#before i loc’d my hair

[hyperius--blake]

📷: @aja-joi-photo

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine Prt 5

Was this all a dream?

“Wake up.”

Her eyes shot open and a blinding light almost burned through her retina like a magnifying glass to an ant. She shut her eyes tightly, opening them again only this time the light had been replaced with a face you’d love to wake up to every single day. 

Only this face was the face of an unhinged, sadistic murderer with deep-seated obsessive-compulsive personality disorder. So, naturally, Y/N wanted to scream. She wanted to kick and scream. But for some reason, her throat felt as if she’d swallowed glass. Her limbs were bound to a flatbed with no support and it was bone-chilling cold.

Her dry tongue tried to bring moisture to her dehydrated lips but there was no use. The feeling began to over power her limbs. Why does it feel like she’d been running on rocks? She couldn’t wiggle her toes. Why is there cushioning lining the walls? Why is everything so stark white? Why does the door remind her of a prison? 

Still trying to gain her motor skills, Y/N tried moving her head from left to right. She allowed her tired eyes to scan her body as best as she could. Thick leather restraints and rusty buckles kept her imprisoned to the bed. She could taste the fear on her tongue and it was far from pleasant. 

“Hello, Y/N,” a smooth baritone filled her ears, “You’ve been out for a while now. Glad to have you back with us.”

She refused to speak. Who are they? 

“You’ve created quite the ruckus this time around. Had I not saved you from what would have been your death, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

She could feel hot tears pricking her eyes. 

“We had to put you out. Heavily sedate you. I usually don’t agree to this, but you somehow got your hands on a knife from the kitchens. Sadly, I couldn’t help you out of this one. Not when you almost killed me…”

The sound of his dress shoes click-clacked across the polished floor. He seemed to pace back and forth. Y/N kept her eyes on the padded wall. She thought she’d escaped his wrath. She wondered if her sister made it out safely. After everything April had gone through, she deserved to live. As for Y/N, she was the dumb bitch who fell in love with a psycho. 

“Y/N? What are you thinking about?” He questioned with a patient voice.

She couldn’t find it in her to speak. 

“One way or another, you’ll have to talk to me. Even if that means you’ll be tied to this bed.”

He approached her side with slow strides and reached out to stroke her hair back from her face. He then used his knuckle to wipe away her tears before quickly moving his hand away when he realized what he was doing. 

“I care so much about your well-being because I have such a soft spot for you, Y/N. I know I shouldn’t say things like that…but I’ve grown fond of you as my patient.” 

Patient?

Y/N turned her head quickly to look at him. To make sure she’d heard him exactly. She somehow missed the hospital band with the number 67 on it and her name. 

“What?” 

Her voice was cracking. 

“What do you mean patient?”

Drinking him in, he’s wearing a white button down shirt, black slacks with a black belt, and polished black dress shoes. Gold-rimmed specs decorated his obsidian eyes and his hair is loc’d with a crisp tapered fade. A navy blue lanyard hung from his sturdy neck and a laminated badge attached to it. She studied the badge very closely. 

Dr. N’Jadaka Stevens

Dr. N’Jadaka Stevens

Dr. N’Jadaka Stevens

She couldn’t believe it. This can’t be true. A Doctor?

He had a pleasant smile in the picture on the badge. It’s slightly faded and his hair was styled in a kinky fro. 

“We’ve been through this many times before, Y/N,” He took a seat at the foot of the bed, “yes, you are a patient here at Gateway. You’ve been a patient here for over a year now.”

“Wha—no–this–no–no I–I’m not a patient.”

“Hm,” His eyes became sorrowful, “this is the deepest delusion episode you’ve had since being admitted.”

“Delusion?” Y/N squinted her eyes with confusion, “Are you trying to say I’m crazy?”

“No, no,” Erik shakes his head, “You suffer from delusional disorder. It’s what you’ve been diagnosed with.”

“I’m delusional?! Me?! After the way you’ve acted?!”

Erik adjusted his glasses as he stared at Y/N with no emotion. 

“What is this? Another sick game of yours?! Where the fuck am I?!”

A hard knock to the door caused Y/N to jump. 

“Everything is good,” He shouted towards the door. 

A burly man turned his back away from the small panel of glass in the door. 

“What is this place, Erik?” 

“Gateway.”

“This where you keep all of your victims before you murder them?!” Y/N snapped.

He smirked, “No, Y/N, I’m not the psychopath you think I am. Maybe that’s how you see it in your altered reality, but I’m just your psychiatrist.”

Y/N laughed maniacally. 

“Okay! You’ve won! Now let me go!!!”

He stood from the bed. Y/N began to kick and writhe. The bed was mounted to the floor with bolts specifically for this reason. She started becoming light headed from her dehydration and the urge to vomit overcame her. 

“I FUCKING HATE YOU!” She screamed.

“You hate the fantasy you’ve created in your mind. To you, I’m Erik, The one that held you captive, kidnapped your sister, murdered her boyfriend, murdered your ex—”

“YOU DID ALL OF THOSE THINGS! So what is this?! Are you really some twisted doctor?! What are you going to do now, torture me until I beg you to kill me?!!!”

He turned his back on her. He removed his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. He couldn’t keep up with the amount of times this has happened. It always ends in this very room. 

“But, would you even do it? Would you do it when I’m pregnant with your baby, Erik? If you kill me, you kill the one link to you. All of those lies about how you would never hurt me,” Y/N broke down crying between sentences, “You lied to me. You don’t love me, you don’t love anyone or anything. You’re not capable of love. All you know is death and heartbreak. You’re fucking crazy. You’re the one that should be tied to this bed, not me. I wish I never fucking met you.”

N’Jadaka shut his eyes slowly. Y/N’s words stung. He knew that she wasn’t well, but why did her made up world hurt his feelings so much? No one can see or know how that made him feel. He’d lose his job and never see her again. 

“Y/N, I’m going to show you something,” He finally turned to look at her, his face expressionless, “This is your file. Your patient file. Everything within this manila folder is between you and I. It’s worn out  because I’ve shown you this file many times before. This is the only solution to your episodes. Showing you proof that THIS is the reality you are in…”

N’Jadaka took long strides towards Y/N. Her chest heaved up and down rapidly as if she were chasing her own breath. He opened the file and held it above her head so that she could read it. The first page was her information, including her diagnosis. Delusion Disorder. She squinted to focus and when the words seemed to connect, her eyes scanned the page. Her brows creased with worry and her lower lip trembled. 

N’Jadaka flipped the page. Now, she was seeing her criminal profile. It was a crime of insanity. Not guilty by reason of insanity. Remaining confined to Gateway. A double homicide. Y/N’s eyelids fluttered and a fresh swell of tears rolled into her hairline. N’Jadaka couldn’t bear the look on her face each and every time. 

“April…Darrell…no…no…I wouldn’t have…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N…”

“This—you made this up. You typed this up to make me look crazy—”

“You murdered your sister and your fiancé in cold blood. You can’t remember any of it because you were having an episode. You blacked out and woke up in handcuffs. This happened almost two years ago, Y/N.”

“No…”

“You’ve been admitted to Gateway Mental Hospital as an inmate and you were assigned to be my patient.”

“This…what is…no…”

She could feel the blood rushing to her head. Her eyes darted back and forth. Visions of blood and the sound of pleads and cries pierced her ears. 

Slash!

Slash!

Slash!

Y/N no! Please, please, I’m so sorry! 

Y/N!!!! Don’t do this!!!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

Slash!

Slash!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Splatter splatter splatter

I—I’ll always love you…

_________________________

“Time to wake up.” 

Y/N could hear a voice…a sonorous voice. She stood up on wobbling legs and covered her ears. Y/N stumbled and hit the padded white wall behind her. Only one light soaring high above her illuminated the room. She turned to press her face into the soft yet firm wall to hide her eyes. She felt like a vampire. 

She woke up from a dream. She was caressing her pregnant belly while sitting on the beach in the sand. She was alone and there was a sunset. She couldn’t see the man that had her sitting between his legs with her head resting against his chest, but she could see his bloody hands with deep slashes palming her belly. 

Both hands were covered in tattoos. It looked like a scripture with faded ink. Squeezing her eyes tightly, a sharp pain in her temple had her keeled over in pain. She was having a migraine. Y/N was exposed from behind, the curve of her nude cheeks and the smooth dip in her spine on display for whoever could see. 

“Y/N, this is Dr. Stevens. I’m at the door. Please, don’t fight today.”

A loud buzzer sounded off and she leaped away from the padded wall. Dark circles beneath her eyes, Y/N studied the heavy door. It opened and in walked Dr. Stevens with a tray of food. Behind him were two men wearing all white from head to toe. They had disgusted looks on their faces. Maybe that was a disguise, because Y/N could see past the pure hate in their eyes and sense desire. She wanted to rip their eyes out and feed it to them. 

There is a table next to her bed mounted to the floor and Dr. Stevens placed the tray of food there. Y/N cut her eyes to the tray to see what it was. Her stomach rumbled then.

“Turkey and cheese. Apple juice. And a fruit cup.”

Y/N slowly looked up at Dr. Stevens. He was dressed in another white button down shirt again but this time he wore khakis that hugged his tight ass and strapping thighs. Brown loafers on his feet and a gold Rolex completed the look. His gold-rimmed specs were in his shirt pocket again. 

“You haven’t eaten in 24 hours,” N’Jadaka turned to the men, “Go ahead, unchain her.”

The two guards gave each other a look before they both approached her. One man yanked the long chain connected to the cuffs on her wrists while the other crouched down to take the ankle cuff off. Y/N looked down at him with a burning desire to knee him in the face. He could feel her staring, so he looked up and glared at her. 

“Whatchu lookin at, girl?” 

His face was red with anger. 

“Stop looking up my gown.” Y/N warned him.

He chuckled darkly, “you wish I was looking up your gown you crazy bitch—”

“Watch your mouth,” N’Jadaka shoved the guard, “Time to go.” 

The guard got into N’Jadaka’s face. N’Jadaka stared at him with amusement with his hands folded in front of him and his feet wide. 

“You gon’ hit me? Do it. I can have your ass fired in a heartbeat. I know how much of a dirty mother fucker you are. Did you think I forgot?”

The guard's face turned purple.

“Now, I suggest you get out of here. And don’t let me find out you’ve been harassing the female patients again.” N’Jadaka said.

He twisted his lips and clenched his fists but instead of making matters worse for himself, he stormed off leaving the other guard behind. They shut the door with a slam and N’Jadaka looked to the ceiling to calm himself. Every day he has to remind himself that he is a professional and this isn’t the time or place to get into an altercation. He’d already been warned many times in the past and it almost cost his license. 

“Sorry about that,” N’Jadaka exhaled slowly, “I can get a little…why don’t you sit down and eat, Y/N?”

She watched N’Jadaka sit on the bed. 

“Come on, sit.”

Y/N finally took a seat in front of the table. She pulled the tray closer to her with her finger tips. Picking up the sandwich, she slowly took a bite and began mashing it with her teeth. She could feel her teeth chattering as if she were cold. Her leg bounced with nerves and she could feel tears cascading down her cheeks.

“Good?” N’Jadaka questioned.

Y/N simply nodded her head.

“Is today better than yesterday?”

Y/N wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. She swallowed her food down before speaking.

“What happened to my baby?”

N’Jadaka paused. He leaned forward onto his knees with his elbows before locking eyes with her again.

“…you’re baby never made it, Y/N. You had a miscarriage.”

Y/N touched her belly gently. Her fingers gripped the gown tightly. Now she was bent over wailing into her food. Her tears soaked the bread of her lunch meat sandwich. N’Jadaka watched her cry, his fingers itching to comfort her. Pull her into an embrace. But, he knew he was being watched. The only place he couldn’t be watched was his own office. But Y/N didn’t have outside privileges for another month. 

“I—I just don’t understand any of this shit,” Y/N sniffled, “Why would I kill them? I loved my sister. I—”

“The knowledge of the affair broke you. What you didn’t know, and what your mother failed to tell you, was that your father suffered from the same thing. He had obsessive-compulsive personality disorder and he suffered from delusions. It got so bad that he jumped out of a window to his death. When you started showing signs of the same thing, your mother kept it from you. She felt ashamed to get you the help you needed.”

Y/N couldn’t tell her reality from fantasy anymore. She felt like she was living a lie. 

“April and Darrell didn’t deserve what happened to them, but that doesn’t make you a bad person, Y/N. You’re just ill. I’m here to help you work through that. You’re one of the most difficult patients I’ve ever had but that’s what I love about my job. I will never give up. I’ll find a solution.”

Y/N fidgets with the hem of her gown. The hard metal chair beneath her naked butt made her feel numb. She badly wanted to see her sister. Not bloodied and slaughtered, but smiling and full of life. Memories of Darell made her aware of her delusions at times. She hadn’t met Erik at a poetry reading, it was Darrell. The home on the beach belonged to him as well but there was no glass chamber, sound proof walls, and cuffs to the bed. So why had she replaced Darrell with Dr. Stevens?

“I am a bad person. I killed my sister and my fiancé because I found out they’d been fucking. Cut off the engagement, sure, disown my sister, sure, but murder them in cold blood like I did?”

Y/N pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes to stop herself from crying.

“These cuts on my hands…are from the knife…I used to kill them…”

“Y/N. Breathe. Remember the exercise I taught you. Breathe in and hold for five seconds then release.” 

Y/N did the exercise a few times. 

“It  must feel very frightening to have these nightmares. To have these delusions.” N’Jadaka said.

“…why do I keep seeing you in my delusions as the monster when I’m the monster?”

N’Jadaka stands to pace back and forth in front of her. This was something he did often.

“…Sometimes a person with delusions will treat others as though they are someone else. It’s a reaction to the delusions. It’s a type of delusion called persecutory delusion. It’s when you have a belief of harassment or persecution. It also plays into your OCP.”

Y/N clung onto every word.

“…you’ve somehow decided to see me as the villain because I represent your current life. Your life is confined to these walls,” N’Jadaka placed his hands in his pockets, “you see my face everyday. You speak to me everyday. It shows that you are trying to fight your way through your recent struggles, but also you’re…”

N’Jadaka halted his footsteps. He stopped speaking mid sentence and blinked his eyes rapidly, as if he were remembering where he was. 

“I’m what?” Y/N questioned. 

N’Jadaka looked over his shoulder at the door and then he glanced over at Y/N. He struggled with what he wanted to say, but ultimately, he decided to keep it to himself. For now.

“I think we can end this session for today. I’m going to discuss with the hire-ups about resuming your personal sessions. I feel that with many eyes on us, no matter if they can’t hear, it doesn’t make this personal. Private. Do you understand?”

Y/N stared at N’Jadaka with a bewildered expression. 

“I’m sorry,” N’Jadaka glanced down at his watch, “I have to go for now, it was nice talking to you today.” 

He walked away and knocked on the door. The loud buzzer sounded off again and the door opened. Dr. Stevens left without a backwards glance and the door shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone to her thoughts.

______________________

Curls tangled, nails cut short, and skin dry.

Y/N was in the showers for the first time in a long time. She’s now back in her old room that had normal walls, a softer bed, and better lighting. She has all of the things she enjoyed from puzzles, books, and stress balls to warm sheets. She returned to the circle room that reminded her of a large sunroom where she could do a myriad of activities and even play games with the other patients. All supervised of course. The soft carpet with colorful shapes would feel so good compared to the hard floors in her room and those cozy socks with the sticky bottom would keep her warm and cozy on colder nights.

She was able to comb her hair out, pull it into a messy bun, and she was able to apply lotion to her body. All supervised. Despite looking like the undead with dark circles under her eyes, Y/N felt better. She wondered if they would ever get tired of putting her away for a month in the padded room. She can’t control her delusions. They know this. Y/N walked into the circle room accompanied by two guards and found an empty table near a window. She said hello to some of the patients that she recognized and found herself a puzzle to complete.

Now that she was living her reality, she felt so alone. No family, no friends, no fiancé, no baby. She was going to die alone and crazy. She mustered the little strength left within her to fight back tears. The only person who understood her was Dr. Stevens and she hadn’t seen him in three days. He’s always patient and understanding with her, even when she’s accusing him of being a psycho. Y/N wouldn’t admit it to him, but there was a part of her that couldn’t stop reliving the delusions because she enjoyed the way he made her feel. 

He was attentive, affectionate, and assertive. The sex was amazing. While she sorted through her puzzle pieces, the thought of sex with Dr. Stevens had Y/N squirming in her seat. He would never think of her that way. A murderer who’s crazy? Nah. He probably has a loving family of his own. Probably leaves this hospital every night to go home to a home cooked meal, a hot shower, and wet pussy. He probably kisses his children good night and tucks them in like the good daddy he is. 

The way he defended her and the glint in his eye and the rasp of his voice turned her on something vicious. She’d have thrown herself at him if it wasn’t for her current predicament. She desperately wanted to know what he’d wanted to say to her. Where is he?

Y/N looked up to see the nurses entering. They were bringing around snacks and their second round of meds. Y/N rolled her brown eyes and returned to her puzzle. One of the nurses finally came around and Y/N never put up a fight. She accepted her lorna doone cookies and orange juice. She took her antipsychotics in front of the nurse and washed it down with a small cup of water. She would have to speak to Dr. Stevens about them upping her dosage.

Thirty minutes into her puzzle and loud thunder brought her attention to the window. All the other patients seemed to gravitate towards the windows as well. Y/N closed her eyes and imagined herself dancing in the rain. Gown soaked, the smell in the air, the breeze blowing her curls into her face.

“I enjoy a rainy day myself.”

Y/N turned to see Dr. Stevens. He’s wearing a black long sleeve fitted sweater and dark blue jeans with black dress boots. His badge is clipped to his hip this time and he replaced his gold-rimmed specs with Calvin Klein frames. It must be a casual Friday for the doctors today. 

“Where have you been?” Y/N asked. 

“I took some time off. Another puzzle?”

N’Jadaka made himself comfortable in the seat across from her. He picked up the box to see what the picture looked like since Y/N wasn’t finished. 

“The Disney castle. Cinderella’s castle?”

“Yes…you took time off to do what?”

Dr.Stevens placed the box back down and cut his eyes to Y/N. She clenched her thighs shut.

“To see other patients. You’re not the only patient I treat, Y/N.”

Y/N tilted her head at him.

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Y/N leaned into the table with her elbows, making herself closer to Dr. Stevens.

“I thought that I was the most difficult patient you’ve ever had?”

N’Jadaka picked up a puzzle piece, “yes. But I have to put in time with other patients as well.”

“I don’t like it,” Y/N cleared the table and placed the puzzle box at the end of the table, “what if I have another episode? I almost killed you, remember?”

“Breathe,” Dr. Stevens spoke with a hushed tone, “After dinner you will resume sessions with me in my office. Don’t worry, we can talk for an entire two hours about anything.”

“…and you’ll tell me what you wanted to say the last time but couldn’t?”

N’Jadaka lowered his gaze to his hands and his mouth twitched slightly. 

“Breathe,” Y/N smirked.

“I have to go. Finish your puzzle. It keeps you focused.”

N’Jadaka rose from his seat and took one final look at Y/N before walking away and out of the circle room. 

__________________________

Y/N adjusted the oversized heather gray pullover she had on that matched the sweatpants covering her lower half. The guard that had the chain to her cuffs stopped in front of Dr. Stevens’ office door. He knocked twice and she became jittery. The guard, Anthony is his name, looked down at her with annoyance. Y/N couldn’t recall the last session she had with him in his office, but she were nervous. No cameras. Just him and her.

“Thank you.” 

Released, Y/N walks into the office and Dr. Stevens shuts the door behind her. Everything about Dr. Stevens' office screamed welcoming. The soothing colors surrounding her promoted a sense of calm and relaxation. The artwork on the walls told Y/N a little something about him. Art of the African diaspora. As her eyes scanned the walls, she came across the tribal mask she’d seen many times in her delusions. The mask Erik had worn the night he gunned down the kind man behind the club. 

Plants decorated window sills, comfortable seating whether on the floor or a chair, and nothing distracting and triggering crowded the space. It smelled clean, and it felt like home. Y/N took a seat on a tufted dark gray chaise and propped her legs up. 

“Welcome back, Y/N.”

“Feels good to be back,” Y/N pulled on the sleeves of her sweater anxiously.

“How was your day?” N’Jadaka asked.

“Better than I thought. I didn’t have a nightmare last night.”

“Oh? That’s good to hear, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”

“Ha,” Y/N shook her head bashfully, “don’t say things like that.”

“That I’m proud of you?” N’Jadaka questioned.

“What is there to be proud of?”

“You’re improving.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why’s that?”

“Why’s that?” Y/N echoed, “Well, I’m still having episodes.”

“Fewer episodes. You’re getting better.” N’Jadaka clarified.

“I’ll feel better when it stops.”

N’Jadaka crossed his arms over his chest.

“You keep having these delusions so frequently because something is triggering it.” 

Y/N creases her brows. 

“Elaborate.”

“Let’s see,” N’Jadaka rolled up his sleeves and took a seat in front of Y/N on an ottoman, “You have these delusions because you still haven’t forgiven yourself for what happened. You want to blame everyone else around you instead of accepting what happened as truth. That’s one part of it. Another part is…your desire for me.”

Y/N leisurely looked up at N’Jadaka. They stayed that way for a moment, just staring at each other, never turning away. Y/N’s eyes welled with tears and she took her sweater to wipe her eyes.

“Is it that obvious?” She said between sniffing, “Am I really that messed up?”

“I never implied that,” N’Jadaka smoothed his hands down his face, “Desiring me doesn’t make you messed up.”

“Why do you give a fuck?” Y/N sassed.

“I’m supposed to—I’m your doctor—”

“N’Jadaka,” Y/N spoke softly, “Tell me how to get over you.”

N’Jadaka nibbled on his bottom lip. He shook his head and stood up from the ottoman. Why was he struggling with this? Having feelings for your patient? That’s completely inappropriate. 

He had to come up with a response that was the complete opposite of what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t want her to get over him. He desires her just as much as she does him.

“…I keep thinking about the way Erik made me feel,” Y/N was staring off into the corner, lost in her words, “He has his demons, and he is a sadistic person, but he did it all for me. I was his world. He loved me and made love to me. And while I’m having sex with Erik in my delusions, it’s your face that I see.”

“…I told you why that is, Y/N, and why you have to let go. Every bit of information I’ve given you isn’t to steer you wrong. I can’t begin to imagine the struggle—”

“Ain’t no breathing or meds or forgiveness gonna stop me from wanting you, Erik.”

N’Jadaka locked eyes with Y/N. 

“I’m not Erik, my name is N’Jadaka. And you refer to me as Dr. Stevens.” N’Jadaka reminded her with a stern voice. 

“How long will it take for you to admit your feelings for me? Hm?”  Y/N threw her legs over the side of the chaise, standing up, “This back and forth is getting old. You said that we could talk about anything, right? Let’s talk about Erik.”

“Fine. Fine.”

N’Jadaka motioned for Y/N to have a seat. She didn’t recline back this time. Her back is ram-rod straight and she’s staring across at N’Jadaka like she wanted to eat him alive. He kept the connection going, watching her closely. 

“I thought you said that you hated Erik?”

Y/N pondered.

“I hate the way he makes me feel. He makes me feel helpless and complete at the same time. It’s scary. Like…being here kind of does.”

“Helpless and complete. Helpless in the fact that you can’t do anything about being here and complete…I’m going to be honest, what exactly makes you feel complete about your life now?”

Y/N stroked hair out of her face, “when I’m by myself…in my head…I feel…I feel alone. When I’m with you…I feel better. The hole in my chest fills up again.”

N’Jadaka’s jaw clenched. 

“Yes, you’re Erik in my delusions, but you’re Dr. Stevens in my reality. It keeps me balanced.”

_________________________________

When N’Jadaka had first laid eyes on Y/N, he could see how broken she was. He has all kinds of patients with many behavioral disorders. Sociopaths, PTSD, obsessive compulsions, phobias. And yet, when he’d seen Y/N and learned of what she’d done after reading her patient profile, N’Jakada could see that she was different. Her case of delusions was something beyond what N’Jadaka had ever imagined. 

To Y/N, her  psychiatrist knows her inner thoughts and feelings better than anyone. She can say anything to him and he doesn't judge her, but only seems to understand her better. She feels safe and comforted whenever she sees him. He knows just when to hand her a tissue when she's about to cry, and they share laughs together because her sense of humor is so like his. She finds herself looking forward to sessions and even wondering what to wear. She daydreams about him and wonders if he feels the same special connection to her. Perhaps she's become his favorite patient.

“…These are typical experiences of what occurs in many forms of psychotherapy that focus on exploring and understanding the patient's inner psychological life known as transference. It means that the patient is transferring feelings she has toward a parent or authority figure, onto the therapist…”

“…Erik is like an authority figure to you. He controls you. He keeps you handcuffed to his bed and you can never leave that beach house. He’s overprotective. Dominant. Unhinged. I’m hoping, Y/N, that you’ll gain some insight into your distortions onto other relationships in your life. With my help, you can come to grips with this pattern, put your distortions into perspective and move on with your life.” 

N’Jadaka tapped the pin in his hand against his notepad. Y/N sat wringing her hands, a nervous energy surrounding her. Maybe he was right. Maybe she didn’t actually love N’Jadaka. 

“I’m going to put you under,” N’Jadaka stood up and walked over to Y/N, “I want you to lay back and prop your feet up for me…good…now, close your eyes…that’s it…now, listen to the sound of my voice…”

Erik stood behind her while she reclined on the chaise. Her fingers are clasped over her abdomen and she looks like a sleeping beauty. He studied the contours of her beautiful features–more so her lips, and then he cleared his thoughts to speak.

“You’re at the luxury beach house. You can sense that the morning is approaching. As your eyes peel open, you scan the room and reality hits you. You’re cuffed to the bed once again…what have you done this time to upset Erik?”

Below him, Y/N’s breathing increases. Her face is contorted with fear and she brings her arms above her head to mimic the position that Erik has her in. 

“You can hear him coming into the room from the bathroom…what does he look like to you?”

Y/N licks her lips, “He–he’s naked.”

“Naked?” N’Jadaka’s eyes drop down to stare at her, “why is he naked?”

“I…I can smell the YSL body oil he puts on after he showers. It’s sweet yet…woodsy.”

N’Jadaka uses YSL body oil. He makes a mental note of that detail.

“So he’s taken a shower? What happens next?”

Y/N’s eyelids move rapidly. 

“He crawls on top of me..I scream…he covers my mouth…”

Y/N folds her lips into her mouth to mimic Erik’s hand covering her.

“He says…don’t scream…I won’t hurt you…I love you.”

“Do you believe him?” N’Jadaka questioned.

Y/N arched her back, thrusting her chest towards N’Jadaka. His eyes scan her body, wondering what is happening now.”

“What’s happening, Y/N? What is Erik doing to you?”

“H–he’s sucking my nipples.”

N’Jadaka arched a single brow, “So, you’re naked as well?”

“Yes,” Y/N exhaled, “He prefers me naked so that I’m ready for him.”

“Hm,” N’Jadaka grips the edge of the chaise, “Why do you keep giving into him?”

“Because he’s so addictive. No matter what he does…oh!”

N’Jadaka walks around the chaise, staring down at Y/N. He could feel his heart racing in his chest.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“Yessss,” Y/N raised her legs and spread them open, “Mmmm…just like that…”

“You seem to be enjoying Erik’s pleasures,” N’Jadaka didn’t move when her foot touched his chest. 

“Erik…why do you make me feel the way you do?”

N’Jadaka parted his lips but no words came out. Y/N’s sock covered foot smoothed down his chest until it was on his crotch. N’Jadaka inhaled, his fists tightly clenched as Y/N started massaging his erection with her foot. He couldn’t believe how hard he was. She would use her toes to rub the print of his tip and then she would slowly drag her foot up his shaft. He could feel himself throbbing and it ached him. 

“Time to wake up, Y/N.”

To his disappointment, her foot dropped, but the throbbing didn’t stop. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. N’Jadaka took a seat on the ottoman to try and hide his stiffness when Y/N sat up. Her curly hair was wild and the sweater she was wearing was hanging from her left shoulder. 

“You want to remain in these delusions because of Erik. I…I think it’s because of me and…maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Y/N said.

“Maybe it’s best that I stop being your psychiatrist. I feel that I am a trigger for you.”

Y/N was taken aback. 

“Where the fuck is this even coming from?” Y/N argues. 

“Watch your language,” N’Jadaka stood up, “I want you to get better. In order to do that, I have to make this sacrifice. I don’t want to—”

“Then don’t.” 

N’Jadaka looked at her, “It would be for the best—”

“For you? Or for me? Who are we really talking about right now?”

N’Jadaka sighed, “For the both of us.”

“Explain!” Y/N commanded.

“Lower…your…voice.”

N’Jadaka turned his back on her. The silence between them stretched on but the storm raging outside matched their inner turmoil. 

“Or what?” 

N’Jadaka placed his pad and pen on his desk. Y/N’s eyes scanned from his sturdy back all the way down to his legs. His arms are covered in bulging veins from his fists being clenched. 

“This stays between me and you.”

He turns, removing his glasses. He didn’t look away from her as he folded his frames before placing them on the desk. Y/N held her breath.

“I’ve grown to have feelings for you, Y/N. Feelings that I know I shouldn’t have. I try every time to–to be professional when it comes to you…but I can’t. I’ve become obsessed.”

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“…And I know that I shouldn’t. Which is why we have to stop these sessions. There is another great psychiatrist here, Dr. Jane—”

“No. I refuse to see that bitch.”

“You know who she is?” 

“Yeah, and I don’t like her. I like you. So no. You’ll just have to fight the urges.”

N’Jadaka stroked his chin, “And will you?”

Y/N turned away from him and looked out of the window.

“You have to make me that promise, Y/N.”

“That’s the thing,” Y/N stood and made her way towards Dr. Stevens, “I don’t want to…”

“Then we can’t do this,” N’Jadaka looked down on her with his arms folded, “You know what happens if they find out? I lose my job. My practice. I will never get to see you again. You’ll never get better.”

Y/N looked up at N’Jadaka through her lashes, “No one has to know…”

N’Jadaka chuckles. Those dimples she loved appeared in his cheeks. 

“Easier said than done—Y/N, what are you doing?”

She’s on her knees in front of him now. N’Jadaka doesn’t make any attempts to stop her despite his words.

“Get up, now. I don’t want to have to pick you up myself.” He warned her. 

“I like how demanding you can be,” She smirked.

He fought the urge to smirk and Y/N giggled.

“I plan to be here for the rest of my life, N’Jadaka.”

“Fifteen years isn’t the rest of your life.”

“That’s if I’m being good,” Y/N traces N’Jadaka’s solid girth with her finger, “and I don’t want to be good…and I think you like it when I’m bad, right?”

N’Jadaka grunts. 

“Stop doing that.” He spoke darkly.

“Or…what?” Y/N challenged.

_____________________________

Somehow his pants found their way down to his ankles. His briefs were there too. 

The tightest mouth was practically inhaling his dick. Tip to base. He couldn’t believe it. Not what he was doing, but how impressive it is that she could fit him all the way down her throat. That shocked him more than her sucking his dick like those popsicles on a hot summer day. 

He was unbelievably hard. Each pass of her soft lips, wet tongue, and tight throat had him groaning. He lost all control and gripped her by her curly hair, guiding her. His hips started pumping as she was sucking and he imagined himself bending her over doing the same to her pussy. 

This was madness. How long before he comes to his senses? 

“Fuuck,” N’Jadaka spoke with a low register, “Suck that fuckin’ dick…”

He couldn’t hold back. Professionalism where?

He twitched in her mouth when she started slowly sucking on his top. He could feel his balls tighten.

“Y/N…that’s it…you’re such a bad girl…”

“…such a bad girl…yes…suck this dick like you would suck Erik’s dick…mhm…all the way down…that’s it…mhmmmm…”

She was back to doing it with no hands. N’Jadaka was staring at her with knitted brows and his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Does Erik make you swallow?” He questioned with a whisper.

Y/N nods her head.

“You better swallow every fucking drop of my cum, Y/N.”

Stroking him, she started sucking on his sack. 

“I bet that pussy is so wet…”

She popped her mouth off, “It is…for you.”

“I can’t wait to see it for myself.”

She ran her tongue up the length of his shaft and back down to his balls. She twisted his length at the base of his tip and N’Jadaka could feel pre-cum oozing from his slit to prepare for his release. 

“I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long…that perfect ass…that pretty mouth…those eyes…I beat my dick to you in bed at night…”

“I play in my pussy at night because of you, Doctor,” Y/N looked up at him while stroking him, “and I can show you just how I do that anytime you want…”

“You’re such a freak…”

“And so are you,” Y/N smiled, “This dick is so fat..”

“Stop playing with it and suck it.”

Y/N alternates between sucking his tip and balls. It was the way she took care of him that had him lost for words. All he could do was grunt and moan. Tongue on the underside of his length, N’Jadaka groaned and the sound was deep and sultry. He kept his eyes locked with hers as he coached her to bring him to climax. Over and over she would bring him closer and closer. 

N’Jadaka wasn’t prepared for the way his body seized all control. It hit him so suddenly. He quickly grabbed Y/N by the hair and shoved his hard dick into her mouth. He took control and pumped her mouth like a mad man. Spit flying and her gags filling the room, N’Jadaka spurt deep down her throat. His hips stuttered out of control the more she emptied him. 

“Look what you made me do.”

His saliva covered dick bounced in her face. The thinnest stream of cum dropped from his tip and Y/N used her tongue to clean him off. 

“Get up. We only have fifteen minutes left.”

N’Jadaka stepped out of his pants and took off his shirt. Y/N couldn’t believe how identical his body is to Erik’s. Muscles covered his entire frame. He had a thickness to him that screamed pick me up and toss me around. 

He did just that. 

N’Jadaka laid her down on the chair and started undressing her. She helped him so things could move along quicker. He climbed between her legs and took a nipple into his mouth. Y/N moaned softly, this feeling so foreign to her. She couldn’t recall the last time in reality that she had her nipples sucked on. To see this fine ass man do it and WANT to do it had her lost for words.

“That feels so good…please don’t stop, N’Jadaka.”

Y/N pressed her nose into his neck and inhaled his scent. He was warm to the touch and soft yet sturdy. 

N’Jadaka popped a nipple out of his mouth, “I want that pussy in my mouth…”

Y/N shoved his head down between her legs. His teeth dragged over the skin of her abdomen before finding the mass of curls between her legs. That turned him on even more. Frustratingly, N’Jadaka positioned Y/N so that she was slightly on her side with one leg elevated and the other bent out of the way. He got down on his knees and spread her outer lips with his tongue. 

“Ooooh, shit,” Y/N’s thighs shook out of control, “Dr. Stevens…”

With a fist full of his locs, she rode the pleasure. He had his entire face buried between her hairy pussy lips and he didn’t give a fuck. All she could see was his nose pressed into her mound and his eyes shut. He was making all kinds of sounds down there like some primal animal. That tongue and those plump lips were working overtime to make her cum. Whenever she would move her legs, he would force them back. His hands were firm and at times it hurt the way he was holding her legs. His tongue was unrelenting. His lips were lapping her up as if it were his last supper. 

“Unh, fuck,” Y/N couldn’t say much else. He had spit dripping from her pussy. He had her clit swollen and sensitive. He was doing things with his mouth that she never felt before. Tongue in her pussy? Never. He had her muttering incoherent words when he used the tip of his tongue to flick her clit. 

When he started sucking on her clit, Y/N had to cover her mouth to keep quiet. He opened his eyes then and watched her closely. It was an unspoken command to shut the fuck up and take it. What good will it do to make it known that he was eating her pussy? If she made a sound, it would mean no more of this in the future. Y/N couldn’t have that. Dr. Stevens couldn’t have that. 

She couldn’t explain the way he was sucking on her inner folds. No words could describe it. He did it like he waited his entire life for this moment. The desire he felt for her resonates with the way his lips suckled her expertly. She could hear the raunchy sounds and to her shock he even dragged his tongue through her wet curls. 

Y/N bites down on her lip, drawing blood, fighting with all her might to not moan out loud. When he started sucking all over her pussy with his hands on the back of her knees, leaving not one spot untouched, Y/N’s mouth dropped open and her eyes crossed. Toes curling, thighs shaking, body convulsing, she came in his mouth. The hold she had on his locs was enough to scalp him. 

N’Jadaka finally came up for air. His heavy breathing and wet beard turned her on so badly. 

“We only have eight minutes…”

He didn’t waste time picking her up and carrying her over to his desk. He pushed all of his belongings out of the way with a rush and sat her on the edge of his desk. She let him move her body in whatever position he wanted her in. He decided on holding her by her ankles up in the air and whispered in her ear to hold on. 

“Keep still, Y/N. When I put this dick in you…you better not make a sound, understand?”

Y/N nodded her head and N’Jadaka wasted no time sinking deep inside of her. His eyes shot up to give her a warning look to keep quiet but how could she when he thrust inside of her like that? She wasn’t prepared. It’s one thing to have delusions about the dick, but to feel it in reality? He stretched her good.

N’Jadaka for a moment couldn’t believe how tight she was. He began snapping his hips into hers, wanting to feel it again, watching the way his dick would enter her. There was a lot of wetness down there. He almost slipped out a few times. Y/N had to hold his waist with one hand. His locs fell into his eyes and it reminded her of Erik. The way he stroked her reminded her of Erik. 

“I wish I could take you home with me,” He whispered between strokes. 

“So you can do what?” Y/N asked with a seductive tone.

“So I can put you like this and in any other position I want.”

“You love this fucking pussy?” 

“Yes,” N’Jadaka pressed forward and held his dick there, “I don’t have to ask if you love this dick, I can tell…look at all this mess.”

Y/N’s eyes fell to the creamy mess all over him. 

“Didn’t know that pussy could do that, huh?” He whispered.

Y/N’s mouth fell open but no sound came out. Tears fell down her cheeks because of his words and because he was hitting her spot. He picked her up and dropped her down onto his dick. She let him take control of her body. She was so small compared to him. 

“Daddy, I can’t take it like this,” Y/N said.

“I’m daddy now? You’re gonna take it like a good girl.”

Y/N felt as if she was ready to burst, “Wait—”

“You pushing?” He looked down, “Don’t squirt…”

She didn’t listen. Thankfully it wasn’t a lot.

“You don’t listen, Y/N.”

N’Jadaka pressed her back against the desk and he was practically on top of her, dropping ten inches deep. She gasped, unable to control the liquid that followed. At this point N’Jadaka didn’t care. He was close. She felt amazing. What did he get himself into?

“This my fucking pussy…”

She didn’t argue that. 

“Don’t look away from me,” He commanded, “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

Y/N was in a trance staring up at him. Her body jerked beneath him and as her back arched, she came all over him, making even more of a mess. 

“Ahhhh, yes,” He withdrew his hips and came all over her stomach, “Hmmmm…”

N’Jadaka bit down on her shoulder. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck.  She wanted to stay like this. With his cum sticking to her flesh and his still hard dick resting between the lips of her pussy. 

“We have to get dressed…”

Reluctantly, he peeled himself from her embrace. He helped Y/N down from the table and she rushed to get her clothes on. They were all dressed in time for Anthony to come knocking on the door. One last look at Y/N and N’Jadaka grabbed her by the face to kiss her. He hadn’t kissed her the entire time. 

He broke the kiss, “Give us a second.”

His tongue slithered into her mouth and they kissed like that for what felt like five minutes. 

“Alright,” he pulled away after she sucked on his bottom lip, “You have to get back to your room. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Y/N pressed her face into his chest to remember his scent. 

“I’m looking forward to it, Dr. Stevens.”

N’Jadaka grabbed her by the hand and squeezed while his other hand tapped her on the ass. He walked her to the door and finally let go of her hand. Opening the door, Anthony was waiting patiently with her cuffs. She fought hard not to look back at him because it would give too much away.

“Same time, after dinner.” 

Anthony started making his way down the hall pulling Y/N along, reminding her that she was imprisoned to this place.

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[theendofevangelionnn]

more hcs on girl mom abby! x black reader pls 🙇🏽‍♀️

this is my current favorite thing ever

☆ abby took a maternity leave from all of her basketball stuff so she could stay home at take care of you, only showing up to games or social events if it was completely necessary.

☆ shes educating herself on black history, even BEFORE you were pregnant she had learned some stuff from you and your family, but now since you two have a black-presenting baby she wants to understand the best she can for you and your daughter.

☆ definitely is the kind of mom to get her kids into sport’s really young, but she would be so soft with a baby girl like, “oh you dont wanna be in sports? thats okay we can stay home and draw together!”

☆ if you’re really connected with your culture ethnicity wise- for example my dads side is kenyan and they take alot in pride in their culture, my moms side is black-american, of course they have african roots but they’re not really connected to them- shes learning everything about your culture (aka anything she doesn’t already know) with your daughter- she definitely influences your baby girl to learn everything about her culture, the food, the clothing, the language(s), the music, everything!!!

☆ now if were talking black culture- let me just say, she is an absolute beast at cookouts.

☆ aunties are always making her extra plates in advance cus of how big she is and she dances to the music with your baby on her hip.

☆ if u have that gorgeous, amazing, wonderful hoochie mama type style shes shopping with you and you two end up with baby juicy couture, gold hoops with her name on them, and she orders a custom little gold chain with her nickname hanging from it.

☆ she finds it hilarious that your daughter knows some rap songs by heart.

☆ one time someone on her team asked why she smelled like cocoa butter and she just responded with “my girls” with that cute little dopey smile on her face.

☆ teaches you daughter to blow kisses and give fist bumps/high fives and now she just walks around the house blowing you and abs kisses/ asking for a high five.

☆ if you speak another language she asks you to only talk to her in that language so she can learn, english can come afterwards (plus she kinda wants to learn it herself).

☆ if you dont speak another’s language you two both agree to teach her, and yourselves, sign language- just in case its needed for some reason 🤷🏽‍♀️

☆ while you were pregnant you stressed her on how important hair is so she bought one of those baby bonnets to protect your baby’s hair, she ended up finding it adorable so she bought 5 more (6 in total including a cheetah print one).

☆ she’s definitely gone to nora and asked for help with her babies hair because she didn’t want to bother you- she knows how draining it is to be a stay at home mom so she insisted that you would have a day off, unfortunately so, she forgot what products to use on her hair and what order they should be put on- nora came in handy for that one.

☆ whole buncha hello kitty stuff, might be self indulgent cus i love hello kitty, buttt… the sanrio shirts for kids are just too cute.

☆ your daughter is consistently the best dressed in her school.

☆ loves to lay all cuddles up with you and your little girl, she hugs your baby close so she can stuff her face in your baby’s hair since she says it “literally smells like heaven”.

☆ if you have a fro shes asking to do your hair while you do your babys hair and asking to touch it cus it looks so soft “like a cloud”-once again, her words.

☆ short/shaved hair? shes kissing the top of your head constantly, so much that you’ve gained a habit of tilting your head back when she does, then your daughter starts to ask for head kisses too.

☆ if you have locs- your daughter probably asks to be loc’d up too, so she can be just like her mommy- and of course you agree because not only is her wanting to look like you the most darling thing you’ve ever heard, but her locs will end up benefiting her in a whole bunch of ways down the road (and abbys all for it too).

☆ if you always have your hair done, theres a 99% chance your daughter is matching in some way- abby loves how much your little girl looks up to you and admires you- sometimes your daughter even comes up to abby and asks her to do her hair “just like mommys”, abby almost cried right then.

☆ yk those big swinging hammock/hut things at hotels? yall have one in your backyard and you all lay in it and sunbathe every now and then.

☆ abbys a very educated woman, she does everything in her power to defend you and your daughter from racist internet trolls.

☆ your her girls, she wakes up every morning next to you and couldn’t be happier that she’s spending the rest of her life with you and your beautiful little girl. ☆

☆๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑๑☆

[weird-dere-fics]

hi dere!!! I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing :) how are your started locs???? have they reached that (horrid) shrinkage stage yet???

Boo !! Hi bby :3 💖. Love ya, I hope you’re well! :D

At this point in life currently I am chillin n vibin uwu. Trying to enjoy it while I can before time forces me to get my shit together 😂.

My starter locs are going good! (40 days loc’d now 😉🌱)

They make me so happy 🥰. And hair care as well as life has been so much easier now because of it ówò. They have shrunk some, but I started mine with long hair so it hasn’t really been that bad lol. And they’re thickening up too! Positive my hair is more moisturized than it’s ever been and keeping that consistent has never been so easy oml 😩. I am absolutely living for it. Cant wait to see what they’re like when they’re longer and mature! But for now I enjoy the ride :)))).

How has life been treating you, lovely? I’d love to know some updates about yourself if you wanna share :3. 💗💗💗💗💗

Cuddling n kissing u rn! 💋💋💋

[bnjelly]

My hair before I dyed it black and loc’d it up

[babibeerus]

This has been my loc journey so far! I’m 5 months in and I’ve loved every part of it. My hair has defined me most of my life and before having locs, I had never gone out of my way to change how I was perceived by others. Once I dyed my hair, I felt the power I had over my overall look.

Growing up I had little to no say in my hair style or what I wore. I had a relaxer until late in high school when I was finally successful in begging my mom to shave my head ignoring all the comments that came with it “women with short hair are crazy”, said my mother who HAD short hair, “all of your beautiful hair is going to be gone”, “how are you going to get a boyfriend”, “are you a lesbian” (she was only half wrong there). But all of these statements were coming from the point of view thinking my hair was healthy, that the balding spots on my head were the equivalent of a beauty mark. Everyone would always say hair didn’t define me, but treat it as such a taboo to change it if I deeply wanted to.

6 Years passed, 4c hair is no joke, but it is beautiful. I had fun doing whatever I wanted with my hair, twist outs, mini braids, high puffs, and everything else that could be imagined. Braids were a saving grace in the hot summer and brittle winter. As much as I loved my hair being as beautiful and full as it was, I didn’t have the time I used to set aside to have a hair day. I barely had time for myself, let alone my hair.

So I loc’d up. 2/5/2022

[standupandsayow]

5 months loc’d.

Did my first re-tie on my own earlier this month, only to turn around and do it again two weeks later because I didn’t do it tight enough the first time, plus I’d skipped some of them because they didn’t need to be re-tied at the time, only for them to need it later.

Way to go, Nell. 🤦🏾‍♀️

The locticians at the salon work faster because they’re more experienced, so while I appreciate the skill, I want to save money so I went on YouTube to study re-tie tutorials (watch my faves — Kendra Kenshay’s here and Keke J.’s here) with the plan to let the salon re-tie the first 3-4 months. And here we are.

What I used:

•Interlocking tools (I got mine off Amazon here)

• spray bottle of water with peppermint oil

• both long and short metal duck-bill hair clips

• ribbon hair ties

• Melanin Haircare Multi-Use Pure Oil Blend

I sectioned my freshly-washed locs (shampooed a day prior) into 9 parts (being mindful of my grid), secured each section with a ribbon tie, and used the interlocking tool closest to my loc size to start one row at a time in each section, using the 4-point rotation and spraying with the mint water as I went (never retie on completely dry hair). At the salon I’m usually out of the chair in 2-3 hours. However, this was my first time, so I was taking it slow and knew it was going to be a while. I had my Netflix going, and stopped here and there to eat.

But y’all. It took me 7 hours to finish.

Seven hours.

Siete horas.

Sept heures.

Awa asaa.

(Thank you, Google Translate).

Anyway, after I was done I sprayed my whole head with the peppermint water and then oiled my scalp with the Melanin Haircare oil. Because it would take me 5 hours to do my mini twists last year, this wasn’t exactly torturous. What WAS a pain in the a** was how I almost combined locs at least 3 times but was able to successfully separate them. Plus, I didn’t have the longer hair clips the first time, which made combining even more likely because the smaller clips I did have didn’t separate the sections well enough. And then there’s the whole revisiting the retie 2 weeks later.

I’m really doing amazing, aren’t I? 😂

I rectified that the second time I had to retie, following the same steps as before but this time securing the rest of the section with the longer hair clip to keep it completely separate and using the shorter clips to secure the retied hair away as I worked row by row. Even the locs in the same row were secured away as I worked one loc at a time. I also finished 2 hours earlier than before. I think I’m getting the hang of it — already.

This time it should last me 4-5 weeks before we gotta do it again. 😊

[brooklynnegoes]

**** About Hair Shirt **** I never imagined my hair would get this long. Not when it was relaxed. Not when it was dyed. Not when I was a loose natural. Not when I originally loc’d. At first, I just wanted to loc. Then, I hoped it would get past my shoulders. Then bra strap. Hair shirt was kind of a running joke that I’d grown my hair long enough, so I could take a pic with no shirt. A couple days before I took this, I still swore it needed to be longer. - my longest locs are waist length - the shortest ones are mid back - now I’m debating my next length goal This is happily surreal 😁 #locs #locstyles #locstylesforwomen #naturalhair #greyhair #grayhair #longhair #graylocs #grombre #grombrehair https://www.instagram.com/p/Ccy_tQhOUyS/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[jocy-diaries]

01.05.2022

I woke up a wee bit late with a backache and some dreams I really didn’t care for. The only good things about those dreams was that the environment and architecture was new, which is nice for a change. I’ve been trying to eat some thing for breakfast since I usually only have coffee. It’s nice to take the time to make something nice for yourself, work willing.

You know when you have off days and you low-key hate yourself because you were on yesterday and you really could use an on day again because you’ve got so much to do but you just can’t? Yeah, that’s today for me…

I’m trying to think of the positive mindset pieces I’ve read which prompt you to be kind to yourself on such days because sometimes it can’t be helped and it means you should relax and recharge yaddi yadda, but that’s so impossible when you have a nine to five and everything you’re working on requires active thought and you have perfectionist anxiety and you want to prove yourself but you literally can’t because you’re stumped there :( I am not having a good time. On the other hand, I won’t be keeping this job forever and I have a dnd game tonight so wooo recharge.

To try and keep myself sane, I made a list of things I want to accomplish this week.

Research digitization & archive volunteer opportunities

Research MLIS + Minority + Female scholarships

Finish hair re-tie

Pay for Spring Semester

So therapist homework

And then if I have the time…

Check that Studio Ghibli DVDs work

Read ‘Seance Party’

Read ‘Koko Be Good’

Watch ‘Grabbers’

Watch ‘Sea Fog’

Watch ‘Oh Lucy!’

Apply for library/archives positions

Complete Apostrophe review

Maybe it would be a good idea to keep a running post of things to accomplish here too. This diary, is a mess of flowing thoughts. Which is funny because I hate books written like that lol

I always feel a dreadful surge of anxiety before a DnD game. It’s online with strangers over choice chat and I know I shouldn’t be as terrified as I feel but, here we are. It’s weird, I decided to start doing DnD to get more into story telling and improv and to speak up a bit more, but the old social anxiety tics don’t ever really go away, do they? I’m always fine after a little bit thank goodness haha. It’s too bad I have to stop with the Wednesday campaign, I have a movie to go watch next Wednesday and after that I have classes on Wednesdays. I had to stop right after we got a Goliath into the party. A GOLIATH!!! Gosh darn it I wanted them to be friends. Ah well, I’ll be joining the Friday session instead.

I think I’ll be staying up late today. I want to do my hair and catch up on some of the work I didn’t get to do. Let’s try to redeem ourself~

Okay so it’s five in the morning and I’ve just finished my hair~ I’ll have to take a video of it soon since it’s my 6 month loc’d anniversary come the 11th, and I do have to stop messing with it so much. I had a lovely conversation with 🎨 and finally told her about my sexuality which was nice. And I actually got a lot of stuff on my list done! I’m keeping a little journal of things now so hopefully that continues well. Now I’m off to make some iced coffee and power through the work day hopefully without falling asleep. Yaaay lol

[uzumaki-rebellion]

How long have you been loc’d and how do you maintain them?

15 years now. Before the pandemic, I had a loctician wash/condition and palm roll my hair every five months. (I have three different textures of hair on my head so it takes longer for my hair to loc as it grows.) I wear protective styles all the time and keep it wrapped most days. I wash and oil it (Dr. Bonner's peppermint and Almond liquid soap to wash & pure coconut oil, and pure aloe vera gel to oil) every three weeks. Aloe vera gel on the scalp and ends every 3 days. Whenever I wear my locs out with shells and hair jewels my friends tell me I look like Medusa ready to wreck the world. Or a very angry Ariel Black mermaid, lol!

My locs are so long that my hair actually fights me when I swim at the beach. I swam at Megahan’s Bay in St Thomas one year and a sea turtle chomped on my hair thinking it was seagrass. That thing dragged me three feet under before it let go. Thank Goodness I can hold my breath and I wasn’t scared. Just yanked my hair away, and then my locs attacked me. They are so heavy and when they are wet. my God...I still swim though. I just pretend that my hair isn’t really sentient even though I know it is.

[itsmedianuh]

Why are black women forced to change and filter their hair and identity and with what purpose/justification?

“A Missouri woman, Ashley Davis, was told that she either cut her locs or risked losing her job from a finance company. Davis, who has been growing her locs for the past ten years, was employed by the company for two months before she was informed of the new company guidelines banning ‘dreadlocks, braids, mohawks, and mullets’ (Byng 2013). The company stated, ‘a professional appearance is necessary for the success of the company’ (Logan 2013). In the same year, an elementary school in Oklahoma sent seven-year-old, Tiana Parker, home because her loc’d hair was deemed unacceptable by the administration. The school stated that her hairstyle could ‘distract from the respectful and serious atmosphere’ that the school strives to achieve” (Lee).

We still live in a country where rules, regulations, and comfort levels are built on the idea and lens of “white america”. For the longest time, black hair has been politicized and stigmatized, often with a negative connotation or message, forcing black communities to change an important aspect about themselves, their identity, history and culture in order to accommodate the “white america” that still feeds into that racism and oppression off people of color, especially the black community. Black women are asked to change their hair as it is labeled “a distraction” and “unprofessional” in school and workplace settings. It's unfortunate that we live in a society where under certain circumstances we believe it's okay to impose these regulations.

What is a ‘virtual homeplace’ and what impact might it have?

“Virtual homeplace is a (real or imagined) place that offers comfort and nurture, where one can seek safe harbor against the racial and sexual oppression they may face on a daily basis. In my research, I find that hair blogs operating as a virtual homeplace have become a site of affirmation, a space to discuss issues of concern, provide support, elevate spirits and also resist hatred; a site of networking, a space providing economic independency (and dependency); and as a site of recovery, a space of healing for Black women.” (Lee).

This is a community and overall safespace for individuals to uplift one another and be supportive and resist against the racial expectations imposed onto them and the sexual oppression. I think it's important for these safe places to exist, especially in regards to the subject matter because it creates a community of unity in a society that profits off of all of this, from black women’s hair, to their lack of healthcare attention, and their bodies. This creates a level of awareness that can translate to active change and resistance by positively supporting one another and being aware of capitalism and society and how often it may benefit off this.

How could the lack of resources and access to technology impact the lack of equality and representation of minorities as a whole?

“Most certainly, this lack of recognition—or even acknowledgment—of ethnic Web users has facilitated the infamous digital divide. Although other factors such as income and education also contribute, there is still a significant disadvantage in access to technology for African Americans and Hispanics attributed directly to race.” (McLaine).

A lot of what we do now relies on technology and having that access to the internet. Without it, there is a lack of voicing and representation occurring for those communities especially in places where decisions are being made that most likely directly impact their lives. I think it is now a necessity to have accessible internet and technology so that these communities are able to voice and contribute the change they want and need rather than having people, whose lives normally aren’t heavily impacted by these, decide for them.

How does the Internet and the lack of access to it reflect a bigger issue?

“A divide existed before the word “digital” was attached to it. The emphasis on technology has only served to reveal the many inequalities that exist in this country. No community that exists today is based purely on race or ethnicity. Class is a major factor. There are gated communities of color now, as well, and those gates are equal opportunity repellants.” (McLaine).

During this pandemic we saw how the black and latinx community were heavily impacted at a much higher rate. This has been a continuous pattern throughout numerous different issues that can be traced back over long periods of time. The lack of Internet and access of technology is only a reflection of these existing problems such as the division between classes and how the people in the bottom of this are struggling as things get worse for them and the rich get richer. If this problem and gap continue to grow it’ll continue to hurt the lower class.

Hathaway, J. (2014). What is gamergate and why? An explainer for non-geeks. Gawker.

Lee, L. (2015). Virtual homeplace: (re)constructing the body through social media. 91-111.

McLaine, S. (2003). Ethnic online communities: between profit and purpose. 233-254.

[mancillasevelyn]

Week 12 Blog Due 11/11/20

1. What is Gamergate and how did this affect women in the gaming industry? 

As mentioned in the, “ What is Gamergate? And Why? An Explainer for Non-Greek,” article they mentioned, “ #GamerGate" is an online movement ostensibly concerned with ethics in game journalism and with protecting the "gamer" identity.”(pg.2) This article mentions how a women was harassed online due to others assumptions about her sexuality and sex life. Zoe Quinn has previously wanted to start her own game called “Depression Quest”, but was attacked because her theme and style of the game was a real game because “ it's "just words," its portrayal of depression is too personal to be relatable.”. However a few weeks before publishing her game, she was harassed due to her boyfriend creating a game that accused her of cheating and sleeping with several men. Everyone seemed to jump to conclusions and started attacking Quinn, but her boyfriend wasn’t questioned about the topic/theme of his quest. This made people realize that Quinn was being attacked due to gender and sex life. This comes to show how technology such as games can be gender based and how others are biased towards men players

2. How have people of color been discriminated against because of their hair? 

One of the things I have always questioned is why people like to discriminate others hairstyles due to their uniqueness. “Virtual Homeplace” by Latoya Lee, mentions the number of people that have been asked to leave school or even threatened to lose their job due to their hair. As many of us have seen, African American people have a unique type of hair and are different from everyone else’s. The article mentions, “ In the same year, an elementary school in Oklahoma sent seven-year-old, Tiana Parker, home because her loc’d hair was deemed unacceptable by the administration. The school stated that her hairstyle could “distract from the respectful and serious atmosphere” that the school strives to achieve (Klein 2013). (pg.91).” I do agree with the article when they mention how the U.S. is not accepting black women’s bodies for who they are, they are just trying to make them fit in, into the “Euro-centric standards and features.”(pg.94).

3. How are Virtual Communities beneficial to people? 

Just like any other social media or technology based community, you are able to communicate with others all around the world and share different ideas, issues, or even organize certain events. The article “Cyberactivism Online Activism in Theory and Practice” they mentioned, “The residents of AsianAvenue.com, for example, have effectively organized around various issues relevant to their ethnicity on several occasions, offering ammunition for executives that claim the online community can be just as effective as real life.(pg. 248).” This gives us an insight on how useful virtual communities can be as well as how it can bring others together. In Lee’s article they also mentioned, “ “You can touch my hair” on June 7, 2013. According to Opiah, the purpose of this exhibition was to create a space where people of all ethnicities could come and experience African American hair.(pg.104).” These virtual communities are not only sharing ideas and organizations, but they are used for movements that can help create awareness of issues that are surrounding the world.

4. What is Virtual Homeplace and how has it helped Black women? 

As mentioned in Lee’s article, “Virtual homeplace is a (real or imagined) place that offers comfort and nurture, where one can seek safe harbor against the racial and sexual oppression they may face on a daily basis.” (pg.93) This is allowing Black women to come together and share ideas and discuss their personal experiences surrounding racial and sexual oppression. Personally, I liked reading about the Virtual homeplace because it provides a different resource people of color can turn too when experiencing any injustice. We have read how black women are being discriminated against because of their hairstyle, but I think people need to realize and understand that all different types of hair are beautiful and unique. Virtual homeplace can be used for many resources and purposes which is why many people are in favor of this. This is a resource that can be the starting point for a change in our world when it comes to discrimination among people of color. 

 Hathaway, J. (2014). What is gamer gate and why? An explainer for non-geeks. Gawker.

Lee, L. (2015). Virtual homeplace: (Re)constructing the body through social media. 91-111. 

McLaine, S. (2003). Ethnic online communities: Between profit and purpose. 233-254.

[menwithlocs]

Loc’d Talk w/Shak

Sha’Kiir 

Charlotte btw of DC

What inspired to Loc your hair? 

My Loc inspiration started with my father and the Jamaican Culture on his side. I’ve had locs twice before this and cut them. This third time I free-formed and once they reached a desirable length I had my mother maintain them for a short period.

How long have you had your locs? 

I’ve had my Locs for about 5 1/2 to 6 years now.

Where do you go for loc maintenance? 

For Loc maintenance I go to my girl 

@jstnaee_ ! The best in Charlotte in my opinion. #Loccsthatlast

What's your favorite product?

My favorite product to keep moisturized and that’s all-natural would have to be Nae’s “Natty Organics” oil she’s made and perfected. @NattyOrganics

What advice would you give to someone who wants to loc their hair?

I would inform them that this isn’t just a look, it’s a lifestyle. It takes patience and discipline to be able to go through the growth process. Do not settle for just one stylist, shop around and whoever matches you energy-wise, financially, and skill-wise is best. And lastly, when people come sideways about your hair, inform them. Don’t be quick to snap back with something smart. Sometimes a little enlightenment goes a long way.

Random Question: If you had intro music, what song would it be?

It would have to be “Feeling Good Today” - By Larry June 💪🏾

[thenaturaltransition]

So this picture has gone viral. It may appear that she is saying that this is growth from one month to the next but she is merely stating how she wore her hair and showing how real her shrinkage is. Now this doesn't surprise me. Why? Because I have seen some crazy shrinkage in fact my daughter @mylahthemodel is one of them. Now that Mylah's had her locs for 3 years everyone is saying how long it is. Truth is Mylah's here was almost waist length when I loc'd it BUT because of her shrinkage it looked soooo short. The thing that disturbs me most of all is that this woman is clearly not lying. I've watched her YouTube videos with my own eyes and I see the transformation . But every time this photo is reposted our folks are saying the worst things. It's truly unfortunate that we still don't believe that Black women can have hair this long and the "must be mixed" comment makes me want to vomit. Take the time to do your research before speaking ignorance. #Repost @coachshaunie ・・・ Wash n Go -vs- Blow Out. Describe how you feel about shrinkage using only emojis in the comments. ⬇️⬇️⬇️🤣 #TextureTuesday 👑👑 #Naturalhair #naturalbeauty #teamnatural #locs #dreadlocs #kings #queens #fro ##dreadlocs #goodhair #beauty #inspired #embrace #follow  #cute #haircare #tnt #menwithlocs #womenwithlocs #melanin #explorepage #love #me #photooftheday #instagood #motivation #tbt #menwithlocs https://www.instagram.com/p/B2kqDnuBqsT/?igshid=1dek4y6x0p3rm

[isipwhiskey]

DO NOT BE AFRAID TO TRY SOMETHING NEW I did this look cause I’d been meaning to experiment with the locks and see if I’d successfully turn it into a whole different look. I would actually always do it before I got my hair loc’d. It’s pretty easy; | All I did was pack my locks into a high bun and attach a ponytail fro I got from a beauty supply (the fro is literally weightless too >>). The scarf was a slap on as I was in such a rush to go drop my siblings off at boarding school :’(💕 | I’d love to try it sometime without the scarf and let the parting of my hair show, maybe even braid the locks down before I put it up in a bun. Or two fro pigtails #dreadlocks #dreads #dread #mynaturalhairisdope #naturalhairstyles #naturalhair #fro #afro #lockeyomie #sunisout #sunset #blackwomen #locstyles #dreadlove https://www.instagram.com/p/B87DfR4FX96/?igshid=1bqmt1f6kyoop

[indicacactus]

Update: Today is my 2nd month loc’d. Don’t got any updates. I’ve been trying to wash my hair at least once a week hoping it helps frizz it up more for the locing process. Its still not at the frizz level I was at before I fucked with it because of terrible advise from the locticion. Just working on getting it to that point again. The unraveling after each wash has been quite severe. I always end up finding like ten or more that unraveled after washing it and its annoying as hell but I just retwist and keep it moving. This weekend I’m doing a complete interlocking session after I wash it again. I really just want to get the loose hairs in the back of my head back into its rightful place. I also really just enjoy watching my new growth come in and its easier to see with a fresh retightening. I do still worry about the outcome of interlocking my hair instead of retwisting/palm rolling but all I can do is just watch and wait and see what happens. Just trying to stay patient with the process of the journey. Still only wetting my hair to get it to lay down the way I like it and oiling it with rose water, coconut oil, jojoba oil and carrot oil when necessary. I worry about how I’ll style it once my “bangs” get too long. They already get in my eyes. might need to consider other directions to interlock the front ones to accommodate their growth. Because right now I purposely interlock them to lay in the front but because my parting isn’t perfect testing out hairstyles would be smart to get the hair out my eyes. Anyways, I can’t wait to see what they’ll look like by the end of the semester or even after this summer.