#my frizzy hair would never let me style the hair THAT short

[valyrra]

im screwed

international cut your hair like your icon day how screwed are you 

[reaper2187]

Renee rapp x fem reader

As the sun streamed through the window of the cozy salon, you nervously fidgeted in your seat. You had been contemplating getting a haircut for weeks, but the thought of drastically changing your appearance was enough to make your stomach churn. Despite your fears, you couldn't deny that your long hair, once luscious and silky, had now become unruly and unmanageable. It was time for a change.

As you anxiously waited for your turn, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your heart sank as you noticed the split ends and frizziness that had taken over your once beautiful mane. You couldn't bear the thought of losing all your length, but something had to be done. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that it was just hair, it would grow back.

Finally, the stylist called your name and you followed her to the chair. You explained to her your hesitation and she reassured you with a warm smile. She suggested a popular haircut among her clients, the 'wolfcut'. It was a short, layered style with bangs that swept across the forehead. You had never heard of it before, but you trusted her expertise and gave her the go-ahead.

As she snipped away, you could feel the weight of your hair being lifted off your head. It was a strange sensation, but also a freeing one. When she was done, she spun you around to face the mirror. You couldn't believe what you saw. You had never had short hair before and it was a shock to see yourself with a completely new look.

Feeling a mix of excitement and nerves, you paid the stylist and stepped out of the salon. As you made your way back to your house, you couldn't resist running your fingers through your shorter locks. It felt so light and different, but you couldn't help but wonder what Renee would think.

Renee had been your girlfriend for a little over a year now. She had always loved your long hair and you were afraid she might be disappointed with your drastic change. But you also knew that she loved you no matter what and would support you in your decisions.

As you walked through the front door, Renee looked up from her book and her eyes widened in shock. You could tell she was trying to process your new hairstyle as she motioned for you to come closer. You hesitantly walked over and stood in front of her, waiting for her reaction.

'Oh my god, you got a haircut!' Renee exclaimed, reaching out to run her fingers through your shorter hair. 'You look amazing, I love it!'

You let out a sigh of relief and smiled at her enthusiasm. She pulled you down for a quick kiss, completely unfazed by your new appearance. As you sat down next to her, she asked you about your experience at the salon and how you were feeling about the change.

'I was so nervous, but I'm happy with how it turned out,' you said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

'I can tell, you look so confident and beautiful,' Renee replied, her eyes filled with admiration.

As the day went on, Renee couldn't stop admiring your new haircut. She constantly ran her fingers through your hair and planted kisses on your forehead. She couldn't get over how different you looked, but how it somehow made you even more attractive to her.

That night, as you cuddled up in bed, Renee looked at you with a serious expression. 'I have a secret to tell you,' she said, taking your hand in hers.

You sat up, wondering what was going on. 'What is it?' you asked, feeling a little anxious.

'I've always had a thing for women with short hair, especially wolfcuts,' she admitted, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. 'I never thought I would have a chance to date someone with that hairstyle, but then you went and surprised me.'

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. All this time, Renee had been secretly dreaming of being with someone like you. You couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence and happiness wash over you.

'Really? I had no idea,' you said, feeling a smile spread across your face.

'It's true, you look so fierce and sexy with this haircut,' she replied, pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

As the night went on, Renee couldn't keep her hands off of you. She kept saying how much she loved your new look and how it made her want you even more. This was a side of Renee you had never seen before, and you were loving it.

As the days went on, Renee continued to show her appreciation for your wolfcut. She would take you out on dates and introduce you to her friends, proudly showing you off as her badass girlfriend. You couldn't believe how much a simple haircut had changed not only your appearance, but also your relationship.

Looking back, you were grateful for the push you had to get out of your comfort zone and try something new. It had not only boosted your confidence, but it also brought you and Renee closer together. Who knew a little wolfcut could have such a big impact?

[firecooking]

Here me out, in the tugs fandom there are 3 depictions of captain zero

1. Shitty mustache ( looks like it's pencil drawn)

2. Mustache that curls into a zero ( it curling to represent how he's the antagonist and also it resembles a 0 )

3. No mustache ( because he's either terrible at facial hair or artist just didn't draw him with one)

In your au is there an inside joke that zero can't grow proper facial hair?

I have been a conosuier of human Captain Zero's for years, and that theory does hold water!

I think the only Zero I can think of until a few that cropped up around this year with a beard that was drawn more than once is Dan-the-countdowner's over on deviant art. God speed Dan you where like the only guy drawing human Captains for years.

Also, your asks are always on deck in my ask box when I have a few minutes of free time, please don't think I'm ignoring them, sometimes it takes me a while to formulate my answers. Also I don't often do drawing requests, but I make an exception for my TUGS au's!

Anyways, on to my au! There will be a detailed explanation under the read more but tldr:

When Zero was a younger man he always kept himself clean shaven, after his time in he army he attempts to grow a mustache, which was universally hated and every one regarded as a bad move. Post War 1918-pre Zip 1920 is lovingly known as the rat years in the photo albums that reside around Zero Marine Bigg City.

Before the Great War Captain Zero clean shaved every morning, brushed out, cared for, and styled his hair, and generally looked put together and intentional despite living with rather wild, wavy, longer hair. I picture him around a 2b/2c if he makes an attempt to care for it but when he's not doing anything particular its just a frizzy/fluffy 2a, he has pretty fine hair so it's never consistent unless Zero makes the effort. His hair keeping short also makes it less wavy than it might be if he let it grow out.

He'll never admit it but he never really liked looking anyone in the eyes as a young man, and he still doesn't like it. His long bangs covering his face made him feel more calm and helped hide the fact he was avoiding eye contact.

When he signed up for the draft, Star had made a few passing comments about his hair, but Zero never thought anything of it. He's always remembered Star had had longer hair, and the Army wasn't that different to the navy, right?

After he was drafted and was in training, one of the first things that happened was his hair was trimmed back to fit in his helmet better and his daily grooming routine was reprimanded as a waste of time for a medic. He was told to change it or lives would be lost. So change it he did. This change consisted of not doing his hair routine save for 'basic maintenance' [ie, none] as needed, and only shaving one or twice a week, his facial hair never did grow very fast and was rather sparse anyways.

When he got back from the war, he vowed to grow his hair back out, but he was a different man returning home.

With his new found free time in the mornings meant he could always find time for tea and some breakfast. Making for a slightly less 'tired bitch of a captain' according to his three tugboats [data gathered from eaves dropping on their nightly poker games]. With his shaving routine fully altered and him no longer being picky about being clean shaven, he decided to try out facial hair, his father always maintained a beard, so why couldn't he? Genetics were on his side! He often forgets he's adopted.

It never did grow in fast, or very full. Even with Zorran's best efforts to help, Zero never really had more than a slightly bushy mess. And his hair never really got back to it's same length/health after the war, he always blamed it on the fact it was cut back, and not the fact he was a depressed mess after Europe who had stopped grooming almost entirely for years.

When Zip was due to be christened, Zero finally went down to a barbers shop to get himself cleaned up for the photographs at the urging of his tugboats and mother.

The barber took one look at him and told him the mustache needed to go and that his hair was initially damaged from lack of care during the war and then exacerbated by lack of care after. Zero on a whim let the man do what he felt was right, it was a new decade after all.

Zero's up cut was initially very low maintenance for him and he quite preferred it that way. Zero didn't keep up steam with his hair care the same way he did before the war, but he could manage to brush it in the morning to keep it from getting as bad as it had been.

Once Zasha comes into his life and he realized she has much curlier hair than he ever did [a mix of 3 b/c], he starts to pick hair maintenance back up as he learns how to take care of her hair. He's gotta be a role model and a good father after all. He still never gets back to how he was before the war, but at least his hair is healthy instead of oily, frizzy, and out of place.

More importantly he's taking regular showers and grooming again. His tugs count both of those things as a win.

He never figures out why he was less particular about the way he looks after the war. He was living a life of crime before the war. In the army he never injured a soul or took a life, unlike his days collecting debts as an 'accountant.'

He doesn't see how the war to end all wars could have changed him.

[tekutiger]

Curly Hair

This is gonna be a weird post, I don't usually talk about stuff like this.

Most my life I've struggled with my hair. Yep, that's right. I said my hair.

When I was young, it was thin and stupidly long- drove me insane but my fam wouldn't let me cut it.

Then when I finally did reach an age where I had a say-so with what to do with it, I had it cut shoulder-length because I just didn't want it past my waist anymore.

At this point I was in early middle school and it seemed to be wavy.

Throughout middle school and high school I went through so many hair trends, varying from every mid length hair style (like, bobs) to super short (pixie cut) hair style you can think of. Still not knowing what to do.

Eventually my hair grew out and with it- curls? I never had curls before.

Trying to figure out how to tame curls has been a life endeavor.

It's not surprising. I've heard from many that they hadn't learned how to deal with their curly hair until they were well into their 60's or 70's. I was really hoping I wouldn't fall under that and would figure it out soon. Or at least young... er.

But hair products are not cheap. Hair tools are not cheap. And after a while, I feel like "I'm content" with where I'm at, and that's ok.

So then, what's the point of this post?

I learned recently I've always had the basic gist of the things I needed, I've just been going about it the wrong way. So, about 50/50.

No one in my family has curly hair, except for myself. I've been diving in blind this whole time (sans my BFF whose been trying to help me find info online).

🔸 Diffuser - Not necessary, but man do they do wonders. I only recently got one (for the first time in my life, might I add). The amount of curls and volume these things add to your hair is insane. Can you get a similar effect throwing your hair up in a t-shirt? I think so?

You're basically lifting the weight off of your curls when you use this, which is what you're doing with the t-shirt. I have similar effects when I take a shower and then take a nap straight away with my hair laid out, lol 😅

🔸 Products - Some kind of leave-in conditioner and Gel/Mousse/Hairspray. Okay so this seems like a no brainer. I've been using a leave-in conditioner forever but I usually skip the second thing. There was never any need for the second thing with the leave-in I was using and not using a diffuser. Arguably, it all depends on your hair.

For me, adding in the diffuser meant having to add in the gel also. My hair gets too frizzy otherwise.

Luckily, by word of mouth and only recently, I found some amazing products that are well known by people who have curly hair (Bounce Curl).

When I tried them for the first time, I was in complete awe and disbelief. "This is my hair? MY hair?" 😮 and I get to do my hair like this all the time now? Wear my hair like this all the time now? omgosh.

Of course you don't need a fancy diffuser, you can get like a 20-30$ one (there's a bunch on amazon or your local store). The one I got is mid-line cause I'm going to be using it like crazy and I'm the type that's like ~well lets work out how many days I'm going to use this in a year, how much this thing costs, do the math...~ and I consider it a long term investment.

🔸 Other Creams & Leave-ins - You can layer creams and leave-ins, but don't get too heavy with them because they'll weigh down your hair and the last thing you want to do is weigh down your curls or leave your hair feeling/looking greasy.

The Bounce Curl one there advises to only use a pea sized amount because it's protein rich, and to saturate it with a lot of water. It's all on the website and there's a really good web article-review on their products found here by Gabriella.

🔸 Sleep Bonnet - Not necessary, but nice to have. I got one of these years ago to prevent my brightly colored hair from rubbing off onto my pillow cases (and dakimakura. Yeah I'm an anime geek). Over time I stopped using it and forgot about it, but recently was reminded they exist and should use it again. They are so nice.

Not only do they keep your hair from getting all tangled and frizzy throughout the middle of the night, amidst all of your tossing and turning, they keep your hair off your neck and in my particular case, let's me sleep a little cooler (I run warm/hot).

And the next day, your hair still looks about 90-95% as good as the day prior. Just gotta spiff it up a bit. Refresh.

My BFF also recommends this Youtuber for people looking for more info on curly hair. I've only watched one vid of hers so far. I really need to watch more: ManesByMell

She also has a list of recommended things for people with curly hair, including the Sleep Bonnet I just bought and now use (which is this one: https://a.co/d/cbfKozq). There are a plethora of options out there if that one doesn't seem to fit you.

I wanted to post all this up because it took me SO LONG to get to this point, over just hair. I hope it helps someone else out there.

And I'm not a fan of selfies but if anyone is curious how my hair turned out:

I still need to figure out exactly how much gel to use 😅

Edit: So something I learned that works for me is to use the amount of hair gel I think I may need, or even less. And if that's not the right amount, after I style it, get a bit more gel and dilute it with some water in the palms of my hand and gently brush over my hair where it's still frizzy.

Don't get excessive. A little goes a long way. But this does the trick.

[nero-vanderwolf]

Tohru Adachi was many things.

Hunger, Emptiness. Turns out he was also a coward.

“Keijisan,” crooned the familiar voice. He had gotten used to that voice, velvety and soft, smooth and sweet. It belonged to a face he didn’t remember, accompanied by hands he couldn’t hold. “Do you regret your decision?”

Adachi sat in the fog, felt soft hands hold his cheeks. “No. That place has become an apocalypse. I’m glad I left when I did.”

The voice chuckled, dark and sweet. “You are wise, Tohru. I’m glad you chose to accompany me.”

A kiss against his cheek, soft and short.

“Do you remember my face, I wonder? Do you recall how my hair looked, or the colour of my eyes?” The voice asked, now closer than before. “Shall I show myself to you, so you may remember?”

Adachi wanted to reach out, to grasp the hands and hold them in his own. “Your eyes were scarlet. They looked tired, the same sort of tiredness and someone who had been alive long enough to recall the rise and fall of worlds.”

“And of my hair?”

“...Grey, if I remember correctly. Curly. I would run my fingers through it sometimes,” Adachi whispered.

The hands held the sides of his face, the feeling of a piercing gaze tingling under his skin.

“You remember more than I thought. Good. Shall I show myself now? So you may see if you are correct?”

Adachi forced his arms to move, to reach into the fog. He brushed hair away from a face, cupped a cheek, and said nothing.

Yet the fog cleared anyways. It drifted away, and he could see.

He was in a place that resembled his apartment, sitting on bone-white sheets on a Western-style bed. In front of him stood a woman fitting his description.

Her frizzy, dark hair curled slightly around her neck and ears, turned inward at the ends. Her scarlet eyes were darkly circled, but shone with life. Her hands had callouses on the palms, rough and bumpy- yet soothing. Her white robe, though plain, shimmered as though woven from mist itself.

“Izanami,” he whispered, hands still cupped against her cheeks.

His beloved pressed her forehead to his, a faint smile on her chapped lips.

“Yes, Keijisan. It’s me. Oh, how freeing it is to show myself to you again....” She murmured, hugging him close. “I love you, beloved.”

Adachi held her tightly, gripping her robe for fear that if he let go, she would vanish into the fog once again.

“I love you too...”

IZADACHI IS BACK!!!!! THE BONE WHITE SHEETS ON A WESTERN STYLE BED ARE BACK!!! THE EMPTINESS AND THE GODESS OF DEATH ARE BACK

adachi never forgets his love. i love how he remembers what izanami's hair looks like from the feeling of touching it... theyre so... i love how adachi's hunger is back. the wag he clings to izanami not wanting her to leave again.

[neege]

A Night to Remember!

A lesbian wolfstar prom au: part IV !!

Remus has a Cinderella moment ❤️

Here's a little bit more of the story! I'll probably add to this some more but I really just wanted to put Remus in a pretty dress hehe

After a scalding hot shower in which Remus pondered lightly drowning herself—just enough to put me in the hospital and skip tonight—she was now in Lily’s bedroom, once again sitting criss-cross next to a floor-length mirror with a couple of rollers propping up her bangs. She reached up to rub her eyes, only to remember the makeup Lily had just finished applying. Currently, she was weaving intricate twists into Remus's short hair to pull it out of her face. The pearly little pins being used to keep everything secure were spread out around her knees, and Remus watched her face scrunch up in concentration while she worked. 

“Almost done, I just want to stick a couple more of these towards the front of your head to balance it all out...”

Remus fidgeted, “It’s not too much?” Lily’s brow creased and Remus worried that she'd offended her, “What do you mean too much? I’ve only used three total on each side, it’s just gonna add a little something extra; your hair is super cute but definitely annoying to style." She messed with the pins a little. "It’s good you’re so low maintenance, otherwise you'd probably have a breakdown every time you got ready for school.” 

Remus laughed a little at that. “I know, thanks for doing this by the way. I know you still need to get dressed and—” Lily made a dismissive sound, “All I have left is the actual gown, you know I don’t mind doing this Remus. Come on, what’re you so worried about anyway?” 

“I don’t know. It’s just, the dress and the pearls and the makeup? It’s so different from what I usually wear and I’m just... I don’t know.”

Lily leaned back on her heels and looked at her, encouraging Remus to continue. “I just want to look... nice. I guess. I don't know, it's stupid.” 

Soft green eyes locked onto Remus’s own, and Lily’s hands came up to gently pull the curlers away, messing with her bangs until they sat just right. With one final once-over with hairspray, Lily clapped her hands together and grinned. “There! Done! Come on, what do you think?” 

Remus twisted around to peek at her reflection and almost didn’t recognize herself. Where she usually had frizzy, messy curls, everything was now smoothed and tamed into a neat, lovely style; the pearls standing out prettily in her brown hair. Her bangs swooped away from her eyes—which sparkled with a glittery eyeshadow the color of stardust. Her lashes looked long and dark, and her lips and cheeks were rosy in a way that differed from the embarrassed flush she usually rocked. 

“So?” Remus met Lily’s eyes in the mirror, “I mean, I think you look much better than nice. Ugh, Remus you look so beautiful!” Remus’s ears grew a little warm at the compliment. “Really? I mean, do you think everyone else will think so?” 

Will Sirius think so? 

Lily rolled her eyes, “Who cares what everyone else thinks! You look hot, go put your dress on so we can get going.” They both stood up and stretched, their bodies sore from sitting on the ground for so long. “I’ll call James and let him know we’re leaving in... what, fifteen minutes?” Remus nodded. “Perfect, that’ll give us plenty of time for photos before we leave. I’m gonna have my mom help with my dress. I never would’ve gotten one with a fucking corset top if I knew how annoying it was to get on.”

And with that, Remus was left to get dressed in Lily’s childhood bedroom. She slowly undressed from her ratty lounge-around clothes and pulled on her dress.

As soon as Remus had informed her mom that she’d wanted to go to prom this year, she immediately got the sewing machine out and went to work. Remus was nervous at first—scared that her mom would make something a little... old-fashioned—but she didn't want to hurt her mom's feelings. When she’d first started going to her new private school, the idea of homemade clothes was something the annoying, rich, stuck-up girls in Remus’s year couldn’t handle. They'd repeatedly poked fun at her knitted sweaters and hand-sewn dresses by asking her where she’d gotten her super cute overalls, only to giggle when she’d respond with “oh, actually my mom made it.”

Assholes.

There was a period of time where Remus actually stopped wearing anything that even looked homemade, and she doesn't think it escaped her mom's notice. Honestly, it had made Remus happy to see her get excited about a project again.

Remus moved side to side and watched the fabric of her dress shift in the mirror. It was a floor-length gown made of a pale yellow, shimmery material that billowed softly when she spun, and there was delicate beading around the neckline that glittered in the fairy lights hung on Lily’s wall. Her mom had said it would look pretty on the dance floor, and the image of swaying slowly in the middle of the gym with Sirius’s hands on her waist had made Remus blush deeply. 

Not bad, Remus thought, and let herself grin at the girl in front of her.

You look sort of... hot. Or something.

She giggled, and with one final twirl, turned away from her reflection and headed downstairs.

Lesbian Wolfstar Prom AU

I did it!!!! I uploaded my first work to AO3!!!!! It's just the same stuff I already posted here, just combined and edited a little bit. I decided to title it A Night to Remember because it reminds me of high school musical 3 ❤️

Let me know if you see any errors or anything since I'm still really kinda learning the site

[sag-dab-sar]

(This reply got way longer than I expected 😅 because me and my hair have never gotten along)

In 2018 I had a sickness that made me lose all my hair thickness and my curl patter went from like type 3b, (but I straightened it alllll the time ya know because curly girl hair bad 🙃) into the type 2 range with type 3 thrown in here and there... but unevenly its like no curl pattern exists and it just does its own weird thing. My hair curls again when its soaked in oil (not pretty); or if I can follow a "curly girl routine" as seen on YT it curls decent but I can't follow that labor intensive shit every 3 days or whatever; or if I cut it shorter the curls behave more but I hate having short hair. I also always suffered from the triangle curl look (flat head but very curly mid and bottom part) because I was terrified of getting layers that would help curl my hair at the top better. Annnnd I straightened it anyways and the layers that help curls look better look like shit when straightened.

After showers my hair can curl up if I brush it a particular way then keep it in like a scrunchy bun for 15-20 mins and let it down after a bit, thats a good hair day, BUT because of my aforementioned rocking in bed, I have to rip brush my hair while dry which if I had any curls from the previous day's shower they all get brushed out into ugly poof hair and if I don't take a new shower I'm just doomed to having the frizz poof that I hide in a bun. My hair knots to an extreme because of the rocking.

My hair was how people clocked me as mixed or decided it gave them permission to bluntly ask me ....and then had to exclaim how very odd and shocking it was. I'm white one side & African/Native Latine on the other. My Dominican aunts were the ones that braided my hair as a kid and I loved it but my Greek mom had to remove it when it was time to go back to school... not her fault, she didn't know how to care for my type of hair plus Irish Catholics would disapprove especially the colorful knocker twists that were used to secure them... then in late middle school/high school, to avoid "bad hair", I did 2 hours of hair straightening, prayed it wouldn't rain, and used like a sock to not burn my hand, that became the norm usually. Or really low buns if I didn't straighten that day because I wanted to hide it. I also had the rocking thing back then but my hair was much thicker and healthier to withstand it. I've hated my hair since preteen years (absolutely fuck you princess diaries) so it getting so horrendous after a sickness at the exact point in life where I was willing to jump into the "curly girl routine" and love myself with my curls was devastating.

My hope is that when I can take more frequent showers (aka better washes and conditions) and can focus on eating better food, the hair that grows in will be much healthier. I literally don't know if that (showers/better food) will ever happen. Sigh who knows.. braids help protect it, the hair that grows in is so much better because I'm never brushing it, its free to just... grow. If I ever reach a point where I can get them again the salon is probably going to be what I go with and ask if they can take them out for me gently (hopefully its a good salon that won't like rip the product out at the knot). As a disabled person the style is just extremely helpful but omg getting them in and out definitely isn't helpful. So I just stick to goodish hair days where a shower is possible (not common)... or ugly frizzy "messy" buns with a colored scrunchie (they look better than neat buns imo). My hair was already a difficult thing to deal with but now I have my worsening disability on top of it. I've never tried another protective style since I don't know how long my, now weak, hair could hold it. Depending on how thick my braider made them and how many of them she did, they could last up to 6 weeks. Once it was 8 weeks but I probably should have taken them out a bit before. Either way, not having to care for anything except scalp cleaning was extremely beneficial for my hygiene and honestly self esteem issues, with my severe fatigue. And .... I'm just sad now.

-dyslexia, not audio proof read-

Sometimes I'm just really angry at my new level of disability. Like... really angry. People say look on the bright side but fuck it sometimes I just want to let myself be angry.

I want box braids again. I wore them often. But with my disability level it seems like I can't now. And I'm angry and upset thinking about it.

They help my hair grow, and protect my hair in a major way. It protects my hair from my rocking in bed, which when I rock in bed (its an ND thing I can't simply stop it) I then have to like rip brush out my hair. No "curly girl" routine detangling will ever help the sheer mess of knots that happens from my rocking. This leads to a ton of shedding and breakage; you're supposed to detangle curly hair when wet but getting my nest of extremely tangled hair wet would make everything worse. So the box braids help protect it from that. I have not been able to grow my hair out with any significant length since I stopped wearing them and I can't stand my current hair length. They make going out super easy because my hair is basically ready to go when I roll out of bed (as long as I keep scalp clean) which helps lessen the fatigue that comes with "getting ready" enormously. It also makes showers easier so long as I stuff all my braids into a cap.

Problem is, it now seems like my disability will prevent me from ever getting them again. Right now I avoid them due to migraines and tender scalp caused by migraines. My neck problem has also gotten worse since the last time I wore them and boy if you wear your box braids in a pony tail you need some neck strength. But also uninstalling box braids I have to do myself and it is A Task™ , a task I'm not sure I can do with my new weakness level, new fatigue level, and wrist/hand problems.

Second, I get them done by a lovely woman from Sierra Leon who does it as a side job out of her home, not a salon. So I have to sit in a dining room chair for 5-8 hours (depends on what size she chooses to make my braids and if she has her daughters to help), which is significantly bad for my butt/back/spine. I could bring in my wheelchair cushion to sit on or ask to bring my wheelchair in but I'm too nervous to ask that of her. I'm embarrassed and also don't want to impose on her. I could try a salon but many salons in my area are not wheelchair accessible anyways, my favorite nail salon isn't.

Also while I did get compliments (usually from girls who also have braids or when I wore a non natural color) I also got disdainful stares. And its like— now I have a wheelchair, colored glasses, funky socks.... do I want to give them yet another reason to look at me in a bad way? I shouldn't care but sometimes I do.

I couldn't get them right now anyways due to my spine being a bratty leaking bitch that can't sit up for longer than maybe an hour. But I just keep thinking of all the things my disability is preventing me from doing—like my love of long nails too—and its so upsetting. I really fucking want them. I hate what 2022 did to me it feels like it stripped all my favorite things from me.

Maybe, just maybe, if I'm able to get the spine surgery and PT I'd be able to wear them again. I realize its an incredibly vain thing to be upset over but it just hurts knowing my disability does things like this.

*Disclaimer: I'm mixed and have white passing privilege. I got my braids as a kid (but couldn't wear them to school) and then eventually as an adult. I understand hair discrimination exists and I'm not trying to appropriate them as a trendy fashion statement at the expense of black people, they do genuinely help and protect my hair— as long as I remove them correctly.

[gryffindors-weasley]

Distractions

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: A rainy Sunday evening is spent with Draco.

Warnings: minor injury, brief mentions of blood, mentions of the dark mark, fluff

(not my gif)

It was a rather dreary Sunday evening, rain pelting fast to the ground as it had done all day. Although it wasn’t the kind of weather you’d want to be caught outside in, it was perfectly ideal for the place you were headed. The greenhouse.

You followed a pace or two behind Draco, his hand enveloping yours and a book held in your other as you walked in comfortable silence. The trip there could be done blindfolded at this point, the same path down the near unfrequented halls every Saturday and Sunday at five o’clock in the evening. It was a routine that first started halfway through fifth year, though his fondness for it dates back farther than that.

Every weekend Draco can be found tending to every plant that resided in the large glass structure, a responsibility Professor Sprout bestowed upon him without reluctance. Granted, he wasn’t very gentle or mindful of the delicate greenery and herbs in his early years, which is something he regrets looking back at it. But when he showed up unannounced outside her classroom door after hours a few years later, she had a sneaking suspicion the Slytherin wasn’t quite as insufferable as he lets on.

Despite his fondness and growing interest in the vast varieties of magical plants and the potions they can be crafted into, it’s a piece of himself he wants to be kept secret. Not that he’s embarrassed of such things, but as time goes on he finds it better to leave things of sentimental value out of the public eye. That being said, should anyone cast a lingering glance his way on his route, he’s quick to shoot them a defensive glare to stave off prying eyes.

Now, in just under a year and a half, he’s become one of the finest caretakers of her beloved plants she’s ever seen.

The moment you stepped into the greenhouse the downpour became more apparent than before, creating a steady tapping against the old glass. Condensation beaded on every windowpane it could access, and the puffy gray clouds were visible at every angle, creating the perfect ambience to read your book.

Draco set off to work almost immediately, shrugging off his robe and handing it to you with a kiss on the cheek before reading over the checklist Professor Sprout had made for him.

He started off with watering the herbs she’d listed, spraying their leaves first before watering at the base. He quickly found that to be a more effective way of doing things, giving the remaining water to the select few that could use more hydration.

It was a trick he’d seen quite a few gardeners use on his mother’s garden at the Manor, and the meticulously placed flowers and shrubbery seemed to respond well to the technique. That amongst many other things were something he observed in his days spent at home on the summer break. The acres of well manicured landscaping providing ample opportunities to escape and spend his time around something other than the four walls of his bedroom.

Once finished, he moved to clean up around the place, giving you a sweet smile any time he passed by you even if you hadn’t seen it. But the times you did catch his eye, the tips of his ears would burn a pale pink.

He picked up a couple pairs of gardening shears left out and a few brooms that lay knocked over from messy second year students, putting miscellaneous dragon-skin gloves back in their rightful cabinet with the others. Some might consider this to be rather boring, especially on a weekend where there were better things to be spent doing on the short break from schoolwork. But the distraction was something Draco needed and it was one he enjoyed, something he found he could use a bit more of lately.

Repotting mandrakes was last on the very brief list. They weren’t used very often anymore, not like they had been in second year. But if the need arised should anyone be petrified, it was good to have a few on hand for potions.

He undid the buttons on the cuffs of his white dress shirt before shoving the slightly wrinkled sleeves up to rest at his elbows. However, he seemed to have briefly forgotten the mark swirling across the pale skin on his forearm, promptly yanking that sleeve back down before grabbing the ceramic pots and a new bag of soil with a frown. He tried not to let it cloud up his train of thought and sour his mood.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to his inner turmoil you had long since made yourself comfortable perched on a vacant spot on one of the old wooden tables, book cracked open in your hands. It hadn’t taken you very long to become immersed in it, as books usually do to its readers. And you could’ve sworn you might’ve heard Draco’s voice, whether or not it was directed at you, you were unsure.

A minute or two later he finished his preparations and glanced over his shoulder at you, sighing at the sight. The earmuffs he’d asked you to put on just moments ago still sat where he’d set them down on your lap, your eyes fixed on your book as his robe sat wrapped around your shoulders to combat the chilly evening weather. He walked the few feet over to you, picking them up.

“Sometimes I think you choose to tune me out, love,” Draco says, placing your earmuffs on your head gently, smiling when you lifted your head from your book. You offer a smile as your cheeks flush a soft pink.

“Sometimes,” you remark with a soft laugh, gaze returning to find the line you left off at. Truthfully you were beginning to lose focus anyway.

He set off to the task at hand with a smile, making short work of it though there’s only so much those earmuffs can do to filter out the shrill cries of these plants. It was a dreaded detail he hadn’t forgotten in his second year, always wondering how such a small creature could produce such a deafeningly fatal sound.

You decided any quality reading wouldn’t be achievable beyond that point, especially not with the humidity curling and warping the pages you tried to read from. It definitely was not because of the blonde who stood paces away from you, the very same humidity turning his once formally styled hair to mussed waves of platinum. Regardless of the reasons or their importance, you closed your book and made your way over to him.

“Do you need a hand with anything?” You ask, looking over the vast array of greenery before looking up at him. He pondered for a moment as he set the scrap piece of parchment down and rubbed his hands together to rid them of dirt.

“Could you take those extra pots to the storage cupboard?” He asks kindly, pointing to the two spares that sat untouched. You nod, grabbing the set from the table. “Thank you, darling.”

The frequently used name had still managed to make your heart flutter, your flustered distraction having you trip on the leg of the table. The pots in your hand were sent flying unceremoniously to the ground with a clatter, cheeks reddening from your blunder as you instinctively grabbed for them. As your finger ran along a sharp edge you quickly recoil with a surprised gasp, Draco tugging you to your feet in concern of the situation before you could fully hit the ground.

“Careful, Love!” He scolds softly, pulling your arm from your chest gently to see just what kind of accident he was dealing with.

Draco was quick to rush off to a cabinet on the far end of the greenhouse, freshly stocked with medicinal potions, some of which he’d gotten to make himself. He returned shortly with a small glass bottle, and he gently blotted at the fairly superficial cut running along the length of your pointer finger.

“What is that?” You ask softly as he gingerly holds your shaky hand, depositing a few drops over it. It stung a bit unexpectedly and your eyes widen a fraction as you watch it quickly heal as if nothing was ever there, curious gaze bouncing up to Draco. You tried not to pay any mind to the blonde strand that stuck adorablely to his forehead and focus on his words.

“It’s Essence of Dittany. I’ve just made this batch last week and it seems to be quite satisfactory,” he says, a small yet proud smile on his lips as he inspects your newly healed finger.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” you say with a soft laugh.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he quips, earning himself a pointed stare as you raised a questioning brow at him. He laughs as he puts the tiny bottle back where he got it, the shards of terra-cotta easily piecing themselves back together with a simple motion of his hand. “I’m only kidding, my love.”

You settle as he pulls you close by a gentle grip on your hands, releasing one to tuck your newly frizzy hair behind your ear. It was true, you were the only person to know most everything about him. Not one person in his social circle, not even his mother, knew his ins and outs like you and the thought both terrified him and comforted him all the same. But he knew you’d never cast an ounce of judgement his way. Not even for the mark ghosting over his arm that haunted his very thoughts the moment it was formed.

His calloused hand came to rest on your cheek, thumb brushing over flushed skin as his gray eyes took in every feature. The freckles that could only been seen in a close proximity, the curve of your lashes, the natural shade of pink coloring your bare lips. Soon he dipped down and kissed you, unable to refrain from doing so a moment longer. He always finds himself unable to resist it. You seem to enchant him, stronger than any love potion or magical spell could ever manage to evoke. And while true love is a scary thought, he doesn’t have it in him fight the very grip it has on his racing heart.

He parted from you reluctantly upon the sound of unfamiliar footfalls approaching, grabbing your hand with a laugh as the two of you run off towards the other exit hand in hand. The forgotten rain came as an icy shock once you ran out into it, but such inconveniences weren’t important when he pulls you in for another rain soaked kiss.

[escapewithbts]

Unexpected Envy (Part Two) - Jimin

This ending is incredibly cheesy and fluffy (dare I say almost cringey haha) but I hope you enjoy it :)

Part One

-------------------------------------

*Jimin third person POV*

Jimin couldn't stop worrying the whole way home. He didn't realize how tightly he was grasping onto the steering wheel of his Porsche until he parked and took his hands off it, seeing that his knuckles and fingers were bright white.

He wasn't sure why he was feeling the way he was; he just knew he felt irritated, sad and concerned all at once.

When he got inside he removed his make up and colored contacts and changed into sweatpants and a white t shirt. He kept checking his phone, seeing if you needed rescuing or if Yeonjun had gotten on your nerves. But there always was nothing. Just the Mickey Mouse face of his lock screen wallpaper staring back at him, making him feel like he was being mocked.

He took his phone into his room and laid on his bed, staring up at the white ceiling. The image of you tonight in that beautiful black dress that complimented your body so well floated into his mind. It made him smile. But then he saw you again, gripping Yeonjun's forearm, telling him you weren't leaving, picking Yeonjun over him. He suddenly felt nauseous and his heart started pounding. He checked his phone again, paying extra attention to the time. It was already 11:30pm... how much longer were you going to be out? When would you be home?

Then a horrible thought entered his mind. What if you didn't come back to the apartment tonight at all? What if Yeonjun had charmed his way into you and took you to his place? Jimin had never known you to have a one night stand, or sleep with someone you just met, but what if he didn’t know you as well as he thought he did? What if things had changed?

He shot up from his bed and felt a sudden wave of dizziness, the blood rushing to his head. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He couldn't just lay here and think about you with Yeonjun. He was going to drive himself mad.

Still, he couldn't help but type a text message to you:

‘11:32 p.m.

Hey, I made it home. Are you ok? Let me know if I need to come get you.’

He didn't care if he sounded needy. He felt needy. He just wanted you to know that he cared...

...and make sure you knew he would come get you instead of have you end up going somewhere else...

Jimin then locked his phone and made a promise to himself not to check it unless he felt it vibrate in his pocket. He strolled out to the living room, sat on the couch and turned on the tv, attempting to clear his mind of all his confusing worries. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until you were home. He would wait up until morning for you to come back if he had to.

*Your POV*

Around 1:30am you quietly unlocked the front door to Jimin's apartment, assuming he was asleep as you hadn't heard from him for 2 hours or so. The door clicked shut behind you; the light from the hallway fading and leaving you in pitch darkness. You hadn't memorized the layout of his place yet, so you grabbed your phone out of your coat pocket and turned on the flashlight.

As soon as you raised it up to illuminate your way, a face appeared in the bright white light.

You let out a yelp, backing up and slamming your elbow on the doorknob behind you.

"Ow, Jesus, Jimin, what the hell?" you cried out, holding the spot that had been hit, "I thought you would be asleep."

"I wanted to make sure you made it back okay." he responded flatly.

"Well I had until now," you mumbled, rubbing your elbow.

Jimin retreated further into the apartment and you followed, stumbling a little as you had had a few more drinks at the party and their effects hadn't completely worn off yet.

As you walked into the living room you realized how much your feet were killing you from all the dancing you had done in the heels you were wearing. You bent down to take them off, but suddenly felt dizzy and lost your balance. You were sure you were about to make a fool of yourself and fall onto the floor, but before you knew it you felt strong hands grab hold of your waist before you could fall. You looked up into Jimin's face just inches from yours. He looked concerned and a little annoyed. Your cheeks flushed and you looked away.

"Are you drunk?" he suddenly asked, letting go of you and stepping back.

You shook your head and stepped out of your shoes, blisters already forming on your feet. You shrugged.

"No, I mean, maybe a little... I-I don't know. I feel fine."

Jimin sighed and ran a hand through his ash blonde hair.

"You should have just left when I did, (y/n)." he said in a disappointed manner.

There he was, sounding so controlling again. What was his problem?

"I told you, I wanted to stay. I had fun."

Jimin looked at you, his expression cold as ice.

"So you had fun with Yeonjun?"

You nodded.

"Yes. Yes I did. He's very sweet, and polite and a great dancer."

Were you purposely describing Yeonjun similarly to Jimin to try and make him jealous? Maybe. The slight buzz you still had was clouding your judgement.

Jimin's eyes narrowed and he licked his lips while running his hand through his hair again. Then he turned away and sat back down on the couch.

"Do you think you'll see him again?" he muttered quietly, not making eye contact.

Although he had offered, you hadn't taken Yeonjun's number, hadn't made any plans to see him again. It was just all too soon. You didn't think it would have been fair to him. Your heart still belonged to someone else.

Someone else sitting right in front of you.

You shrugged.

"Maybe."

Jimin responded with a “hmm”, just staring at the tv in front of him that was playing late night infomercials.

There was a pause as you just stared at your best friend, unable to read his emotions.

"Okay, well, thank you Jimin-ah, for having me as your plus one tonight. I'm really tired so I think I'll head to bed. Thanks for waiting up for me, too." You gave him a small smile before turning around and heading into the guest room, heels in hand.

You changed into pajama shorts and an oversized t shirt, then went into the adjoining bathroom to get ready for bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror; much of your make up had faded from time and the sweat of the dance floor. Your once perfectly styled hair was now slightly wavy and frizzy. Your cheeks were red from the effects of all the alcohol. You sighed, grabbing a make up remover wipe and swiping it across your face until your natural self was looking back at you. At that moment you couldn't help the thoughts that began to creep into your mind.

Yeonjun was clearly interested in me. He's an idol, too. He's willing to try. Why won't Jimin? Why doesn't Jimin want me?

Your eyes started brimming with tears, you cheeks getting blotchier. How were you supposed to continue being Jimin's friend when you felt this way? Everything just felt so awkward. You wished you could just go back in time and stop yourself from telling him how you truly felt.

A sudden knock at the bedroom door interrupted your thoughts. You quickly splashed some cold water on your hot face, attempting to hide the fact that you were almost in tears.

"Come in," you said softly, walking back out into the bedroom.

Jimin opened the door slightly before stepping inside.

"Hey," he said, looking at the floor.

"Hi." you replied, your heart pounding.

What did he want? Was he here to finally talk about how off your friendship had been over the past week? Did he not want to be your friend anymore? Your mind was going a mile a minute.

He walked over and sat on the end of the bed, still not looking up at you. He ran a hand through his hair again and then rubbed his face before speaking.

"I-I don't..."

Don't say it, don't say it.

"I don't want you to see Yeonjun again."

Huh?

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

He finally looked up at you, a look of plea in his dark brown eyes.

"I don't.... really know what to say, Jimin. It's not really your call to make."

He cocked his head and knitted his brows together.

"You don't want your best friend's opinion?"

You scoffed.

"First of all, it sounded more like a demand. Secondly, in this regard, who I see and who I don't... well I don't really think your opinion is valid. Especially since-"

You stopped before you could finish, feeling your stomach get in knots.

"Since what?" Jimin asked softly.

You folded your arms across your chest and looked at the floor.

"Come on, Jimin, you know what..."

He shook his head.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, (y/n)."

He couldn't be serious.

You suddenly felt furious, all your emotions building up inside at once.

"Jimin! Come on! You-you don't want me! Therefore who I choose to date and not to date is really not up to you! You can't keep me from other people just because you don't want to be with me!"

You couldn't stop the tears from falling this time. Jimin immediately rushed to you and pulled you into arms, your head laying in the crook of his neck. You hated that you let yourself be comforted by him, but it felt so familiar and safe.

"(y/n), look at me. Please look at me."

You looked up at his handsome face, his full lips, the strands of bangs that fell over his eyes. He looked sad, almost like he was going to cry, too.

He cupped your cheek in his hand, wiping a tear away with the pad of his thumb.

"I-I do want you (y/n). I do want to be with you," he closed his eyes tightly, "Aiish, if you even knew how jealous of Yeonjun I was tonight. How happy you seemed dancing with him. How he made you smile. I miss that, I miss us! And I don't want you to ever dance with another man like that again or-or have him make you smile like that. It killed me. I was a mess when I left without you. All I could see in my mind was the two of you together, wondering if you were even going to come home tonight. I was afraid I had lost you as a best friend, which only made me realize how much I want to truly be with you, how much I wanted it to be me and only me..." he trailed off, burying his face in his hands to hide the tears that had welled up in them.

You stared at him in shock through blurry tears.

"But Jimin..." you quivered, "what about what you said last week? About how I deserve someone who can focus fully on me? "

Jimin shook his head and looked into your eyes, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.

“I think... I was afraid, because you do deserve someone who can do that... and so much more. But (y/n), I want to try. Please. You mean the world to me, and I don't ever want to feel the way I felt tonight again. We've managed to stay friends all this time, and now with you closer than ever, I really think we can make it work. I want to give you my everything because you are my everything."

You nodded slowly, letting a few more tears falling down your warm cheeks.

Jimin lifted your chin to look at him.

"I love you, (y/n). And I'm so sorry this is what it took to make me realize it."

You stared up into his dark eyes, hope and sincerity behind them.

“I love you, too, Jimin. But I need you to be sure you’re capable of this, that this is truly what you want. A week ago you didn’t feel this way, right? And I can’t lose our friendship, I can’t lose you. I don’t want to get hurt.”

He bit his bottom lip and looked deep into your eyes, a pained expression on his face.

“I won’t hurt you. Never. This is what I want. I want you. Please, (y/n), give me a chance to prove it to you.”

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and looked down at your lips before slowly pulling your face to meet his. You loved the feeling of his soft, luscious lips on yours. It was something you had only ever dreamed of for so long. It felt so comfortable, yet so passionate and new.

You pulled away and was met with a big Jimin smile. You couldn't help smiling back.

He laid his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

“I will strive to make you the happiest person in the world, (y/n). Every day. Okay?” he whispered to you.

You nodded against him, relishing in the feeling of being this close to the man you had loved for so long.

Then you pulled back, a grin on your face.

"Do you think we should thank Yeonjun? Send him some flowers or-or a collection of BTS CDs?" you joked.

Jimin laughed, crashing his body into yours in typical Jimin fashion.

Then he gently grabbed your face again and shook his head back and forth.

"No, no,no," he giggled, "not a chance."

And you two shared another wonderful kiss.

*

Masterlist

[kjack89]

Kiss 43 (pressed to the top of the head) for Enjolras/Grantaire? :)

“Grantaire, I need your help.”

Grantaire appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, looking equal parts amused and self-satisfied as he looked at Enjolras who was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. “Well of course you do, but I never thought I’d live to hear you admit it.”

Enjolras gave him a look. “Hilarious,” he said dryly. “Are you going to help me or what?”

“That depends entirely on what you need my help for.”

Enjolras sighed and ran a hand through his hair – or at least, he tried to, though his fingers got snagged in his curls and he wound up yanking them through and wincing as he did. “It’s my hair,” he said with a sigh.

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Your hair,” he repeated.

“Yeah, my hair,” Enjolras said, gesturing frustratedly at his frizzy curls. “It’s driving me crazy! It’s in that weird place where it’s so long it keeps falling in my face but it’s too short to pull back.”

“So get a haircut,” Grantaire said, like it was obvious.

Which it was, and Enjolras ground his teeth together. “Oh, right, because I’m going to walk into a Great Clips in the middle of a pandemic and demand a haircut,” he snapped.

Grantaire hesitated, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Please tell me you don’t actually get your hair cut at Great Clips.”.

“Well sometimes I go to Sport Clips…”

“Ok, after COVID is over, I’m introducing you to my barber,” Grantaire said. “In the meantime, have you tried styling it differently? We can buy some bobby pins or bows or sparkly barrettes—”

Enjolras shook his head. “As much as I love flouting gender roles, I’m not entirely sure now is the time.”

“Fine, so what do you want to do?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras worried his lower lip between his teeth for a moment before blurting, “I want to shave my head. Or, more accurately, I want you to shave my head.”

“No.”

Grantaire didn’t even pause to consider it, and Enjolras sighed. “Grantaire—”

“No, I’m not letting you shave your head!”

Enjolras cocked his head, his tone turning cool. “Excuse me, letting me?”

Grantaire waved a dismissive hand. “Poor choice of words aside, I love your hair. You love your hair. You do not actually want to shave your head. And you especially do not want me to shave your head.”

Enjolras lifted his chin stubbornly. “Yes I do.”

“And when you regret it tomorrow and want to blame me?” Grantaire challenged.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “That’s not going to happen,” he scoffed.

Grantaire gave him a look. “You say that now, but who got blamed for letting Bahorel talk you into getting a tattoo?”

Enjolras matched both his look and his tone. “You were literally the one who got me drunk and told me it was a good idea.”

“Ok, I may have bought you the shots, but I did not make you drink them,” Grantaire said. “And besides, I stand by telling you it was a good decision because I love your guillotine tattoo.”

Enjolras seized on the opportunity to return to the topic at hand. “So do I, which is why I think this may end up being a good idea, too.”

Grantaire hesitated. “What if you have a weirdly shaped head?”

“What?”

“If you shave your hair, you may end up realizing that you have a weirdly shaped head, and by then, it’s too late, and you have to go out for several weeks with the lumpy head. Do you want that?”

Enjolras stared at him. “Grantaire, we’re in the middle of a pandemic. I think I can handle the grocery store cashier and the occasional delivery driver seeing my oddly shaped head. Besides, it’s also December, so chances are I’ll be wearing a hat.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Great, so you’ll look like you have cancer. Is that what you want? You want to take the attention away from the actual cancer patients who need it?”

Enjolras frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Ok, what is this actually about?”

“The cancer patients, Enj,” Grantaire said patiently. “I just said that.” Enjolras’s expression didn’t flicker and Grantaire sighed. “Fine. It’s about the fact that I love your hair.”

“You said that already.”

Grantaire sighed again. “No, I know, but I mean…”

“Are you afraid you won’t be attracted to me anymore without the hair?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire snorted. “God, no.” 

“Then what?”

“You’re going to think it’s stupid,” Grantaire hedged.

“I promise I won’t,” Enjolras said, before hesitating. “Wait, unless...is it a sex thing?”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “What would you do if it was?”

Enjolras’s mouth opened and closed again and he shrugged somewhat helplessly. “Honestly I have no idea.”

Grantaire laughed lightly. “Well luckily, it’s not a sex thing.” He hesitated once more, but this time, when he spoke again, it was with a reluctance that sounded to Enjolras like honesty. “I love your hair because it’s the one imperfect thing about you.”

Enjolras frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

Grantaire sighed and leaned against the bathroom sink. “I mean I wake up every morning and the first thing I see when I look at you isn’t your gorgeous eyes or your beautiful lips or that perfect bone structure. I wake up and I see your golden rat’s nest sticking up in eighteen different directions.” Enjolras raised a defensive hand to pat his hair but Grantaire caught his hand, twining their fingers together. “And I love seeing that. I love seeing you, the real you, the you that only I get to see.”

Enjolras nodded slowly. “I guess I can understand that.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Grantaire teased.

Enjolras half-smiled. “But Grantaire, you get to see the imperfect me in a hundred different ways every day. I mean, look, I haven’t worn real pants in six months. Do you know what Courfeyrac would pay to see me in ratty, stained sweatpants?”

Grantaire looked pointedly at Enjolras’s crotch. “Honey, it’s not the ratty or stained part he wants to see, trust me.”

“You know what I mean,” Enjolras snapped, flushing, though he carried doggedly on. “You get to see me in all kinds of imperfect ways. Hell, if it weren’t for the hair, you’d get to see me wake up in a puddle of my own drool.”

Grantaire wrinkled his nose. “That’s disgusting.”

“If you think that’s disgusting, don’t forget: you get to hear me fart in my sleep.”

Grantaire winced. “I love you, but we really need to differentiate here between things that are imperfect and sexy, and things that are imperfect and never need to be discussed.”

Enjolras grinned triumphantly. “Fine, but that doesn’t change the fact that you get to see me in ways no one else does, and that won’t change if I have a shaved head.”

Grantaire made a face but didn’t outright refute him. “I guess you’re right…”

Enjolras squeezed Grantaire’s hand. “Besides, like you said, you may get to wake up every morning and see that I have a weird, lumpy head.”

Grantaire laughed. “Now that is a thought,” he said, bending down to press a kiss to the top of Enjolras’s head. “Fine. For the potential of your lumpy, misshapen head, I’ll do it. I will shave your head.”

“Great,” Enjolras said bracingly. “Let’s get started.”

Grantaire looked amused. “Not so fast, I need to go get my clippers.”

Enjolras frowned, picking up the clippers from the sink. “What’s wrong with these clippers that I found under the sink?”

Grantaire eyed them warily. “Trust me, you don’t want me to use those.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re for trimming pubic hair.”

Enjolras dropped the clippers. “Gonna file that one under imperfect and never needs to be discussed.”

“Damn right,” Grantaire said, kissing him on top of the head once more.

[midorichan12]

*This is a non-art appreciation post since this is the first time I've felt good about myself for so many years*

"Rebond your hair!"

"You use too much shampoo!"

"It's so frizzy, go to a salon!"

Since I was 10yo, I've been struggling to style my hair according to everyone's wishes. I have frizzy, wavy to curly, naturally maroon hair. My parents even thought I was overdosing my hair with shampoo. I was doing it because everyone, including my parents, hated my hair. By the way, it's genetics.

I tried using every commercial shampoo and conditioner, even rebonded it once (and I hated it), tied it tight, and cut it short so that they wouldn't criticize my hair every single time my family and relatives see me. I literally looked a witch whenever I don't tie my hair. I hated my hair.

Not until I met my SO in college. He loved styling my hair and said he liked my voluminous hairstyle unlike those rebonded hairstyle. I never thought in my life that someone will actually love my frizzy, voluminous hair.

Now, I'm 27yo, for the 1st time ever, that I loved my hair. Although I have lost lots of hair volume since I was diagnosed with #depression and #anxiety . Hair Loss is also a symptom and it's just tip of the iceberg to my condition.

I think my SO helped me love my hair. Also, the therapy and medicines are really helpful (hella expensive tho). I never thought that I would be accepting my naturally wavy, maroon hair. I have really REALLY low self-esteem and I truly despise myself and body. For the 1st time in 27 years of my life I accepted something about myself!

Slow recovery is still recovery. I know my journey to healing will take some time. But let's start with this: accepting my natural hair + plus full bangs too. Don't care about everybody else's opinion about full bangs. I love it. 🥰

[write-1t-bop-1t]

Crashed and found

Entry for the secret shifters G/T Fanfic swap @secret-shifters

https://secret-shifters.tumblr.com/

Gift for: @syndicate-speck   https://syndicate-speck.tumblr.com/

Tiny astronaut crash lands on a giant planet or vice versa, sci-fi gulliver's travels style

Triggers/tropes to avoid: Spiders, I guess

Relationship types to avoid: None per se, feel free to go ham (but keep it sfw obviously)

Fluff or angst: No preference

I take a deep breath, running my hand through my hair and ruffling it around before breathing out and spinning in my chair to face the screen, reaching out my hand to press record,

“Hello again everybody, Ryan Harte here for log number 637, day 453 at 6:23pm Eastern time. Everything on board the ship has been running smoothly as always, no further difficulties involving the damaged engine. Alexander was able to complete the repairs with no further issue. We are a few days away from the designated drop zone, planet classification #677, and will be ready for retraction shortly after.”

I give another short sigh as I record my report, having done this almost everyday for the past year and a half. It gave time meaning, and at least it was something to do other than annoy my travel partner. I look back at the screen, smiling up at it.

“I can’t believe long it’s been…. I can’t wait for my paycheck when I get back to earth,” I say, giving a little laugh to myself.

“There is currently nothing to report on the mission, and the current planet objection is in visual range from the ship. We should-”

I get cut off from my video when the door to my room opens with a loud whoosh noise, startling me as I almost fall out of my chair, letting out a less than manly squeak of surprise.

I look over to see my travel buddy, Alexander, standing at my door with a bored expression.

“Oh, were you doing one of your diary entries again, pipsqueak?”

He says with a teasing tone, making my face turn red as I grab something off the floor and chuck it at him.

“Shove it! It’s not a diary and you know that!”

I grumble, throwing more things at him while he laughs to himself. He surrenders, putting his hands up to guard his hair, the long black strands now slightly frizzy from having collided with whatever I could have reached for moments before. He laughs again before going back to exit my room before stopping and leaning back in,

‘Well, whenever you're done with your ‘Not-Diary’, I need you to come to the front of the ship. We’ve got better visuals on the planet and I need to talk to you about it, alright?”

He says, looking at me expectantly. I quickly nod and make a shooing motion with my hands to get him to leave quickly. He laughs again before leaving me alone in my room once more. Once he leaves, a large smile breaks out on my face, as I bounce lightly with excitement. This is my first ever, real life space recon mission.

After getting into the space program at 16, with a scholarship in science, I’d always wanted to get into recon and the exploration field. I Graduated with honors at age 18, along with Alexander who graduated from ship repairs and navigation, one of the top in his class.

The planet we were headed to was said to show signs of holding valuable resources which I am supposed to gather and bring back with us to earth. Nothing was really known about the planet itself, as no one besides us has ever been this close to it. All that was really known is its size, estimated to be around 1000x bigger than our sun. But since no one knows much about it, we are being paid very handsomely once we get back home in the next year. I can’t wait to see my dad again.

I smile back at the camera,

“Well, as you heard, we are soon approaching the planet, and I am needed for the evaluation. This is Ryan Harte signing out. Love you dad!”

I say before stopping the recording and pressing the send button, to send the message back to earth’s space station, as well as so that they could send it to my dad so he knows everything was okay up here. I never want him to worry about me, so I make sure to record these often.

After sending I quickly jump up, grabbing a simple gray hoodie that had previously been thrown at Alex and throw it over my head before dashing out of the room towards the front of the ship, looking like a kid in a candy store.

My old shoes squeak against the metal as I reach the door, I bounce in place as the door rush’s open and I run inside, almost colliding with Alexander as he looks out at the black space outside the spaceship through the paned glass.

¨Present!¨ I say out loud, with a big smile on my face, causing him to roll his eyes. He motions over to the planet, and I look over to see that we’ve gotten considerably closer to it. We’re still around 2-3 days away from getting close enough to be able to dispatch my shuttle and collect parts of the large gray planet’s resources. Even so, it's already around 9000x bigger than our ship, considering our ship is about the size of a normal sized university, having to hold enough food to feed us for the to and from trips.

“Whoa.” I say mostly to myself, and Alexander nods along with me. 

He points to a lighter gray spot on the planet, “I can’t seem to get a proper scan on the planet due to the storm like clouds surrounding it, but from what I can get, that area should be the safest place for you to land. I’m going to re-route slightly to get us closer to that area, I just wanted to let you know. That okay, pipsqueak?” He says looking back at me.

I nod quickly, my excitement not faltering. 

“But why is that area safer?” I ask, just to feed my curiosity.

He explains that the area seems to be more flat than the other areas on the planet, making it easier for my shuttle to land on, along with the fact that the other, darker areas, seem to be covered with a type of dark and cloudy sky that might cause trouble with communication and engines when entering the atmosphere.

I of course, have no idea what he’s saying but nod along anyways. It probably wasn’t important anyways.

After his little safety spiel that I’ve heard a hundred times, we decide that it’s time for dinner. We made it a tradition when we started our space travel to eat dinner together as a bonding exercise, as well as to help to know each other. Now it’s just become a daily thing we do every ‘night’, to just talk and hang out. It’s not much, but when the other person with you is the only person you’ve had human interactions with for the past 2 years, you learn to appreciate it.

We walk down and make it to the ‘lobby’ where we eat, which is just an empty room with a table and two chairs melded to the ground. Bland but it works, though I wish the space program would get us better chairs.

Alexander goes and grabs our dinner, dehydrated pork and some yellow stuff I don’t bother asking about, as we talk about our days while occasionally teasing and making fun of each other. We laugh and joke around before cleaning up, saying our goodnights and getting ready for bed.

Alexander stops me before I can leave and re-explains the safety measures, protocols and blah blah blah about the exploration in a few days. I wave him off, laughing, before heading up to my room to go to bed.

As I enter, I stretch, letting out a yawn as I kick off my shoes, not caring where they go. I walk over and check my tablet to make sure my last message went through. It did, but it hasn’t been seen yet. Darn, I was hoping I would get another message from my dad, but I guess I’ll get it tomorrow.

I mess up my hair with both of my hands before getting into bed, the thoughts of finally getting to go to the planet we had been heading to for the last years and being able to finally go home and see my dad fill my mind as I quickly fall asleep.

-

The next few days go by in a blur, until I’m standing in the cockpit, struggling to pull on my gray space suit. Alexander sighs before helping me put it on, scolding me like a parent about taking this more serious. I roll my eyes, punching him in the arm before telling him that I’ll be okay.

He nods at me once before saying a goodbye as he walks towards the door to head to the main control center. I pause before running up and hugging him from behind, assuring him that I’ll be back before he knows it. He smiles at me, patting me on the head, before taking my helmet out of my arms and shoving it on my head. I whine as I have to adjust it and hear him laugh quietly to himself as he exits the room, door closing behind him. I roll my eyes as I make my way towards, and into, the shuttle prepared. I close the hatch and get comfortable, checking the ship over before booting up the power. 

The keypad lights up around me, glowing white as I flip through the proper equipment and procedures to ensure the ship operates properly, while waiting for further instructions from above.

As if on cue, I hear Alexander's voice through my helmet,

“Everything in check down there, pipsqueak?”

I roll my eyes for what feels like the millionth time as I sit back and strap into my chair, ready to finally get off this stupid main ship for once.

“All good down here, we ready to go, Tarzan?”

I ask back, making fun of his long hair, as he confirms and the ship starts up. I can feel the rumble of the engine as the ship is lowered into position and I take a deep breath, still talking to Alexander to make sure everything is ready.

We count back from ten at the hatch in front of my ship, leading into space begins to open.

Once we get to zero, I can see the large planet in front of me and the engines push me forward and out of the ship, plunging me into the dark vast of space. I lock my focus on the planet as I take control of the wheel and steer towards the area told to me by Alexander.

I can see the cloudy, storm like area around the planet, making sure to avoid the darker areas.

Once I seem to be going in the right direction, I set it into autopilot and relax my posture.

“Hey, once we get back home, wanna hang out? I know this greeeeat Mexican place near my house, you’d love it.”

I say out of the blue and here my college chuckle, “Yeah yeah, Of course. But you’re paying, pipsqueak.” He says through the comms and I let out a dramatic and offended gasp while laughing.

“What, I gotta pay you to hang out with me? I’m hurt Al, really. Here I was thinking we were friends, guess not.” I say through giggles, and I can hear Alexander laughing as well.

I can see the planet coming closer and move the steering accordingly for the best entry, making sure to soften the engines so I don’t enter the atmosphere too quickly and burn up the ship.

“Yeah well, You can’t just i##ite some##e o# #### e##p-”

I furrow my brows as he talks, unable to make out what he’s saying.

“Hey Al, you’re cutting out. Is everything okay up there?” I ask with clear worry in my voice.

Just then the power to my ship flashes off before coming back on and the engine buffers, causing me to jolt forward in my seat. I call out again to Alex, but only hear muffled static through the comms, worrying the crap out of me. I try tapping the side of my helmet to see if I can get it to come back on.

“Alexander, are you there? You’re freaking me out, what’s going on?”

I ask out again, as my ship continues towards the unknown planet. The ship shuts off and I lurch forward again before the ship comes back on, causing me to panic slightly. I check my vitals and the ship's hardware to check for malfunctions quickly, to see if I can find out what’s happening.

“RYAN? RYAN CAN YOU H##E ME?!”

I hear Alex yell through the comms, causing me to jump in my seat and respond immediately,

“Hey, yeah I can hear you now. What’s going on, my ships freaking out…”

I can hear his shaky voice, which causes my panic to rise.

“Look Ryan, you need to listen very carefully to me alright? Whatever's going on with the planet is messing with the tech on the ship and screwing up the comms. I don’t think it’s safe, you need to come back this instant so we can re-think and re-evaluate this, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, alright I’ll turn around now.”

I say quickly, quietly panicking as I reach to flip off the autopilot. I realize how close I am to the outer edge of the planet now, along with the storm, and reach to grab a hold of the steering wheel but the ship lurches forward again before I can grab it and the power shuts off for a final time, turning off the engines, along with any and all different functions of the ship.

I freeze, my breathing shallow, as I try to process what just happened. I reach slowly and yank at the steering wheel, trying to see if it would move the ship. No give. I try to turn on backup power. Nothing. But besides that, the new realization that dawns on me causes my heart to pick up and the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up…

The ship is still moving towards the planet.

I get over my initial shock and start trying to talk to Alex again,

“ALEX, I CAN’T CONTROL THE SHIP. I’M MOVING TOWARDS THE PLANET!”

I can hear shuffling of papers through the comms,

“Ryan, the gravitational pull of the planet is pulling the ship in, is there any way to get it to turn around?!”

I can hear his breathing, it’s steady but shallow, like he’s trying to stay calm, for my sake and his.

“No-NO, there’s no controls! I’VE LOST ALL POWER!”

The ship lurches forward as I near the dark gray clouds, the ship almost at the point where it could touch them.

“DID YOU TRY THE BACKUP POWER?!”

“OF COURSE I TRIED THE BACKUP POWER!”

I wait a few seconds and tears prick in my eyes when Alexander doesn’t say anything and I call out for him again, telling him not to stop talking.

“Alright, just calm down Ryan. Your ship is too far away to grab with the retractable arm, I don’t know how to get you back to the ship in time. I can’t even get the main ship close to you without risking it being pulled in too. Maybe we could try a##atc#i## the el#c#tical cab### ## #### ###-”

His audio cuts out completely.

“Nononono, Alex come on, YOU CAN’T DO THIS RIGHT NOW, PLEASE!”

The ship is pulled into the clouds as I lose sight of the home ship and any hope of getting home. The ship is shaken harshly and I’m thrown out of my seat and onto the ground, cracking my helmet on the wall of the shuttle, causing it to crack. I suddenly feel this floating sensation in my stomach, my body feeling as if it’s weightless, until I look back out the windshield. The ship is falling. Fast.

All I remember was the sound of the windshield shattering and the heat surrounding me before the shuttle had plummeted to the ground, hitting the rock below with the full force of whatever gravity this planet went by, as pain fills my body and I black out.

-

I feel cold. And warm…. And wet…..

What happened…..

My head hurts…. My chest hurts….

A sudden pressure is put on my chest causing me to let out a loud whimper and the pressure is immediately retracted. I let out a shaky sigh and try to move, causing pain to shoot through my body and I let out another pained whimper.

What happened….? Why does everything hurt…? What’s that weird noise, it sounds like a dolphin…. Or a bird…. Maybe a cat….

I can’t keep my thoughts straight, everything hurts. What do I remember-?

The crash, the ship malfunctioning, the unknown planet…. Shit-

Another pressure is put on my chest again a few seconds later, touching a rib that is most certainly broken and I let out a surprised and pained gasp, causing it to go away again.

I try opening my eyes, finding the simple task to be, well, less than simple. My eyes seem focused on staying shut, but I need to see what’s happening. Am I dead? No, I don’t think ghosts feel pain…. Do they? That would be kinda cool though. Space ghost.

I try opening my eyes again, being able to open them a crack as light floods my vision, causing my eyes to tear up and close again. Wait, light? Wasn’t this planet covered in a dark perma-storm? Where’s the light coming from?

I hear some rumbling from above me, kinda like the sound my cat Rosco back home makes when he’s worried about something, a mix between a purr and a growl. 

Could it be my ship's engine? Wait, if it’s still active, it could explode!

I use all my strength to push myself into a sideways sitting position, while forcing my eyes open once again. The light hurts them and I let out a groan as I feel the numbing pain throughout my body. Suddenly the light is covered and I’m surrounded by a nice shadow. My brains too jumbled to pay attention to it at the moment, but what I do realize is that a large portion of my helmet around my left eye has broken off. 

HOW THE FUCK AM I BREATHING?!

Does this planet really have breathable air? Does that mean there’s some type of plants that can produce the same kind of air on earth? And a sun? We didn’t see any type of sun on the reading when we scanned the planet...

I take in a deep breath to test it. It feels like normal air, and it’s keeping me alive, I can ask questions later, once I get my bearing and stand up. Maybe I can contact Alex. ALEXANDER! He must be so worried, and my dad? He’s going to lose his mind! I have to get to my ship, even if it’s destroyed I could see if I could use the parts to fix my comms and get in contact with the main ship or even the space station if I’m lucky.

I try to push myself up more, managing to move one leg up so I’m in a night's kneeling position. The pain is bad, and I let out another whimper. As I do I can feel a rush of air surround me, it’s warm. I can see the ground underneath me, seeming to be a kind of gray rock, mainly flat, meaning I did technically land where I was supposed to, although I can see that my knees don’t look great, both being skinned and bleeding, but it doesn’t feel too bad.

Another rush of air, closer to my head, followed by a low growl, causing me to turn my head upwards to see what’s causing it. My eyes widen and my breath catches in my throat, unable to breath, as I see four glowing blue eyes staring right back at me, like it’s looking right through my soul.

 Not only that but the eyes are huge…. And predatory, looking at me as if I was something it just caught…

I stumble backwards falling onto my butt, cushioned by the intact space suit still surrounding me. I finally let out a scared, shaky breath, realizing that I had been holding it moments ago. The creature's gaze doesn't falter, if anything it hardens, letting out a predatory grumble, as if a warning, though I’m not exactly sure what that warning is for, causing me to freeze in place, adrenaline coursing through my veins causing my hands to feel like ice.

The creature is large, covered in a black fur in most of its body, some parts having less of it. It stands tall- scratch that, it’s fucking huge, the size of a small apartment building. It’s ‘arms’ are long, bent in a way that a monkeys would, reminding me of a baboon. Four large spider-like eyes are still locked on me and I force myself to make no sudden movements, tears welling up in fear as I start hyperventilating, unable to focus as I direct my vision towards the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with it. If I had, I would have noticed it’s head turning in a confused manner, like a puppy would when hearing a strange noise, and the curious way it’s slowly making its way towards me, as if not trying to frighten me more than I already am.

Once I feel it getting closer I look back up to see it slowly moving towards me, and I slowly scoot back to counter it. Just then it moves to put a hand behind me causing the ground to shake lightly, stopping me from moving away again. I let out a pathetic whine, before realizing the creatures face was now meters from mine, not noticing earlier that it had moved it’s face down to get to my level. It gets even closer and my eyes widen in horror and fear, tears running freely down my face at this point, and I try to move as far back as I can without touching the creature's hand.

It stops its movements, and holds its position, around two meters from me. I hold eye contact, not wanting to look away and have it come closer again. It also holds the stare, before I see its gaze flicker upwards slightly, focusing on something else. My helmet?

It looks back into the one hole in my helmet, at me, before it’s gaze in back at the top of the helmet. 

All of a sudden I felt something touch the back of my helmet harshly, and I let out a surprised noise as I turned around to see the hand from earlier had moved so it could poke me with one of its long, bony fingers. I start moving away from it, while unconsciously moving closer to the monster that was in front of me.

I feel another wave of hot air hit me from behind, as if it’s the creature's subtle way of telling me it’s still there. I jump slightly, and turn around again to face it. It’s now on the ground for the most part, one arm wrapped behind me and one... in the air… Like the position a cat would make when playing with a feathery toy or a mouse it just caught.

And I’m pretty sure I am that mouse.

I see the hand from the air start coming towards me, and I use my arms to try and cover my face the best I can, letting out a choked sob and whimper as I brace for the impact, for the pain of the hand coming and crushing my body.

But it doesn't come.

I look back up to see two of it’s five fingers positioned on either side of my helmet, before they close and grab lightly onto my helmet. Then they start pulling up, as if to try and disconnect the helmet from the rest of my space suit. Wait-

“Wa-Nononono, Stop it! LET ME GO!”

I yell out, panic taking over my body again as I struggle against its grip. And the creature does stop for a second after hearing my outburst, before pulling upwards again, taking most of my body with it. I’m still touching the ground with my feet as I try and use my hands to hold my helmet in place, not wanting to be even more exposed and vulnerable than I already feel.

I don’t think it feels the same way.

Once the tips of my toes can barely touch the ground, the creature twists its fingers lightly, snapping the thick plastic part that connects my helmet and suit with ease, allowing me to finally fall to the ground with a hard thud, landing on my backside. The collision with the rock causes painful jolts to course through my body and I roll on my side, clutching my chest to try and relieve some of that pain.

The helmet is dropped somewhere near me, landing on the ground with a hard thud, the sound of the rest of the glass frame shattering. I whimper again as I feel the breath of the beast come closer to me as I try to curl in on myself, as if to make myself smaller, as I screw my eyes shut.

I want to go home….

My hair, now wet with sweat, covers most of my face, bits of blood near my temples where my head had most likely collided with the side of the ship during the crash as well as more tears covering my face as I let out another choked sob.

I open my eyes slightly, only to see one of the monsters fingers coming towards my head, most likely to crush it like a grape. I whimper again, trying to tuck my head into my body, to make myself feel a little less scared and helpless. It doesn’t work.

The creature's finger touches my hair lightly, and I wince at the feeling, its finger tip being about the same size, if not bigger than my head. It holds the gentle and light touch, barley even touching my head at all, before it starts to rub against my scalp lightly. I let out a surprised and shaky breath at the gentle touch, the monster acting as if I’m a piece of glass that could be broken and damaged easily. The quick realization dawns on me that….

It’s petting me.

Like I’m some kind of scared animal.

And it actually feels kinda nice. Rubbing in a small circular motion against my scalp, soothing any former pain that resided there, causing my face to soften its expression at the feeling. It moves its motion slightly towards my face, causing me to whimper quietly. It’s quick to move its finger away to rub the back of my head, as well as my neck in a soothing motion, as if to apologize. Then the vibrations start.

Low, like a cat's purr, which only adds on to the calmness feeling washing over me along with the drowsiness, which I find very concerning as I should be scared, terrified even. But it feels so good… I hadn't had any physical contact with anyone besides light shoves and teasing from Alex for the past few years, making this gentle and almost nurturing gesture feel like heaven.

The purring gets louder and I start to get more tired. The creature seems to take notice of me being more docile and starts getting more bold with its touches. Avoiding my chest, it goes and lightly moves my arms, while still petting me with its other hand. I feel a few pokes to the soft material around my legs before it starts petting my back as well. My eyes start to close even though I’m trying to keep them open. I’m just so tired….

The creature seems to sense my tiredness and I can feel his hand cup my entire back before his other hand stops petting me, as well as the vibrations ceasing, causing me to let out a childish whine, missing the feeling.

It seems to notice my distress and quickly scoops me up in its hand, lifting my whole body carefully into the air. I let out a panicked noise again, struggling against his hand, not expecting to be lifted 100 feet into the air in a matter of seconds.

The creature is quick to pull me into its chest, causing me to pull up against its surprisingly soft, black fur, and the vibrations in its chest start up again almost instantly. I hate to admit it, but the action calms me down immediately, and I subconsciously snuggle against the fur, too tired and hurt to really care about anything besides my own comfort, my old tears dried against its body as it stands there for a few minutes as I continue to doze off before it starts moving, jumbling me slightly, making me clutch onto the giants fur for stability.

It scares me at first, but the purring increases immediately, calming me down quite easily. I notice that we’re heading in the direction of a large, dark gray mountain, surrounded by even larger plant type things in different shades of dark green and blues. I glance at the ground and see the creature is walking slowly on three of it’s four hands, the fourth one holding me. I also notice the tail following up from behind that I didn’t see until now, shaped like a monkeys.

On the ground I can see bits of metal from…. My ship!

I squirm, breaking out of my calm and tired mindset to try and find a way to get to the ground remembering that I need to contact Alex, but the second I try to get out of the hand, its fingers cup tighter around me, caging me against the soft wall and the vibrations become more insistent. They’re not so tight that I can’t move, but they’re very clearly meant to keep me in the creature's hold, as if insisting that I stay put.

I of course don’t listen and continue to try to struggle, earning me a loud growl possessive from above as they stop moving all together. The fingers cup tighter around me, and I stop moving all together, shaking slightly in fear, tears welling up in my eyes again.

I’m held for a few more seconds of not moving…

Then the purring starts again, it’s ‘thumb’ comes up and rubs the top of my head lightly, like re assurance, before being removed and it starts walking again. I try to control my breathing again, now realizing that I’m not getting out of here.

When we get near the mountain, the air surrounding it turns cold causing me to shiver into the vibrating surface. The creature's body quickly heats up to help keep me warm, along with the fur, allows me to lose focus of everything else as my vision fades to black, cuddling up against the warm monster that just technically kidnapped me.

Once I’m out, the creature takes my unconscious body into its home, a cave in the side of the mountain, and rests me against a clear, soft gel like substance to allow me to sleep, as it removes my ripped space suit carefully, making sure not to disturb my sleep. It leaves my clothes on as it takes some sort of blue substance and applies it generously on my wounds and injuries while I sleep, making sure to stay close to keep me warm, before laying next to me like a large cat would, using its hand as a large blanket to make sure I’m warm during the night and so I don’t run away if I wake up before it.

It gives me one last nuzzle against the top of my head, scenting me slightly before purring and falling asleep, holding the tiny baby it found while looking for food, now glad it had gone in the wrong direction, as this cub would have never survived on its own.

They will never let the tiny, scared baby go, not after its mother had clearly abandoned it to die, terrified and injured.

It’s now their baby and they will take care of it.

Forever.

[gallivantingheart]

Me, a Princess? Shut Up!

masterlist | previous | next

⏮️ chapter 6: mulan ⏭️

who?: jihoon/woozi x (f)reader

word count: 1717

genre/s: fluff, humour, social media!au

warnings: mild coarse language

synopsis: Life’s pretty good for y/n. Easy, even. Until someone claiming to be her grandmother says she is the queen of a small island country - and y/n, a princess.

a/n: i have no reason as to the TWO WEEK wait, but i still hope it’s okay. Also, I know nothing of international politics or table etiquette, don’t @ me

**please ignore the timestamps - they are not accurate**

TAGLIST: @strykiss, @karrotkarrotkarrot, @3sriracha​, @minkwans​, @annakemi​, @chaseyui​, 

don’t hesitate to send an ask or dm to be added!

Soonhee follows you with eagle eyes as you circle the dining room, elaborate table setting laid out along with decorative lemon themed table centrepieces.

“And who sits next to France?”

You rush to answer, not facing her. “Belgium. Like on the map, because France and Germany don’t get along politically.”

“And across from Germany?” She calls, idly adjusting forks and spoons.

“Thai - uh, Spain, sorry. Thailand is next to Spain, before myself. Then Soonyoung and yourself at the head of the table, north.”

You pause to turn and wait for Soonhee to assess your answer. She’s dressed in a silky champagne two piece blazer and skirt, her blouse designed with a high neckline and thin necktie. The click of her heels are a constant, reminding you of a metronome - just to torment you a little more. She nods, finally.

“I didn’t quite ask for all of that, but yes. You are correct. Have you had your final fitting? You must be presentable before the attendees. Reputation and first impressions are vital.”

You bite the bottom of your lip, nodding. “I had it the day before last. Everything is as ready as can be.”

“Hmmm. You are dismissed. I suggest you study on the conversation topics from last week and compose yourself before tomorrow. Please be here at 1pm, sharp. Antoni insists on natural light and I wish to be ready as early as possible.” Soonhee still doesn’t look at you when she speaks.

As much as it makes your blood boil from the aloof and disparaging manner in which she speaks to you - and only you, it seems - you push down any unpleasant urges against her. She’s a queen; a ruler of a country. No doubt not used to her opinion being challenged, much less by someone your age. There are better things to utilise your energy on rather than fighting the brick wall that is your grandmother.

“Yes, grandma.” You’ll still push the envelope and call ther that though, something a little less formal for the times. “See you tomorrow.”

You instantly turn out the room, pulling your phone out of your back pocket. Those dreadful heels click hastily after you.

“And no socialising tonight! We can’t afford any bad press or late nights for anyone.”

Her voice has never been loud but it carries remarkably well. You huff and jam your phone away, a chicken and drinks session with the boys off the cards. Mingyu is out of town on another holiday with family, so it would have been Minghao and Jun, your fellow foodies.

Despite the early bedtime, you can’t seem to sleep, tossing and turning, tangling yourself in your sheets. You hope Antoni is as good at hiding sleepless nights as he is at shaping eyebrows.

The dress is beautiful, of course. (You had the wine gang help you choose over text. Secretly, of course.)

And while you’re still sceptical of Antoni after the debacle he caused concerning your identity, he blathers on and on in apologies as he pins and fiddles with your hair so you don’t mind too much by the end of it all. Soonhee seems to think he’s redeemed himself - the queen’s word is law. Soonyoung looks super chic in his blazer and turtleneck. You pout at him in his fashionable attire no one else in their stuffy suits appears to bat an eye at.

“Soonie you look great.” You say from the bottom step of the main staircase - grand entrance and all.

He can’t help but preen. “Thanks, as do you, Boss.”

“Gross. But I look like a glitzed up puffball. If I had known that it could have been more casual I-”

The queen cuts off your whining as she glides over in a gauzy ivory gown, crown glittering with every light fixture. “Y/N. Very appropriate. Soonyoung, handsome as always. Are you sure you don’t have my genes?”

What? A - A joke? Where? You have to forcibly shut your mouth from the conversation in front of you. Soonyoung has a steady dancers’ posture - or maybe just a royal one. Straight spine, relaxed held back shoulders and a level gaze. You twist your fist in the many layers of your skirt, to both hide and release the frustrating tension radiating through you. The ambassador laughs, fluffing shyly at his bleach blonde fringe.

“Oh, ahaha. Your Majesty, no. No, I do not.” He mumbles.

You dip yourself in a short bow before dodging the pair in order to attempt to mingle. Droning conversation topics flick through your mind, like forcing the pages of a book. Finally, you set your sights on the Swedish ambassador, if only to talk about Eurovision - the one fun subject allowed to be discussed with you.

You find though, that most of the conversations you attend cycle through the same process. The notice of your presence and an introduction between you all - ministers, ambassadors and their companions. Then a resuming of the current conversation, you being too afraid of looking stupid to add any effective input. You have to bite back a sigh of relief when dinner is announced.

Soonyoung is right. You need a spoon for the cool soup served. He flicks the edge of the one you are supposed to use and you kick his ankle in thanks. The conversations from the foyer are carried into the dining space and you lose India to Thailand. Soonyoung is chatting avidly with Scotland across from him, his hands gesturing from their place on the table cloth. Despite this, main course goes swimmingly, a chicken lemon dish on rice with a hint of garlic and herbs. You hesitate on your chopsticks before picking up a knife and fork like most of the other dignitaries. You feel eyes on you and glance over to see Soonhee evaluating you from the head of the table. She still manages to look severe to you, even with the amicable situation - but maybe you’re just imagining things.

It’s when dessert is around the corner that it falls apart. Spain’s representative, a lovely man named Eduardo is discussing the lemon market of Amaide with you, something you are luckily very proficient with. As you speak, you demonstrate the incline of the market, you tip your water glass over. The elder man, easily in his fifties, smiles warmly and lets you fix it up with an apology to him and the waiter on hand to clean it up. Thailand’s eyes squint at you dubiously and you bow back to them. You describe the style of orchard the royal lemon ceremony is held in, gesturing over your shoulder at the Queen Mother, and the critical breeding of the trees that grow all over the country. A stray hand wave collides with the melting ice bucket with a clang, tipping it sideways… all over Eduardo. Now the pleasant man is drenched from head to toe, Portugal catching the spray and flying bottle of champagne. Thailand is awash as well, nowhere near as bad, but he seems to seize up in panic, dabbing and pressing at his shoulders and sleeves. The dining room is in a commotion now as you bite your lips and frown, grabbing your own napkin to dry down the man next to you. Your hair is damp, slowly going fluffy and frizzy from the water. People are standing up, including yourself and Soonhee.

“I-I-I’m so sorry. I’m not usually this clumsy! Are-are you okay, Eduardo?” You protest.

He shoots you a severe look, only tempered by the reputation of every single person in the room. Obviously not. You chew harshly at your lip as the waiters fuss and someone talks quietly about offering a change of clothes.

You look around the dying chaos - even Soonhee is amongst it, joining in on the many dabbing gingerly at the spanish ambassador’s suit with a napkin. Soonyoung catches your eye as you slink backwards towards the ajar french doors, leaning over to the waiter.

“If anyone asks, I’ve gone to the power room, okay? I-I, uh, shouldn't be too long.” You murmur out the corner of your mouth.

He glances at you, nodding. Soonyoung frowns, gesturing with a discreet finger back to his side. You shake your head, signalling a time-out. You hike up your skirts the moment you turn the corner, clacking down the dim hallway as fast as you can to pick up your purse from the cloak room. Making a detour, you go for the east bathroom, in favour of the north one closer to the dining room.

Slamming the door behind you and locking it, you turn the toilet lid down to sit on it for a moment. A time which gets longer and longer the more you worry your lips to oblivion, thinking on your next move. There is no salvaging what you just did. Humiliating yourself, your victims and the Queen Mother - and by extension, your entire country. No. Surely you couldn’t stay. But how to get out of the embassy without causing more of a fuss? You check the time. Only forty minutes left of the dinner anyway. They couldn’t miss you while still cleaning up. Your stomach turns and lurches heavily, so you turn to press your face into the cool tiled wall.

So, leave. But to where?

No one was in the city, having gone away for the break. Certainly not just home. You wanted just a moment away from everything. You peek your head out into the empty hallway. There is an employee exit next to the kitchens - only the cctv would see you then. But where to? Jihoon? Would he still be around? Would he be okay with seeing you?

You set up a ride for the university before making a break for it, gasping as you lose a bracelet, snagged on the curled handle of the door. Punching in the default entry code, you power walk over the concrete and gravel out to the side street as a little green bug of a car pulls up.

The window winds down to show a man in his early 30’s. “Ride for Y/n?”

“That’s me. Thanks.”

You glance back over your shoulder, through the wrought iron gates to the deadly still building. Jumping in, you tug your long, fluffy skirt in after you.

Bonus

[letskidnapsenpai]

Hi! Could I request an Ikesen or Obey me matchup, please? 😊 You don't have to do this if you don't want to!

I'm an INTP-T, Aquarius. I'm 5'4 (my friends are all really tall which annoys me to no end) and use the pronouns she/they and have really frizzy and unmanageable brown (borderline black) hair that reaches around halfway down my back which I usually keep in a ponytail and really dark brown eyes. I also wear glasses but I usually just forget to put them on half of the time 😅

My day never starts without either a cup of coffee or at least some lemon/peach tea and I love music, reading ('The tell tale heart' by Edgar Allen Poe is one of my favourites), animals and art and plan on majoring in marine biology. My favourite colour is brown just because of how warm it is and my sleep schedule is non existent. 

I can be really insensitive sometimes by accident and have a really messed up sense of humor which is usually compiled of dark humor or self depreciative jokes. I'm generally very introverted, initially coming off as cold and/ or intimidating to people when they first meet me according to my friends so it takes a while for me to open up to people but I'm basically like a four year old on a sugar high once you get to know me. A smart and slightly emotionally detached four year old but a four year old with no impulse control or sense of self preservation on a sugar high nonetheless. 

I struggle with self-love but I'll be damned if I ever let anyone else think or say anything bad about themselves and I'm really prone to bouts of emotional numbness whenever I get triggered by something like someone yelling at me or a loud noise which leads to me being very distant at times and causing me to struggle with maintaining any kind of relationship (be it platonic, romantic or familial). I'm overly confrontational and swear like a sailor and will not hesitate to call someone out especially when it comes to people I care about.

My love language is physical touch which I think comes from being overly touch starved and I'm clingy and really affectionate, even in public, but get flustered really easily by the littlest things. Like, I cannot handle compliments.

Thank you and make sure to stay safe and take care of yourself! 🥰❤ Also, sorry if this is really long 😅

Hii!💖💫 I matched you with somebody from ikesen, because I felt like it would be better 💖💫 Matching you with someone was really hard, I couldn't choose who to match you with in Ikesen, because you would be awesome with everybody in something, but in the end I picked 💖 I hope it's not too short 🥺💖

My choice for you is... *dice roll* Mitsuhide! And here's why:

• Kitsune boy would tease you for your height, because he, like the other warlords, is giraffe, but little bit of teasing never killed anybody unless you decide to kill him in his sleep for it

• With his straight white hair does he use purple shampoo? and light, golden eyes, you're like perfect opposites when it comes to looks and you make each other's beauty stand out even more

• He'll remaind you to wear your glasses, so you don't go around, bumping into walls or worse, other men

• He probably likes morning tea too, so you two spend your morning in each other's company, drinking tea and talking about your night Mitsuhide's morning voice? I feel like I'm pregnant just from imagining it

• Mitsuhide can probably sing, so he'll either sing or read to you while you fall asleep in his arms

• Another difference between you two is your style, unlike you, he likes cold, light colours you're like Anna and Elza but again, that makes yours beauty stand out more

• He tends to overwork himself, so his sleep schedule is also really bad, but he'll with help if unnamed mom friend try to get you both to rest better, after all, he has to take care of his little mouse

• Something you're both same at is your humor, when you two joke, half of the warlords look at you concerned, Mitsuhide loves your joke and you love to make him laugh

• With Mitsuhide being, well, what he is, your accidentally cold first impression doesn't shock many people, and even less people show when they find out how hyperactive you actually are

• He loves how smart you're, he's so proud of you and he loves showing you off

• Struggles with self love? Don't know her. Mitsuhide can not only have you begging for him in seconds sorry not sorry but he'll also make sure you know how beautiful and perfect to him you are, because he loves you with his whole heart and he'll never let you think something bad about yourself

• He knows everything, so he also knows the real you, so he'll not give up with you even through your distantness and he'll make sure you're okay and everything, no matter what happens

• He'll find your sharp tongue amusing and even more after you scream at somebody for almost hour after that person said something rude about Ranmaru protect that bby

• He'll bathe you in affection, even in public, he doesn't care, he'll treat his lady right no matter who watches

• Prepare to shine red all day long, he's a tease and he'll do anything to make you blush, so you might as well just rename yourself to tomato

[kazuwhora]

🎃 Leaving this emoji here so I know it's me

can I get a matchup?

I'm an INFP Gemini, 1.57m, and I use any pronouns, mostly they/them and she/her

I'm really pale and I wear glasses 24/7 bc without them I can only see things up to 10cm away from me.

my hair is wavy (the kind that if I don't style it correctly it will get straight but a frizzy kind of straight) and I keep changing it all the time.

I've had pink/blue hair, purple/blue, blonde ends, only pink, ginger for 2 years and now it's bright red. normally i like to let it grow and then cut it short, same with my bangs. so there's a lot of combinations here.

I love my hair and I take care of it obsessively, not only mine but my friend's too baji drop your hair care routine

what else... ?

you know that person that is in college but everyone assumes they're on middle school bc they look 13 and act like they're lost everyday everywhere like wth is going on? that's literally me everyone thinks I'm 13 I'm 19 people asked me if I'm a teacher's child too many times now it was getting annoying now being baby-faced is my personal joke

my body is??? hourglass shaped?? I guess?? I'm not thin enough to tell exactly

my back and shoulders are quite large bc I used to swim when I was little, now I take dance classes so all my body strength is in the lower part of my body ((bitch im thicc 😎😎

art I general is my hobbie, so dancing and singing and painting are my thing

I also used to take fighting classes when I was younger but my parents only took me for three months and then they stopped bc I would be wanting to fight god and the world

i still want to fight god and the world but now I don't have the tools to do so. how unfortunate.

I dress mostly in what makes me feel confortable? crop tops shorts and slippers every day. if not, hoodies and baggy pants. all black with rainbow socks.

about my personality I'm just-- idk?

bleh?

my whole childhood I was just the smart kid and now I'm not so I don't have a sense of personality.

my friends say that I have strong opinions and don't hold back

which is kinda true?

I do have a sense of justice and I will defend it until the end and somedays I will step up and defend them with words and physically if I have to.

but most of the time i just don't have a filter

most of the time my Inside Outs are staring into space like 😐 and just letting everything happen. so will say something like "Thats dumb. you can do better. I respect that you have a opinion. but I think your opinion is dumb" while having no expression in my face. I'll notice 3 seconds later how RUDE that was and start laughing bc omg that was mean.

other days I'm just a fleeing sunlight being excited about everything like a child would.

idk what else to say

my favorite avenger is natasha, I love genshin albedo my beloved rerun when, loona stan. lactose intolerant but I don't give a shit bc I love ice cream.

I feel like I talked so much but didn't say anything. cool. I'm awful at talking about myself but I tried.

bye 💜

ok so one of my best friends (probably my only friend ngl) is an infp and I feel like struggling with defining your personality is 100% an infp thing but u did a good job and ty for providing me with so much information!!!

im definitely matching you up with hanma idc if you love him or hate him this a ship I can get behind 👏🏻

first of all lets both take a moment to appreciate how fucking hot that man is like god fucking DAMN that first picture never fails to get me smfh

second of all. ur an infp. hanma is an entp. y'all have barely anything in common cognitively and its fucking AMAZING. I live for infp (and also intp for u intps there) and entp ships because the way that us entp's are in nature is completely opposite from an infp, while still sharing the perception function that allows both types to understand each other to some extent that just makes for a really fun match ok?? trust me on this.

he is obsessed with your individuality. as an extravert, not only does hanma benefit from your ability to access an introverted aspect that works to ease him from the burnout extraverts can face when they are unable to enable an introverted mindset every now and then, but he also learns to laugh both with you and at you- and genuinely. like you make him laugh. he thinks you're hilarious and as an entp who are typically known to be a little self obsessed, he didn't think it was possible to think anyone was hilarious except himself? he's like damn this girl is really like a kinder surprise.

he also really loves your art and finds that he's a little annoyed that he's not artistically inclined so he'll beg you to paint something for him and he wont stop until you do. just dont paint an ugly portrait of him on purpose or he's gonna get butthurt about it going on about how "damn is this how you see me?? </3 rip me I guess" and he wont shut up about it until you make it up to him and apologize for making a mean joke.

and then he just makes a joke towards you that's like 10x meaner and he WONT apologize for it. wallow in the revenge because its not going to end anytime soon.

lets be honest tho, when the two of you are together around others its a little overwhelming for people. hanma's entp-ness really brings out a side of you that leans on the extroverted side. you feed off his energy and the two of you are lowkey a little mean to people. but they deserve it, right? its their fault for being idiots. you enable each other hardcore here but its fine. they all know you're just being you and hanma is happy to have someone on his side.

you and hanma can fight god together btw <3 he's a little delulu

[saviorinsilk]

New Life

Pairing: Cordelia Goode X Female OC

Warning: None

The sun was at the highest point of the day, misty clouds covering it, causing the air to not be as stifling as the day before. That made me happy as I had felt sick from the heat of the summer here in New Orleans, Louisiana. I wasn't used to weather like this and even though I had arrived at Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies over two weeks ago, I didn't think I would ever get used to the deathly humidity that made my usually wavy hair a curly, frizzy mess. I had always worn my hair down before, but now I had to get used to a big messy bun sitting on the top of my head. Since that was, unfortunately, the only way it looked presentable. Honestly, though, my new hairstyle was the least of my problems.

Back in Canada, I had managed to live my 20 years of life being an extreme introvert. I had one friend that I kept from high school but I had already moved on from her in the mere 16 days I had been a country away. I had been used to being alone a lot, but that was an unfamiliar concept here at Miss Robichaux's. The only time you were alone was when you showered, but even then there was probably a girl blow drying her hair or fixing her makeup behind the curtain. I had learned pretty quickly to savour the fleeting moments when I was locked up in the bathroom, doing the one thing everyone agreed was not a group event. I Cherished those times. I tried very hard to be invisible but in a house full of witches that wasn't exactly easy. I had managed to avoid most conversations, except one with a girl named Nan, which thankfully had been very pleasant. I sat at the back of my classes and had somehow managed to talk myself out of having to do the introduction that I and a few other new girls had been asked to perform. The real miracle was that I had lucked out with my roommates. I got placed with a girl who only tiptoed into the room late at night once everyone was already in bed and a drama queen who had better things to do then talk to "my weird ass" as she put it. I took a long drag from the small joint between my fingers, the sweet taste of lemony haze filling my lungs. I felt my body relax as I pushed the smoke from my slightly parted lips. It seemed that with every exhale the stress in my mind and the pain in my muscles floated up to the sky as the air was filled with the pungent aroma. Back home I had had a medical marijuana license for my anxiety and it had been hell trying to survive without it in the south. I sat on the lawn in the backyard, studying the huge live oak trees that acted as a tall fence around the perimeter of the property. The freshly cut grass tickled my pale legs through the thin material of a bohemian style dress that Misty, a witch who lived in the house had given me. I had left the beautiful light blue shawl that she had given me as well, on my bed. The clouds provided enough protection from the scorching sun today. "It's beautiful out here." A soft voice spoke. I was dragged out of my thoughts by the feeling of my skin leaving my bones as I let out a loud yelp and my butt literally left the ground. My head snapped around and landed on the source of the noise. Cordelia Goode was standing only a few paces behind me, her head tilted up, eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. My heart skipped a beat and I had to fight my jaw from dropping open.

Miss Goode was the most beautiful women I had ever laid my eyes on. Her blond hair shone brightly as the sun broke through a cloud as if her beauty opened up the heavens. She wore a mint green, long-sleeved blouse made out of the breathable fluid material that I adored. Her petite but splendid curves were enhanced by the black loose-fitting pencil skirt that hugged them. I was completely and fully taken aback by her beauty, even though I had seen her many times.

I had hurried out of rooms every chance I got and when I couldn't avoid her, like during her class or morning meeting, I made sure to kept my eyes focused on something else. I accepted the fact that I was gay, but I sure as hell wasn't eager for anyone one else to know, given what happened last time someone did. Yet at this moment I couldn't tear my eyes away. Just looking at her was enough to give me butterflies. Cordelia smiled brightly and her now open, deep chocolate brown eyes settled on my wide pale blue eyes. "A strong sixth sense might not be an ability of yours," Cordelia said with a light chuckle. I'm not sure if it was her voice that brought me back to earth or if it was the loud bang of a hammer that came from a few houses down, but whatever it was suddenly made me aware of the fact that I indeed had a joint between my black slender nails. I quickly snuffed out the sourcing end of it into the grass in front of me and tucked it in my waist, bringing my knees up against my chest. "I'm so sorry Miss Goode! I'll never do it again, I promise. Please don't tell Myrtle." I stammered, my gaze locked on my bare feet that were sticking out from the bottom of my dress. My head spun as I thought of the consciences that were surely in store for me. One of our instructors, an older woman named Myrtle had given us a very serious talk after finding one of the girls drunk on the front porch after a long Friday night. We may have been away from our parents, but us young girls needed to remember that there was never a witch that achieved greatness by goofing around with drugs, over drinking or silly antics. I could still hear the intense tone she spoke in filling my head. Cordelia's eyes scanned me and her face rose into a sweet smile. "There's no need to be sorry Ellie. At least it's natural, unlike the insane amount of hard liquor some people in this city consume. Sometimes we all need a little help relaxing." Cordelia's voice was caring, her smile turning sympathetic. I was shocked and it took me a second to process all of it. All I could manage to do was to nod awkwardly before beginning to push myself off the plush ground. Cordelia's hand came up to stop me. "Sit." She commanded. I immediately obeyed, grabbing the joint in my hand as it slid away when my butt collided with the ground. "I'm on a short break and some fresh air would do me some good as well." She lowered herself next to me, her legs crossed out in front of her. I realized that she too was barefoot and for some reason it made me smile secretly to myself. Cordelia signed as she leans back on her outstretched arms, her head lazily turning towards me. She looked like an angel with the sun shining on her light pale skin. "We missed you at the morning meeting today. I was worried." Cordelia said. She was worried? About me? Those nasty metaphoric butterflies were back and they were frantic. When I just stared at her silently, Cordelia pursed her plump lips and narrowed her eyes slightly, as if she was concentrating on me. I shook my head and averted my eyes down to my fingers, that were busy rolling the joint against my skin. "I'm so sorry. I went for a walk this morning and I got...distracted. I know how important you said it is to be there on time. I messed up. I'll pick up some extra work around the house to make up for it." I offered, my guilty conscience getting the better of me. I tried to be tough but it didn't always go the way I wanted it to when I was confronted. "As much as I appreciate your civility, I'm not angry with you. I was just concerned because you have been very punctual since you got here." She said, worry in her eyes. I was embarrassed. I had made her worry. I may have been antisocial but I never wanted my actions to upset someone else. I had always been very empathetic and I felt ashamed of my actions. "Where did you walk? Around the Garden District?" Cordelia asked. Oh ya, I had walked around the neighbour for sure, I had studied every inch of it. "Ya, and a bit farther. I may have ended up at Staker's" I said sheepishly. Staker's was the small corner store a fair distance away. I could have guessed the reaction that Cordelia would have to this information but I wasn't excepting her discouraging tone to be quite as present as it was. "Elizabeth! That is at least a 20-minute drive away! What time were you up?" She demanded, her sunny disposer absent. God, she used my full name. No one had used that name since I got here. The last person to call me Elizabeth was my mother. "3:00 am," I said quietly as I peeked up at Cordelia's unhappy face. "Ellie you shouldn't be out on the streets at that time of night! It can get dangerous out there in the dark, especially for a witch and a beautiful young lady like yourself." Cordelia explained. I felt my cheeks getting warm and I could only imagine how red they must have been. Had Cordelia just called me beautiful? "I-I know. I just couldn't sleep because it was so hot and I had a real hankering for an iced tea and a crappy corner story donut." I stuttered, praying that my blushing wasn't too noticeable. Cordelia raised her eyebrows and her expression lighten a bit. "You could have asked one of your roommates where the fans were and I'm sure Zoe or one of the other girls with a license would have taken you to fulfil your cravings at lunch if you had asked," Cordelia said. She was so sweet but she didn't know the secrets some of the were hiding. I opened my mouth to argue that I didn't think the other girls liked me that much and that I had felt like I was suffocating in the house last night and had to make an escape before I saw my grave, but I couldn't. There was something about Cordelia that had an effect on me. I would go along with whatever came out of that woman's sweet lips. I'm sure that's how most cult members had felt towards their leaders and it had never done them any good but I was a hopeless romantic. "You're right. No more late night strolls. Promise." I settled with the polite response. After all, she was my Head Mistress AND my Supreme. Cordelia smiled, satisfied. "Good. Us witches need to be careful. Although there have been lots of people that have accepted us since we have gone public, there are still those out there that would like nothing more than to put a knife to your throat and play the violin." She warned, her words painting an image in my head that I would have been fine with never witnessing. It was true though and I had seen first hand how some people just couldn't deal with diversity. It had been a gloomy day when I had been in the Denver Airport, waiting patiently in line at Annie's Pretzels to get a treat for my connecting flight to New Orleans, when some nosy bitch glanced over my shoulder. I had been reading over a letter from Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, excited over the invitation to come to see the school for myself. Suddenly the lady exploded in rage, shouting crude language as well as slipping in the words freak, Satanist along with just screaming WITCH over and over. She must have seen the news. I had stood my ground, not about to lose my place near the front of the line. I wanted my soft warm pretzel and no lunatic was going to take that away from me. Luckily she had been in line with a level-headed person, that dragged her away before I had been angered to the point of showing her just how much of a "freak" I was. People had never been kind to those who were different and the deep south was a perfect example of that. I may have felt like I could take care of myself but Cordelia was right. I hadn't left my whole life behind in another country to be murdered within my first month of freedom. "I've been meaning to talk to you for the last couple days but things just keep getting in the way. Life always gets a bit crazy when we have new arrivals. I would like you to come to my office so we can catch up on how you have been settling in. Also, I'd like to do a quick evaluation of your abilities, due to the distressed state you were in when you arrived. It probably wasn't a fair judgment of your capabilities." Cordelia softly placed her hand over mine, stopping my fidgeting fingers. Her skin was warm and surprising soft like silk. The contact was heavenly and I could have stayed in this moment forever if the universe had allowed it. But the anxiety crept back with the thought of the distressed state I had indeed been in when arriving at the academy. I hadn't thought about it today until now. It had been nice to live in ignorance for the short time. "Do you think you would be able to swing by after dinner tonight? Don't worry about the dishes, one of the other girls will take your shift." Cordelia said, answering my question before I even had a chance to ask it. It was almost as if she could see my thoughts in writing. God, that would be a disaster if it were true. All the innocent I projected would be gone with the brutality of my unholy thoughts. I liked the idea of skipping the chores that we had been giving since last week when the number of girls was too much for the staff and the few maids to clean up after. "Manual Labour builds character" Kyle, the butler had told the whiny girls in the kitchen. "Of course Miss. Goode." I replied, forcing a smile, across my nervous expression. It's not like I minded the thought of being alone with the women of my dreams but at the same time, the idea caused my anxiety-ridden demons to claw there way out of their dark hiding place. "Call me Cordelia, just between the two of us," Cordelia said, patting my hand that she still held tenderly. I couldn't help but smile goofily. "I better get back inside, any moment we are likely to hear Myrtle's voice." Cordelia laughed, squeezing my hand before she pushed her slender body up, gently wiping the loose grass that had stuck to her skirt. Cordelia smiled down at me. "I'll see you at dinner." She said before turning her back. No force could pull my gaze away from her as she gracefully made her way to the back door. I blinked when she disappeared into the house, the door swinging shut with a thud behind her. I couldn't help but smile to myself as the last few minutes replayed in my head. I glanced down at the grass in front of me, my eyes settling on the tarnished patch from where I had put my joint out. I extended my hand, lightly covering it. My eyes fluttered closed and I felt a familiar tingling in my fingers as the sunlight caressed my face. A surreal image of a luscious field of natural grasses lay behind my eyelids. The wind blew the praise plants that I had seen every day for the last 20 years of my life, as I began to feel the grass beneath my skin tickling between my digits. I wiggled my fingers slightly as I continued to study the blades of grass in my mind. After a few moments, I opened my eyes lazily and was pleased to see the once grey and burnt grass had grown taller than the lawn around it, and the colour repaired to the deep shade of green. I giggled and let my body weight pull me back, releasing a deep sigh as my body collided with the ground under me. The sun shone beautifully through the live oaks above. Maybe things would turn around. After all, this was a safe haven and if happiness lived somewhere, it would surely be in a place like this.