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How to Use | VIP - India's Best Instant hair colour Shampoo
Say goodbye to old-fashion dye. Use India's best VIP hair colour shampoo it makes the greys disappear in 15 minutes. This shampoo doesn't need brush, gloves.
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elibeeline · 1 year
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While im on my streak of doing slightly rebellious things, do i shave my undercut at home or do i go out and get it done at the last place i got it
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bruisedboys · 1 year
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steve harrington definitely gets u to make you both matching friendship bracelets and he never ever takes it off.
SOOO REAL!! he’s so lovesick boyfriend I need him
fluff, established relationship gn!reader, 900 words
Steve loved your bracelets. He thought it was the cutest thing ever, how you wore at least two on each wrist, how you colour-coordinated them to your outfit or to each other. He loved them so much he asked where you’d got them, secretly hoping to find some pretty ones and gift them to you.
“Oh …” You looked at your shoes and tugged at the set of bracelets on your left wrist shyly. “I actually made them.”
Steve was bewildered. He didn’t think someone could be capable of making something so pretty and intricate. “You made them?”
You nodded, cheeks warm. “Well, yeah. I’ve been making them since I was little.”
Steve reached across the space between you, his hands hovering over your own. “Can I?”
You hummed and allowed him to take your wrist in his hands, hold your hand up to his face and get a closer look at your bracelets. When he was done he took your other hand, his thumb pressing gently into your pulse point as he inspected your bracelets.
“They’re so pretty,” he said, a bit wonderstruck. His gaze moved slowly from your wrists to your eyes. “You’re incredible.”
He dropped your hands but only to take one in his own again, pushing his fingers through yours. You flushed.
“I’m really not, Steve,” you said quietly. “It’s easy.”
Steve hummed, swinging your hands gently between you. “Well, I still think you’re incredible. Do you think you could make me one?”
There was a beat of silence — you’d secretly already started making him one. It was almost done but you were too nervous to finish it, because then you’d actually have to give it to him.
“Sure,” you said, and Steve beamed. “What colours do you want?”
You’d already picked out blue and purple. You hoped he wouldn’t say something completely different.
“Whatever you want, baby,” Steve said sweetly. “M’sure you’ll pick the best ones.”
You almost melted. He was too wonderful. “Okay,” you said.
“And, hey!” Steve clicked his fingers like he had had an epiphany, a habit of his that made him all the more adorable. “You could make us matching ones, if you want. Or I could make you one …” He trailed off disdainfully and wrinkled his nose at you. “It would probably fall to pieces.”
You giggled and gave his hand a big squeeze. “That’s okay, Stevie. I’ll make them.”
You let yourself into Steve’s house, like you always did. He knew you were coming, so you stayed quiet as you slipped off your shoes and shut the door. You were wearing your bracelets, as usual, with the addition of purple and blue one to match the bracelet you’d given Steve three days ago.
He wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room, so you ventured upstairs.
“Steve?”
No answer. You got closer to his room and heard the shower running from his adjoining bathroom. He was singing, though admittedly quite badly, but it bought a smile to your lips.
You approached the bathroom door, happy to wait but not wanting to shock him when he came out. You knocked twice.
“Steve? It’s me.”
The smile in his voice was evident when he yelled back. “Y/N! I’m almost done, just give me a couple minutes.”
“That’s okay, take your time.”
You made to sit on his bed but he called you back.
“You can come in if you want, sweetheart. Door’s unlocked.”
His tone wasn’t suggestive, though you wouldn’t have minded, really, if it was. You had an inkling he missed you as much as you missed him, so you opened the door and stepped in.
Steam clouded half the bathroom, warm air engulfing you as you stepped over the tiles. Steve’s clothes and watch were piled on the counter and the sweet scent of his shampoo surrounded you.
The shower curtain moved and Steve’s head appeared, wet hair dripping over his forehead. “Hi, sweet thing.”
You beamed, “Hi. Nice singing.”
Steve reddened, fake-glared, and then laughed like he couldn’t help himself. “Thanks. I think I’m getting pretty good, don’t you?”
“Mhm,” you hummed good-naturedly.
You crossed the bathroom and Steve’s lovesick gaze followed you until you were right in front of him. You reached up to push a dripping strand of hair from his eyes, then your gaze fell to his hand that was holding the curtain back and your heart skyrocketed.
He was wearing the bracelet you’d made him.
“You’re wearing your bracelet,” you said quietly, you heart thrumming with enamour. “In the shower.”
Steve looked down like he hadn’t even realised. He probably hadn’t. “Oh, yeah.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, though it was to you. “You know I’m never taking it off, right?”
You had to blink a few times before you looked up. Your adoration for him must’ve shown on your face, because Steve gave you a quizzical look.
“What?”
“Nothing.” You lifted one shoulder, took his hand with the bracelet in your own. Your wrists pressed together and your bracelets lined up. His blue with a purple heart pattern, yours purple with a blue heart pattern.
You tore your eyes away from the matching bracelets to look at Steve, and you didn’t regret it. His smile was all dopey and his freckled face flushed.
“Just love you, is all.”
Understatement of the century.
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But then its Monday.
Eddie Munson x GN Reader
Your eyes feel hot, body a dead weight, the magic of the couch is winning a fight you know won't translate to the bed, pulling you under.
You don't want it not yet, but the TVs light is getting too bright now the violet toned skies have gave way, no longer colouring the room in dying light and growing shadows.
His weight shifts besides you his hair tickling your cheek from where it's pressed into his arm, scented with the coconut shampoo he'd stolen from you for a shower, locks still a little damp in the places curled around the nape of his neck.
His hand's walking a soothing cararss into the soft flesh above your elbow and you lean yourself into him, closing your eyes as a chuckle rumbles through his chest at a line from the show your watching that never quite makes it to your ears.
'Hey?'
His voice curls around you subconscious but it's movement that makes your eyes flutter open, makes you groan as the pocket of heat youde created disperses and causes you to shudder as gooseflesh raises on your skin.
Eyes squinting up to him, a soft face with his own tired brown eyes look down.
'Let's get to bed."
"No just one more episode." You rasp moving from where your body had molded to his side.
"You slept through the last one. "
"I wasn't sleeping."
He raises his eyesbrows and goes to wipe the corner of your mouth and you swat his hand away.
"I was resting my eyes."
He laughs this time pointing to the wet patch on his shoulder.
"Come on its late." he stretches out, back arching and the blanket slips completely off you, an involuntary whine leaving you in protest as you curl up against the throw pillows.
"You need sleep." he says gently groaning as he stands hands raking though his hair and an easy smile on his face.
"But if I sleep it willl be Monday."
He tips his head silently, eyes locked on yours as his hand reaches out to you and reluctantly you let him pull you up.
He pulls you in, face nuzzling down until you look at him eyebrows knitted, he makes an overegzagertad display of copying your expression until a smile finally tugs at your mouth .
You let him drag you to the bathroom, his arm wrapped around you as you brush your teeth silently, tired bones leaning against each other as you smile sleepy toothpaste smiles at each other in the mirror.
The beds cold when he drags you under, shapes of the room diffused in the midnight umbra.
Legs tangle searching for warmth, socks are shed beneath a sanctuary of polycotton and body heat.
Until you still, softening with foreheads pressed together.
"Sleep." he hushes "I got you."
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callsigns-haze · 2 months
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Out of All: Prologue and mood board
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Coming March 11
Brothers' Best Friend Series! Follow along as these characters navigate the treacherous waters of love, loyalty, and desire, all while facing the ultimate taboo: falling for your sibling's best friend. From heart-pounding moments to steamy encounters, this series is a rollercoaster of emotions that will keep you hooked until the very end. Brace yourself for intense romantic tension, sizzling chemistry, and enough drama to keep you guessing. Are you ready to embark on this captivating journey?
Prepare for a rollercoaster of emotions and intense romantic tension! This series delves into the forbidden territory of falling for your sibling's best friend. Brace yourself for heart-pounding moments, sizzling chemistry, and plenty of drama as these characters navigate the complexities of love, loyalty, and desire. Reader discretion is advised for steamy scenes and intense emotional connections that might leave you swooning or on the edge of your seat.
The warm water drizzles upon your scalp as you massage the vanilla shampoo into your hair. Your eyes were closed and your head was tilted upwards, as you tried to wash out all the shampoo foam.
You moved once again. Not that you wanted too anymore. Bradley, your older brother, was getting permanently stationed at top gun so you couldn't say no to coming over.
Warm showers like this allow you to relax, to take deep breaths and let out no stress. Bradley wanted to drag you here, he wanted you to start a fresh life, not the one you were living before. Your older brother wasn't happy with your life choices.
You had the highest degree in architecture and design, you could be earning millions by now but you chose to put aside the seven years of college and went in the footsteps of music.
You completely have rinsed off all the shampoo that coated your head, sadly problems are not so easy to rinse off, especially problems with your only family member.
You pick up the big bottle of conditioner and squirt it into your hand before applying into your hair. You scrunch it upwards, settling it into your brown curls. You let the conditioner sit for awhile as you sink down to the floor of the shower.
You've only been here for two weeks, you were going to find your own place but Bradley insisted on you moving in with him. He had a nice touch but it wasn't home to you, it never will be.
You've avoided navy bars like you always did. You went to some club down Northside where you met a guy, you wanted to avoid meeting a navy pilot as much as possible so you didn't end up fucking your brother's colleagues.
You met a guy, he was hot, smoking hot. His blonde hair was a dirty colour and he had the most beautiful eyes you could've seen. His accent was thick and strong, making you want to bend over every time you've heard it. You'd let that guy fuck you into next Sunday if that's what he asked for.
You finally get yourself up and start rinsing the conditioner, putting one hand on your shower wall for support and remember how the blonde guy you've met did the same thing the second time you hooked up. You've met him three times.
First time at the bar, where you got in his car and he started to kiss you, you fucked for hours making love on the backseat. Later he gives you his number but first you establish that whatever is going on no feelings better be catch.
The third time was on Wednesday. You met up at the same bar as previously but this time he fucked you in one of the bathroom stolls, and he didn't ever go easy.
You stepped out the shower wrapping your hair in a brown towel and lightly dry off your body, you didn't care about wrapping your body in a towel since your bedroom is connected to your bathroom so you simply walk into your bedroom naked.
You lie down on your bed and smile, today is Sunday meaning Bradley goes out for golf later with his teammates but it also means you meet your guy again tonight.
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Treacherous Games | Harry James Potter
Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!reader
Warnings: maybe some swearing (you never know around Ron), otherwise just fluff, pining, and crushing hard.
Summary: Harry is crushing on Reader during a match of Two-A-Side Quidditch.
a/n: Set in the summet holidays before Harry’s sixth year. This isn't a stand-alone oneshot but an excerpt from an unpublished fic. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes.
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“And that’s how you catch a Quaffle, Ron.”
“Come on, one more round.”
“We really don’t want you to lose a seventh time.”
Overly confident, Y/N threw the Quaffle from one hand to the other, then passed it on to Harry, who was hovering ten feet away from her on his broom, grinning amusedly.
It was two days after they had gotten their O.W.L. results.
The air was buzzing with tiny, fluffy bumblebees and butterflies in iridescent colours, flying over the purple lavender bushes, wild blooming, deeply red corn roses, and a bed of catnip, which had become Crookshanks new favourite place to simply exist, slashing at bees from time to time. The orchard had dropped its overripe apples and plums into the high grown grass, making it a feast for wasps and the gnome family inhabiting the garden of the Burrow.
As the only one who did not play Quidditch, despite having been asked to join countless times, Hermione had created her own little oasis between a high grown beech tree and the door to the kitchen. She was sitting on a white and blue striped deckchair, her feet in a bucket full of cold water, an enormous, broad-brimmed straw hat on her head, and a thick novel her parents had sent her in her lap, occasionally leaning back and watching them play.
The sun was burning down on them; they had used up almost all of the sunscreen, and the heat-protection charm Mrs. Weasley had applied over the garden this morning was wearing off. The heat also brought out Y/N’s freckles, and if she had had red hair, she for sure would have passed as Ginny’s older sister. Y/N brushed a loose strand of hair that must’ve escaped out of her bun behind her ear.
It had grown over the last few weeks, now reaching past her collarbones and shimmering in a rich, warm brown tone. (Okay, maybe, she had used some magical shampoo to help the growing process before she had come to the Burrow for her summer stay, but that was a secret between her and her bathroom.)
“It’s not fair, I want to switch the teams up again,” Ginny complained. She had her arms placed on the stick of her broom, her red cheeks gleaming like round apples in the sun.
“We said we’d not switch teams within the day,” said Harry promptly, driving his hand through his hair. It had grown to a length where he could have pulled off a teeny ponytail on top of his head if he did not refuse so much to do so.
“Easy for you to say, you always get to pick Y/N while I’m left with this nutcase!” She said stubbornly.
She was right, though: It was usually Ron who got to pick his teammate first, and he exclusively chose Ginny, simply because she was the better player out of the girls.
“Blame Ron, not me,” He replied simply, still smiling. Harry definitely did not mind this rule at all, he had made it up after all.
“No, Ginny, look,” Ron said, trying to explain his seemingly brilliant tactic for the hundredth time, “you’re a good Chaser, I’m an excellent Keeper, it makes more sense that way. Technically, we should have a 100% chance to win all the –”
“You’re a rubbish Keeper! And they both got faster brooms –”
“I am not –”
“You are not playing well because you don’t have a prize to win at the end of the day,” interfered Hermione loudly, not looking up from her book. “You’ve got to play for something, like dessert.”
“More dessert sounds great,” Ron said, nodding. “I’m in.”
“You can’t just get more dessert when you win,” argued Y/N, “you always have more dessert than everyone else anyway.”   
“She’s right,” Harry agreed at once.
“Then we’ll do it this way,” Ginny began, “the team that loses has to give up half of their dessert and cannot refill.”
“Why only half?” Ron asked.
“Because if we lose, it’s you who’ll give his dessert to Harry and Y/N, not me.”
Once the rules were set, they began to play the seventh session of Quidditch this afternoon. To no one’s surprise, Ron suddenly put all his effort into the game; Harry only managed to score once while Ginny’s aims were always successful.
After an hour, the evening sun was hovering over the fields now, casting long shadows, and Mrs. Weasley called from the steps of the backyard door that dinner was ready, and they should come inside now to clean themselves up.
“Hey, mum,” said Ron loudly, “what’s for dessert today?”
“Bill has brought ice cream for everyone,” She informed them. “Now come inside, you lot can help setting the table for once!”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Y/N.
Ginny laughed, clutching the Quaffle underneath her left arm while high-fiving Ron with her right hand. Harry brushed his hair out of his forehead which was glinting from a thin layer of sweat.
“Now, I don’t care whose cup I’ll get,” said Ginny gloatingly as she flew back to the ground, “but if you haven’t decided until after dinner, I’ll just take the one that looks more delicious.
“We,” Ron reminded his sister, following her, “whose cup we will get. I didn’t play that well for nothing!”
Y/N turned her head to Harry, who was floating maybe three metres away from her, shielding her face with her hand against the bright sun and saying, “I’m not giving up my ice cream.”
“You didn’t hold any of Ginny’s aims,” he said, crossing his arms, leaning back. “It’s only fair if I get to keep mine.”   
“You scored once because Ron sneezed,” said Y/N. “That’s not screaming impressive Quidditch player to me either.”
“Still more of an accomplishment though.”
“You’re the boy, don’t you feel bad taking away the girl’s ice cream?”
“That’s a bit sexist, isn’t it?” He tilted his head.
“Okay, how about that,” she said. “Since this is all based on playing Quidditch, let’s say the one who caught a Snitch the most recently gets the ice cream.”
“Oh, come on, I was banned!”
“That’s a bit your own fault, isn’t it?” She grinned.
“The ground to this bet was this game and you’ve just got to admit that I was better than you.”
“Never,” She said, grinning. “But I’ve got to admit that whoever gets to the kitchen first can tell Ginny whose ice cream she gets to have, so…”
Y/N nosedived down to the steps leading into the house, tossed her broom to the ground, and darted up into the hallway with a surprising speed; nevertheless, because he was blessed with longer legs and a faster broom, Harry caught up with her in a matter of seconds. Slithering over the floorboards in his white socks, he threw his arms around her waist before she could reach the kitchen and, since Mr. Weasley had waxed the floor this morning, lost his balance and pulled her down with him.
Frightened for a moment, Y/N yelped loudly and closed her eyes, waiting for a painful collision with the floor – thankfully, Harry had somehow managed to land first, wherefore she ended up on his leg instead of the floor.
“Ow!” He sounded like he really was in pain. Y/N quickly scrambled up from the hallway.
“Sorry!” She said and held out her hand to help him up. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said, taking her hand. It wasn't as calloused as his, and for a split moment, a warmth travelled through his veins that made him exuberant. “Nothing some ice cream couldn’t fix...”
She immediately let go of him and he slipped back down onto his ass, grinning to himself nonetheless. A sensation flooded her stomach at the look he gave her, but she had to stand her ground.
“You can’t run properly and now I’m the one who has to give up their ice cream? You’re playing a treacherous and malicious game, Potter, and I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you’re losing.”
“I know none of the words you just used.” Ron had appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, hands in his pockets. “Hey, why are you on the floor, mate?”
“I...fell,” Harry said, holding his back, as Y/N squeezed past Ron into the kitchen where Bill was stowing dozens of different-flavoured ice cream cups into the fridge. Ginny was watching him but turned upon Y/N’s entrance.
“So, who’s giving up their ice cream?” She asked, smirking mischievously and clapping her hands together. 
“Harry,” answered Y/N promptly. 
“A true gentleman, or as I’d call it, a stupid boy giving up a very delicious dessert,” She said, “Bill, what did you bring Harry?”
Bill closed the door of the fridge. “Dark chocolate and mint chocolate chip. I feel like I’m missing an important part of the conversation.”
“We played Quidditch earlier,” Ginny explained, “Ron and I beat those blighters and we’re getting one of their ice creams.”
“What you’re forgetting to mention,” said Y/N, halfway up the stairs to change into a different shirt, “are the other six times you lost.”
As she got back downstairs, everyone else was already outside, settling around the wooden table loaded with steaming dinner, cooled butterbeer bottles, and a few glasses full of French red wine (a gift from Fleur’s parents). Mrs. Weasley was hurrying around the table, distributing the last missing forks and knives.
“Ron, where are the napkins I gave you? And – Merlin, Ginny, we haven’t even started yet; at least wait for your father, he should be here any time soon...ah, there he is!”
With a loud BANG, Mr. Weasley appeared at the garden gate, accompanied by another woman: brown hair and blue eyes, holding a paper bag in her hands.
“Mum!” Y/N ran past the table towards the garden gate. “I thought you were working.”
“Eileen Adler took over my shift, and when I visited your father at the Ministry, Arthur invited me to dinner,” she explained, pulling her daughter into a hug. “And before I forget; congratulations on your O.W.L. results. Your dad and I are so proud of you.” She kissed Y/N's forehead and then handed her the paper bag. “I got something for you and your friends for your good grades.”
“Thank you, mum.” She hurried back to the table to unpack the gift with the others.
“Thank you, Mrs. Parker,” the three chorused, leaning over her shoulder to glance into the bag which held some chocolate and new quills for all of them.
“It’s not much, I know,” Mum said, “but most shops have closed over the last weeks. Really, Diagon Alley is a desert compared to three years ago. Except for your sons’ shop, of course,” she said to Mrs. Weasley as she sat down next to Bill, “it’s flourishing –”
“Ah, no spoilers!” said Ron loudly, “we haven’t actually been there yet.”
The mood of dinner swayed from peaceful and happy to heavy and depressing more often than any of them would have liked to; Mr. Weasley and Bill, both working for the Ministry, brought home stories of disappearances, odd accidents, even of deaths now appearing almost daily in the Prophet. Y/N’s mother too knew of these as she often had to treat the ones who survived attacks of dark magic at St. Mungo’s.
An hour later, Ginny, Fleur, and Y/N helped to clean the table and bring the desserts outside. Fleur performed a spell so that the ice cream of the adults flew dainty out of the kitchen while theirs stayed behind. Ginny was having trouble coordinating how to carry the three cups for her and Ron.
“What are you doing?” asked Ginny as Y/N filled half of her ice cream into a small, separate bowl.
“I’m being nice.”
“Shit, you’re so weird. It’s because you’re an only child,” she said, and ate a spoon full of Harry’s ice. “What? Ron inhales desserts, I have to keep up,” she explained herself.
“You amaze me,” said Y/N as she carefully cradled the bowls in her arms and walked out into the garden.
Mrs. Weasley had magically doubled her ice cream so that Y/N's mother could enjoy one as well. Right, that would have been much easier and effective than what I had done, she thought. Anyway.
“Here, surprise.” Y/N hovered the bowl of ice cream in front of Harry’s face before placing it onto the table and sitting down next to him again. He groaned and held his stomach.
“I wouldn’t have eaten so much if I had known…”
“I’m devastated you didn’t consider me your most noble, devoted friend who would go to such length of kindness as to share their beloved ice cream.” One hand on her heart, Y/N pretended to look shocked. A grin tucked at the corners of his lips.
“I have to reconsider then,” he said and took the bowl.
“Merlin, you sound like you swallowed one of Hermione’s books lately,” said Ron, rolling his eyes and spooning the whipped strawberry cream from his ice onto Ginny’s.
“Just because you can’t spell words like ‘devastated’ –” Hermione shot back.
“I did actually read your copy of Pride and Prejudice,” said Y/N, trying to prevent another one of their bickerings.
Hermione beamed at her, nudging her arm with excitement seeing as most times, she had no one she could actually talk about these novels with. “Really? Did you like it?”
Harry watched them talking. Just last week, he’d dreamed of the incident at the changing rooms last school year instead of anything related to the Ministry, and whatever he’d felt back then, it had been multiplied by ten and ran over him like a tsunami every other hour, and it was only getting worse when he saw Y/N sitting on a broom in shorts and tops all the time.
He took every opportunity to look at her when it wouldn’t be suspicious to Ron while simultaneously hoping that the longing feeling in his chest would release him because he knew whatever he was hoping and dreaming for, it could only ever be this: A dream.
It was ridiculous to think that now that he had opened up about the prophecy and there was a great chance of him dying, Y/N would ever come close to reciprocating his feelings…
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cyborg-franky · 1 year
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Loved
Thank you @mourning-iris for your support and I hope I wrote your girl good! This was fuuuun <3
Ace x OC TW: Yandere vibes SFW WC: 1,100
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The kitchen was closed for the day, and most of the cleanup was done, which was why Ace was a little concerned. Vera wasn’t anywhere, he’d asked Thatch and other members of the fourth division but no one had seen where his girlfriend had snuck off to. Ace sighed and brushed a hand through his hair, stepping out onto the deck and staring out to sea.
He tried to ignore the unpleasant gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt the prickle of hot flames skirt across his shoulders as he narrowed his gaze into the distance. He hated to be apart from Vera for long, always there to collect them after her duties, wanting nothing more than to spend time with her.
The not knowing where she was picked at his insecurities. He balled his hands into fists and took a deep breath through his nose, filling his chest and letting it out. Calming himself, letting the worry of where she could be push aside the jealous feelings and thoughts of her spending time with someone else.
His shoulders tense but no longer glowing from embers of temper as he walked across the deck, following the string lights and lanterns that lit it up in the darkness of the evening. His boots clunked against the planks as he scanned across the deck. He sniffed the air, the smell of smoke filling his nose, the familiar scent catching his attention.
Following his nose, he turned the corner and saw Vera sitting on an empty crate. Her long wavy pink hair out of the messy bun she kept it all contained in while working in the kitchen. She puffed on the pipe and blew the plume of smoke into the air, her eyes looked glassy, and she’d been crying.
The same flames threatened to burn bright as his gut once again twisted as he sneered at the thought of someone making her cry. He would make whoever upset his girlfriend sorry, but he also knew how sensitive and delicate she could be, sometimes it didn’t take much to set her off.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked and walked over, climbing up on the crate with her, arms encircling her shoulders, his nose buried into the thick locks, taking a breath, His nose filled with the mixed smells of her shampoo and the kitchen. Like fresh pastries and flowers.
He didn’t budge, wanting to hold her close and calm his racing thoughts. Vera hummed when she heard his question, feeling heat rise to her cheeks as she did a quick look left and then right to make sure no one was around. She was so shy about showing how in love with Ace she was, easy to fluster and the crew being mostly older men, they liked to tease, playfully, but still.
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied and heard him grunt, the answer not good enough for him “Did someone say somethin’?” He asked, pressing the matter as he moved, looking at her, eyes roaming her body to look for any signs someone could have hurt her physically.
She shook her head and reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together as she smiled at him. “You know I get in my own head and I get upset,” Vera said with a shrug and leaned her head against Ace’s shoulder. Ace watched the pretty pink locks cascade down her chest, he couldn’t help himself, and with his free hand, he reached over and ran his fingers through the waves. She made a happy noise, closing her eyes.
“I’m good at my job, aren’t I?” She asked and Ace looked up. So that was what was getting at her, Ace was all too well acquainted with the demons of self-doubt and he sat up, he tilted her chin up to look at him, a soft smile on his face. “Babe, you are the best baker in that kitchen.” He said with such conviction that she couldn't help but blush, the colour brighter than her hair.
She would have buried her face in her hands if Ace wasn’t holding her chin and her hand. He leaned in and she closed her eyes, leaning up to meet his lips with hers. Feeling the soft kiss. The feather-light kisses left her lips and trailed to her cheeks.
Vera was blusher harder now, bright red when he’d finished laying kisses across her face, over the bridge of her nose. As soon as Ace had stopped she’d set down her pipe, forgotten in favor of the moment. He hopped off the crate and went to grab her waist to lift her down but she squirmed, taking his hands off her waist. 
“Ah sorry, “ Ace offered her his hand instead as she climbed off. 
Vera stood at the rails, Ace behind her, boxing her in, feeling him nuzzle her hair, his chest pressed against her back as he whispered sweet things. “You shouldn’t doubt yourself, ever. You are so talented, so pretty, perfect an’ I love you so much.” He said with a sigh, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“You need more confidence in yourself,” Ace added as he glanced up and across the ocean, enjoying being able to be this close to her. “You too Ace, you should listen to your own advice, your perfect to me, my sweet firefly.” Vera smiled when she felt Ace tense up, knowing he was trying to process the soft words, still getting used to being so unconditionally loved.
“Yeah… I’ll try if you do, deal?” He kissed her cheek. “Deal,”
Ace could feel her start to shiver, her body always ran cold, he warmed himself up, just enough to stop her from shaking like a leaf. He smiled, feeling a swell of pride that he could keep his girlfriend safe and happy. No one was better suited to her, he told himself over and over as he gripped the rails thinking about it. No way would she ever want someone else… right? 
Vera closed her eyes, sinking into his chest, his warmth, her hands trailing through her hair, calming her nerves, feeling better now. His words had soothed the ache in her heart and chased away the voices that wanted to take her down. 
“I love you, Ace,” She turned her face, looking at him through thick lashes. “I love you too sweetheart, more than anything,” and she knew he meant it with every fiber of his being. He kissed her again, wanting to feel Vera’s soft lips against his.
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belladoesmakeup · 2 months
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Hi guys,
Today we are chatting about hair, in particular my hair journey and why I went back to brunette from red.
When I was 17-22 (2010-2015) years old I loved colouring my hair with semi-permanent hair colours, at this time I was in my emo stage and of course had to have red / plum hair. My mum said I shouldn't use permanent dye at the time so I only used L'Oreal Casting Creme glosses and they had this gorgeous red colour I used all the time. Unfortunately they discontinued this shade so I stopped colouring my hair for a while and let my brunette colour come back. Though this took a while the colour eventually washed out and I didn't think about it again.
Skip along to 2020, we all know what happened that year and I was bored of my hair colour. Since I knew I was going to be at home for a while I decided to bite the bullet and go bright red! Unlike last time I committed to permanent hair colour which was scary but I knew I would be keeping the red for a long time. I used a Garnier dye called Warm Red and it was a very Hayley Williams hair colour. I loved the hair colour and felt so myself with this colour. I kept this hair colour for 3 years and during 2022 I decided my hair style needed a change so I added bangs! I blame Taylor Swift bringing out RED TV because this convinced me it was time to relive my bangs and fedora hat phase.
Finally in 2023 I grew out my fringe into a slightly awkward side fringe until it was finally long enough to pass off as (curtain) layers which was really cute for a while. I also decided the red hair was too much maintenance to keep up with so I started dying my hair dark brown. Now obviously what I should of done was strip the colour first and then use the brown hair on top but that's too easy so I coloured over it. Though it coloured most of the red I still had a tint of red coming through.
Since my hair was so dead I also cut a few inches off it and it turned into this cute dark brown long bob which I honestly loved! I also started using only brown hair dyes and tried to not colour my hair as often as I was before. When you have red hair you have to colour your hair every 5-6 weeks because of colour fade. Whereas with brown dye I can get away with it longer so it's every month and half to 2 months I colour my hair now since I have a few grey hairs now to cover. Cutting my hair was the best decision because my hair was much healthier and it also helped I was using hair masks to fix my dry, damaged hair.
Now in 2024 my hair has no more red tints going through it and it is so much healthier! I use a hair mask once a week, I wash my hair with Olaplex Detox shampoo once a week with a deep condition and it has made a drastic difference. So moral of the story by all means colour your hair however you want to but make sure you look after it otherwise you will end up with dried damage hair like me. Luckily I changed my hair habits before it's too late and now I love having more natural hair. I feel like now I'm 30 having dark brown hair feels a little more grown up and honestly kinda boosted my confidence a bit. It's ironic but when you've had funky hair colours for so long, a natural hair colour seems just as exciting to try again and they also cause less damage to your hair in the long run.
I would love to know what products you use to protect your hair so let me know in the comments.
Lot's of love,
Bella x x
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VIP Hair colour shampoo | Ammonia free hair dye for Unisex
VIP hair colour shampoo for men & women makes the greys disappear in 15 minutes. It's quick & convenient. This shampoo doesn't need brush, bowl or gloves. It can be applied to head, mustache, beard, chest, and hands. Vip hair colour shampoo is an ammonia-free shampoo that helps to strengthen your hair’s health and prevent damage.
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acapelladitty · 2 years
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This may be really really vague, but if it is please do whatever you want for it - I absolutely adore everything you write but ESPECIALLY when it has something to do with being in a relationship with eddie, whether this be SFW or NSFW i love domestic shit, (maybe even vanilla i might say - embarrassing ik) but sometimes i love nothing more than reading about eddie and reader being really soft with eachother. So basically what I’m asking is just for some good old domestic sfw and nsfw shit, real ooey gooey stuff, i need it to keep me going through revision!
This might make no sense but if it does I adore you bcos I love your writing and this would make my year <3
Please enjoy this short and sfw drabble involving sharing a bath with Edward 👀 and thank you very much for the lovely message!
Adjusting the warmed metal of the tap with the side of your arch, the gush of heated water is quickly reduced to a light trickle as you adjust your foot quickly back into its comfortable spot against the edge of his outstretched legs.
The bathtub was surprisingly large given the size of his tiny apartment but it had still proven to be a real struggle to fit both of the bodies which currently reclined within the cheap plastic in a manner which left both parties comfortable.
Your back was raised slightly against the end of the bathtub, legs spread wide to accommodate the larger body which lay flat between them as Edward used the opportunity to make contact with as much of your skin as possible.
His long body was barely suited to the bathtub at the best of times and, with your added mass, his legs were left sticking out over the edge as his six-foot frame enjoyed lounging against your chest. The tickle of his hair as it rests between your rounded breasts makes your nose twitch and you adjust his head gently to ease some of the irritation.
The faint sound of the radio filtering through from the open bathroom door is the only noise within the room aside from the faint rush of the tap as you both enjoy the moment of rare peace.
Slipping your hands up past his neck, your fingers sift through his wet hair, nails scratching at his roots gently, and the action draws a long sigh from his lips.
"I won't get used to it." He mutters quietly over the sound of the faint running water, eyes remaining gently closed as he speaks.
"To what?"
"To having someone put their hands on me without trying to hurt me."
A sad confession; one which you can see has shaped the man before you, from choirboy to monster, murderer to lover.
"Pass me the shampoo."
He did not appreciate pity and you wouldn't disgrace him with it, so a mild distraction is in order as he follows your instructions and passes the rounded bottle over his shoulder.
Squirting out a generous layer of the pearlescent liquid into your palm, the scent of cheap strawberry wafts gently from the lather as you apply it to his wettened hair; the naturally sandy colour appearing several shades darker due to the moisture.
A low rumble of satisfaction purrs from his chest as your fingers set to work pushing his hair back from his hairline as you massage the lather into his scalp. Every soft scrape of your nails across the crown of his skull draws a shiver from his body and you can see the gooseflesh of his skin as he leans into your touch almost desperately.
It is uncommon to see his expression so peaceful as his head lays flat against your chest and the relaxation of his features is typically reserved only for those fleeting minutes of fitful sleep before the nightmares take hold of him.
Such sweetness made it easy to forget the poison which lurked just below the surface.
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knockyasocksoff2022 · 3 months
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IDEALS [kunikidazai]
Ideal No. 8
(1,218 words)
As I walk back to the dorms, I review Kunikida’s list in my mind, thinking of how I can implement each one.
The Ideal Partner:
Peaceful - don’t joke or mess around
Quiet and calm - I should tone down my appearance as well, maybe wearing a few different pieces of clothing now and then would be worth the energy to impress Kunikida.
Down-to-earth - This one is easy I’m so down to earth I’m in HELL already
Long hair - Nothing much I can do about that right now, but I could grow my hair out. I’ve never liked hair maintenance though, so I’d probably look a mess, not like Kunikida. Maybe I could settle for just at my neck.
Confident and sure of themselves. —  I’ve always been sure of the way I look and faking the rest comes naturally.
Polite with good manners - Hmm, this should be easy enough as long as I stop joking about suicide and slifting with so many women (maybe if I stop flirting Kunikida will finally take a hint). I should also start using honorifics as well.
Likes to have long thoughtful, philosophical conversations - maybe I can skip this one, How am I supposed to talk about the meaning of life when I don’t think it has any. 
Cultural minded. - I’ve been to Europe a lot for Mafia missions, maybe I can impress Kunikida with my knowledge of Western culture.
Love travelling - My “cultural knowledge” will probably convince Kunikida of this one easily enough
Interested in languages. - I already know a few languages
Shares at least one of my passions - I can learn to cook.
Healthy - 
Trusting - 
I can skip the last two as well. There! That’s 10 of the thirteen I can do!
When I step back and look at it, I realise this entire plan is about manipulating Kunikida into thinking I’m a good person. I’m really such an awful person, aren’t I?
I shove down the acid rising in my throat and think of which ideal I can apply first. Peaceful, Quiet and calm, and Polite with good manners will be the easiest. I can change the way I speak and the way I present myself easily enough.
There’s a clothing store near the agency so I turn around and start heading that way.
-
I walk the aisles and scan the racks looking for things that I think Kunikida would deem respectable office clothes.
In the end, I settle for three new pairs of trousers, (a navy pair, a grey pair and a black pair) some, collard shirts (black, light and dark shades of grey and blue, and white) and jumpers (in the same colours plus, light, azure and dark blue and sandy brown.). I also pick out a pair of black loafers, almost the same as my brown ones.
As I check out I think that Yosano would be proud of me for my shopping spree. 
I pick up some shampoo and conditioner as well as new deodorant and toothpaste mouthwash from the corner shop. I’m sure none of the products are very high quality (nothing like what Kunikida must use to keep his hair that silky) but it will make my hair look a bit nicer, I’m sure than the two-in-one I use now. Maybe if I’m lucky, Kunikida will be close enough to me to smell the nice spearmint scent. 
Money isn’t an issue, as I still have most of my funds from my Port Mafia days and all my ADA paycheques because I don’t usually bother buying food or paying my aircon or heating bills. It’s a wonder someone hasn’t realised when looking at the costs of utilities for the dorms. Maybe they just don’t care? Would it matter?
-
Thankfully there’s a laundromat across the road from the dorms, so I put my clothes in and go back to my dorm to take a shower.
The dorms may not be five-star living conditions (especially not mine) but they have hot water (a utility I don’t mind paying for) and it feels like heaven after a long day. I stand under the water for a moment letting it ease the tension from my back then start working the shampoo through my hair. 
I haven’t used real shampoo in ages. The cool clean scent fills the shower and makes my eyes sting in a nice way.
-
My shower is taking much more time than usual because of the added steps of applying and rinsing out conditioner. Normally I hate showering for to long because it gives me the irresistible urge to drown myself, but taking the time for all this takes my attention and keeps me strangely grounded. It’s almost . . . relaxing.
-
My clothes should be almost done by now so I dress and go to retrieve them from the laundromat. There are dryers there and after a second of hesitation, I decide to go ahead and use one. (Didn’t Mori-san once mention something bout not drying jumpers?) The coins make a metallic plink as I drop them in the machine and return once again, to my dorm, damp jumpers in my arms, to brush my teeth.
As I walk I notice that all I can think about is brushing my teeth. Maybe being constantly in motion isn’t so bad if it can keep the other thoughts out, the voice that reminds me what a loser I am and that Kunikida will never be filled by new clothes because underneath I’m still the same rotten person and he’ll never want me. Maybe if I can always be moving around or doing something then I won’t think such annoying thoughts and end up saying such annoying things, even if all these tasks exhaust me.
-
The shirts and trousers are soft and warm when they come out of the dryer and 
-
The toothpaste and mouthwash burn against my tongue but I don’t mind. Having nothing else to do, I slip into sleep easily the exhaustion that’s been clouding my mind talking over.
I get a rare full night’s sleep but I’m still up before it’s truly light out.
Groaning, I force myself out of bed. 
Looking in the mirror I still as pale and sikckly as ever, sighing I comb my hair carefully, it still doesn’t lose its messy look but there isn’t much I can do about that. 
Next I brush my teeth (and use mouth wash), and then it’s time to pick what to wear.
After a moment of thought I settle on the light blue with the dark grey trousers and the dark blue jumper with the black shoes.
Next I’ll need to pack my lunch, but I haven’t fainest idea about cooking, so I’ll just get something from the supermarket on my way.
When I step outside the morning chill signature to Yokohama spring bites at my face and hands. I step back inside to grab the only other coat I have (the tan trench coat is dirty from being in the river.), a navy trench I got a present from Akiko on the first anniversary of me joining the agency.
-
With the coat on the walk is much easier, the fabric keeping the wind and cold off. I reach the agency quickly even with a detour to the supermarket to buy something for lunch.
Taking a deep breath I enter the familiar building.
I know Kunikida will be there, it’s now or never.
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tenjiiku · 2 years
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what’s in a heart?
haruchiyo sits in the tub, foam bubbles up to his chest. he dons a scowl on his lips. his once smooth bleach blond coloured hair is rough at the edges — in your hands — soaped and wet.
“your shoulders are tense,” you murmur, tilting his head so that his head rests somewhat in your lap — your sweats are soaked, “ease up.”
“my hair’s fuckin’ ruined.”
you hold back a laugh. this was a sensitive time for him, if you chuckled god knows what he’d do.
(probably would ignore you for a couple hours — end up showing you a funny video, forgetting he was supposed to be ignoring you — fall asleep a metre away from you on your bed, and end up wrapped around your frame like a koala in the morning.)
“i don’t know why you listened to him,” you sigh, scrubbing away at his scalp, “he showers, like, every four days.”
his lips fall flat, which is even worse than his scowl. you massage the crease he forms with his eyebrows with two fingers, in an attempt of eliciting a reaction of anything but indifference. it manages to work. he sends you a sharp glare, and you smile.
“come on,” you urge, “s’not that bad.”
“m’ literally gonna kill myself,” he looks at you right in the eyes as he says this, “then him.”
you think for a moment about what he just said. then you raise an eyebrow, confused.
“how would that—,”
“shuddap.”
the right side of your lip lifts up in an almost-smirk. you hum, continuing to massage the shampoo into his long locks. his hostility visibly decreases with each knead, and he willingly lays himself in your lap.
“it’ll be okay,” you sniff, lifting a hand from his hair to rub an itch on your nose with your wrist, “rukia-chan always uses this hair mask — after i rinse this shampoo out i’ll put it in your hair. it’ll be as smooth as a baby’s butt in 20 minutes.”
“i don’t wanna think of a baby’s butt,” he says, disgusted, “s’my hair.”
“alright,” you grin, “you’ll become beautiful again. that sound better?”
“20 minutes?”
“mhm.”
he seems to like the sound of that, and relaxes once more. this was the regularity of being around haruchiyo. much like the small waves he was creating in the water by moving his arm back and forth underneath, his mood swings were common — and welcomed, by you. reading him was not as easy as a book, but you appreciated the challenge.
he is pondering about something right now. his eyes always become somewhat blank-like when he is lost in his own train of thought. you do not press for his answer. instead, you continue with your ministrations — bringing him to a point of clarity.
the water stills.
“you like me a lot, don’t you?”
and so does he.
you huff a silent laugh at his odd question. staring down into his eyes, you notice that he is already watching you. very tentatively — for some reason, seriously.
“yes, haruchiyo,” you whisper, brushing his hair off of his forehead, “i like you a lot.”
his adam’s apple bobs. you grin fully now, displaying yourself fully and unabashedly in front of him. you take the small bath bucket resting on the mat, beside the stool you sit on and begin to rinse the soap out.
“i like you soooooo much!” you stretch out, brushing four fingers through his untangled wet locks, watching as the shampoo fills the tub.
he glares at you, “…shut up weirdo.”
the heat of the water is not quite hot enough to make his cheeks that shade of pink, though, you think. it makes you want to kiss him silly but, you resist. hair mask first, then pampering after.
you will keep that to yourself — a piece of him.
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prof-peach · 2 years
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What does Peach use to supplement her face blindness? Like for my I’ve noticed hair makes a big difference for me, shape color length etc., also glasses. Body shape, voice, choices in clothing, smell. Even potentially more specific things, like I can tell who in my immediate family is coming down the hallway or up/down stairs by the sound of their steps, the cadence and weight of the sounds.
Further, what identifies Grey or Plum in her mind? I imagine Grey’s size and Plum’s hair help a lot
Peach is highly audio and scent based, What you smell like, the sound of your voice, and how you move around will help her a lot. Some staff have old injuries, stiff knees, sore hips, some are younger and bounce around on their heels, some older who take their time doing things. The deodorants, perfumes and lotions people use helps a lot, or perhaps they have a scent that relates to their pokemon partner or job (eg. fire pokemon leave trainers smelling a little smokey normally, or perhaps they work in the greenhouses, each one has its own smell).
Some staff choose to wear very specific materials and colours they like, so that can be a handy indicator. They're required to wear one piece of Island uniform just to keep it clear to the public who can help if need be, so what they prefer and how they wear it is helpful. Some really dig the overalls for example, and only wear those to work, which helps Peach narrow down who's who from a quick glance.
Footfall, shoe type, the pokemon someone has around them, the tools they carry, the colours they like, all accumulate enough for her to make up for the lack of a face. Luckily her job is heavy on the observation front, she's gotta diagnose without words, so little details do not escape her when she's actively looking for them.
With regards to Grey, he's been around long enough that she's quite good at noticing him, its a combination of the aftershave he uses, a really earthy scent, sandalwood and spices, his build which is admittedly quite prominent, his clothes are familiar, she's done enough laundry to know the materials and patterns he picks, fabric feel stays with her, textures and such. His voice cuts through any doubt too. She knows him, more than anyone, so he's easy now.
As for Plum, luckily she usually has the ranger jacket on, thats a great aid, Peach is pretty sure some days she keeps it on her on purpose to help, throws it over her arm or shoulder when visiting, even if it's a little hot out for it. She uses a fancy shampoo, can't miss the smell. A quiet cheat however, Peach mixed up some essential oils from the garden and pokemon on the island, does it for the gift shop to sell in larger batches, but made a special blend for Plum, so she can tell her apart from anyone else without a shred of doubt. Changes with the season but she always makes one batch thats totally different to the ones sold at the docks, totally unique. She lies and says it's unwanted stock, so Plum doesn't notice she's soft. Should this fail, voice, body language and her pretty hard to miss hair colour all help out a lot.
A lot of the face blindness can be worked around, people are varied enough to have a million other things to pick up on. Theo for example never wears hoodies, is a great lover of flowy materials and sheer fabrics, and usually smells sweet, that coupled with the sound of her voice, and the hair from her woobat on her sleeve, peach knows. This goes for every member of staff. Each has a combination of traits that she does he best to remember. New staff usually get told she's a little bad at recognising faces, so they don't get offended if she hardly recognises them early on. peach keeps a cheat sheet in her desk draw, full of notes and information on each member of her team, so she can reference it when she gets a little lost.
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astra-galaxie · 9 months
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“Dammit, I knew that would come back to bite me….” - Kimberly Worthington
Biographical information
Full Name: Kimberly Worthington
Gender: Genderflux
Sexuality: Demisexual
Status: Alive
Age: 26
Birth: 1990
Race: Human
Nationality: American
Origin: Saint Paul, Minnesota
Residence: Saint Paul, Minnesota
Profession(s): Social Worker
Family:
Averly Worthington (cousin)
Unnamed brother
Profile
Height: 5'10" Age: 26 (season 3) Weight: 152lbs Eyes: green Blood: A-
Kimberly is a few inches taller and has darker skin than her cousin Averly, but the two have almost identical eye colours. Her blonde hair is styled into a pixie cut with lavender streaks, and she has a dark purple beanie on her head with three flower pins on the brim. She wears tight, ripped silver jeans, a purple tank top, a cropped black leather jacket with more pins on the chest, and bulky black boots.
As per her suspect appearance in Blackout Dead, it is known that Kimberly is allergic to peanuts, uses Indian soap, and has watched Jon & Terry.
Synopsis
Kimberly was a suspect in the murder of Bodhi Green. She is cousins with Averly Worthington and followed her to India after learning of Averly's interest in a rising "Guru." Kimberly couldn't believe that her cousin had been blinded by some "light" and was giving her money to a crazy guy in robes. She was sure that the Guru was a scammer and was going to prove it to Averly.
Unfortunately, Kimberly couldn't find the Guru. But she did find one of his most devoted followers, yoga enthusiast Bodhi Green. So, she decided to try and prove her theory by following Bodhi to get proof of his and the Guru's scheme. She stalked him for almost a week, but besides learning about how startlingly flexible the man was, Kimberly found nothing to prove that he was scamming people.
With her hopes of taking Averly home crushed, Kimberly planned to leave India empty-handed. But her trip would be delayed by Bodhi's murder. While she was proven innocent, she was disappointed that neither she nor the Bureau could prove Bodhi and the Guru were guilty of fraud.
Kimberly hopes the Bureau will have more luck convincing their teammate to stop following the Guru than she did with her cousin. She refused to believe that a flashing light could magically cleanse people. Now, she would leave that mission in the Bureau's hands. Meanwhile, she'll keep trying to convince Averly to come home before she gives away every last cent she owns.
Story Information
First appeared: Blackout Dead
Trivia
Her style is pastel-punk with flower accents
I thought her hair would be hard to do, but because of the hat, it was surprisingly easy!
She and Averly love going hiking and camping together
She once put glue in her brother's shampoo as revenge for him hogging the TV
Disclaimer: Character design was created using Rinmarugames Mega Anime Avatar Creator! I have only made minor edits to the design! Background courtesy of CriminalArtist5
Links to my stories:
The Case of the Criminal (Ao3/Wattpad) Killer Bay (Ao3/Wattpad) Where in the World are the Killers? (Ao3/Wattpad)
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phoenix3018writes · 1 year
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HOW TO USE LOREAL CASTING CREME GLOSS?
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I have been using the Loreal Paris Casting Crème Gloss Regular Ebony Black for quiet some time now and I wish to review about the same and show you guys how to use it in the most effective manner.
I have using hair color for decades now, and I have tried several brands available in the market and here is my honest viewpoint about this product.
I started using it after a recommendation from a good friend of mine and I thank her for it to this day. It is a no ammonia hair colorant that gives your hair visible shimmering tones, glossy shine and covers greys. It gives you a natural looking color with visible shimmering tones and a glossy shine. Gives you the richness of natural color that lasts up to 28 shampoos. Gentle, caring conditioner to provide nourished, satin soft, voluptuous hair. Easy, clean and pleasurable application with the non-drip crème formula in just 20 minutes, even for beginners. The delicate fragrance makes coloring a luxurious treat.
I personally love a no ammonia hair color and it leaves my hair smelling so good. People always compliment me and ask about what product do I use for my hair. The key element here is that it lasts up to 28 washes which is great because all my previous hair colors used to start washing off or fading after a couple washes!
HOW TO USE LOREAL CASTING CREME GLOSS?
Things you will need to color your hair:
Loreal Paris casting creme gloss
An old Tshirt or shawl
Hair coloring brush and comb
Things to remember:
The Casting Creme Gloss hair color contains the following inside the kit.
Developer Cream
Creme Colorant
Usage instructions pamphlet
A pair of gloves
2. As they provide a pair of gloves inside the pack itself you will not need a new one. However, make sure you are ready with any dark colored/old t shirt before you start the whole process. (To avoid staining)
3. If you are going for an even color all over, its easy to get great results at home too. You don’t need help from anyone!
4. Do a patch test before 48 hours. I did and I was fine with it. The new range is free from ammonia and hence its not going to harm you.
5. Last but not the least — before starting, DO read the instructions without fail. It is the very important step before you color your hair!
You can check out more details on :
You can surely mention your experience in the comments.
HAPPY STYLING!
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