#platine blonde

[angelicfeather]

🪽🤍

[blondedingdong]

Blondie jumpscare WOAH! (⊙ˍ⊙) Refreshed my silver hair dye last night and I'm so happy with it. Also don't mind how tired I look oop. =v="

[iamasimperyk]

A good fic idea maybe his ex wife comes over and the reader is over and the wife goes crazy saying that her and rafe are talking again or spent the night together and he’s not home so she leaves because she doesn’t want to start anything so rafe has to find the reader

Sorry that I couldn’t work on your request earlier but I hope you still like what I made out of it!💕

Crazy Ex -Rafe Cameron

Warnings: Manipulation, naive reader, angst, assumption of cheating, English is not my first language, not proof read

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

You have never had a problem with the fact that Rafe had already been married once. You met him at work, and the two of you immediately had some kind of connection. You were the complete opposite of his ex-wife, maybe that was what drew him towards you.

After months of talking, you two got into a relationship, and you were nothing but happy. Rafe loved you, and you loved him, it was like a fairytale.

But in every fairytale, there was a villain, and the villain in your story was Rafe's ex-wife. She tried to get him back on multiple occasions, but Rafe just turned her down.

Today, Rafe was on a business trip, leaving you alone at Tannyhill. Exhausted, you lay on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around your body as you watched one of your favorite movies.

You let out a yawn when the doorbell suddenly rang. With a small frown, you stood up, walking to the front door before you carefully opened it.

There she was. Rafe's ex-wife. 5'7 feet tall, platin blonde hair, curves at the right place, expensive clothes, and an annoyed look on her face. You looked down at yourself, wrapping the blanket tighter around your body, suddenly feeling insecure about your own appearance.

"Well, hello," She smirked down at you, "I see, Rafe, still didn't get rid of you."

You slightly gulped, "Rafe is not here. He is in Tennessee."

"Well, that's what he told you, but what if I tell you that we started talking again." Her smirk was even bigger than before.

"He would never do that. We both know that." You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Why don't you take a look at his location, sweetie?" She told you.

Immediately, you started chewing on your lower lip, a thing you always did when you were nervous. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw his location. He was at hers.

"Told you. Why don't you start packing your shit? I will move in again in a few days." She hissed, walking towards her car before she drove off.

After a small breakdown at the front door, you packed your most important stuff and left.

You didn't even text Rafe. You just wanted to be alone and at peace.

----

The next day Rafe came home.

"Y/n, I am back." He smiled, waiting for you to run downstairs, but you never did. He started to shout your name again and again until he finally realized you were gone.

Quickly, he called you, but you didn't pick up. After he sent you hundreds of messages, he thought about checking your location.

Your parents' house. Of course.

He ran to his car and drove to their house.

Your mom opened the door, wanting to shut it as soon as she saw him, "Y/m/n, please, I need to talk to her." He pleaded, still not knowing what he did wrong.

"But she doesn't want to talk to you." Your mother replied angrily.

After a few seconds of silence, you appeared behind her, "It's okay, Mom."

"Are you sure?" She asked, her eyes not leaving Rafe.

You gave her a small nod, and she disappeared into the living room.

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" He asked desperately.

"Because I didn't wanna talk to you." You simply answered.

Rafe looked at you, taking a step closer, "What did I do?"

"You lied to me about your trip to Tennessee." You mumbled.

He quickly shook his head, "No, why would you say this?"

"Oh, please, I saw your location. You were at your ex-wife's." You started to fiddle with your fingers.

Rafe's eyes widen, "You have to believe me when I tell you I never was there after we divorced."

"I saw it with my own eyes. She came when you were gone and-" You started, but Rafe was quick to interrupt you.

"She came when I was gone? Just to tell you that I am at her place?" He asked, and you just nodded.

"Don't you hear how ridiculous that sounds?" He sighed, and you finally started to think about the situation.

"B-but she-" You started but couldn't find the right words.

"I don't know how she faked my location, but I promise I never lied to you. I love you." He smiled a little, wrapping his arms around you.

"I am so stupid. I am sorry." You mumbled, feeling extremely guilty to believe his manipulative ex-wife.

"It's okay, just don't run away the next time she tells you shit." He chuckled.

"Promise," You kissed him, "Oh, and I have to make sure my parents won‘t kill you.“

[ve1vet-cake]

C h o i c e ?

Cw: Mention of murder and hints at family abuse!

Minors/ageless accs DNI

Characters belong to @14dayswithyou (and.. one belongs to me)

Summary: Someone decides to hold a certain someone accountable for their.... Sins

"Thank you so much for coming, Mr. [ ]"

The woman's lips stretched into a sinister smile as she watched the man sit down in front of her.

"Cut the act, bitch. Where is my wife." His tone showed that he wasn't asking, rather he was-

"Demanding. Hmhm~" The woman giggled, leaning back in her chair, strands of brown and platin blonde brushed past her shoulder and settled behind ehr back, her golden eyes seemingly catlike, trained on the man in front of her as if he were mere prey.

"I told you I'd get to it after our little... Chat" She hummed as she spread the cards, eyes leaving him for a second. "Or do you want me to kill her?" She looked up again through her lashes, bathing in the glares of the man.

Unbeknownst to him she'd never actively harm that woman. She didn't do anything that displeased her.

"Quit dragging this out then and get to the point." the man crossed his arms watching as the woman's nails trailed along the cards. "What do you want, why do you freak have my wife and why should I play this stupid game with you?" He tipped his head back, blue eyes glaring into his opponent.

"Well I just wanted a little talk and fun- say are you familiar with Tarot?" The expression on the brunette's face changed to one of utmost kindness and sweeetness.

"No."

She pouted.

"It can tell you your future, you know. You ask spirit or a god for something and they will tell you an outcome! It's highly fascinating."

"When will you bring me my wife?"

She pursed her lips.

"When I feel like it. Now, I have a question for you and you'll choose the answer by tapping a card."

The man nearly stood up, growling at the woman yet she didn't even bat an eye. With innocence laced eyes she smiled, pointing at the cards.

"Starting off easy; -"

~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few simple questions to get the man into the game, the woman smiled, seemingly satisfied.

"What nice foreplay! Now to the big questions...." A sadistic grin twisted her face and for a second the mam could've sworn he saw his soul burning in her eyes, succumbing to the flames of hell.

"What is your worse fear?"

Furrowing his brows he tapped a card, the slim fingers of the woman traced it before picking it up with a satisfied shriek.

"Three of swords! Separation! Afraid of losing your wife? My, only if you cared enough about your children to feel the same loss, hmm?"

The man's exes narrowed.

"How do you know of my children."

"Oh it was easy Taylor! But I digress" a high pitched laugh erupted from the woman's throat.

"I shouldn't be answering questions, you see. You are. Now then!"

As the woman excitedly went on about the exact separation Taylor was afraid of the man continuously attempted to interrupt her until one sentence fell.

"And this is why I won't be handing over your wife! It is far too funny to see you this pathetic! After all you aren't a real man- your son would qualify- not you th-"

With a loud thud the chair the man was sitting on hit the ground. He abruptly jumped from his chair, taking the woman by the collar of her blouse.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?!"

All she could do was laugh, holding up the Tower, the last card he had touched and flipped unknowingly.

Her eyes widened, pupils turning a poisonous green.

"I believe you heard me just fine! And just so you know- Your little outburst won't stop me from taking everything you have and strip you from the shrivels of... Humanity you have." Her Head tilted sideways in an unnatural way.

"Or did you already forget what pain you caused Ichika? Hannah?.... Or my beloved darling?" The grin fell as her head snapped back in its original place. Her expression serious, she looked even more threatening.

"The tower predicts your downfall. Your end. I will no longer tolerate your pitiful existence."

The woman stood up, nails digging into the flesh of the man.

"I will stain my hands with your blood just so [Redacted] won't have to. You never deserved a wife like Ichika, or children like Hannah and him."

She pushed him off, adjusting her clothes, making her way to the door, leaving the man to stand there dumbfounded. He didn't know how to react, the rage, fear even the uneasiness her stares gave him made him freeze, overloaded with too much fury and fear.

"It was nice having this little chat" She smiled. "I have a few meetings to attend to.. further discuss your careers. Ta-taa~!"

And with that she slipped out of the room.

"Vel...."

Meanwhile someone couldn't quite comprehend what they had just witnessed via the security cams in that room.

[holylulusworld]

Serve your soldier - Kinktober 5

Summary: The world order changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

Warnings: angst, mentions of character’s death, mentions of enslavement, implied past dub-con, dystopian world, kind of master/servant relationship, power imbalance possessiveness, jealous Homelander, implied smut, cockwarming

Kink: Collars

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

The world order changed. The Supes took over the world and left nothing but burned earth and broken dreams. A world without hope was the result.

Enslaved by the powerful creatures, the only purpose of normal humans is to fulfill their masters’ every wish. Even if this means letting them kill you.

You are no exception. Born into this world you waited for one of the supes to choose you as their plaything or maid. Whatever they’ll see in you.

Your life never belonged to you. From your first breath to your very last it will only belong to your supe. Eternally.

Three years ago, two simple words changed your life forever. “That one.” Soldier Boy said, before the supe you feared the most, Homelander, even got the chance to look your way.

Soldier Boy isn’t a nice guy either, but you saw, heard, and witnessed what Homelander can do to a woman. He easily gets bored with the girls he chooses and gets rid of them the easy way.

A broken neck is the only thing you could pray for if you ended up in his clutches. But the monster with platin blonde hair likes to play with his victims and to make them suffer.

“I’ve got to attend one of their parties,” Soldier Boy draws at his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the air.

You watch him leave the bed, lips parting as your eyes land on his naked ass. “If you keep on looking at me like that, kitten, I’ll break you even more.”

He flashes you a smirk, but you know better than not believing his words. You learned your lesson the hard way. Soldier Boy is not like Homelander, but he’s not your friend or lover.

This man owns you. Body. Soul. Mind. If he wants to kill you, no one will stop him. You’re only a toy to him. If he gets bored, you’ll get replaced in the blink of an eye.

“You’ll come with me tonight,” he casually says, making your heart race. You heard of the parties the supes throw. Nothing good of course. At least not if you are not one of them. “I want you to stay by my side. You are to be seen, not to be touched.”

You’re unsure how to react. He wants you to come with him, but no one is allowed to touch you. “Yes, Soldier Boy.” You smile sweetly, making your cheeks hurt. “All for you.”

“Stop with that nonsense. I don’t want you to talk like one of the others,” he snaps his fingers in front of you, taking you by surprise. You always wonder how a bulky and tall man like him can sneak up on you so easily. “Speak your mind.”

“I’m…confused…and scared,” you choke out. “I’m scared of him…” Soldier Boy nods thoughtfully as he cups your cheek with his large hand. “He’s…scary.”

“He’ll not touch you. You are mine,” he whispers in your ear. “No one but me touches you. No one else ever has. Say it.”

“I’m yours, Sold-“ you moan into his mouth when he crushes his lips onto yours. “Only yours.” He climbs on top of you, lips dominating yours.

“What do you want, kitten? Say it,” he nips at your lower lip, pulling it into his mouth with his teeth.

“I want only you,” you breathlessly reply. Only a kiss and you are already on the edge. “Please. I want you inside of me.”

“Fuck,” he curses against you as you spread your legs to let him settle between your thighs. “I can’t have you now. I’ll break your sweet cunt if I fuck you again.”

“Hmm…” you don’t care. If he takes you, it’s the only time you forget he’s not your lover. You get lost in the feel of his body on top of you and the pleasure he presses out of your body.

“We need to get you clean and I got a surprise for you,” he grins against your kiss-swollen lips. “You’ll love it.”

“Please…” You whine.

“If only we had time. My dick is rock hard for you, kitten.”

You’re unsure if you like your outfit. If you can even call it that.

Soldier Boy chose a crisscross crotchless and open cup gartered teddy with an attached pair of leashes.

“What is it, kitten?” He chuckles as you look at yourself in the mirror. “I want them to see what they can never touch.” Soldier Boy stands behind you to cup your tits with his hands. “I’ve got something nice for you. Wait.”

You take a deep breath and just try to survive this night.

“Here,” Soldier Boy puts a black lockable slave collar around your neck and locks it with a small heart padlock. “It’s silver and leather. Only the best for my pretty girl.”

You swallow thickly as you look at yourself in the mirror again. You look exactly like all the other girls out there, serving their masters.

“See, my name is carved into the heart. Only I can unlock it.”

“It’s very nice,” you mumble, unsure if you like the gesture or not.

“To keep you safe. It means no one but me can touch you,” Soldier Boy hastily explains. “Come on, give me a smile. I spent two days looking for the perfect collar.”

“Thank you.”

He huffs. “I thought you’d like it…”

“I like it,” giving him a half smile you hope he’ll not get mad at you. Maybe this is his way of showing you that he at least cares for you to a certain degree. “The heart is pretty.”

“All for my pretty girl. You deserve only the best. Maybe we should get a matching chastity belt. You can hide the key and I’ll try to get you out of it,” he pecks your neck, nibbling at your skin. "I love me a challenge."

“Finally,” Homelander spats the moment Soldier Boy guides you inside the huge ballroom. He looks at you with hungry eyes, drinking every inch of your mostly exposed body in. “And look at the gift you brought me. She even wears a heart.”

He steps closer, shamelessly presenting his naked body to you and your master. You try to ignore that you can see his erection and the fear creeping into your mind.

“Fuck off,” Soldier Boy slaps Homelander’s hand away when the supe tries to touch you. “She’s off limits. I’m only here to make sure you don’t overdo it again. Last time the cleaning took a week.”

“What do you mean? We share. All of us,” the blonde sneers. “You can’t present your whore like that and expect me to not fuck her.”

“Last warning, get lost,” you whimper when Soldier Boy wraps his arm around your shoulders to guide you toward his favorite spot in the ballroom. A large plush sofa, reserved only for him.

“Hey, don’t walk away like that,” Homelander grunts. “I’m talking to you.”

“Fuck off and find some hole to fuck,” Soldier Boy tells you to sit on the sofa as he plops down to enjoy the show.

You glance around the room, pretending to not see all the bodies grind against each other. It’s an orgy. Several women and men are copulating on the carpet. You don’t recognize them, but you assume all of them are masters and their servants.

“Boring. All of them.” Soldier Boy says as he turns his attention toward you next to him.

“What do you want me to do?” you whisper, afraid to speak any louder. “Soldier Boy?”

He unbuckles his belt and shoves the zipper down. His erection springs free, making your mouth water as you reach out for his cock.

“Come here, take your throne,” Soldier Boy grasps for you to bring you on his lap, helping you sink onto his cock.

“I want you to keep me warm and enjoy the show. And after they are all done, we will show them what sex should look like."

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[arachn11da]

drawing req? 👉👈 id like to see ur interpretation of a JOHN version of häärijä

hellooo, well you’ve come to just the right place

it was a little easier designing this cuz Häärijä basically already had a “john version” though i added some changes cuz it’d be boring if it was just a carbon copy. Since I like to draw John with a more “platin” blonde i thought strawberry would work well for häärijä 👀

[howi99]

Projecty A.R.C Memory 1

A light, that's what he saw moment before. a beautiful light, welcoming and warm. Then, darkness, like a cold winter night.

???: open eyes and rise from what's looks to be a worktable

silence, for a moment. then a static sound can be heard. A voice.

Watts: Ah, prototype 3 is finaly awaken. good, i feared the transfert wasn't a success. clear his traoth Prototype 3, do you remember your name?

???: my… name? Isn't it what you just said? Am i not prototype 3?

Watts: That's your matriculation, I asked you if you remembered your name before the transfer.

???: I fear not. All i can remember are concept and what i think are information for combat purpose.

Watts: Good, very good. I finally managed to erase completely the memory of someone else soul… Youre name shall be Jaune. You are an android built for recon and dispatching of grimm. You are a machine, but i gave you sentience for i need you to make choice on the battlefield. i expect you will follow all order you will be given.

Jaune: I understand.

Watts: Good. Now, for the next mounth you will be familiarised to your body then tested by the general ironwood. You can get on standby, disdain in his voice your… sisters are on the other side of the door on your right. they will be the one testing you capability for the time being.

Jaune: I shall meet with them. he goes to the door

At that moment, the door burst from the sheer force of a kick. Jaune, not expecting to be attacked just after being activated, get kicked in the stomack

Violette: So, where is that wimp of a brother i need to educate!?

Violette, or prototype 2, Was a… let's say energetic woman. She was built for logistic and demolition, but she tended to only focus on one of her two fonction. A petite woman, with short platine blonde hair, wearing an Atlas uniform patched up and worn out by her work.

Jaune: processing what happened on the ground … Why did you break the door?

Violette: smile deviously Oh ho? You are questioning your superior? Maybe i should beat the shit out of you, that would teach you a lesson!

Watts: That's enough! Violette, bring Jaune to his loging. and for the love of of the brother gods, would you please stop breaking everything you touch? If you continue i will deactivate you!

Violette: And show everyone you made an error over Pietro? You would never dare!

Watts: Fine! But i will confiscate all your demolition equipment! leave the interphone

Violette: Tsk look at jaune so, you can walk or should a baby carry you? get up you lazy idiot!

Jaune: … gets up

Violette: And you should get yourself some clothes.

Jaune: But why?

Violette: rolls her eyes Just follow me and stop asking question!

From the other room, a voice can be heard

Saphron: Violette? did you broke something again? i swear, you are so unruly!

Violette: flinch S-sorry Saphron, i just got excited to meet our new brother… I didn't meant to upset you…

Saphron: i'm not upset, but i don't want you to be piunished. you know it hurt me to see you sad.

Violette: Yeah Saph…

Saphron: Now, don't keep me waiting, let me see my little brother.

As Violette begin to walk with Jaune following her, he finally could see Prototype 1 aka Saphron. She was sitting on a chair, her long blond hair flowing down her back, she had a kind smile. she was wearing also an Atlas military uniform, well kept, without a single stain. She seemed to be drinking… tea?

Jaune: point at the cup of tea Why do you drink? we don't need liquid to fonction.

Saphron: it's an old abitude from before i was… turned. But don't worry, we can safely drink and eat. it help to blend us with the other personel we are working with.

Jaune: i see.

Violette: W-well, we need to dress you up, in any case. i'll show you where your clothes are. Watts really need to bring them WHEN he wake us up, instead of not saying anything.

Saphron: a small laugh Well, he never was preocupied by those things. his mind is only on perfecting all of us so we can be of use.

Violette: i know… any, let's go.

Saphron: looking at Jaune and what's your name?

Jaune: i was designated as jaune. pleasure to work with you, miss saphron.

Saphron: smile Just call me saph, or big sis.

Jaune: If it's what you prefer.

----END of memory 1----

[angelicfeather]

🪽🐇🍃🤍

[kruemel8]

Edvin looks so cute with his smile on the bts post 🩷🩷 but I am happy he is not platin blonde anymore 😂

I wonder when we will see him again. But whatever he is doing at the moment I hope he’s smiling a lot.

[pauline-lewis]

J'ai toujours eu l'intuition que j'aurai, dans le fond, toujours un peu 13 ans

Je me souviens du regard de Kirsten Dunst sous ses paupières lourdes —

Je me souviens que j'avais 16 ou 17 ans quand j'ai vu le film pour la première fois, je me souviens que j'avais probablement l'âge de la plus grande des sœurs Lisbon, et que pourtant la scène de Virgin Suicides qui m'avait le plus frappée c"était celle où l'on voit la plus jeune des adolescentes, Cecilia, dire au psychiatre

"Obviously doctor you've never been a 13-year-old girl."

(J'ai toujours eu l'intuition que j'aurai, dans le fond, toujours un peu 13 ans)

Je me souviens que je voyais, pour la première fois, que quelqu'un comprenait ce qu'il y avait de meurtri tout au fond du fond de ce cœur d'adolescente que nous nous traînions ensuite pour toujours (et les regards et les attentes et les corps et la chose de l'enfance qu'on nous enlève brutalement et qu'on ne récupère jamais même en essayant mille fois).

Je voyais la tendresse mais aussi l'agressivité avec laquelle Sofia Coppola filmait ça — les bracelets en plastique qui cachent les coupures et qui menacent de tremper dans le punch et la voix de Cecilia (ces bracelets en plastique scotchés, j'y ai pensé si souvent), sa voix nette, son regard profond. J'avais le sentiment que Sofia Coppola n'essayait pas d'adoucir quoi que ce soit parce qu'elle aussi, elle savait.

(Relisant le journal de mes 13 ans chez mes parents j'ai ressenti un mélange de honte et de douleur face à la brutalité des sentiments, bons comme mauvais — j'ai arrêté d'écrire un journal après l'adolescence et je me suis racontée autrement — mais je me suis rappelé en lisant mes mots que beaucoup ne savent pas, en effet, ce que ça fait d'être une ado de 13 ans et que même moi, sans le vouloir, je l'ai souvent oublié)

Je me souviens — et pourtant je n'étais pas une adolescente blonde aux cheveux longs, pas une sœur Lisbon en somme, pas une Sofia Coppola non plus — je me souviens que même si on ne parlait pas de female gaze à l'époque, entre nous, nous avions compris que ce film racontait quelque chose que nous n'avions encore jamais vu. Ce film filmait différemment le désir silencieux. Les mains qui se touchent, se frôlent. L'urgence, aussi.

(Sur des feuilles de papier nous essayions alors de recopier les différentes écritures qui apparaissent au début de film et sur nos platines CD nous écoutions la musique d'Air qui ne ressemblait alors à rien de ce que nous connaissions — et quelque part j'ai continué toute ma vie à m'envelopper de ces mêmes sons vaporeux)

Je me souviens que ce film racontait aussi une forme de version années 70 de cette manière que nous avions de parler en chansons. Les sœurs Lisbon communiquent avec leurs voisins et passent des disque au téléphone — nous on vivait pour les musiques qu'on aimait et on recopiait des paroles de chansons dans nos statuts MSN. Cela formait des conversations irréelles pourtant plus vraies que tout ce que nous essayions de dire avec nos propres mots. Ce film racontait soudain l'étrangeté absolue d'habiter le corps en mouvement d'une adolescente dans un monde qui méprise nos passions, nos chuchotements et nos secrets. On apprend à être des femmes comme ça — mais dans un endroit très précieux on continue, parfois, à parler en chansons et en statuts MSN.

Ce que Virgin Suicides avait compris de nous c'était aussi — que nous faisons des montagnes des petits moments, nous avions comme cette compréhension profonde de l'importance de l'immédiat. Et ce n'était pas ridicule mais beau.

Quand j'ai revu le film c'est encore une fois la scène qui m'a le plus touchée, celle où les garçons lisent le journal de Cecilia. Ce journal qui consigne des dizaines de petits riens — les larmes de Lux, les arbres, les gestes. Les garçons ont l'air de donner corps à ses phrases avec une forme d'incompréhension mais Sofia Coppola, elle, met en images ces instants volés au temps avec une fantaisie qui n'existe que dans cette séquence. Une licorne, des paillettes. C'est une ode courte aux petits instants, ceux que Cecilia voit, et à l'esthétique de l'adolescence qui s'effleure du bout des doigts comme les flacons observés dans la salle de bain par un invité. Dans la séquence du journal, la voix off des garçons disparaît au profit de celle de Cecilia et c'est l'une de mes idées préférées — une manière de nous dire qu'au ton amusé des garçons la réalisatrice préfère la profondeur de l'adolescente.

Et quand on revoit ce film, adulte, on se souvient de quelque chose que l'on avait trop longtemps oublié.

Lisant plus tard le roman d'Eugenides (qui a inspiré le film) je serai déçue de la place que les personnages masculins prennent dans la narration. Pour moi ils n'existent pas, expulsés à la marge. Dans le regard de Sofia Coppola ils sont, mais peut-être que j'extrapole, très secondaires.

Peut-être que c'est la manière dont mon regard de jeune femme tout juste sortie de l'adolescence a corrigé le film. Et je continue, par fidélité, à lui faire honneur. J'oublie leurs scènes et leur fascination ne m'intéresse pas.

Lisant le journal de Cecilia, l'un des garçons demande : "How many pages can you write about dying trees ? Relisant mon journal, je retrouve trois pages consacrées à une remarque anodine faite par une camarade de classe, de longues vexations tournées dans tous les sens. Je me dis que c'est parce qu'elle a capturé exactement ce sentiment-là que ça que j'ai gardé pour Sofia Coppola une forme de loyauté aussi bizarre qu'éternelle. À la vie, à la mort.

[neronely]

And now Lyra:

Name: Lyra Wright

Age: 18

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Ace

Height: 160cm. ||| 5‘3

Zodiac Sign: Gemini

Looks: Platin blonde, Long, side parted hair; grey-ice blue eyes; always wears something bright-colored; blue earrings

Closest friend/relative: Lynx Wright

Rough timeline of her childhood: preferred child-> wonderful school-years (tho a little bit in Lynx shadow now) -> storyline of the book

Likes: Vanilla, "Bigger-is-better“, trying new hairstyles

Dislikes: oranges, people with no sense of style; everything that has todo with romance

Habits/hobbies: tapping with the pen when bored, sings (even tho Lynx says she isn’t good in it), Wattpad-romance-reader

[traces-ecrites]

Voilà une bonne chose de faite. Cela faisait longtemps que j’en avais envie, je ne faisais que repousser chaque fois le moment. Cette fois, il était temps que je me décide. Qu’ai-je fait de si extraordinaire ? Je suis simplement allée chez la coiffeuse, pour me faire couper les cheveux. Je n’y vais pas très souvent d’ordinaire, environ 3 ou 4 fois par an.

Cela fait des années maintenant que je garde les cheveux courts, et même très courts. Cette fois, les voilà très, très, très courts. J’arrive à peine à les pincer entre deux doigts. Quand je passe ma main sur ma tête, c’est tout doux, comme du velours ; j’adore caresser mon crâne. Quand je passe devant un miroir ou une autre surface réfléchissante, je guette mon reflet, chose que je ne fais jamais d’habitude. Je cherche à vérifier si je me reconnais.

C’est bien moi, mes cheveux sont toujours aussi terriblement fins, mais j’ai l’impression que cela se voit moins ainsi. Ils sont moins gris que ce que j’aimerais ; ils continueront bien à blanchir. En tout cas, c’est bien moi, de la façon la plus naturelle possible, sans apprêt, sans artifices.

Ce que je ressens : légèreté, fierté, liberté. Je préfère mes cheveux courts depuis longtemps. Je me sens souvent admirative en voyant des femmes avec seulement quelques millimètres de cheveux, que ce soit à l’écran ou dans la vie réelle. Je trouve cela bien plus audacieux qu’une longue et ondulante chevelure. Pour un homme, des cheveux ras ne surprennent personne. Pour une femme, le crâne rasé s’apparente plutôt à une punition. Quelle injustice !

Avant d’aller à mon rendez-vous, j’ai recherché sur internet des images de femmes avec des cheveux ultra-courts. J’ai trouvé des photos sublimes. Et des articles qui parlaient d’actrices qui avaient « sacrifié » leurs cheveux pour un rôle. « Sacrifier » quel mot violent : elles se sont juste fait couper les cheveux ! Ces images ont conforté ma décision : c’est bien ce que je voulais.

J’avais déjà eu les cheveux très courts, et même pas de cheveux du tout. C’est l’effet secondaire le plus spectaculaire de la chimiothérapie. Voilà ce que j’avais écrit à l’époque, dans le journal de mon voyage au pays du cancer (1) :

« Ma première découverte, c’est que j’avais considérablement plus de cheveux que ce que j’imaginais. Quand je croyais en avoir fini, il y en avait encore et encore. Bien que très courts, bien que très fins, ils étaient innombrables ! Ma deuxième découverte, c’est que je me suis vue, moi, pour la première fois de ma vie. En tête à tête avec mon reflet dans le miroir, je vois qui je suis. Et ma troisième découverte est que ce que je vois dans le miroir ne me déplaît pas. »

On présente en général l’alopécie comme un traumatisme pour les femmes. Et bien, pas pour moi. Suis-je l’exception qui confirme la règle ? Et si on supprimait la règle, tout simplement ?

Après la chimio, j’avais laissé repousser mes cheveux. Ce fut long, très long, avant d’obtenir une touffe ridicule que je parvenais péniblement à attacher en une minuscule couette. J’ai tout coupé, court, très court : ouf, libération ! Ensuite, j’ai entretenu, ou plutôt mes coiffeuses ont entretenu ma coupe courte, la nuque rase, avec parfois des dessins, en mode « tribal ».

J’avais toujours les cheveux courts, mais peu à peu, un peu moins courts sur le dessus du crâne. Les possibilités de changement de coiffure sont limitées avec les cheveux courts. J’ai beaucoup joué dans un passé plus ancien avec les teintures : brun, roux, auburn, blond platine… Si j’étais plus jeune, j’aurais sûrement testé le bleu et le violet. Mais aujourd’hui, plus de couleur chimique pour moi, que du naturel.

J’aimais assez le contraste de ma précédente coupe : ras en lisière, plus long sur le dessus. Mais c’est trop exigeant, cela demande de l’entretien et me faire recouper les cheveux toutes les 3 ou 4 semaines, ce n’est pas pour moi. Il me fallait donc une solution radicale. J’étais prête !

J’ai pensé fugitivement à une solution encore plus radicale : me procurer une tondeuse et œuvrer moi-même. Je n’ai pas osé, pas encore. J’ai choisi de confier ma tête au rasoir de ma coiffeuse pour une coupe énergétique : profiter de l’occasion pour un soin plus en profondeur.

Je m’installe confortablement sur le siège, je ferme les yeux et je me laisse aller. Je sens les vibrations se propager dans ma tête, dans mon cou, dans mon dos. Pendant que les mains agiles s’agitent autour de ma tête, j’ai l’impression de me dépouiller. Deux larmes s’échappent de mes paupières, une de chaque côté. Ce n’est pas de la tristesse, c’est du soulagement.

Je sens comme un courant monter le long de ma colonne vertébrale. Mon dos, calé contre le dossier, a envie de se redresser. Je n’ose pas trop bouger, de crainte de déranger ma coiffeuse. Pourtant, imperceptiblement, mes vertèbres se décollent, j’ai l’impression de grandir, tout en gardant mes deux pieds posés bien à plat sur le sol. Je souris intérieurement en pensant que si je grandis trop, ma coiffeuse n’aura pas les bras assez longs, elle qui n’est pas très grande.

Quand tout est terminé, quand tous les débris de cheveux sont bien époussetés, je retarde un instant le moment d’ouvrir les yeux. Mes paupières s’ouvrent d’elles-mêmes et j’éclate de rire. Juste de la joie. J’embrasse ma coiffeuse. Dehors, c’est le printemps, le soleil brille, des oiseaux gazouillent dans les arbres un peu plus loin, des voix lointaines se font entendre. La vie est belle quand on lui sourit.

(1) C’est écrit, un livre que vous trouverez dans quelques rares bibliothèques, mais pas en librairie.

[edmarienism]

Edvin looks actually so much more healthy. Maybe it was the platin blonde that made him look not as healthy as right now. But seeing him smile is everything we wanted

:)

[hypnomastersopor]

Blond, Gold, Platin.....

Pleazagirl3:

[angelicfeather]

💿🩹🤍

[teumbeleur]

Bébé, c'est un ego trip, steuplai, me prends pas en grippe.

Je veux être le Z manquant entre Zahia et Zendaya. Je veux être comme la mère Mahfouf, Queen de Paris et moi de BX.

Je suis en résidence bébé, je n'ai pas de réseaux. Quel gars me demande? Je connais pas.

Depuis le retour des cansva, les keums de regarde que moi, je suis en sucre, on se croirait à Paname, je suis un bateau et eux les mouches et bordel ils louchent!

Faire la maligne, Super DZ sans le blond platine. Music Sounds Better with... Me!

Moi, moi, moi, bébé c'est un ego trip, steuplai me prends pas en grippe.

Je suis un garçon fragile. Qui tombent amoureux de fille dure.