straightening comb

Black Girl, NYC

Greetings people. I identify as a Black female who was born and raised in NYC. I am slowly progressing through my study of education and history in college. Other then that, I spend (probably) an unhealthy amount of time reading and writing sci fi and fantasy. But by high school, I got sick and tired of the same story featuring blonds and brunettes saving the day with their straight, lean male heroes so I turned to my librarian seeking something new. She pointed to Octavia Butler and the rest was history. I’ve been seeking diversity in media ever since.

Family life and Culture

I grew as the middle child of six siblings with my single mother and grandparents. Yes, my working-class household fits the stereotype. We even have an absent father *sighs* But, hey shit happens. And with the biological father turns out not to be the best father figure, shit had to go right out the door. Yup. But make no mistake that this is a norm. Most households on my block do have both parents involved in their children’s lives. Our circumstances called for us to have one. That’s all.

The house was full, loud and rambunctious. We made up a good portion of the children on the block (unsurprising) and basically ran it. There’s a whole novel that could be fleshed out of my childhood if I wanted to. Our neighborhood is very tight knit. Next door neighbors were treated like Aunts and Uncles. When summer came around, we were sometimes divided into groups as the parents who were off from work overlooked us while braiding our heads. Blackouts became an all night bbq and sleepover on each other’s porches. Crooklyn by Spike Lee was a good representation of what it was like in fact. Somewhat. Minus the brownstones, plus a couple more fights (lol).

My grandma was a nurse who’s pretty big on us knowing our family history. She made sure to talk a lot about our Gullah Geechee roots. We also had some Dominican culture influence since her closest friend and our Madrina was, well, Dominican. But she is fairly strict on gender norms and how my sisters and I should act especially with brothers. She antagonized me the most growing up because I continued to ignore this. We don’t get along but i can’t say i don’t get why she’s the way she is. She has a pretty dark past. My mother, a latchkey kid of the finest stock, is more laid back and gives all of us free range to make our own mistakes. Most times. Other times, she’d rather lecture us. Depends on our crime.

I don’t know what my grandpa used to do. He retired waaaaay before my grandmother. I also don’t know much about his culture. He’s 1st gen Jamaican who fully assimilated into American culture. Well, beside his food choices. Now, he gambles and goes to church. When I was younger, he used to teach us how to gamble too. And how to cheat and not get caught. We got a lot of free fast food while he taught us. He has gotten more frugal the older he got. And more isolated.

Dating and Relationships.

I don’t date. I have no interest. Well, no, that’s not exactly true. I’ve considered it but I rather have not seek out anything outside of platonic right now. I have a tight knit circle of friends and several other groups of friends I associate with depending on the activity. I’m realizing it seems like I’m using the term “friends” loosely but I swear I’m not. I’m a virgin and I feel nothing about being one until someone goes “*gasp* You’re a virgin really?” and then I end up on high defense saying “So?” Believe or not, that messed with me a lot.

My love life and lack of interest in having one has always been a struggle. In middle school, the group of friends I hung with were becoming more infatuated with love and sex. Yes, middle school, fifth through eighth grade, ages nine to thirteen. But, when they would talked about who’s hot or not, they would look at me funny when I didn’t join in the discussion. Instead of explaining myself, I simply copied other’s reactions and gushed along with them. This instinct followed me through High school til stopped out of annoyance. I became a listener and adviser in their relationships because I really do love stories in many shapes and forms. And I would never turn down hearing a story.

Language

My primary language is English and AAVE. I’ve been living in a neighborhood filled with Blacks and Latinx. Most of my friends are Black and Lantinx. I didn’t meet a white person my age until college. Okay that’s a partial lie. I’ve been in a summer camp that was made up of predominantly white children. But as the only black kid in my age range, I was sorta uncomfortable. I never made lasting friends there. After High School, I spent a year abroad in Tena, Ecuador where I learned Spanish and Kichwa. I still suck at both languages.

Clothing

Lots of my clothes when I was younger were borrowed or hand-me-downs. Half of them still are. It’s like thrift shopping without the hiked prices thanks to its popularity by rich white people (Thanks rich white people!) All my siblings’ taste varies. In my case, I’m fond of combining loose and tight clothing (tight jeans and a loose sweater/ baggy jeans and a tight top). No makeup. Silver accessories.

I used to have a short bob cut permed. I hated it. But I rather a perm then getting my hair straightened with a hot comb because the back of my neck and big ears would always get burned. It wasn’t until I made a friend with a natural afro that I realized my natural hair was even an option.

Academics

Lol I was a nerd with bad grades.

Religion

My family practices Santeria, which has historical roots in both Catholicism and Yoruba thanks to slavery (Yay slavery!). However, because the religion is not fully accepted or well-known, I tend to say I’m simply Catholic if asked. Apparently, a Black Catholic is hard to believe. It is assumed all Black folks are Baptists or some branch of Christianity. I have no idea where that stereotype came from. But I can give some guess. (*cough cough* Tyler Perry….).  

As I stated before, I love scifi and fantasy. I especially love urban fantasy involving witches. I blame this love on Practical Magic and Eve’s Bayou, my childhood faves. It’s because of this love that I wish to see more stories with witches of color. And no, I don’t mean that one evil/mysterious southern/Caribbean Voodoo/Hoodoo witch hollywood loves to portray so much. That always plays into the “Black is evil” trope. Give me some damn variety!

I would squeal so hard if the mythology involved in a story isn’t even Eurocentric. I’m not joking. This is serious. When my religion was simply hinted at in the Raven Boys series (It was also a great way of making even more obvious that the character was definitely not white.) and Kenya Wright’s Habitat series, I squealed. All the authors did was write the names of some of the Orishas and I couldn’t help but put my phone down for a moment and inwardly scream with glee. That being said, if a writer does decide to use afrocentric or any religion involving “witchcraft” as a basis, I would personally ask that they make sure is is not a closed religion.

Santeria is, in fact, a closed religion. And while I don’t mind mentions of it in fantasy and even a main character stating they practice it, do not go any further than that. Don’t even research the practices within the religion other than what is public knowledge (And if you don’t have any public knowledge, just ask) Respect that there’s a limit. Anything further spelunking  is consider rude, disgusting, disrespectful and dangerous. There’s things that I don’t even know because I haven’t been properly initiated. And the internet has a lot of these practices exposed when it shouldn’t be so please don’t look into it. Please.

Food

Most of the cooking in the house has been done by my grandmother. Because of her various relationships, our food has always been a mixture of Black American, Gullah, Lantinx and Caribbean influences. It is so good. So, so good!

The only thing I don’t eat of hers is her seafood gumbo because I don’t like shellfish. One of my sisters said I should have my “black card” taken for my distaste. I said she could take it if she can name more black movies than me. She still can’t take it. My other sister wishes we could switch places because she loves crab but is allergic. The crazy girl actually sends her husband to buy some benadryl so she can eat some if we ever have some on the table. Smh. Siblings.  

Holidays

My family on both sides are quite fond of reunions. On my grandpa’s side, the family uses Fourth of July and Christmas to get together. On my grandma’s side, they tend to host annual summer reunion and send out RSVP invitations complete with schedules of the whole two to three day event. I didn’t mention this under my family life, but both sides of my family are boujee to different degrees. Lots of black sorors and frats members on both sides. I can’t believe that slipped my mind typing.

I’m a little iffy with Christmas. It’s more of a holiday for the older generation and our niece and nephews. The younger generation, however, don’t particularly care for the holiday. For some of us, it’s because it’s not really Jesus’s Birthday and Santa was whitewashed. For others, it’s because we don’t care to feed into the corporate holiday. For most of us, it’s a combination of the two. But we do love getting together when we can. My older sister and I have conspired to celebrate kwanzaa instead for the past two years. So far, it hasn’t grasped the interest of anyone else in the family.

Struggles

  • Being nerds from a young age, my siblings and I have been called “Oreos” or“Not really black” by kids in school on more than one occasion. We shut them down by fighting. Probably not the best strategy but it was best one I could think of in middle school and below. Made it easier to go back to reading my manga.

  • I got compared to my sisters a lot. It was the absolutely most annoying thing ever. And a major source of my insecurities growing older.

  • Need I address colorism? My highschool was filled with it. #TeamLight v #TeamDark. I was on neither team, because in the region I live, skin color was a pretty long spectrum. I fell in the between. Who came up with this?

  • I’ll admit it. I hate my own tears. They make me feel weak. Which isn’t true…I know. But, it is a mentality I always had. I have depression and PTSD. This isn’t really a secret. I tell people if I’m asked. But have you ever had someone look at you and say, “Really? You don’t seem like the type.” ……

  • I am a black female. I’ve been labelled “Strong” and “Independent” the older I got. By my mother. By my siblings. By my peers. And I get those labels. Even from friends. I loved those labels. I call myself by those labels. I mean, who doesn’t want to be seen as strong and independent? Those are positive affirmations, right? I think they would be. If that wasn’t all the positive labels we could get. Somehow, society has decided we are beings that are incapable of being multifaceted. I was indirectly taught to hate my own tears because black girls don’t cry. You can’t cry and be strong. What a terrible mantra fed to black girl at a young age. So, instead you tell everyone “It’s fine.”

I told my therapist it was fine. Until she told me straight up it was not fine. And it was okay to cry. I don’t like to cry. But I still (involuntarily) did it.

Things I’d like to see less of/Things I’d like to see more of:

  • I’m sick and tired of seeing black and latinx folks being portrayed as only fantasy gangs members. We are not only gang members. That’s a terrible popular myth the media put out there and I hate it even more so when it’s portrayed in SFF genre..

  • I’m tired of having one black person in a novel being described as having skin the color of “midnight.” And he’s (it’s always a he) not even that important to the story

  • I hate how every time someone decides to add a person of color, they have to be ambiguous brown. I’m not saying ambiguously brown don’t exist and don’t need representation but is it really that had for a dark brown skin person to play a major role in a story that’s not about slavery? Speaking of which….

  • Why we always gotta be slaves? Or better yet….

  • Why don’t we exist at all in High fantasy stories? Urban fantasy? Brooklyn wasn’t always the gentrified white town it is now. Still isn’t. How are you erasing people of color from NYC??? We make up way too much of the population to be completely erased

  • Stop racial coding other creatures to surround your white human characters. Especially as the bad guys. That’s just shitty writing. Step up your game!

  • I love Black love

  • I love Gay love. I wish more would follow moonlight’s example and show poc are gay too and gay doesn’t always equal to stereotypical femininity.

  • I love interracial love HOWEVER, can we pair people of color with other people of color as well? I’m starting to hate seeing it always a white person paired with a Poc. Variety damnit!

  • Friendships between boys and girls that don’t transform into love.

  • Friendships between girls that didn’t start out as a rivalry.

  • Different body types besides the skinny and tall. Make a main character that’s fat for once. It’s not a problem.

  • Magical characters of color that aren’t “Noble Savages” or “Wise Monks” that used their magic for personal gain for once instead of waiting for the white hero to come.

  • Nerdy black characters who aren’t 100% competent and cries. One that isn’t in a five token band that always gonna be compare to the white main character. Make the nerd the main character!

That’s all I can think of at the top of my head. But my list really does go on. 

Read more POC Profiles here or submit your own.

Wig Hacks Wednesday #1 !
Need to quickly add length to your base wig without spending time sewing rolls and rolls of wefts? Want to use the same wig for that certain character who grew out their hair after timeskip arc? (I’m looking at you, Shonen Jump characters)
Here’s a quick way to add some sturdy length to your base wig, but still easy to remove if needed, using the ponytail wrap from Arda Wigs (Base wig in pic is a Jareth in Baby Pink)

- Using the duckbill clips, section off the hair where you want to add length. Unwrap the ponytail wrap’s velcro top. (You can see many rows of wefts on it which makes it volumous)
- Pull the small tail side through the spaces between the elastic band on the wig
- Fold in the ponytail wrap’s main side and use the little comb to secure it to the base wig
- Bring the small tail side over the main side of the ponytail wrap and press down the velcro parts to secure them to one another
- Comb and straighten the wig hair as needed to blend the textures
- She’s ready to rock hair-over-shoulder looks!

I hope this was useful for you guys. Every Wednesday, I will be sharing wig hacks for styling, tools, products, and just whatever I find interesting to add to your wig work experience! If you don’t wanna miss these posts, go to the top of my page and change your notification settings to “see first”. I will also be putting up more video tutorials with voice-over once I get a good video camera. Any tutorial suggestions, let me know please!

2 • knee socks

Genre: angst | smut | fluff

Word Count: 2k

masterlist

A/N: I feel romantic guys. I hope you understand my lateness but I was not satisfied with this and I will post just when I think it's good. So I hope you enjoy this moment between this two. Thank you for reading my stories!!!

Originally posted by schnpsl

| my teacher’s house | 

My life wasn’t a bed of roses. I had everything I wanted and when I desired but I didn’t have one thing: love. I guess that’s why I got surrendered by it when I saw his face for the first time. People think that for having what I want I lived in a happy life. My father could be a doctor and my mom one of the best lawyers of the city but, when he came home with his shirt marked in red and she started to spent her money on alcohol, the situation drowned. They didn’t love each other anymore and working takes full charge of their lives. What matters if you are rich and have a good job if your life is fucked up?

I knew the moment I stepped at the front door that my parents were arguing. I could hear they shouting angry words at each other and even things being broken. I decided not to enter and sat down at the doorway. Will my marriage be like this too? Not loving each other and just worrying about money?

After one hour I entered the house and saw the living room destroyed. The family pictures were on the ground, the glass covering the rug with its little pieces. This never happened before and I could guess what was the reason behind their argument. Another woman. I heard footsteps coming my away and turned back, seeing my father holding an ice bag on his forehead.

He chuckled and threw the phone he held on the couch.

“Your teacher called me” I looked to the ground while preparing for what was coming next but I got surprised when my dad let out a smile, “He said you are one of his best students and that you put so much effort on your tasks. I’m proud of you Y/N”

Wait. Mother hasn’t told him about my detention? And why did Mr. Park called my dad? And more: he told good things about me although none of those were part of the truth. I stood there with a confused face and my dad noticed, asking me about it. Of course, I wouldn’t tell him the truth.

“Uhm… Thank you appa” I said and went to my room.

Keep reading

fucksaysemily  asked:

Most to least: Who spends the most time on their looks out of the shinigami? :) (Eric, Alan, Will, Ronald, Grell, Undertaker)

Most

Grell - First of all, makeup skills right here: 

Not to mention these stylish glasses, accessorized by fab~ulous~ skulls!! 

It’s quite clear Grell is quite into fashion and looks. I’m sure if you need any fashion advice, Grell is the one to go to! 

The outfit is coordinated (Although the coat was taken from Madam Red, it was a good pick containing a nice design complimenting the outfit!) with a color scheme pleasing to the eyes.

I also recall Grell mentioning having to cancel a manicure appointment in one of the chapters, so I can safely assume the time spent on looks would be quite a lot.

Ronald Knox - Okay so this guy may look overall simple. but if you look closely at his appearance, you may notice he has quite the expensive taste. 

For instance, as reference to @akumadeenglish‘s post that his watch costs very highly. He may be a simple, breezy guy but is quite sharp and picky when choosing brands. 

He also took the time at some point to dye his hair. 

Originally posted by kurogif

William Spears - Although not as fashionable as the others, he is quite orderly. This guy is all about being presentable so he will spend most of his time straightening his clothes and combing his hair neatly.

He is always constantly adjusting his glasses as well, and probably wipes them often with a cloth.

Eric Slingby - He looks loose, but loose is his fashion.

Look at how majestic his wavy hair is pulled to a side. It reminds me of the pokemon Ponyta.

His facial hair looks like he took a while to get it to grow in that specific direction, which takes a lot of patience and effort.

You also can’t overlook those stud earrings.

Undertaker - First thing I would like to point out is that his nails are painted black and look to be manicured. His favorite color to wear is black and he rocks it.

He also sports a emerald ring on his fingers which matches the color of his beautiful hidden eyes.

And did I forget to add that singular braid tho?? Imagine him humming in front of a mirror, carefully braiding a strand of his hair as he giggles to himself at the result ~huhuhuhue~

Alan Humphries - Hmmm, there's not much to say for Alan. The smol boy is more focused on his work and wears the basic protocol of a work outfit. He is the least interested in his looks.

Although I like the skull bowtie he wears~ 

Least

anonymous asked:

Headcanons for the wammy boys and light plus misa and how much time they spend on their hair.

Light:
-straightens it every day he can
- combs it within an inch of its life to make sure it’s super soft
- spends about 20 minutes on it

L:
- when he’s acting as Ryuzaki, his hair takes a while
- straightening, styling, back combing
- it takes him about 45 minutes
- when he’s just L though, he just runs a comb through it and he’s done

Mello:
- he brushes it every morning and every night
- straightens it sometimes but his hair is naturally quite straight anyways
- takes him around 10 minutes

Matt:
- does he ever do anything with his hair? Who knows. Probably not
- sometimes he dyes it weird colours, which takes him about 45 minutes
- the most he’d do is comb it other than that

Near:
- he doesn’t do anything to it
- if he brushes his hair it explodes out in every direction, which he finds amusing
- he does it sometimes if he remembers and loves playing with it when it’s that soft

Misa:
- she straightens, bleaches and tones her hair
- she spends around half an hour on it every morning
- she likes to style it in different ways each day and uses whatever she can find to tie it up, be that hair ties or ribbons
- takes a lot of pride in her hair

A Brief P.S.A.: “Carding”

TL; DR:  If “carding” is an acceptable substitute for “finger-combing”, a la “running [my/your/X’s] fingers through ___’s hair”, whilst fill-in-the-blank is servicing your nethers or y’all are banging?  

I sure as shit can’t source it.

I read quite a bit. I don’t review often. Stuff like this is why.

It is my legit hope this will be helpful. If for no one else, then me. It makes my eye twitch and my lips curl. Seen this from *multiple* authors/fics, even in simple smooching scenes, not just when smut sneaks up. 

Vowed to myself at around the #10 mark that when I saw it even one more time, this would get thrown out of where it’s been living in “Draft” since [looks at calendar] January, and over into “Queue”. So if you’re seeing this, well, there ya go.

“Nash you’re a bitch like, you’re so perfect.”

Accurate assessment, watch that comma next time. To the dictionary we go!

Keep reading

Wig Styling - Laito Sakamaki

Hiya Strawberries! The most recent convention I went to was Anime Central and I ended up buying a few wigs from the arda booth that was there. The wig I am using in this tutorial is a lace front wig called “Bucky Classic” in the color pure white.

Things you’ll need:

-Lacefront, heat resistant wig

-Rit synthetic dye in chocolate brown (optional)

-Scissors

-Latex gloves

-Liquitex acrylic ink in the colors oxide red and burnt umber

-Hairdryer

-Straightener

-Wide tooth comb

-Rubbing alcohol

Step 1:

This is how my wig started off. The first thing to do is brush out the wig with a wide tooth comb to get rid of any tangles and then section off two parts in the front away from the back.

Step 2:

Trim away at the front until it’s short enough to work for the two shorter pieces of hair that are towards the side of Laito’s face.

Step 3:

This step is optional, but I do feel it makes the wig look nicer. Using rit dye, put it into a spray bottle and spray some of the dye toward the top of the wig. (Please wear gloves while applying the dye onto the wig. The dye easily stains hands and it takes a few days or more to come off) Laito’s hair fades to white so do not saturate the ends of the wig in the dye, leave that blank. Leave the dye in for no more than 7 minutes, then rinse the wig with cold water until the water runs clear.

Step 4:

When that’s done, the wig should be a nice faded light brown, let it air dry and then gently comb out any tangles. Now you’re ready to start dying with the acrylic ink.

Step 5:

The inks I used for Laito are in the colors red oxide and raw umber. I would suggest getting two one ounce bottles of red oxide, and one one ounce bottle of raw umber. For the dye, you will also need a small spray bottle and rubbing alcohol. The amount of rubbing alcohol you use depends on how prominent you want the color to be. Mix the two dyes together until you get the shade you want. If possible, I highly suggest testing the mixture on a spare white wig, white weft, or even paper if you don’t have either of those available to see what the shade of color looks like.

Step 6:

To apply the color, just spray the mixture onto the desired area. Be sure to wear latex gloves so the dye does not stain your hands or under your nails. Spray the mixture onto the roots of the wig and with your hand or wide tooth comb, comb it downwards. Do not let it touch the ends, leave the ends white. Be sure to cover the area you want fully with the dye,  but do not saturate the fibers to a point to where the dye drips. That will make the ends too dark as it will lead to the dye dripping too far down the wig. Once that’s done, let it air dry (if the wig is heat resistant it is okay to blow dry it).

Step 7:

Fill the dropper that liquitex ink provides with the raw umber dye and add a few more squirts of it into the mixture to darken it. Then, repeat the spraying process, except this time do not brush the dye down as far. Now let the wig dry again. Keep repeating this process slowly getting closer and closer to the top until it is dark enough and the right gradient that you want.

Step 8:

When it is dark enough, rinse it under cold water for a few seconds; enough to get the crunchy feeling of the dye out and so it doesn’t rub off onto your cosplay. Let it dry and the comb it out carefully starting from the bottom and up.

Step 9:

This step is optional. The bucky classic is a pretty curly wig and Laito’s hair is mostly curly at only the ends, not the top, so I straightened the top half of it.

Step 10:

For the styling, tease and spray hairspray so the front stays up and add some styling gel to add detail to the hair. If your wig is heart resistant, you can add more curls to the wig with a straightener so the hair flips up better in the front.

Finished~!

That’s it~! That is how I styled and dyed my wig for Laito Sakamaki. If you have any questions or suggestions feel free to ask me. I know that some things I write don’t make sense to some so if you need clarification on something don’t hesitate to ask! I really hope you enjoyed this and that I was able to help you with your cosplay!

Sirius Black fluff

Sorry it’s so short, but hope you enjoy it!!

Requested

Sirius…” you complained, as he kissed your neck. “I’m going to be late for Transfiguration.” But you couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he responded by growling against you.

“It’s fine. McGinnie won’t mind.” he muttered, kissing your jaw, you cheeks, your lips; you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to be carried away for a moment, before his hand grazing your hip bought you to your senses again.

“Sirius, I seriously have to go.” you said, firmly, stepping away from him and his smirking eyes.

He pouted. “But I’ll miss you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Fine.” He tugged on your hand. “Just one last kiss though?”

You sighed, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Fine. Just one more.”

He grinned, and pulled you close, wrapping you in his arms and pressing his lips softly to yours. Every time he kissed you or held you, it left you weak at the knees, and your heart pummelled your chest as you breathed in his scent- the smell of leather, books and something that was solely Sirius. In that moment, you wished you could stay in his arms forever, but you knew that you had to leave. Two weeks of detention with McGonagall didn’t sound like a great way to start the term.

“I’ll see you in a bit.” you whispered, breaking away from him, and tugging on the bag strap slipping down your shoulder.

He grinned after you. “See you.”

On the way to class, you straightened your shirt and combed you fingers through your hair, trying to look less like you you’d just had a make out session, and more like you’d last track of time ion the library.

It didn’t work.

“Sorry, Professor.” you muttered, scrambling in to class and feeling the stares of a dozen other students smirking at you- mostly people were grinning, but a few girls were glaring jealously. Every one of their faces said they knew exactly why you were late.

McGonagall’s mouth pursed and she rolled her eyes. “Over there, miss (Y/L/N). And please tell Mr Black that where education might not be important to him, I don’t want him holding up my other students.”

You flushed as the class laughed. “I will, Professor.” And scuttled to your seat, tugging your books out of your bag.

Damn Sirius Black and his irritatingly good kisses.

Interview for Two Tom HiddlestonxReader One-Shot

  With slick palms, you opened the building door, leaving a nice sweaty mark on the handle.  Reaching the elevator, you traveled up to the third floor where the interview was to take place.  
   Why am I so nervous? You thought to yourself, It’s only an interview – and I’m not even the one being interviewed!
   
Straightening your back and combing your hair behind your ear with your fingers, you entered your final destination, the meeting room.  As you regulated your breathing, you pushed open the wooden door.  Until you realized that you were supposed to pull it.  Giggling quietly to yourself for a split second, you composed your laughter and properly opened the door.  Upon entering the room, you noticed the blazing lights, appropriately set up to give the most attractive angles.  Similarly, you saw the two chairs sitting opposite to one another.  
   "Hello, Miss __(full name)__?“ A short, clean shaven man inquired.  You simply nodded your head in response.
   "Alright, so everything is set up and ready to go, we are just waiting on the main man,” he informed you with a smile.
   "Okay, great,“ you replied.

Keep reading

4

Steps:

  1. Start with clean, knot-free hair that’s been thoroughly brushed.
  2. Grab a flat iron (make sure its settings aren’t higher than in the 300s fahrenheit range) and run through inch-wide strands, starting at the root and sliding all the way down to the ends of each piece of hair. Even if you have naturally straight hair, using a flat iron will make your hair look extra sleek and remove frizziness. If your hair is unlikely to remain straight for long, combing mousse through damp hair and using anti-frizz serum will help it hold!
  3. Once all of your hair is straightened, run a comb over the top of your head, removing any parts. Gather the combed hair, the width of the chunk reaching from the ends of the forehead (or approximately going upwards from the ends of both eyebrows), and lift it upwards.
  4. Give it that extra bump of volume by teasing the hair from the center of the strands to the root. 
  5. Lay the hair on your head once you’ve reached a level of volume you’re happy with, making sure that as you prepare it for pinning into place, you’re giving the hair enough slack to maintain its volume. Twist it right once on the back of your head and pin into place with a hair clip/barette/bobby pins. Use several if you feel your hair might slip out of place.
  6. Spray with hair spray if preferred.
  7. Good luck!

The waterfall

The waterfall falls quickly now,
Rushing to the rocks below
The waterfall twists about itself,
Ties itself into a knot
It’s tendrils thrashing about,
Reaching out
Yearning itself forward
Hoping to collapse

Rocks and boulders below
Await it with open arms
Ready but unknowing of the waterfalls descent
But the stream is the knife that will cut the waterfall free
The stream breathes through the waterfall like a comb
Straightening out all the split ends
The waterfall lets out a sigh of relief
And falls

A.G.

What Isn’t Mine (Sam Winchester)

A/N: Gah this is my very first attempt at writing a smut fic so please let me know whether I did okay guys and whether I should keep writing it or not *blushes*
Kind of nervous here…

Pairings: Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, cheating, crying, unprotected sex (please always be safe), swearing 

Word Count: 2978

Summary: Sam Winchester is dating your best friend Jess but does that mean his completely off limits?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Leaving the lecture hall I shoved my textbooks into my bag mercilessly; jumping slightly when I suddenly felt an arm wrap around my own. I lifted my head to look up at my best friend, Jess. Her light blonde curls bouncing around her face as she laughed.
“Little jumpy today are we?”
“Just tired” I mumbled back, “It was a long class”
“Well it’s good that we have lunch now isn’t it?”
We continued down the hallway, Jess talking without breath about her day, moaning about the teachers and the amount of work they were handing out. I was only partially listening; her voice washing over me with only a few words sticking out in my mind. I just wasn’t focusing.

We walked out into the courtyard, heading towards our usual table when the reason for my lack of attention called out to us. Sam Winchester.
I wet my bottom lip with my tongue as I watched him jog over towards the spot we were standing, his brown hair hanging in front of his face, dimples on display as he smiled at us.
I untangled my arm from Jess as Sam wrapped his arm around her waist, kissing her tenderly against the lips. I looked away, feeling the bile reach the back of my throat, an uncomfortable wrenching feeling in my stomach.
“Hey y/n” Sam said after he pulled away from Jess, “How were your classes?”
“Long and boring” I groaned, flashing him a wide smile.
He nodded his head in agreement, huffing out a laugh; my insides twisting again at the sound.
“Come on baby lets go get some lunch” Jess whined, “I’m hungry”
“Alright, alright I’m coming” Sam replied, “You coming y/n?”
“Yeah of course, you guys go I’ll catch up”
They both shrugged their shoulders, walking off hand in hand. I stood there for a second, trying to squash down the bitter taste on my tongue.
Being in love with your best friends boyfriend made everything more difficult; lying to Jess about my feelings was difficult, that girl could read me like a book at the best of times; lying to all our friends about why I didn’t want to go out on dates was difficult. Everything became harder after I fell in love with him.
After standing there for more than five minutes debating with myself I trudged off to find them, my hands shaking slightly by my sides.

“Where were you?” Jess questioned as I walked up towards the table; dropping my bag down on the ground.
“Taking my time” I lied, “Enjoying the scenery”
My voice came out snarkier than I intended but it didn’t seem to effect Jess; however Sam looked over towards me with a cocked eyebrow, his smile turning down into a slight frown. I pursed my lips, sitting across from him and grabbing the third soft drink can off the table, popping the top and taking a large mouthful.
“So y/n, the girls and I are heading out tonight, wanna come? Maybe you’ll meet some handsome man you can have your way with”
I looked at Sam to see if he would react…nothing.
“Ah no thanks, got heaps of studying I need to catch up on”
“Come on, you haven’t been out in ages!” She groaned, “Is there some secret man in your life I don’t know about?” I choked on my drink.
“What? No! No one”
“Whatever y/n but you’ll have to leave your dorm room eventually” She sighed, spooning another mouthful of salad into her mouth.
Before I had the chance to reply another person joined us at the table; a heavy sigh escaping her lips.
“God I’m so ready for the day to be over!”
Claire turned towards Jess, falling into easy conversation quickly. I fished my phone out of my pocket while they were distracted, noticing the new text message; from Sam, one minute ago.

I need you so bad

I gulped the lump down in my throat, locking my phone and shoving it back into my pocket. Was he mad?! What if someone had seen that? Just as I was about to look up and glare at him I felt his hand wrap around my leg, his fingers pressing into the skin just above my knee.
“What are you doing” I hissed quietly, shoving his hand off my body.
His eyes were full of lust as he looked at me, his cheeks coloured lightly pink.
Just that look on his face brought back a thousand memories of our time together; the heat, the sweat, the pure friction that spread between our bodies as we connected.
The heat pooled in the pit of my stomach, my thighs pressing together and my cheeks flushed. Damn him.
Jumping up off my seat I looked around for my bag, startling both Jess and Claire.
“Are you okay y/n?” Jess asked with concern.
“I’m fine…I just remembered I have so much I need to do…I…I’ll see you later okay?”
I walked away at a fast pace, not caring which direction I was walking, anywhere away from here would do.
Why did Sam have to affect me so much? I couldn’t understand how he got under my skin like that; all I wanted was to forget about my feelings for him, forget about the way he made me feel. Was that too much to ask for?
However nothing I did could remove his image from the back of my mind; the way his hair stuck to his face while he was sweating and panting, his chest heaving from the pure pleasure coursing through his body, the way his arms felt as they wrapped around my thighs, hands squeezing my ass… No! Stop y/n, pull yourself together!

I had almost made it completely out of the courtyard when someone wrapped their hand around the top of my arm, leading me around the corner. I looked up into Sam’s hazel eyes, the breath freezing in my throat; he pushed my body against the brick wall, trapping my hand above my head and forcing his knee between my legs.
“I. Need. You.” He whispered, his hot breath fanning over my collarbone.
“Sam we can’t…someone will see”
“I don’t care”
“I do! What if Jess finds out?”
“Is that what you’re worried about? Honestly?” Sam groaned, rubbing his leg against my thigh.
“Sam I said this was over”
“Come on baby” He cooed, touching his lips against my jaw line, “If  you want me to stop then say so right now”
“Sam…” I moaned, bringing my free hand up to tangle in his hair as he kissed down the side of my neck, sucking a bruise just under my ear.
“Sam?” I heard Jess yell, her voice coming closer towards us with every second.
I shoved Sam off of me, straightening my shirt and combing my fingers through my hair, brushing it over my shoulder to hide Sam’s marking.
Jess came round the corner a second later, halting slightly when she saw the two of us.
“Oh there you are…y/n I didn’t think you were still here”
“Oh uh ah” I stammered, looking for the right words.
“Y/n forgot her phone at lunch, I was just catching up to her to give it back”
The lie slipped off his tongue with ease, his voice normal and smooth, giving nothing away. I was jealous of his ability to act so calm in a situation like this; we were so close to getting caught. This was why I ended it in the first place, so neither of us got hurt…so Jess didn’t get hurt.
We had been best friends since middle school, sharing our first crushes, sharing secrets; the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her but I couldn’t stay away from Sam, we were connected in so many other ways than just sex.
He understood me; understood what it was like coming from a messed up family life, understood what it was like to be the new kid in school, to be the freak nobody wanted to be friends with. We were best friends the minute we met, I would do anything for him and he would for me.
The first time we were ever together was one weekend Jess was away; she was visiting her family up state and I had come around to their apartment for a study session. Three bottles of wine later, one hot make out session and we were under the sheets, waking up in each other’s arms.
“Y/n?” Jess knocked me out of my thoughts.
“Huh?”
“Are you coming with us or do you still have things to do?”
I looked down at their intertwined hands, Jess leaning against his side.
“No thanks…I’ll catch up with you guys later”
I turned away, trudging up the sidewalk with my hands stuffed into my jacket pocket, my eyes stinging slightly. Jess really didn’t know how lucky she had it with Sam.

-

Seven o’clock rolled around with me sitting on my couch, a bottle of wine tucked between my legs with only the dregs left. There was a slight buzz working its way through my system but it wasn’t enough, I needed more.
Huffing out a breath I reached over to the coffee table, grabbing my phone and unlocking the screen. I opened a new message and scrolled through until I found Sam’s name.

 Are you alone?

It only took a second before his reply came through, my phone lighting up with a loud bing.

Yeah, Jess is already out…why?

I’m coming over

-

I knocked on his front door about fifteen minutes later, the anticipation of what was about to come sending shock waves through my body, a shiver running down my spine. I felt my breath hitch in my throat when Sam opened the door; only in a pair of grey sweats, his chest on full display. I couldn’t stop my eyes from roaming down his figure, biting my lip softly and groaning.
As soon as I was inside and the front door was shut Sam was pushing me up against it. His body pressing deliciously against mine; lips crashing against my own in lustful hunger. His hands held onto my hips, brushing the exposed skin as he pushed my singlet further up my body.
“Sam” I moaned against his neck, gasping when the fabric of my shirt rubbed against the hard nubs on my breasts.
“Need you” He replied, bringing his lips back up to mine and grazing his teeth against my bottom lip.
I parted my mouth to let his tongue in, my eyes fluttering shut as it massaged the roof of my mouth, our saliva mixing together.
When he wrapped his hands around my ass, squeezing slightly I jumped, wrapping my legs around his waist as he held me up.

We made it to the couch in a tangle of limbs, Sam with his back to the cushions, my legs clamped around either side of his hips, hands tugging at his hair. He moaned into my mouth, his erection throbbing against the inside of my thigh. Detaching our lips I shimmied down the couch until I was level with the apex of his legs, my fingers working swiftly as I pulled at the waist band of his sweats, removing him of both them and his boxers in one movement, my mouth salivating at the sight of his hard member springing free, the wetness of his pre cum beading at his slit.
I pumped him slowly in my hand at first, taking the time to admire him in this position; eyes closed, lips parted and a slow whine escaping his throat.
“Ungh y/n” He groaned, “Need…need”
“I know what you need baby” I cooed, leaning down and licking a strip up the underside of his cock. When I reached the top I took his tip into my mouth, spreading the stickiness over my tongue, moaning around him at the taste. Sam bucked his hips up, grabbing a hold of my hair as he fought to control his actions. Hollowing my cheeks I took in more of him, using my hand to stroke what my mouth couldn’t reach.
Sam watched my ministrations through lidded eyes, the flush on his face only spurring me on further; my actions slowly picking up speed.
“Agh!”
I could tell that he was getting close to his end, his chest now rising rapidly, his words coming out as strangled moans and groans.
“y/n baby…I can…can’t…wanna be in…in you”
I let him go with a wet pop, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. After catching his breath slightly he shifted so he was hovering over me, pushing my shoulder back gently until my shoulders touched the cushions.

Sam brought his hands up to cup my breasts, his tongue flicking out over the sensitive bud, rolling it through his teeth gently. I closed my eyes and let the sensation of Sam take over, a rush of heat shooting straight to my core.
He moved his lips to my collarbone the same time he snaked one of his hands down across my stomach; his fingers disappearing under the band of my leggings as his mouth left another mark on my skin. A moan left the back of my throat as his fingers ghosted over the one place I needed him.
“Sam please” I groaned, grinding my core down onto his hand.
He pulled my pants from my legs, throwing them over his shoulder, licking his lips as he looked at my most vulnerable area.
“You ready for me baby?” He whispered as he pumped himself a few times, lining himself up along my entrance; dragging his cock along my folds. I nodded my head, reaching up to grab his shoulders, pulling him down until our lips connected again. I gasped as he pushed into me, stopping once he had buried himself completely in my heat, letting me adjust to his size.
A squeeze to the shoulder let him know that I was ready to move, the roll of his hips causing my eyes to close.
“Faster Sammy please” I begged, bringing my hips up to meet each of his thrusts.
His breath was cooling on my hot skin, a thin layer of sweat covering us both. Sam began to pound harder, his skin slapping against mine, each thrust inwards hitting my sweet spot at just the right angle.
“I…I’m not gonna las…last y/n”
“Ugh I know Sam…Sammy me too”
He moved his hand down until he reached my clit, rubbing his thumb in harsh circles; the coil in my stomach winding tighter. I could feel myself reaching my edge, my fingers curling against Sam’s shoulder blades, nails digging into his skin. I came with a cry of his name on my lips, my body shuddering and convulsing as my orgasm shook me, white spots appearing in front of my vision.
After a few more sloppy thrusts Sam reached his high, shooting his load along my walls; the slick stickiness running warm down the insides of my thighs.
I held him tight as he came down, his face buried in the crook of my neck, leaving lazy kisses along my skin.

Reaching around me he grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch, throwing it over our bodies before snuggling back against me.
“Sam…don’t”
“Please don’t do this again y/n” He whispered back, his arms tightening around me.
“Sam you know we can’t…it…it’s supposed to be just sex”
“Bullshit y/n I know you don’t believe that”
“It doesn’t matter if I believe it or not Sammy…that’s the way it has to be”
“Why?”
“Because you love Jess”
This was always the hardest part; the harsh reality of our situation being the only thing left after the intimacy had dissipated.
“I love you too y/n”
“Don’t say that Sam”
I shifted myself out from under him, looking around the room for my clothes, keeping my gaze away from Sam. I knew that if I looked at him I wouldn’t want to leave, wouldn’t be able to leave.
“It’s true y/n” He muttered, “And I know you love me too”
“I can’t love you Sam don’t you get it?! I can’t let myself love you because it hurts too much…you don’t know how much it hurts seeing you every day with Jess and not being able to have you…I…I just can’t please don’t make this harder”
I pulled on my pants, grabbing my singlet off the floor and yanking it over my head, ignoring the way Sam was looking at me; his eyes watering slightly, jaw locked tight.
“I can’t let you go though”
“We have to stop Sam”
“I can’t! You mean to much to me”
His arms wrapped around my waist, tugging me back against his body, head resting on the back of my neck, his nose nuzzling against my hair. I was about to argue with him more, pull myself from his grasp when his phone rang from the coffee table, Jess’s name appearing on the screen. Sam looked at it before turning back to me, at war with himself.
“You should get that” I muttered.
Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair as he answered the phone.
“Hey baby…your coming back now?…”
My heart felt like it was tearing itself in two, my stomach churning horribly, just like it did every time I left. Before Sam had the chance to get off the phone I slipped through the front door, making it down the first flight of stairs before the sobs racked through my chest, my eyes blurring with the sudden appearance of tears.
I covered my mouth with my hand, making it down the stairs as fast as I could; the quaking sobs loud and ugly.
Being in love with your best friends boyfriend made everything more difficult…

4

Lydia’s 3x19 Hairstyle:

  1. Start with brushed and combed hair. Straighten it (curling the ends) as close to the root as possible to avoid frizz and get the same sleek hair as Lydia’s hairstyle.
  2. Part hair down the middle and separate hair in half as equally as possible.
  3. Pull aside a few strands of hair to leave out of the braid–a few on the nape of the  neck, a few by the ear, and a few under the bangs, all close enough to the forehead so other hair can drape over it.
  4. Starting on a preferred side, grab the half of hair and begin braiding, more on the taut than loose side. Braiding the hair while holding it upwards will keep it from looking awkwardly folded when pinning it on the upside of your head, so braid upwards and stay close to your head. If you have shorter hair, you can braid in strands directly onto your head versus braiding longer hair and pinning it into place.
  5. Braid until you reach the end of the hair and leave it be. Do the same to the other side, pulling it upwards as you go.
  6. Drape both braids on the top of the head, allowing them to overlap or sit side by side. Pin the ends into place under the neighboring braid so the ends are out of sight, using bobby pins similar to your hair color for ultimate limited visability.
  7. Run a curling iron through the strands left out of the braid, the iron around one inch wide to create a loose, large wave. Leave out as many or as little pieces as preferred, and keep straight for a less glamorous look.
  8. Hairspray into place for maximum longevity.
  9. Good luck!

Consult a milkmaid braid tutorial video like this one on YouTube for a better visual aid.

It’s War

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

You ran behind the large pile of snow hastily, breath hitching in your throat. Placing one hand upon your speeding heart, you reached the other one into the white material next to you, its coldness seeping through your gloves.


“Hah!” You stood up suddenly from behind your poor excuse of a fortress, and launched the ball of snow you fisted in your palms at the other side of the meadow. You smirked as a satisfying thump! echoed in the misty winter air.


“YOU ARE SO GOING TO PAY FOR THAT! IT’S OFFICIALLY WAR.”


“MAKE ME.” You danced happily, hands fluttering and arms waving all over the place. That is, until a snowball twice the size of the one you just sent flying smacked you hard, straight in the core.


“JEON JUNGKOOK!!!!!!”


“I think I’ll be able to hear you all the way in outer space from the volume of that.” he snickered, amused by your expression as you clutched your torso, face twisting in exaggerated agony while slowing sinking to your knees. You looked up from you spot in the thick snow and saw him smiling at you, not even fooled the slightest bit by your poor theatre skills, and straightened immediately, combing your hands calmly through your hair as if nothing happened.


“Ugh, you win.” you admitted unwillingly through pursed lips.


“Of course,” he scoffed.


“Don’t be such a showoff.” Standing up from your position, you brushed the thin layer of snow off your knees and clothes. “It’s so cold out here, I want to go home.”


“Shouldn’t we clean this up first though?”


You scanned around at the mayhem that was a beautiful snow covered meadow merely twenty minutes ago, and scratched your head, “No, I think I’m good.”


Jungkook laughed at your feigned innocence as you looked at him with enlarged eyes and ruffled your hair, his own eyes glistening from the reflection casted by the bright snow, “If you say so.”


You thought that the snowball fight would already be behind you guys as history, but in the car during the way home, all he could talk about was his “brilliant” attack tactic.


“You see, you only lost because you had such a fragile fort. If you had built yours like mine, you could’ve have lasted so much longer. You wouldn’t have won, but you wouldn’t have lost as pitifully as you did.”


He definitely felt your heated glare threatening to burn a whole in his right cheek as he steered the vehicle carefully, but simply ignored it with a small grin.


“And if you had attacked when I was undefended while scooping up snow…” he continued to ramble, and you tuned him out, transitioning your attention to the vivid screen of your phone.


“Are you even listening to me?”


“Quite frankly, no.”


He rolled his eyes, and casted a sideways glance at you momentarily before directing his gaze on the road once more. “This is why you lose every year.”


“Mm-hm,” you hummed absentmindedly.


He grew slightly irritated by your devotion to the lit screen under your nose, so the moment he stopped the car, he rushed out of the drivers seat and flung your door open. He reached his hands under your arms and lifted you out of your position in the passenger side, throwing you over his shoulders with your desperate yelps ringing in the parking lot.


“YAH! JEON JUNGKOOK! PUT ME DOWN RIGHT THIS INSTANT!” You hit him lightly on the back with a balled fist, but he ignored your complaints.


“Make me,” he teased in mocking tone, mimicking your little sly remark from the snowball fight not too long ago.


He singlehanded unlocked the house door, and kicked off his shoes at the entrance. Walking into the house, he removed you from his shoulder, and set you down on the kitchen counter. You scowled at him, throat raw from yelling at him the entire way until now.


“Will you always listen to what I have to say now?” He leaned towards your face, inches away from your nose, and his warm breath hit your cheeks, making you shudder slightly.


“Maybe.” you huffed, and crossed your arms across your chest, pouting.


“What was that?” He closed in more on you, so close that if you moved by even a millimeter, your lips would touch.


“Okay, I’ll listen to everything you say.” you whispered softly.


He eliminated the short distance between you guys, and softly touched his lips on yours. “Good girl.” he smiled.


He slid his hand into yours, and lacing your fingers together, he pulled you off the counter and into the living room. He pointed at the couch and made you sit down, which you obliged obediently, and walked towards the small fireplace in the corner of the room. You admired his biceps coil and uncoil as he lifted a large chunk of firewood out of the large pile and place it inside. He swiped a match, threw it on the wood, and quickly flipped on the gas. Soon enough, an inferno flickered steadily, illuminating the walls with a subtle, orange glow and heating up the room.


He turned around after poking the fire a bit to get it to burn at a satisfactory strength, and moved into the empty spot next to you on the couch. Swinging an arm around your shoulders, a comfortable silence wrapped around the two of you as he joined you in watching the flame.


After a while, he asked, “Are you hungry?”


“Yes. Very.”


“What do you want?”


After pondering for a bit, you decided, “Cookies!”


“I’ll bake some for you then.” he stood up, and you watched him wearily as he stepped towards the kitchen, a skeptical look hanging on your features.


“But we don’t have any of the cookie dough we bought last time left. We gave them all to Jin to bake for the boys, remember?”


“Then I’ll make them from scratch.”


You stared at the determined set of his brows for at least five minutes, rating in your head on a scale of one to ten how horrible of an idea this was, but then merely shrugged and turned back around to the fireplace, “You’re cleaning up by yourself.”

Originally posted by jjungkook

Originally posted by ky-ngsoo

Anonymous said: “Hi!! Could I request a fluffy thing with you and Kookie playing in the snow and having a snowball fight and cuddling by the fire afterwards? And also maybe making homemade cookies together with the whole thing turning into a mess? Thanks! <3″

Here you go!! I hope you like it!


A/N: a cute fluffy scenario before hell breaks loose after i post part 2 to the I Need You series lol. jk. but yea .-.

Little Shop of First Meetings

AO3

Pairing(s): KenHina, KuroTsuki

Rating: G

Words: 3,354

Summary: Kenma gets dragged along to one Kuroo’s coffee dates, as the older boy insists that he shouldn’t stay cooped up at home all day. Instead of third-wheeling, he meets an overly-friendly barista to pass the time with. Non-Volleyball, Indulgent Coffee Shop AU

A/N: This is my first Haikyuu!! fic, so I hope it’s not too shabby! Also, yay! My first fic of 2016 ^^

The bells dangling from the shop door brushed against the other with a melodious jangle as two high school boys entered, the taller of the two having to hold the door open for his technologically-preoccupied friend, his large, round eyes perpetually glued to the small screen of his cellphone. Kuroo watched him trudge by with silent amusement, letting the door swing close behind them with a scoff.

“You know, one of these days you’re gonna walk right into a pole or a wall or something ad I’ll be too busy laughing my ass off to come to your rescue.”

“You wouldn’t let that happen to me,” the smaller teen retorted without missing a beat.

“Oho? Think you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, huh?” Kuroo chortled, giving his friend’s hair a playful tousle. “Well, maybe I’d help you out. I probably would. But it’d still be funny as hell!”

Kenma stared ahead at his phone, too absorbed in the game and far from the mood for banter. He was still sullen from the dreary weather, the crisp winter chill lingering outside. It was Kuroo’s grand idea that the younger boy needed fresh air, practically dragging him out the front door of his house. Had his friend not insisted on toting him along to what was ambiguously a date, he’d be perfectly nestled at home right now with one of his video game consoles. More than anything, Kenma simply disliked being out in public more than absolutely necessary. He felt far too exposed.

Keep reading

Help Me Escape This Place - Part 5 (Ashton Irwin

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Part 4 // Part 6 // Part 7

Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10

Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13

Part 14 // Part 15 // Epilogue

A/N: TW: abuse and violence

You’re startled awake by the sound of soft unfamiliar snores in your ear. You turn your head swiftly and smile as you realize that Ashton is still next to you, his arm wrapped comfortingly around your waist. He sighs and snuggles deeper into your side, nuzzling his face into your neck softly. His stubble covered jaw tickles your skin forcing a giggle to escape from your lips. Ashton’s head pops up suddenly and he looks at you through his one open eye, a large childish grin spreading lazily across his face.

“Good morning, beautiful girl,” he whispers, his morning voice a perfect combination of raspy and soft. He leans his upper body onto his left elbow, propping his head up in his hand. He brings his right hand up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb traces your lips. Your eyelids flutter closed as memories of the previous night flood unbidden into your mind. His lips pressing against yours, hands firmly but gently grasping your waist. His thumbs tucking underneath the hem of his shirt that you’re wearing, stroking the sensitive skin of your hips. Ashton growling when he realizes that you’re wearing nothing beneath your tight pants. The heat of your desire for him as he pushes even closer toward you, his knee hitching over your leg as half of his lean and muscular body rests on top of your smaller frame.

You feel your cheeks flush a deep crimson as his fingers ghost over your face. You open your eyes again to meet his intense stare. “Good morning, Ash,” you reply quietly, looking away in embarrassment.

He softly turns your face back toward his and kisses your lips slowly before pulling back. “I love it when you call me that,” he says so quietly that you barely hear his admission. He opens his eyes and glances over at the clock on the table beside the bed. “We still have about 2 hours before your appointment. Do you want to go get some brunch or something before we go?”

“Sure, that sounds great. I just want to take a quick shower first, is that okay?” you ask him as you detangle yourselves from each other and stand slowly.

Ashton reaches over and places his hands gently on your shoulders. “Absolutely, sweet heart, whatever you want. Go ahead and shower and then I’ll take one after you’re finished. How’s your arm?”

“It hurts, actually,” you admit, bringing your left arm into your right hand. Ashton rushes into the bathroom to get the pills that you left on the counter the night before, grabbing a bottle of water from the small refrigerator before opening it and handing it to you so that you can swallow your medicine.

You move through the room slowly, leaning down to grab fresh clothes and your toiletries from the overnight bag before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You strip out of Ashton’s shirt and your yoga pants before stepping into the large shower stall. You wash your hair and body as well as you can, attempting to keep the wrap on your arm dry by covering it with a plastic shower cap. After your quick shower, you dry your skin and redress in simple jeans and a plain grey v-neck shirt. You brush your teeth and grab a wide tooth comb, quickly straightening out your messy hair.

Ashton looks up from his phone as you step out of the bathroom, smiling sweetly at you. He sets his phone down on the coffee table and makes his way toward you, grabbing you in a tight hug and kissing the top of your head. “So I have a question for you,” he begins. “How do you feel about meeting Mikey and Calum today?” Your body stiffens slightly and he brings his hands down to run soothingly over your arms. “It’s okay if you don’t want to meet them, Y/N. It’s just that they asked if they could hang out with us tonight and I told them I’d talk to you about our plans.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to meet them,” you explain. “I’m just nervous. What if they don’t like me?”

“Don’t be silly, beautiful girl. They’ll love you; I’m sure of it,” he reassures you, kissing your head again. “But it is completely your choice. Think it over while I’m in the shower and I’ll text them back before we head out to eat.” He pulls away and heads to the bathroom while you sit on the couch and absentmindedly flip on the television.

You pull on your old black converse and tie them tightly, thinking about your silly reaction to meeting the guys. If they were friends of Ashton, Vanessa, and Luke, they had to be nice guys. Shaking off your insecurities, you walk over to the vanity outside of the bathroom and blow-dry your hair with the dryer that’s attached to the wall. By the time you’re finished, Ashton is stepping out of the bathroom dressed again in his black skinny jeans, but this time he’s sporting a black AC/DC shirt. He grabs his black boots and sits on the edge of the bed, tying them quickly.

“You look really beautiful, Y/N. Ready to go?” he chirps with a smile. You smile and blush in return and grab his left hand in your right one as you nod and the two of you step out into the hallway together.

“I’m sorry about how I acted earlier when you asked about Mikey and Calum. I’d really love to meet them both,” you tell him sincerely.

You reach the elevator and Ashton presses the down button before he turns you to face him. “You don’t have to apologize for being nervous, baby. You’ve been through a lot and I completely understand where you’re coming from. When I say it’s your choice whether they hang out with us today, I mean it. I want you to understand that everything that you do or don’t do from now on is up to you. You’re in control, okay? Not me, not Dean, not Vanessa, not anyone. You’re in control of your own life now, okay?” he insists, his eyes burning into yours.

“Okay, Ash,” you say simply, leaning up on your toes to press your lips to his briefly. When you rest back on your heels, your cheeks are bright red again.

“Well,” he says happily, “so far I’m enjoying your choices.” You both laugh and step onto the elevator, riding down to the lobby as Ashton makes plans with Michael, Calum, Vanessa, and Luke to meet at a nearby pizza restaurant for dinner.

“Vanessa wants you to get a light colored cast,” Ashton rolls his eyes with a smirk. “She wants to draw all over it.”

You giggle lightly at the suggestion as the two of you enter a small café near your hotel. You’re seated immediately and both order eggs benedict and coffee. “Hey so who’s putting my cast on anyway?” you ask as your server sets your drinks in front of you. You stir cream and sugar into yours as Ashton picks his up and takes a sip of the plain black coffee.

“He’s an orthopedic surgeon that I studied under briefly before deciding on a career in emergency medicine. His name is Dr. John Feldman; he’s definitely the best in the area and he’s a good man. We’ve kept in touch over the years,” he explains, admiration clear in his tone.

The two of you enjoy your meal together and head out of the restaurant at about 12:30. You take a brief cab ride to Dr. Feldman’s office and arrive a little before your appointment time. Your nerves kick back in as you sit in the waiting room, but Ashton soothes you by telling stories of the practical jokes he and Dr. Feldman played on one another when Ashton was still a lowly intern. By the time your name is called by the nurse, you are doubled over in laughter with tears running down your cheeks.

Dr. Feldman, or John as he insists you call him, teases Ashton relentlessly as he and his nurse apply your light pink cast. Your laughter distracts you completely, and before you realize it you are completely finished.

“You’ll need to make a follow-up appointment for about six weeks out, and you can feel free to leave the third wheel at home and come alone,” John winks, causing you to giggle and blush and Ashton to wrap his arm around your waist.

“Nice try, Doc, but aren’t you a little, you know, old?” Ashton jokes as John scowls at him causing a loud laugh to escape your lips. You reach up again and lightly kiss Ashton’s cheek, earning a smirk from both men.

“Hey Ash,” you begin meekly as you walk out of the office, “can we go straight to the police station when we get back? We’ll have time to make it down there and back before dinner, right?”

He looks at you with a grin as he replies, “Sure thing, beautiful. We can do whatever you want to do.”

The two of you make your way back to the hotel on foot this time, just enjoying being together. The walk takes about an hour, but the weather is beautiful and Ashton is holding your hand in his, swinging your arms between you occasionally. He kisses your lips lightly whenever you’re forced to stop at an intersection and each time you feel a fire blooming inside of you. You’ll never understand how you got lucky enough to find him, but you now know that you never want to lose him.

The drive back to town is quiet as your nerves build up again and threaten to overwhelm you. Ashton seems to understand the need for silence and doesn’t attempt small talk or turning on the radio. Instead he rubs soothing circles onto your knee and strokes your hand with his fingertips.

When you pull into the parking lot, Ashton walks around to the passenger side of his SUV to open your door, but you’re frozen in your seat. “I don’t know if I can do this, Ash. I’m so scared that they’re not going to believe me,” you confess quietly.

“They’ll believe you, baby. They will get the documentation of your injuries from the hospitals that you’ve gone to and we were all there last night when he showed up at my house. We all heard what he said. They’ll believe us I promise you. You’re not alone, remember?” he reassures you again as your confidence returns and you plant your feet firmly on the ground, giving him a strong nod. “There’s my girl,” he smiles.

The two of you walk up to the door, and Ashton pulls it open allowing you to enter first. You immediately realize that this is a mistake, however, because the first thing you hear and see when entering the room is Dean.

Your body immediately tenses as you slink back, still unseen by him. “I don’t fucking care if she’s an adult. My girlfriend is missing and someone needs to find her!” he screams.

The woman behind the counter seems unfazed by his outburst, while his shrill, angry voice leaves you shaking in fear.

“If you’re going to want any help at all, the first thing I need for you to do is calm down. If you use that type of language with me again, you’ll be escorted from the premises, are we clear?” the woman scolds him.

Dean’s reaction was just as you’d expect. He does not appreciate being told what to do by anyone, but especially not by a woman. You move your head out from behind Ashton’s broad body to see Dean’s face red with anger. He turns away from the counter and as soon as he does, his eyes lock on yours. Ashton lightly pushes you behind him and takes a step forward as Dean marches toward you.

“I’d suggest you back off right now, man,” Ashton seethes, his back muscles visibly tensed underneath his dark shirt.

“That’s my fucking property you’ve got there, motherfucker. I don’t know who you think you are, but I’d suggest you get the fuck out of here before I fucking kill the both of you,” Dean whispers menacingly in Ashton’s face. Ashton’s arms flex and his hands begin to shake at his sides as two officers rush out from behind the counter and pull the two of them apart.

“I’ll fuck you up, you asshole, I swear to god!” Dean screams as he loses his composure completely. “Get the fuck over here you bitch, and tell these fuckers that you’re mine. You’re coming home with me, Y/N. You don’t get to just do whatever you please. You’re fucking nothing without me!”

“If you don’t calm down right now, you’re going to be arrested for assault,” one of the officers calmly informs Dean as he holds both of his arms behind his back. Rage boils over in Dean’s eyes and he manages to free one of his arms and swing at the officer that’s holding him, knocking him to the ground as he lunging toward you. You scream out and four other officers run out to assist with the situation. Ashton grabs you and pulls you out of harm’s way as three of the men jump on Dean, securing his arms in handcuffs as the fourth helps the injured officer to his feet. They all clear the lobby quickly to avoid any more of a scene and the woman behind the desk brings you and Ashton into a room in the back before closing the door and informing you both that someone would be in shortly to speak with you.

Ashton pulls your shaking body into his tightly and holds you as begin to cry. “You’re safe now, beautiful girl. You’re okay now, it’s okay,” he whispers and soothes you as you cling tightly to his body.

After a few minutes, you’ve calmed down enough to sit at the table in the room, but Ashton doesn’t let go of you. He keeps his arm wrapped firmly around you and turns you to face him in your chair while he kisses your forehead and rests his against it with closed eyes. Your breathing returns to normal as you focus on Ashton’s steady breaths, and you kiss his lips lightly before pulling back and looking at him.

“Thank you, Ash,” you say sincerely.

He shakes his head, looking slightly disappointed in himself, oddly. “I shouldn’t have even let him get that close to you, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Ashton. You have nothing to be sorry for, I promise you,” you tell him before kissing his lips again, just before the same two officers from the previous night come into the room and Ashton pulls your chair closer to his again, wrapping his arm around you protectively.

They ask you some more questions, confirming that Dean is the same person who had threatened you the previous evening. You sign a waiver that gives them permission to obtain your medical records from the hospital for the prosecutor that will be handling the case. You sign all of the paperwork to press charges against Dean for as many offenses as possible, and the officers assure you that with the security camera footage of Dean assaulting a police officer in addition to the statements given by you, Luke, Vanessa, and Ashton, Dean would most likely be going to jail for quite some time. You give them all of yours and Ashton’s contact information and they give you a copy of the restraining order that is granted to you against Dean, before you’re told that you’re free to go.

By the time you leave the station, you are so relieved and giddy that you can’t even remember feeling the fear anymore. Ashton laughs at your carefree attitude brought on by the knowledge that Dean is behind bars right now and there is nothing for you to be afraid of at the moment. As you get in Ashton’s car to make your way to the restaurant to meet everyone, you roll the windows down and laugh, feeling something that you can’t remember feeling since your childhood:

Freedom.