#plaited hair extensions

[enwoso]

grumpys reaction to lessi’s hair extensions? 💗

LIKE MAGIC? — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

you came running out of nursery with the same big smile you would go in with, running into your mummy's outstretched arms. starting your ramble of every single activity you did, from the colour you used for your picture to when you had your snack break.

"have you had fun today?" mummy asked you as you held her hand tightly, alessia carrying your small backpack in her other hand as you were holding your artwork from the day in your free hand as you walked towards the school gates.

"yes! we made paper stars and put on what we wanna be when we get bigger" you talked mummy through the process of making your own star.

"and what did lovie write on hers?" alessia asked, generally curious as to what it may be as last week you wanted to be a shopkeeper whereas a few weeks before that it was an astronaut so it definitely was a mix but at least you had your options open, very open.

"wanna be like mummy" you said so innocently and alessia could have shed a tear on the spot there and then as her heart grew just that little bit more at your sweetness.

"oh lovie, that's very cute of you" alessia smiled as she opened the car door up for you, putting your backpack on the backseat before lifting you into your car seat as you passed your mummy your painting from the day.

"be careful- wait what happened to your hair?" you began before getting distracted by the long hair that was tickling your arms as alessia reached over you put your paintings flat on the backseat.

a small laugh coming from alessia as she moved back to stand in the doorway, beginning the process of buckling you into your car seat.

what do you mean what’s happened to my hair?" alessia said softly as she clicked your seatbelt in place.

“it longer?" you asked, you were confess as you swear when you seen mummy this morning her hair was only to her was to her shoulders, there's no way mummy's hair grows that fast. "does your hair grow like magic?"

"no, i wish but no. but you could say a lady uses her magic and gets fake hair and puts it in my hair" alessia explained in very simple terms for you, the last thing she wanted to do was confused you.

"it's fake!" you repeat quieter as you reach out to touch it, it feeling a lot like real hair to you. soft and smooth how mummy's hair always feels.

"can the lady use her magic to do mine?" you asked perking up in your car seat, you always wanted longer hair. hair like rapunzel that could be plaited so long and put pretty little flowers in the gaps.

"oo your too little lovie, plus you've got beautiful hair. you don't need silly fake hair like mummy" alessia smiled as a little pout came across your face as well as a little huff.

"but- but it makes you look like a princess"

[webdollzz]

PLEASE WELCOME...PROFESSOR!RAFE💐

INTRODUCTION ᡴꪫ‎

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who was quite often grumpy, walking into class with a cup of stale cafeteria coffee, a deep frown set on his face.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who had a bad day everyday. that was until you started auditing his class. a pretty lil' student who was interested in the literature he was teaching. of course, he didn't completely lighten up. but he was intrigued.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe spent a few months of watching you in class, seeing you blush and get giddy whenever he praises your correct answers and brilliant questions, he called you back to stay after class for catch up work. which is when he pinned you between him and his desk, hand on the nape of your neck as he kissed you — whispering about how long he's been wanting to do this.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who, from then onwards, was fucking you every chance he got. teachers lounge during class hours, after class, in the library in the dusty aisle no one ventures to.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who will sit you in his lap as he grades your paper, lecturing you for every bad thing you did. "I mean, what type of grammar is this? do you even pay attention during my classes or are you too busy thinkin' about my dick?"

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who on a good day he'll let you cockwarm him as he grades papers, immediately failing anybody with a name he recognises from the times you've cried about how they were so mean to you.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who has a soft spot for you, and only you. it shouldn't be noticeable, but people certainly saw it. he was less bossy, less rude. he gave you extensions.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who will take it upon himself to spank you when you have the audacity to turn in something so, so bad, that it genuinely makes him mad. "the fuck were you thinking? did you proof-read at all?!"

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who takes time to tutor you after his spankings. starting by making you write a two page essay on something, knelt under his desk with his face buried between your thighs. everytime your eyes flutter away from your laptop screen, he pulls away from your dripping pussy to scold you.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who does genuine tutoring with you too, wanting you to actually get better so you don't fail his class.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who, before your history class begins, walks into the classroom to leave a single rose on your desk. he's a lover at heart.

ᨳິ‎english literature!professor who uses his profession to his advantage, leaving little love notes in your bag, desk, jacket, anywhere you'll find them, and others won't.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who signs off all notes with a very, very indecipherable '- R.C' with a sloppy, uneven heart next to it.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who will messily kiss you against the door of his classroom, two minutes until his class begins. the second he hears the chatter from the hall grow closer, he shoves you off, wiping your lips with his thumb to get rid of your messy, smudged lipstick. he then gently pushes you towards your seat, sitting at his desk and prepping for his lecture. he then throws you glances all the way through it, making sure not to stand face forward for too long so his other, suspecting students don't see how hard he is through his slacks.

ᨳິ‎possessive!professor!rafe who leaves marks all over your neck and your thighs constantly, for people to see out of your low cut blouses and plaited skirts.

ᨳິ‎overprotective!professor!rafe who has to bite his tongue to resist the urge to saunter up to any man who had the audacity to talk to you.

ᨳິ‎jealous!professor!rafe who pounds you from the back in his office, your chest on the smooth wood of his desk. his hand reaching forwards, pulling you up to his chest by your hair. "you think some fuckin' fratboy can fuck you like I can? hm? answer me."

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who is actually a complete sweetheart, on the inside, very, very deep down.

                                                

                                                 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

© WEBDOLLZZ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[pookiepiss69]

CURTIS GANG BUT GENDERBENT HCS!!

(I was staring at a wall in 4 of my classes thinking abt this today)

Ponyboy

Bad bob final boss.

Stop it she's in that bad haircut phase (and it only gets worse)

Fast metabolism.

Wears all of darrys old clothes (cannot be fucked to change names)

Gets made fun of for not wearing skirts and stuff

If blud wears a skirt it is SO long.

Like past knees.

Tried to wear makeup to school once steve clowned her so bad

Like orange foundation.

Sodapop

Face card.

IMMACULATE

She'd be one of those beachy girls

THEY DONT EVEN LIVE NEAR A BEACH.

has a tan that everyone's jealous of

Doesn't wear skirts (face card is enough.)

Like she's wearing the baggiet things but her face makes up for it

eats a shit ton of sweets but NEVER gets fat

(Steve's jealous)

Has 0 routine for anything.

Darry

NASTY bitch slap

Y'all thought bro slapping pony was bad.

Like if she's out in public n someone catcalls blud is getting SLAPPED.

Tank top final boss.

Lil bro will not be caught anywhere without one

Jennifer tilly lookalike.

Has surprisingly long hair

It's like brown and shiny

TOO shiny.

Lash extensions.

Has KILLER legs

Like people would kill for them

Like not muscly or anything but like y'all know that one episode of teen titans were raven shows her leg.

That.

two bit

Raggedy Ann.

Fucking ginger with 2 plats

Freckles

Gap tooth.

Looks like a Wendy's logo

DOES NOT GIVE 2 SHITS ABOUT WHAT SHE LOOKS LIKE.

Wakes up, hair in plaits, eats, walks out the door.

Cheap wine enthusiast

Faded red nail polish

Naturally long lashes

Steve

Pushup bra final boss.

Rolled skirt final boss.

Like the dx has a uniform were you have to wear a skirt below the knee

NUH UHHH

Rolls that shit like there's no tomorrow

Has one of those complicated curly hair routines

Patchy fake tan. Like lit snow white in one spot and orange in another

Also has lash clusters.

Jealous of soda bc she is always thin

Lil bros insecure

'Fuck i should really go on a diet' *eats an entire chocolate cake*

LONG ASS FAKE NAILS THAT SHE COMPLAINS ABOUT

Take them off.

Really choppy fringe

Johnny

LONG ASS NATURAL LASHES.

everyone's jealous

Uneven hair (pony did it)

Long skirts.

Long sleeve shirts.

That typa vibe

Greasy hair

Sorry not sorry

no waist.

Like bro was in the wind, blew the shirt back and everyone qas like DAMNNN.

Dallas

Shitty bleach

Dead hair

Bad makeup

Still insists to use it

Maneater

Can SPRINT in heels

Leather

80s vibe

[blinkngone]

light years.

Silence resides like an unwelcome guest in the Burrow. On the days he doesn’t go to the Ministry, Harry mostly sits at the table in the Burrow’s kitchen, picking the skin on his lips. New post-war commodity at the Burrow: dirty dishes populating the a sink that has always been spic and span. A glass of water on the table that he never drinks. Harry Potter, saviour of the Wizarding World, rotting in the kitchen of a crooked, sun-bathed house. Out of the corner of his eyes, past the kitchen window, there is a blur of red and ivory. Sometimes he watches this blur flit back and forth between the frame of the window, sometimes he puts his head on the table, closes his eyes. Wills himself to remember her skin on his, the smell of her on his jaws. She feels a lifetime away. Centuries pass before he lifts his head back up again. The slant of the sun lengthens on the table. Near the edge, G.W is inscribed on the wood, below it, the initials of her brothers. These words belong to another time, when pain came from breaking elbows in the yard, gnome biting their toes, bee stings from the hives sticking to the trees. These days, pain comes from things they shouldn’t have even experienced.

“Your childhood was robbed from you,” Kingsley told Harry one time when they were repairing the greenhouses at Hogwarts. Amid the havoc of the war, green plants shot up regardless.

So much more than just his childhood was robbed from him, Harry wanted to tell the Minister. His life was almost snatched from him. His future, his people, all the love he could’ve had. He didn’t say anything, just shrugged. After, as he stood near the lake smoking a cigarette, squirrels scampered away from him. Like they knew this life he had, was more tinted with death than any eighteen year old life should be.

/

Now, the sounds from outside populate the silence of the Burrow. With Ron and Hermione in Australia, Mrs. Weasley at the Shell Cottage, and the others at the Ministry, the house seems to be an extension of the aching loneliness he feels. Lately, he is consumed by the need to do something, anything except attend hearings at the Ministry and helping at Hogwarts. There is a constant restlessness between his ribs. In bed sometimes, he cannot feel his body anymore, feels like he is becoming more and more unmoored from this plane of existence. In the bathroom that mostly smells of shampoo that Mrs. Weasley makes from the flowers from the Burrow’s orchard, he looks at the reflection in the cracked mirror above the sink, and is unable to locate himself.

Ginny, he observes, embodies his restlessness. She is wild that summer, Ginny. He sees it. She prowls around the Burrow at night, lithe and haunting. A ghost. In daylight, she is as fleeting as an afterthought. She is gone before he’s up, and thinks no one notices how she is beginning to disappear, parts of her falling off and getting lost. Untended grief settling in those empty spaces. Harry becomes increasingly concerned, but no one has taught him how to prevent another person from disappearing into darkness. Framed in the window of his room in the attic, he too, looks ghastly. If it weren’t for the throb of pain in his open wounds, the sting of summer on his red burns, he wouldn’t be able to tell if he were human, Harry thinks.

He remembers their days at Hogwarts, how she’d demand he sit against the trees and watch her fly. Eyes glinting, and a wicked grin on her face, she’d deftly braid her hair into a plait. Broom between her legs, she’d say, “Top this, Potter.”

And he watched, because how could he not. After everything he’d seen in his sixteen years of life, she was a miracle. Later, he’d unbraid her hair, lips on the column of her neck, tasting the wind on her skin.

These days, the only forms of interaction between them are: their dirty cups stacked on top of each other, strands of hair she sometimes leaves in the bathroom sink, her clothes and his tangled in the laundry hamper.

/

It happens on an ordinary afternoon. He stops a few feet away from the Burrow, near the chicken coup to smoke a cigarette. Today, he met Kingsley at the Ministry. He offered Harry a spot in the Auror Department.

They sat opposite each other at the table in the Minister of Magic’s office. He told the Minister, “I have to think about it.”

“Yes, Harry. Take your time. Maybe wait till Ron and Hermione are back.”

“Ron and Hermione, yeah,” he said. It dawned on him that he’d never taken an important decision without them by his side. He was so wholly inadequate without the two of them.

The birds chirp in the orchard now, the breeze heavy with humidity. Dragonflies buzz over his head. Hermione once told him, when she was little, she’d look out the window of her bedroom in the hopes of seeing dragonflies.

“Dragonflies mean heavy rain!” her Mum used to tell her. In his last letter, Ron wrote Mrs. Granger’s memory was proving difficult to be restored. She was still unable to remember Hermione.

It sure feels like heavy rain today. He blows the smoke out, slowly. Taps his finger against the cigarette and watches the column of ash fall away.

“What’s that?”

He turns around to see Ginny, broom against her hip, standing where the orchard gives away to tall and wide grass blades. Her voice sounds different, rusty from the lack of use.

“Cigarette,” he tells her.

“What?”

“Muggle shit.”

She just lifts her eyebrows, her mouth perched on the brink of laughter. Her hair is wild, sweat shining on her face. For a few seconds they look at each other. He is afraid to look away.

“Want to try?” he asks her.

She shrugs and steps forward. He covers the distance between them in three long strides.

/

The floating foliage of the leaves makes shadow patterns on their bodies. The sunlight feels old, slightly muted. She he likes the way the yellow light catches the tiny hairs on his arms, bringing out the dark butterscotch of his emerald pupils, makes his face look unbelievably beautiful. They pass a cigarette back and forth, the both of them lying on a patch of asymmetrical sunlight, the dew from the grass wetting the back of their thin shirts. He blows the smoke from the corner of his mouth, so that the left side of his face disappears momentarily in this white smoke, then reappears in the very next instant. She can smell the scent of her own hair, like wildflowers, and wishes he smells it, too, over the smell of his cigarette.

He doesn't speak much, nor does she. But his lingering looks burn into her skin, make her feel more than a wound that won’t scab, not even at the edges. Yesterday she took him to the pond, and they sat near the edge, with their feet in the water. Green weeds curled around their calves. Their shoulders were touching.

He said, “I thought about you, a lot. You know, when I was away.”

She blinked at him and wondered if it was too early to tell him about hurting in his dorm, seeing his face every time they shot a Cruciatus at her, willing to die than divulge any information that might be used against him.

“Oh.” She touched her chest with her palm. She looked out at the pond, listened to the croaking of the frogs on the green pads of leaves bigger than the sun in the sky. She wanted to give him her heart, knew he’d cradle it in his rough palms delicately, with the kind of tenderness that touches you once in twelve million light years.

“I stole your jumper,” she told him. “Wore it to bed.” Every night.

She turned to look at him the same moment he looked away. She caught the shy upturn of his smile sideways, for a fleeting moment, and revelled in it for the entire night.

She turns to him now, props herself on her elbows. He looks up at her. There are a million things she wants to tell him. The most important of which, perhaps, is that she loves him. Wants them to heal together.

“Harry.”

He stubs his cigarette in one quick motion. The contours of his lips, the wetness of his tongue are painfully familiar. Beautifully so.

[justcallmefox89]

Gale and the Gith: Chapter One - Firelight

Fluff, inexperienced gith Tav tries to make sense of his feelings towards a certain wizard.

“What on earth are you staring at, my dear?”

Gale starts guiltily at Astarion’s question, nearly dropping his book into the fire.  Astarion follows his line of sight, smirking knowingly when it lands on X’aa’nath.  Gale’s face heats under the elf’s scrutiny.

“I am merely curious about him!  Them!  The pair of them!  The both of them!” Gale stammers defensively.  “It’s a purely academic interest, I assure you.  I read extensively about the githyanki during my time at Blackstaff Academy and to now be traveling with not one, but two, and two so very different githyanki at that.  My mind is fairly brimming with questions I wish to ask.”

Astarion’s face falls.  “How very… scholarly of you.  I’m going to leave now; I fear that if I stay I’ll die of boredom before the tadpole has a proper chance to kill me.”

Gale huffs and rolls his eyes, reading a few more lines of his tome before once again looking up from the yellowed, worn pages and gazing at the young githyanki sorcerer as he prepares for bed.  Unlike the militaristic simplicity of his kin’s sleeping arrangement, X’aa’nath carefully crafts what Gale can only call a ‘nest’, constructed of blankets and spare scraps of soft fabric he’s collected on their journey thus far. 

X’aa’nath’s silver eyes flash in the firelight as he sits back on his heels, surveying his bedding and nodding in satisfaction.  The fire gives his skin -a pale gold-green- a ruddy glow, and sets his snow-colored hair alight.  Gale watches, fascinated, as he undoes the long plait of his hair, and carefully brushes twigs and bits of dirt free of his thick hair, frowning when he encounters a troublesome snarl. 

Something warm curls low in Gale’s stomach when X’aa’nath catches his lower lip between his sharp teeth, gnawing on it in concentration as he meticulously brushes each bit of debris from his hair.  The urge to lean over and run his thumb over that plush lower lip, to feel sharp teeth and the moist warmth of X’aa’nath’s mouth against the calloused skin of his thumb nearly overtakes the wizard.  Gale tips his head back and breathes deeply, pushing the dangerous thought aside.  

*****************************************************************

“The human stares at you, kin.”  Lae’zel drops bonelessly to the ground beside me, tucking her legs beneath her.

I glance quickly over to Gale, then return my attention to my plait, shrugging one shoulder, uncertain what to say to my kin’s observation. 

“Shall I kill him for you?” she asks.  “He’s only a wizard after all, and a human at that.  Even the half-elf has more use.”

“No,” I say slowly.  “If he proves troublesome I shall kill him myself, kin.”

“As you say.”

I watch Lae’zel return to her own tent, still feeling Gale’s eyes on me.  It’s not that the wizard’s stares bother me exactly, but after so many years in solitude with my varsh as my only companion, adjusting to the company of others has been… difficult.  Doubly so when I’ve been forced together with these strangers because we each carry a ghaik parasite. 

And surely it is because of the parasite that my heart races when Gale’s eyes meet mine.  Just as the campfire is the cause of the sudden heat in my cheeks when he offers me a small smile and a murmured goodnight.

[gaybae1021]

Katelyn’s Hair Journey

If you can’t tell, I like changes in character design that are symbolic of their development.

Child/teen

Down most of the time, covering her ears, or pulled back in a high ponytail when she needed to work. Eric did his best to make sure her and her siblings had their hair taken care of, but with finances and time stretched so thin there was usually only time for basic care. Even when there was special time to get their hair done, Katelyn would prioritize her siblings over herself.

Jury

At this point Katelyn still isn’t accepting of her elven heritage, but Kasey makes a strong point that the jury is much more of a spectacle than any normal guard position, and Katelyn should show off what makes her unique. So she opts for a plait hairstyle that twists up into a bun, her ears on full display. It’s a fancier look than her earlier style, but is still something she can do without needing others.

Season 1/early season 2

Small change, but once she joins Phoenix drops she stops pinning up the braid, showing how she’s starting to let loose but her hair, just like her, is still somewhat stuck in the past.

Yggdrasil Arc

Okay so I’ve tried very hard to make Katelyn’s hairstyles realistic to her situation and comfort levels. So that meant early on, her hair care was very minimal and practical, and was focused on styles she could do by herself quickly. While she was capable of learning other ways to style her hair, she didn’t have the time to do the proper upkeep, and didn’t trust others enough to do it for her.

After her fight with Ivy, Katelyn was bedridden for quite a while and her hair wasn’t given much attention. It got quite damaged during this time, and even if they could restore it Katelyn could no longer do her own hair, at least not to the same extent as before. So she made the hard choice to cut off most of it. It was a very difficult time for her, but it was ultimately necessary for her to get a fresh start, both with her hair and life overall.

I like the idea here but I think this design came out kinda icky. Cranking up the saturation on her skin just made it way too orange, especially compared to her normal palette. Maybe she’d look better if it wasn’t right next to her other calmer color palette, but I might pull back on the saturation if I draw her in this phase again. Idk maybe because she’s a half elf or maybe because she won’t be bonded for very long she doesn’t have to be as saturated as the other elves.

Season 3

Luckily, her elven heritage makes her hair grow quicker than usual. By the start of season 3 she had regained most of her original length and it was further lengthened by putting it into box braids.

I feel they’re a good mix of practical and expressive. They can be pulled back into a ponytail for no nonsense training. Or they can be put up into a bun with hair jewelry for fancy occasions. Or anything in between. Even though it’s still braids they’re more versatile and flowy than her previous single plait, showing how’s she’s letting loose after her hard reset while still keeping her more reserved personality in mind.

Also I read a post specifically talking about native hairstyles but I also feel it applies here, where hair is believed to be an extension of oneself and braids can symbolize love or care. So I like that Katelyn shifts from one braid she does by herself, to many braids that others do for her.

[beansidhebumbling]

Snippet from Feysand Exes

This has grown so I won't get it all done tonight. Enjoy the story so far.

The sharp tapping of his Montblanc pen against the stained table was the only sound that echoed through the empty shop.  

A sign of the times.  

Sat opposite the love of his life and not able to find a way to split the stale air between them.  

He was a man who had spent his whole career crafting words yet somehow, she had always defied description.  

Feyre Archeron could not be limited, not by language, not by him.  

** 

‘Why are you here Prime Minister?’ 

Fuck.  

Her voice did not embody the warm freckles that dotted her nose, the wavy hair plaited down her back, the shining gold light he’d associated with her from the beginning, from those hazy days in the back fields of Cornwall. No, this new creation was sharp and clipped, a weak imitation of that of her viper of a sister.  

Nesta had not forgiven him. It might have been the only thing he liked about the lawyer who seemed to take a strange joy in landing cases on his desk. The Daily Mail had nearly wet themselves when she’d accused him of treason on live television, the witch. 

Mor was still cleaning up that particular mess. 

‘Call me Rhys, please Feyre. We’re old friends.’ 

She burst out laughing at that and though he knew it was surely at his expense, he still leaned in to absorb it. Because how many nights had he replayed that lilting melody when confronted with the sterile expanse of his empty bed? Over a decade later she lingered in the watercolour paintings of his dreams, following him from the Night Manor to his London townhouse to Downing Street.  

The echo of her presence had remained even as she had faded from his life, from his social circle, from the furthest peripheries of his extensive reach. 

‘I’d say if this is how you treat your friends Velaris....’ 

Her voice trailed off for a moment, sadness painting hazel eyes and piercing his heart.  

‘But we both know how you treat your enemies.’ 

She gestured lazily to the day-old paper beside the bundle of finely fletched ash arrows on the sideboard.  

Eris Vanserra’s eyes bore into him from the front page, face tipped from chiselled to skeletal, once sleek red hair now a ratty mess.  

He worked hard to hide the smirk that pulled threateningly at the seams of his mouth.  

Unsuccessfully if Feyre’s huff was anything to go by.  

‘The Vanserra boy had to be dealt with.’  

He kept his voice low and sweet, eyes earnest and posture sincere. Like a fool. Pretending with the one of the only people who had ever seen him. The only one who’d ever liked what they saw.  

Once. 

‘Don’t pull that shite with me Velaris.’

[fictoromanticism]

hi! im someone who's just getting into selfshipping- do you have any terms beginners should know?

i don’t think selfshipping is too vocabulary-intensive; there aren’t a whole lot of terms involved and they’re often pretty self-explanatory. these are the ones that come to mind:

f/o is short for fictional other, a play on the term significant other. f/o on its own usually denotes a romantic relationship because of the play on significant other, but it’s become somewhat shorthand for ANY type of relationship with a character, so people often add a modifier, for example as in “platonic f/o” (meaning a character one considers a friend).

self-inserts are generally OCs used for selfshipping. they can vary from being literally the author written into the fictional universe as if they were transported there magically to a character who barely resembles the author beyond that they’re there for the author to project on to fulfill the relationship. not every selfshipper uses a self-insert, though!

imagines are posts designed to present a pleasing circumstance or prompt further exploration of a scenario in the reader’s mind; for example, “imagine brushing your long-haired f/o’s hair and putting it in a plait or ponytail”. they are similar to but distinct from reader-insert fanfiction because they’re very short-form and in the context of the selfship community typically don’t center around a specific character (although those sorts of imagines also exist).

reader-insert fanfiction (or “x readers”) are more long-form and sometimes fairly specific written works in the same vein as imagines. it’s possible to find more vague “insert-character-here x reader” fiction, but typically the character is pre-established. these usually have any mentions of important details like names written out with terms intended to be replaced in a word processor or with a browser extension, such as “(Y/N)” for the reader’s name. they’re usually written in second person.

a lot of people will talk about changing or updating their lists, which is just shorthand for lists of f/os for those who have multiple. people who have a lot may also have a sort of ranking system or system of categories in their list, which varies from person to person but often takes the form of a main f/o, secondary f/os, and crushes (characters a person may like but who they don’t really selfship with actively).

if anyone would like to add some vocabulary they think is necessary that i haven't addressed in the replies, please feel free!

-mod moon

[teamplasmaofficial]

Pray tell, Ghetsis, how exactly do you maintain hair as long as yours? Asking for a friend.

My hair? Why, most of it is natural. I do not have an extensive routine. I wash my hair with BulbaBloom brand wash every two days, and brush it throughout the day as required. That is the extent of my care. I keep my hair worn in a plait overnight to reduce knotting.

Hopefully this can be of use to you.

[silverhallow]

I don't know which modern-day AU this fits best (feel like I automatically file every photo as either PAWS or AWOA 😂) but this photo looks very much like baby Sophie with auntie Sarah or auntie Becky, maybe whilst a summer at Aubrey Hall? Could we get a glimpse of Sophie & auntie with the other ladies at Aubrey Hall?

Okay so this is totally Baby Sophie in When We Were Young with her Aunt Becky.

The Summer when little Sophie is three years old and full of wild energy and excitement at everything in the world and she’s been tearing around after Benedict, Anthony, the Rokesby cousin’s and Kate.

Richard dressed her in a simple pair of shorts and white shirt and whilst Sophie had begged for her hair to be plaited like Kate’s her hair simply was too short so he had managed to convince her that little bunches would be better than pigtails and she’d eventually gone tearing off through the house into the gardens with her friends.

It was only after an hour of playing hide and seek that Anthony realised that they were missing a member of their group…

Sophie had disappeared and no one had been able to find her and as it was starting to get closer to lunchtime. Anthony had promised his mother that they would all be up and he and Benedict had promised to look after Sophie since she was so little.

But when Henry and Thomas had suggested they play hide and seek in the gardens they had all scattered…

And Sophie, well she was nowhere to be seen. Anthony, Benedict and Kate were frantic, the gardens at Aubrey were very extensive and whilst they usually stayed in one part of the garden it did include the flower garden and Sophie, being so small could be anywhere…

After 30 minutes of everyone looking for her, they knew they were going to have to go up to the house and tell the parents they couldn’t find Sophie, and honestly, Anthony would rather have Kate kick him in the balls again than tell Uncle Richard they had lost his daughter…

But as they were making their way up to the house looking glum, Becky was making her way out of the house and they all breathed a sigh of relief “hey kids… what… what’s wrong?” she asked when she saw the glum looks on the three kids' faces.

The Rokesby clan had done a runner back to Crake House to avoid Richard’s fury.

“We… we erm….” Anthony and Benedict stammered.

“They’ve lost Sissy” Kate said, rolling her eyes at the boy's cowardness.

“You…. you've lost her how?”

“Henry and Thomas suggested we play hide and seek and she came and hid with me… but I ended up sneezing and giving myself away but when they came to look for Fee… she… she wasn’t there?” Benedict said glumly.

“Odd…”

“I know! We’ve checked everywhere!! But we can’t see her…” Anthony added

Becky sighed “Come on, I am sure we can find her, she won’t have gone far and she’s probably just fallen asleep somewhere, are Henry and Thomas looking for her?”

“No they ran away home frightened that Uncle Richard will shout at them” Kate said with an annoyed look on her face.

“Well they’re not wrong but Uncle Rich never needs to know as we’re going to find her.”

“But she’s soooooo little! She could be anywhere, she’s like a mouse!”

“Yes but you forget one very important thing about Sophie” Becky said putting her arm around 4 year old Benedict who looked very serious and upset at the thought he had lost Sophie.

“What?” he asked his little blue eyes hopeful

“She likes the flowers here”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” Benedict said “but we checked…”

“But did you look in the flower beds? She’ll have tucked herself in and just lay in the flowers…” Becky grinned as they walked into the flower gardens and towards the taller bunches of flowers.

“Oh of course she would! She’s so little she gets in all the tiny places!” Kate said as she took off at a run looking down into the beds of all the flowers as she tried to spot her best friend.

Anthony and Benedict did the same thing and it was Anthony who let out a jubilant “I’VE FOUND HER!” 

Sophie had crawled away from Benedict, when she heard the loud feet of Henry running towards them and she hadn’t gone much further, just two or three rows over and she settled herself in the red and orange chrysanthemums and waited to be found but after a few minutes and no one was coming to look for her, she lay down giggling to herself before she fell asleep, all the excitement of the morning wearing the little 3 year old out.

So when Anthony yelled loudly, it gave her such a fright, she awoke startled and burst into tears

“Oh no… nooo Sophie i’m sorry, don’t cry!” 5 year old Anthony said crouching down to try and comfort the crying girl.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Benedict roared as he ran over to see his crying best friend and Becky and Kate ran over.

“I… i think she got a fright” he said as Sophie bawled her eyes out.

“Ohhhh Mon Chou” Becky said as she knelt down and picked her niece up and cuddled her “it’s okay, i know you got a fright” she said wiping her nieces eyes as she cried and looked around with confused tired eyes.

“What… what happened?” she sniffled

“You fell asleep in the flowers and no one could find you Fee!! We were really worried”

“Papa?” Sophie asked 

“Doesn’t know you went missing and we won’t say anything okay” Becky said looking around the four children who all nodded

“Now come on, let's get you up to the house, you little madam need a nap and some lunch…” Becky said touching her nieces nose “as do the rest of you” 

“I don’t need a nap” Anthony said but the yawn gave him away

“Okay but you still need lunch” Becky said, leading the group of kids back to the house.

Richard had just been coming out to get all the kids for lunch and had no idea what was going on but Edmund had given him his disposable camera just in case the kids had all fallen asleep down on the grass like they had the week before and it had been so cute, Kate and Anthony had fallen asleep and ended up holding hands and Sophie had her head on Benedict’s chest and when hey had found them hey had wished they had brought the camera down.

“Oh Becky!” Richard said as he spotted them all, “is everything okay?” he asked, seeing his daughter's red tear stained face.

“All good bro, Sophie just fell asleep and got a bit of a fright when we woke her up, they’d been playing football and Sophie fell asleep watching” Becky lied easily.

All the kids nodded their head in agreement and all three kids on their feet ran into the house, knowing they weren’t very good at lying to an adult, especially Uncle Richard who had a stare that made them feel like they were being xrayed (it is a trait Sophie inherits and learns to use with even more power than her father)

“They’re all a bit hungry” Becky said “but I think we best get Sophie inside and get some lunch eh?” she turned and walked away.

And as they walked away the picture of Becky with his daughter on her hip made his heart swell of happiness and he snapped the photo. It made him wish that Esme was still alive to see this.

He had had no reason to not believe his sister’s words and assumed that Sophie’s tears were from everything and that the kids had just been hungry, until the Rokesby’s came over for dinner that night and Henry just yelled “OH YOU FOUND HER!”

And the Rokesby cousin’s who had tried to avoid Richard’s rage… got it full force…and banned Sophie from playing Hide and Seek until she was at least 10.

And Sophie burst into tears again because she didn’t want to be left out, she was always left out, and it was that day… that Sophie learned how to use the trademark Gunningworth Glare, after she finished crying that is.

[7ambofgod]

RE|| LAZARUS RISING

co-written with @viciousvizard 

.   Nemu stands poised with respect as a few old members of the twelfth division have tuned into the screens observing a bay in the fourth division. Their attention is focused on just one small woman. There are tubes inserted into her mouth, her arms, her wrists, even a medical device siphoning kidou out of her. All these tubes and attachments are plugged into a frail girl bandaged thickly around the middle. The bandages are changed every hour like clockwork by diligent shinigami in the fourth division.

.   Liver damage, extensive. 4th stage renal failure. Double stents drained into a catheter balloon. A biliary drain desperately salvaging healthy liver tissue to inhibit the inflammation. Spinal fluid repair done through her brain.

.   Nemu glances at the screen and in the medical bay, there is a great scuffle and argument off screen. Finally, Unohana Retsu sweeps into view and places a gentle hand on Isane Kotetsu’s shoulder. She allows for an exception this time. Nemu observes the ‘exception’ that Unohana Retsu has granted in her usually well-organised, sterile ward.

.  These are friends of the injured girl. They are also worse for wear. Limping from battle, but unmoving from the medical bay. These unusual beings of half hollow and half shinigami soul are protective. They form a protective barrier between the fair-haired girl and the other, prying shinigami. She is only allowed the courtesy to observe from a screen. But she observes well. The faces of that girl’s friends. They are all unfamiliar to her. She is a new face, but they are all old. She can feel Mayuri-Sama close by, looking completely uninterested in the ordeal, but he has not ordered Nemu to make herself useful in the few moments she has been watching that woman. And he does not order any of the 12th division Shinigami to move either. This is unusual.

.   “Sarugaki Hiyori pronounced dea-”

.   “NO! HIYORI!” Nemu does not know who that cry belongs to. It is from her group of friends, all desperate, tired and heartbroken. They look ready to fight the grim reaper themselves. All of them are crying - - until Unohana Retsu sweeps forwards once more and smiles.

.   The girl’s vital signs have picked up. A great sigh of relief has been released over everyone. They are all still crying.

.   Nemu briefly, selfishly… wonders if there would be any who would shed tears for her if she was to be mortally wounded.

.   “That moron wasn’t going to die so easily.” Nemu turns, her eyes widening as she notes that Mayuri-Sama has made the comment. He’s finally impatient. “Well? The show is over. Nemu, get over here!”

.   The plaited girl bows her head. “Yes, Mayuri-Sama.”

.   And that is how she found herself within a few hours facing the very tired, very drained… but very angry Sarugaki Hiyori.

.   “I am Kurotsuchi Nemu, lieutenant of the 12th division.”

.   The girl had looked baffled at the sight of her. But could not do much. Not even speak. She looked at Nemu’s badge, a grimace of pain flashing in those big, brown eyes. They were so expressive, even in death.

.   Nemu only learned later on… this was the former lieutenant of the 12th division. The one who rose from the verge of death because of her unusual regeneration abilities.

.  She was one of the first to know Mayuri-Sama as a free man. She vows to know her better.

[mannakete]

#wolqotd’s from twitter, Adelline Roux edition

> Hoes does your wol(oc) feel about their name? (from RikaXIV on twt) related q:  depending on culture or circumstance, does your WoL have an alias or multiple names? How did they get their new name? (from OriWhiteDeer on twt)

Adelline enjoys her name quite a lot since she’s distanced herself from her birthplace so much, she no longer has any connection to her birth parents or tribe.

>  Does your WoL have a signature hairstyle or is your WoL like me who fancies changing hairstyles every now and then? (from rinkunffxiv)

Gyr Abanian Plait. Adelline has a tendency to neglect taking care of her hair (in that she leaves it long) so Vynya tied it up in this style and it hasn’t changed (much) since. [Tho I have tried other, shorter hairstyles I always go back to the plait in the end)

>  Just out of curiosity, how old are your WoLs in your canon? (from Mortinfami ART (answered last year))

Adelline would be in her early 30s now based on how I personally see the story progression (which is the irl time it takes for the patch releases is how long it takes for the year to progress. I’m sorry, Thancred did not go through All of That in a few months)

> who's your wol/oc's favorite twin: alpinhaud, or alisaie? (from protractions on twt)

Adelline favors Alphinaud a LITTLE more. Part of it is feeling partially responsible for a lot of the things that have gone wrong during the story. She’s usually attentive to details, she missed many things in the early days in Eorzea as she was preoccupied with Raze and Vynya’s safety in a new continent. She also feels more comfortable nudging him back on track when she has the mind to. Also she’s never had a brother, she only has a sister. So she likes the novelty

> I assume the question was about the WoL’s feelings about the end of Crystal Tower, but the tweet no longer exists sadly

Adelline (and Raze) was pretty sad about it. She does not enjoy people sacrificing themselves (hi shb) but she knows too well from travelling that partings come, but she still wasn’t prepared for a parting like this.

>  I have another incredibly important wol question. summer theme let's go. could they crush a(n allagan) watermelon between their thighs. (from catnipfarm)

Adelline could with a bit of effort. And by effort, I mean you need to get the “why” through to her.

> (Endwalker spoilers)  While recovering from the final fight with Zenos, who comes to visit them? Do they even want/allow visitors? (from InMyLeyLines)

Adelline didn’t get to choose either way, Raze made sure of that. Adelline allowed it, not only because Raze suddenly became a miqo’te shaped octopus, but also because if she didn’t, Raze probably wouldn’t have slept well. 

 >  If your ffxiv character wasn't the warrior of light, what would they be instead? Job quest npc? Custom deliveries npc? Raid story npc? Whacky sidequest npc? (from Loudwindow)

Adelline was a wanderer before she became the WoL in her plotline, and that’s what she (and the others) would be if she was never chosen/a shard of Azem.

>  How did your WoL take learning about their Azem? (from faeth_s)

Adelline doesn’t care. The past is past and Azem isn’t her anymore regardless of what people say about it thus she holds no attachment to the identity or name, both good and bad. [I have not thought extensively about my WoL’s Azems because I don’t deep dive into lore enough to do that.)

>  What's the most unnatural job for your WoL to play? What's the least suited to them as a person/their combat style? (from byletri)

Healing and pure magic classes of any kind. She prefers being upfront to cover the more magically adept fighters.

>  Inspired by a recent question about what scents they like: I want to know what their magic smells like! If they're not a caster, are there any scents you associate with particular kinds of magic in general? (from InMyLeyLines)

Adelline's is either like a completely sterilized room or a restaurant's spice cabinet

>  WOL/OC question: what disciple of the land/hand jobs do you consider canon for your WOL? Is there any special context in their story? Are there some that they like and partake in but maybe aren't very good at? (from thancredulous)

Adelline likes Alchemy. She’s especially good at potion brewing and making drinks, Everything else she’s not super good at. Usually she applies too much force but she’s somehow managed to be patient and careful enough for potions

>  Did your Wol want to be a Wol? (from RikaXIV)

Absolutely not. All Adelline concerned herself with before was keeping her family safe, but now she had to do that and she could no longer make the decision that they could just leave the area when things got too dangerous.

>  What type of crier is your WoL? Loud, ugly-sobbing type, or perhaps it takes far too much to get even a single tear? (from WoLQuestions)

Adelline doesn’t cry outwardly. She’ll stubbornly hold it in until it becomes FAR too much (such as what happened with “In From the Cold”) but even then, it’s quietly and in private. Not even Raze has seen her break down. 

>  On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being incredibly easy, and 10 being nearly impossible, how difficult is it to date your WoL/RP OC? (from ChubScarlet)

10. She’s in a committed relationship and I don’t do polyships.  But just for fun, Adelline would realistically be an 8 because you need to be pretty fucking blunt with her.

>  everyone wants an ishgardian ballroom scene but how well would your wol actually handle all those noble lords and ladies mobbing them for dances (from radicrow)

Adelline would hate it because she’s just plain not interested. 

>  Who is your WoL’s emotional support? (from WoLQuestions)

Raze and her sister, Vynya. She HAS gotten closer to the scions enough to consider them true companions but she wouldn’t go to them for her own emotional needs.

>  What kind of video games would your wol play in a modern AU? Any reason for that? (from CGekkou)

Adelline would play RPGs. She’ll also play MonHun on co-op with Vynya or Stardew with Raze (raze LOVES stardew). Her favorite series is Atelier (but don’t tell anyone). 

>  Your WoL returns to their childhood home. How do they react? (from AnrhiOri)

She doesn’t care. She has no attachment to that land and she would leave as soon as she could.

>  What would be your WoL's catchphrase when you select them in the Trust menu? (from FF_XIV_EN (official)

if healer, "If I have to.." If Tank or DPS, "Don't dawdle."

>  Cringe/comedy/awkward scenario— given how known the WoL is now; what would YOUR WoL/D do if just outside the Rising Stones a bunch of obnoxious fans now gather to try and get a glimpse of them??? (from SmolWol)

Adelline pushes her way through while being absolutely embarrassed to the seven hells by the attention

>  where was your wol during the calamity at the end of 1.0? (from bardings)

On another continent, she hadn’t yet made it to eorzea with the others.

Non qotd facts from my twt: > Adelline is a TERRIBLE liar > She had several scars, due to being a melee fighter. So she’s littered with small cuts and probably a few puctures > she has said her name was “Nyadelline” to Raze once while shitfaced drunk. Raze punched her for it.

Adelline’s class path:  (2.0) WAR > (2.1+) SAM > (3.0) SAM > (4.0) SAM > (5.0) SAM > (6.0) RPR

[huntressthewizard]

[ BLOOM ]:         sender weaves a number of flowers through the receiver’s hair. -- @wolfvirago​

🍃🏹➳  ❝ I’ve never worked with HYLIAN hair before, ❞   The DEKU girl stated,  fiddling and weaving the premature deku BLOOMS into the girl’s hair.   It was SO much easier and softer than her SISTER’s back home--  coarse,  rough,  and STIFF as PINE needles (because they WERE),  and HER hair was considered the EASIER to manage hair types amongst Deku Scrubs.

                    ❝ There you ARE,  one TRADITIONAL Deku Scrub flower braid. ❞   Although the girl’s blonde hair was SHORT,  it was still DOABLE for the singular PLAIT,  and the VINES substituted for EXTENSIONS.

                   ❝ No NEED for payment-- we hope you ENJOY the FESTIVAL. ❞

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Hair braiding

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[reasoningdaily]

To see the entire page of 50 styles click the header to continue to the original article

Cornrows offer one of the most popular, cool and trendy hairstyles for black women. Cornrow braided hairstyles require a unique ability to braid hair close to the scalp to create cool designs and beautiful styles. These cornrow styles can be simple, natural, classic, modern, sexy, big, small and just about everything in between. To help you see the latest trending braid styles, here are the best cornrow braids to get this year. From box braids to straight back rows, these cornrow hairstyles will transform your look and truly let your hair shine!

Cornrow Braid Styles

Big Cornrow Braids

There are many benefits of the big cornrow style of braids: they are easy to maintain, the strands of hair are thicker and therefore take less time to braid. Best of all, cornrow braided hairstyles just look amazing. These braid styles are a bold approach to a classic hairstyle for black women, and can be dressed up with accessories or left bare for a more natural feel.

Side Cornrow Braids

Like the lemonade locks that Beyonce has been known to rock, side cornrow braids are stylish, cool, and come with a lot of versatility. Braid the side of the head for a dramatic undercut, or add thicker braids to the smaller cornrows. Either way, you will dazzle with the diversity that this braided hairstyle offers.

Two Cornrow Braids

Sometimes referred to as box braids for the boxy shape they provide, the two cornrow braids are a timeless style that emit power and confidence. The look is achieved by an underhand braiding method that stays close to the scalp and separates the hair into two thicker braids. Whether you’re going for athletic or stylish, you can’t go wrong with this two-strand method.

Cornrow Braids with Natural Hair

Embrace cornrows with natural hair. Add a few cornrow braids into the mix and feel free to show off your hair sans treatment and without being straightened. Get creative and experiment with small and big braided hair with thick curly Afro hair for a contrast. There are many ways to approach this look, including small side cornrows, a faux undercut, or a tiny faux hawk.

Two Cornrow Braids with Extensions

Add a little extra length to the aforementioned box braids. Two cornrow braids with extensions are a fun style to further show off your facial features and give off a sexy and sultry vibe. The extensions make this braided look even more eye-catching, further separating you from the crowd.

Four Cornrow Braids

The four cornrow braids look is a throwback to the classic African interpretation of plaiting hair. It involves working the braids up your head, and can be modified by playing with the angle of the braiding. You can stick with the simple and successful recipe, which is braiding the hair all at the same angle, or add a modern twist by keeping the sides straight. The variation of cornrows keeps them both interesting and traditional.

Five Cornrow Braids

You don’t have to stop with four – add dimension and another section for the five cornrow braids look. You can braid all of your hair or opt to leave some of your hair out and curly, starting from the nape of the neck. This half-up-half down style is great to show a mix of texture and femininity.

To see the entire page of 50 styles click the header to continue to the original article

[ramashairbeauty]

Deep Wave Remy Human Hair Extensions

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