Purple and yellow

The right pastel tone for both colors, properly mixed, seems to complement each other very well.

Green and yellow

This one makes you look like heroes from the comics!

Orange color

Here's one for the undecided oddities out there, combine it with a beautiful orange and get ready to carry the sunset all day long.

Sunlight blonde

Painting yellow stripes on short, blond hair is a living surprise.

High-cut hair

Many variations of yellow can look like failed bleaching jobs. Fortunately, this one does not strike the perfect point of being too yellow and blonde.

Yellow highlights

This may be the first step to yellow hair. Make it easier by first highlighting it and lighten up your caramel locks.

black and yellow

With this hairstyle, your hair will instantly upgrade to this standout fashion item in the event that you are lazy, your wardrobe.

Red and yellow

Khaleesi is a proud mother with those dragonflames that you carry on your head!

Yellowish gray

An unlikely combination, but one that works! A dark color with Canarian ends is a surprisingly good pair.

Short and bright

There is no room to soften when you have such yellow hair! The neon screen on punk short hair embodies the Ride or Die attitude.

Bleached hair on darker skin

Look, every hairstyle or color goes well with ebony beauties so it will not be a problem to try them out.

pastel yellow

Ordinary participants in bicolour hair try to use the ombre or balay technique. This state-of-the-art dipping dye application absorbs a lot of sunshine.

black and yellow

The right balance between lemon yellow and ebony color to bring a refreshing look right to your face! The color pop really stands out and takes your wavy bob to a whole other level.

21 trend yellow hair color ideas

[theconservativebrief]

Instagram can be a stressful place. It’s full of perfect bodies, perfect faces, perfect vacations, perfect children, perfect lives. Of course, none of those people are really as flawless as they seem when you’re mindlessly scrolling through your feed. Still, it can take a psychological toll, at least on me.

Which is why Grombre is such a corrective. The account, now 29,000 followers strong, features women of all ages with various stages of gray and graying hair. “Grombre” is a play on “ombré,” a trend in hair color that was ubiquitous a few years ago. The look could be anything from a gradual color gradation to a more severe dip-dyed look with a demarcated line between the two colors. In this case, gray is one of the colors.

I have a head full of gray hiding and fighting to come out from under the 20-plus years and thousands of dollars’ worth of blonde hair dye I’ve been heaping on it. The idea of ever stopping is terrifying to me. But this feed full of beaming, confident women has started to make me see it differently. As I wrote in my piece on the rebranding of anti-aging skin care, the best way to normalize aging is to portray what it really looks like. And wow, does Grombre do that, in the best possible way.

The account features an ex-Olympian, women who have gone through addiction, new moms, and women who are annoyed that their husbands are going silver without even giving it a second thought. So many of them have even embraced their grays to the extent that their Instagram handles reflect it: young_and_gray, saltandpeperpixie, gray.and.beyond. It’s a place for celebration and for commiseration during the growing-out process, which can take years.

Grombre is the brainchild of Martha Truslow Smith, a 26-year-old graphic designer who found her first gray hair at 14. She decided to stop dyeing at 24 and started Grombre in July 2016. The page grew slowly until it received a mention in a Refinery29 story. Since then, its followers have shot up from 8,000 in July to 29,000 now.

Truslow Smith doesn’t want the account to be perceived as a judgment call against women who choose to still dye their hair, because she understands there are many reasons that they do it: security, confidence, self-care. “I am addressing the women who are really feeling ashamed and embarrassed, or might even have allergies to hair dye but are still doing it. I want to ask them why,” she says.

Grombre founder Martha Truslow Smith. Martha Truslow Smith

Here, Truslow Smith talks about what the reaction has been like to her going gray in her 20s and the feedback she gets about the Grombre account.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

Cheryl Wischhover

How did you come up with “Grombre”?

Martha Truslow Smith

If you ever see someone growing their hair out, especially in those first couple of months, it looks like a mistake. We’re not exactly used to seeing people with half-dyed brown hair and then tons of roots. It’s this question of, “Did she miss her hair appointment? What’s going on?” So that whole process is awkward, it’s long, it’s uncomfortable, it’s vulnerable, and there’s not really a word for it. If you are growing out your gray roots, essentially it’s gray at the roots and then your old dye color at the end.

Cheryl Wischhover

So tell me why you started Grombre.

Martha Truslow Smith

I’m 26 years old, which I’m sure comes as a surprise to most people. They probably think I’m a bit older, but that’s kind of the point for me. A couple of years ago, I was flipping through one of my mom’s fashion magazines. Every advertisement was like, “Oh, get rid of your wrinkles.” Basically, the language was, “You should be ashamed of being who you are.” And I was like, “Dang. I’m only 26 and I feel shameful of that. What is this going to look like when I’m older? And I’m only going to get older.”

What started off in high school as, “Oh, I want a purple streak in my hair. It’s self-expression and fun,” turned into college-age, “Oh, my goodness, my roots are showing. What am I going to do?” I just kind of ignored the deep anxiety around that three-week cycle until one day I stopped myself and asked a question I hadn’t yet thought to ask myself, which was, “Why do I feel this way? Why do I feel so shameful about this? Am I going to lock myself into believing that my value has peaked in my early 20s and then the rest of my life is me trying to maintain this facade that doesn’t describe who I am and the life that I’m living?”

Cheryl Wischhover

How old were you then?

Martha Truslow Smith

So that’s when I was 24. I stopped dyeing my hair. Terrifying process, especially in your 20s. I scoured the internet, and I was like, “Okay, there’s got to be some sort of resource out there.” But there were all of these hot 20-something Kardashian-looking girls dying their hair, what they called “granny hair.” And I was like, “Okay, that does not help at all.”

I said, “Well, you know what? I’m just going to start an Instagram account, just kind of as a passion project.” I was shocked when I had 20 followers after a couple of months. Oh, my gosh. There are 20 other women out there that feel the same way that I do? And it just kind of grew from there. It was very organic.

Cheryl Wischhover

How many submissions do you get?

Martha Truslow Smith

That is actually a tricky element that I’m trying to navigate. I can get anywhere from 25 to 150 in a day, which is a lot. It’s wonderful, because these women aren’t just passive followers. They are really into it, and that’s amazing. But I don’t want to be that account that posts so much that after a week of following, people are like, “Okay, this is too much.” You know, you get disengagement from that. Then, also, I have a day job, so I can’t sit on Instagram and post all day.

I really make an effort to show different stages of the growth, different walks of life, different stories. There was one recently where this woman wrote, “I lost my son and he doesn’t have the privilege of going gray in his life, so I’m going to do that for him.” And how beautiful is that? This is our life that we’re living, and we are completely saturated in this culture that is constantly telling us to mask that life up and be someone who we once were. But what’s wrong with the person we are now?

Cheryl Wischhover

What are some other really memorable stories that you’ve heard in the last two years?

Martha Truslow Smith

There have been a couple of cancer survivors or women who know of someone that suffered from cancer and then decided to shave their head and just not dye it again. That’s been remarkable. And women whose little girls are struggling with a health condition or their own self-image, and they’re worried that they’re going to look up to their mom and be like, “Well, she can’t even accept herself,” and then follow along a path that they themselves are not happy as grown women.

And along that line, some mothers of young boys, where boys are like, “Mom, you can’t not dye your hair. You’re going to look old.” So it’s a lesson to them to kind of say, “No, I’m your mother and I’m really valuable,” and be that example in their life. I think it’s wonderful.

Cheryl Wischhover

What stage of gray are you at now?

Martha Truslow Smith

If you saw me at a distance, you would probably think I just had really shiny brown hair, and you get closer and you realize I am sprinkled with white hairs. I’ve got these — honestly, I think they’re awesome — white streaks growing randomly on my head. May is when I chopped off all [the rest] of my dye. So my two-year growth just ended.

Cheryl Wischhover

In your real life, what kind of reactions do you get to your gray hair?

Martha Truslow Smith

I get stopped occasionally by women who say, “Oh, if my hair looked like yours, then I would do it.” And I’m like, “Honey, how do you know that your hair doesn’t look like mine? I know it’s a leap of faith, but you have to do that if that’s really what your heart is tugging at.”

I got married in March, and most of my friends live elsewhere. I haven’t been posting too many photos of my hair, and I hadn’t been open about the fact that I’ve been running this Instagram account. At my wedding, all of my close friends were really seeing me for the first time with gray hair. Obviously, there was a little bit of shock. They’re really proud of me and proud to see me love myself in a way that I hadn’t necessarily before. Because the process is really challenging. It’s not for the faint of heart.

Cheryl Wischhover

In what way?

Martha Truslow Smith

All the ways! It’s really hard. You’re going to have good days, and you’re going to have bad days, and then you’re going to have really bad days. But on those really bad days, it’s really important to remember that as bad as you feel, on the positive scale, you’re going to feel that good once you get to a point of letting your hair grow.

Each woman’s journey is their own. I’ll speak to my own: You feel self-conscious. You feel like there’s a spotlight on you, and you feel like you have to explain yourself until one day, you have a conversation with yourself and you’re like, “No. I don’t have to explain this to anyone.” This is something that a lot of people don’t understand, and even those who are really well-intentioned will say things that are accidentally hurtful. You can’t hold it against them because really, you are on the front lines right now of a big cultural shift.

Cheryl Wischhover

Can you give me an example of some of those hurtful things?

Martha Truslow Smith

I had someone tell me, “Oh, don’t worry. Your gray hair doesn’t bother me.” They were trying to comfort me and I’m like, “Oh, god. I can sleep at night. Thank god. Oh, phew, good to know.” Stuff like that. It stabs at you in little ways, especially if you’re already having a hard day.

So you have a choice to make: Am I going to let that opinion affect my choices, or am I going to wade through the waters and figure out who I am and keep going? I feel like women specifically, we’re not only bombarded with all of these things that we have to fix about ourselves, but we constantly just get fixated with our roles. “You’re a mom. You’re a wife. This is your job,” and that’s kind of it. But really, we’re these multidimensional, beautiful creatures living big lives that should be lived even bigger. So, yeah, I focus on gray hair, but it’s so much bigger than that.

Cheryl Wischhover

What do other women tell you?

Martha Truslow Smith

I get a lot of women who write in and say, “I really want to start letting my hair grow out, but my husband won’t let me.” Or, “My husband wants me to be blonde.” Or, “My husband’s scared of having a wife that looks ‘older than him.’” It just breaks my heart. And I’m like, “Girl, you’ve got to do it if that’s what you want to do.”

Cheryl Wischhover

Is there anything else you want to say about this little mini movement you have going?

Martha Truslow Smith

I just want to emphasize that it’s not dyed hair versus not-dyed hair. It’s really a journey of, “Are you unhappy? Is it because of your hair? Okay. Now address that.” That’s really the bottom-line question that I’m trying to get women to ask themselves.

And I’m so proud of all of these women that are in their own lives, kind of isolated. They might be the only women in their friend group, and that’s kind of where Grombre comes in. They don’t have the support in their daily lives or are getting negative feedback from people that they love: their mothers, their sisters. They come and find support from each other, and just these women reaching out constantly to each other and very genuinely, I think, is making us better people.

Original Source -> Gray hair is still taboo for women. This popular Instagram account celebrates it.

via The Conservative Brief

[dryscalpgone]

Top 10 Best Dry Shampoos for Dyed, Colored or Color-Treated Hair

See Top 10 Best Dry Shampoos for Dyed, Colored or Color-Treated Hair on Our Official Site or read the entire post below:

I don't know about you, but I dye my hair. I color it depending on my mood. That's the easy part. What's difficult is finding the time to shampoo it. I'm busy throughout the week and washing my hair is not always on the to-do list.

Besides, over washing the hair can damage color-treated hair. What you don't want to do is dry out your hair and scalp, especially if you have color-dyed hair. I had to find a better way and what I found out is by using dry shampoos, my hair looks freshly washed when I haven't washed it.

I don't leave home without my favorite. It allows me to keep going when I don't have time to stop. It's simple to do and doesn't take a lot of time. Having a dry shampoo allows me to have fresh-smelling hair and bounce.

They are wonderful to have when you need a volume lift. They remove the oil from your hair in little time, so your hair is not weighed down. However, not all dry shampoos work, and there's a good reason for it.

Not only are products not created equally, your hair is different from mine so you may just need to find a specific brand for your hair needs. You will find dry shampoo brands for dyed hair, red hair, freshly colored hair and the list goes on.

What Are the Top 10 Dry Shampoos for Colored Hair?

With this in mind, let's explore the best-rated options:

#1. Dove Refresh + Care Detox and Purify Dry Shampoo

We went searching for a product which won't leave traces of residue on the hair. None of us want to have white powder in their hair, right? We found [easyazon_link identifier="B06XBG4L67" locale="US" tag="dryscalpgone-20"]Dove Refresh Care Dry Shampoo and Purify Dry Shampoo[/easyazon_link].  It's refreshing and will extract oils from the roots of your hair without the side effects.

Dove Refresh instantly detoxes and purifies! Plus it smells heavenly, like clean and fresh laundry hung out to dry. It's a dry wash delivering awesome results each time you use it.

The formula won't leave your hair feeling heavy or greasy.

Use it between shampoos for a clean head of hair

Clean aroma that won't set off an allergic reaction

Works in seconds after applying to scalp

When you have oily hair, it doesn't take long before it starts to build up in the hair. Use Dove Purify to clean the roots and strands of your hair. If you go to the gym during your lunch hour, Dove is a tremendous help. Tip: Wait until your hair dries to use it.

Dry shampoos are meant to work on dry, dirty hair. Acts like most other brands, apply directly to the scalp, massage in and comb through.  It takes minutes to complete the whole process, less than the time of washing, conditioning and drying on a normal day.

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#2. TRESemme Fresh Start Volumizing Dry Shampoo

When you don't have clean hair, people notice the problem. It also causes the scalp to become itchy. Besides, your hair doesn't do what it's supposed to do, like move and shine. They may seem like simple things to go without, but not when it comes to your hair. There are times when we can't shampoo, and in light of this, dry shampoos are terrific tools.

Clean hair is lightweight, shiny and manageable. Some people have naturally oily hair, but because shampooing your hair can cause damage, they need a solution. The answer is TRESemme Fresh Start Volumizing Dry Shampoo. It's a popular shampoo, known for its ingredients.

Using Fresh Start, you'll have a healthy scalp and without the odor. Say goodbye to lifeless, dull looking strands. TRESemme puts citrus and mineral clay in each container so you can revitalize your hair within an instant.

To put it another way, the product takes all the impurities out of your hair and gives it a new body and a new life. It does all this, plus there are no visible signs of residue. For hair that moves when you move, choose TRESemme Fresh Start.

Give it a quick squirt, but shake it up first to activate the ingredients. Part your hair and apply it by spraying the roots in sections. Hold the bottle about 10 inches away from your scalp and face. Comb or brush, style as usual.

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#3. Ambiance Dry Shampoo with Brush Applicator (Brunette)

Are you looking for a reliable and natural dry shampoo? Try Ambiance Dry Shampoo with Brush Applicator for Brunettes. The ambiance is just a little different from the rest. Yes, they provide a brush applicator, so you apply the formula directly to the hair. This allows you to get full coverage each time you use it.

You don't need water or a hair dryer as Ambiance Dry Shampoo is for dry hair only. What's in the brush?

Tapioca Starch

Panthenol

Zea Mays

Hydrated Silica

Fragrance

What doesn't it have?

Preservatives

Sulfates

Parabens

Alcohol

Not tested on animals

To add, Ambiance not only cleans, but it covers gray roots! I know you didn't expect that bit of awesome news, but it's true. It gets better. It also gives the illusion of a full, thick head of hair. Those who have thin hair can benefit.

Another surprising fact about Ambiance is all hair types can use the organic formula, it's non-flammable, and it doesn't dry your hair out. You can use the product on color-treated hair and oily hair without drying out the hair.

There are about 12 applications in the refillable brush applicator, and it comes filled with 14 grams of dry shampoo. It's small enough to fit in your purse for travel. You don't need water to activate it either. Just expect volume and luster with each brush stroke.

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#4. Elizabeth and James Nirvana White Dry Shampoo

Elizabeth and James Nirvana White Dry Shampoo is amazing! It's a dry shampoo which works great on dark hair, but especially hair which is colored. It refreshes while adding volume and texture to your locks. Also, the smell is wonderful, and it lasts a long time.

Overall, Nirvana is an undisputed 10. The only drawback is its price. However, you are worth every dime you spend on your beautiful self. You may become addicted to how it performs and smells.

If you haven't guessed it, Mary Kate and Ashley couldn't be prouder of their sleek locks, and now you know why. You can have age-long strands, hair like the model twins when you use Nirvana. It restores bounce and shine to your locks almost immediately.

The formula is made to absorb gunk and oils from the roots of your hair. Replace dull hair with shine, volume, texture, proteins, vitamins, anti-oxidants, and blends of subtle but intoxicating aromas. If you're like me, you look sexy with a messy hairdo, the “undone” look suits you famously.

Mary-Kate and Ashley bring together the fragrance of Elizabeth and James to make Nirvana. Once you experience it, you won't want to go back to another product. To use, spray evenly on the roots, wait a few minutes as it dries and massage it in.

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#5. Cleansing Conditioner CoWash "No Poo" Conditioning Shampoo Alternative

Only the best ingredients are in the Cleansing Conditioner CoWash, “No Poo” Conditioning Shampoo Alternative. The makers are so sure you'll love their product, they provide a promise of satisfaction, or you get your money back. Who does that? Not many, for sure.

Taking a day off has new meaning when you don't have to wash your hair either. When you have a dry shampoo effective enough to cleanse your locks, take away the impurities and protect your hair, you have a top shampoo.

We all know washing and styling our hair can have damaging effects. It can do more harm than good. Over-washing the hair can dry it out, make it brittle, so it becomes thin. Our scalp needs a certain percentage of oil, but too much can also be bad.

That's one of the many reasons why "No Poo" Conditioning Shampoo is the preferred brand. Their ingredients make it safe to use regularly. You won't find any sulfates or sodium chloride in "No Poo."  The no-wash formula is gentle so that it won't dry your hair. It will help mend split ends and brittle strands.

The benefits continue to amaze us as the results are manageable hair soft to touch. No one will ever know you did not wash your hair today. You'll save time and money by being able to skip the salon visits for hair repair. The conditioning factors also control frizz, so you maintain your curly locks another day or so.

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#6. Psssssst Instant Spray Shampoo

Psssssst... yes, I want to talk to you about a dry shampoo call Psssssst Instant Spray Shampoo. You don't need water to have clean-looking hair that smells like it's been washed.

The formula in Psssssst draws up the sweat, chemical buildup, and oils from your hair without cool or warm water. All you need is a bottle of the Instant shampoo, and you can go another day without washing your hair. It helps to keep your style longer and prevent over washing.

Washing your locks too much causes hair damage. It can dry out and become brittle and flat. Styling tools such as flat irons and curling irons add to this condition. The more things you can do to prevent dry hair, the better your strands will feel and look.

Stylists believe in Psssssst Instant Spray Shampoo. In fact, they recommend it for preventive care and between washing. It goes wherever you go. The bottles are lightweight and convenient. Just throw it in your overnight bag, so it's within reach anytime you're ready to use it.

When you need it, shake it up for about 5-10 seconds before you spray it on. One important point to make here is by parting the hair into sections and spraying from the roots holding your head down, helps to give the hair volume.

After you spray it on, wait a few minutes before combing through. Give it enough time to dry at the root of your hair. Brush and style.

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#7. LUSH No Drought Dry Shampoo

Who has the time to wash their hair every day? It's not only a wash, but it's drying the hair and conditioning the hair plus styling it, too. The hair goes through so much on a daily basis, no wonder it dries out.

Why don't you take a break from washing? How? Use LUSH No Drought Dry Shampoo, of course. It's made especially for those times when you shouldn't wash your hair or can't. An effective product will take up the extra oils from your hair while giving the appearance of being clean.

Use it on dark hair, give it volume and texture. Don't worry about shampooing today and still have fresh, smelling hair. In fact, take a whiff of its lemony, fruity aroma. Other ingredients include talc, grapefruit, corn flour and cucumber powder.

You don't have to use much of the LUSH dry shampoo. Shake the can to active the ingredients, spray a bit on your scalp, but not too much and work it through using your fingertips. Blending completely throughout your scalp, you should have a matte finish, soft and beautiful.

You should add just a little more if you have long hair, however, don't use too much. Brush well, give your head a shake and style. If you have short hair, LUSH No Drought will give it the extra lift it needs to look full. Great for when you decide to do something at the spur-of-the-moment.

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#8. Suave Professionals Dry Shampoo, Keratin Infusion

The professionals at Suave came out with a dry shampoo so incredible, and it doesn't leave any film or residue behind. And because it's a dry shampoo, you don't need any water to wash your hair. This formula is for all hair types, so there's no one left behind.

Everyone can have smooth, flowing locks with Suave Professionals Keratin Infusion Dry Shampoo.  When you can't make it to the salon, apply the shampoo instead. It's quick and so convenient to use and to store. Also, it's an excellent way to extend your blow out or twist out another day or so.

Another great point to mention is Keralock technology allows you to use it on curly and wavy hair types. It conditions the hair and well as clean it. Asians use it as well as African Americans. It doesn't make your hair feel heavy or dry.

First, part and tie off your hair in about four sections. Second, shake the can to mix the ingredients. Third, spray the roots of your hair. Hold the bottle or can about 10 inches away from your face and roots. Fourth, massage, using your fingertips.

Repeat steps for all sections of your hair and lastly, comb or brush through.

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#9. Batiste Hint of Color Dry Shampoo

Batiste Hint of Color takes the pressure off between washings. Because of this, your hairdo lasts longer. The benefits keep going as it covers the gray roots and new growth. Color adds dimension to your hair, especially to short hair, but not only that.

If you have blonde hair or dye, bleach or highlight your hair, it helps to revitalize the color. At the same time, if you have hair that is thinning out, it will help to camouflage the areas. Batiste is one of the originals, so they have experienced other brands do not have.

It doesn't take much of the formula to clean your hair and to make it glossy and manageable. It's another spray-and-go product for people who don't have time to shampoo every day. In under ten minutes, you can have fresh looking hair that smells fresh as a summer's breeze.

In short, Batiste Hint of Color -

Gives your hair a volume lift

Smells great

Is gentle on the hair

Simple to apply

Works on straight hair

Can apply to curly and wavy hair

Perfect to take on camping trips, long road trips, and extended air travel.  In addition to that, it's awesome for just after having a baby, surgery or when you're incapacitated otherwise. In other words, when you don't have the luxury of time, and you need to shampoo, Batiste products work without adding to the chemical buildup.

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#10. Batiste Dry Shampoo, Brilliant Blonde

Want to add a hint of color to your blonde roots? Do you have bleached hair and new growth? If so, you need to try a product that won't dry out your hair. Batiste is right for anyone who needs clean hair but shouldn't shampoo a lot.

It works without water so that you can apply it in the backseat of the carpool or on the train ride to work. It's also good after a jog or a workout. However, there are tricks you can do before your workout to add style to your hair.

Before you start your exercises, spray it on your hair. Braid it up and use a cloth tie to secure your braids. After you're finished, blow dry your hair and take the braids out and you have a new look!

The Batiste Dry Shampoo leaves your hair feeling clean and freshly washed. Women who have fine or thinning hair should take advantage of this product.

Styling your hair can harm your locks and so can shampooing too much. Dry and brittle hair or hair having split ends should use protective products and hair styles. You get that clean, fresh hair smell after applying it as well, so you're not missing anything.

To sum up using Batiste Brilliant Blonde, the user will experience -

Volume or body even on day 2

Removal of excess chemicals and oils

No odors other than fresh and clean

Another day without washing

Texture and color

Blends in new growth color

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Questions & Answers (Q&A)

How Do I Get Volume When Using a Dry Shampoo?

One way to give your medium-length hair more volume is to hold your head down, so your hair is extended. Gather it up to put it into a ponytail. Hold the spray bottle so that you're only spraying your ponytail.

Knot your tail, so only the ends are showing and apply bobby pins to the ends. Add some finishing gel to the ends, and you have created volume!

Where Can I buy Batiste Products?

You can purchase Batiste online at Amazon. Of course, Walmart carries the product as well as Walgreen's and Rite Aid.

Will Using Dry Shampoos Damage My Hair?

On the contrary. They help to remove oils so that you can go without washing longer. Too much washing can dry out the hair, and that's where the damage is done. Over washing makes the hair brittle. Therefore, it's easy to break. Use a dry shampoo to prevent over processing.

I have Thin Hair. Is It Safe to Use?

Yes, using one will help your hair to looker fuller. Because you're not using water to clean your hair, you're doing your hair a favor.

Should I Use Them When My Hair Is Wet?

No. They should be used only when the hair is dry and not damp. If your hair is damp, blow dry it before applying.

My Hair is Naturally Oily. Will It Work on My Hair?

Yes, it, in fact, works best with oily hair as it soaks up the excess. You can apply it to your strands as well as to your roots for the best coverage.

Will People Know I Didn't Wash My Hair?

You would have to tell them for anyone else to know.  There aren't any visible signs that will let others know you cheated a little bit. However, there can be some residue left after applying it. All you need to do is wipe clean with a towel, and your secret is safe.

Can I apply It Every Day?

You can clean your hair for up to three days using the dry shampoo. It's a substitute, not a replacement for shampooing.

What Are the Side Effects?

Well, there aren't many, but no product is perfect. What works for you, may not work for someone else. But one of the side effects would be a dry scalp.

However, for this to happen, you probably have a dry scalp, to begin with. In this case, refrain from using a dry shampoo often or follow up with a conditioner.

Will It Make My Hair Sticky?

Again, what works for some, may not work for another person. Normally, a dry shampoo would not dry your hair or make it feel sticky. On the other hand, a lot of this answer depends on the current state of your hair.

If your hair is mainly dry at the roots, you shouldn't apply too much. If you have oily hair, you should apply just a tad more as well as to long hair. If you apply too much, wipe excess off with a towel.

Will It Help to Control Frizz?

Yes, it sure does. It helps to maintain your hair, so not one of them is out of place. The dry shampoo, in most cases, is like using a mousse. It will help calm your hair.

Which is Better, a Powder or Spray?

Powders seem to work best with color-treated hair, but they both have different formulas. With that said, they will do different things. A dry spray gives shine to the hair and makes the hair easier to style. One has a higher amount of starch and powder. This is so it will soak up the extra oils in the hair.

Do I Flat Iron My Hair before or after Applying Dry Shampoo?

Spray it in your hair, and of course, let it dry before you put heat to your hair. You may need to brush the spray out first to get rid of the residue.

How Long Does a Bottle Generally Last?

This answer depends on how often you use it, of course. Typically, it will last about a month, and that's if you use it a few times a week or more. Some people use it sparingly, and a bottle will last two months.

Some Products Are More Expensive. Are They Better?

Something doesn't have to be expensive to work. The less expensive brands are just effective if they have the right ingredients in them. Don't be fooled into paying a high cost when you don't need to pay the high cost.

Are There Any Harmful Chemicals in Dry Shampoos?

Mostly, the ingredients are organic, free of parabens, sulfates, and preservatives. To be sure, read the label. If you're not sure about a name, google it.

My Hair Is Thick. Will a Dry Shampoo Make It Even Thicker?

Probably so. Most will add volume to the hair, so likely, and it will work the same on your hair. To control the volume, we suggest adding a little at a time.

What Happens If I Get Caught in the Rain? Do I need to Apply More?

If you don't decide to wash your hair, since it is already drenched, I would think not. In fact, I would suggest a shampoo and condition at this time. Rain water is excellent for the hair, and after getting caught in the rain, the product certainly washed away.

However, if you don't decide to cleanse, wait until the time is right to add more.

Is This Healthy for My Hair?

Most manufacturers use organic ingredients which contain vitamins and minerals, so yes, they can be excellent choices to use on your hair. Dry shampoos are meant to clean the hair when you don't have the opportunity to do so properly.

They are not supposed to take the place of regular shampooing and conditioning. With that said, the less you shampoo your hair, the better you're off. Too much can strip the hair of its natural oils and cause dryness, brittle hair, and split ends.

They are great tools to use between regular hair care and maintenance. It's an awesome benefit to have if you have thin hair, dyed hair, or can't wash your hair for whatever reason. You may need to do your research to find the one best for your hair type.

The best brands are not always the most expensive ones, so you don't have to spend a lot of money. Of the dry shampoos, we recommend [easyazon_link identifier="B01CYDXMSW" locale="US" tag="dryscalpgone-20"]Batiste Dry Shampoos[/easyazon_link]. They offer a full line of products for all hair types.