#but henna is So good at lying and So good at acting the way people Want her to act

[floralovebot]

Literally no one cares about this but I recently rewatched barbie mariposa and it reminded me of how different I view Henna's intentions compared to how a lot of other people viewed her. And I should say first and foremost that I'm not shitting on anyone's interpretation of her! I just think it's really interesting

But I remember when I first started seeing posts for mariposa and how a lot of people thought she was queercoded or just headcanoned that she liked Mariposa and it was so obvious because of how Henna was always like "we're so similar you can join me we can do this together". And like... now I can probably see that but I think it's so interesting because when I watched this movie as a kid, and even now, her intentions always felt so far from that?

I always saw it as Henna trying to take advantage of how insecure Mariposa was and manipulating her into joining. It also felt like a comparison to Elina dealing with Laverna in the first movie. Just the whole, "you have this major insecurity and I know about it and here, I can fix it :)" yknow? What she said and the way she talked to Mariposa always felt manipulative to me, especially once it got revealed that she was the villain and lying to everyone else about how good she was. Lying about wanting to help the queen, lying about wanting to help the citizens, lying about wanting to help Carlos... she was even lying about wanting to help the skeezites because it was heavily implied that she was just using them so she could take over efficiently. It just goes on and on and her trying to "help" Mariposa always felt like another example of that to me.

And I think the way Henna treats Mariposa was supposed to be a really big comparison to how everyone else treats her yknow? Like you have Willa being very supportive, no matter what Mariposa does. You have Rayna and Rayla gradually going from slightly antagonistic to learning that they're being assholes and genuinely wanting to be better people, both in general and to Mariposa. You have Carlos genuinely feeling the same way that Mariposa does, a very literal comparison to Henna just saying she understands but never actually showing it.

And maybe I'm looking into it too much but I always thought that they purposely made it really vague as to whether or not Henna actually would've kept her promises if Mariposa joined her. I don't think it was supposed to be obvious? I feel like that just goes along with how cunning and manipulative she is throughout the movie! As viewers, and even the characters themselves, we just don't know if she was telling the truth or if she was intentionally lying to get Mariposa to trust her.

Idk again I'm not shitting on any of the henna liked mariposa headcanons, I just think it's super interesting how people can interpret her actions and intentions in wildly different ways which very much goes along with her lying to everyone and being one of the best two-faced villains in the barbie cinematic universe (yes i'm including preminger. henna could beat his ass)

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tokyo Love Story (Part 1) Ruri Kazama

Oh boy... I got a lot riding on this one. *sweats*

@rurifangirl by request.

Even after climbing up out of the elevator shaft, your long night wasn’t over. The police raid, the one that prompted Hydra to move all their files in the first place, was about to begin and every able-bodied operative was running around trying to clean up the signs of the battle in the mural hall and the signs of the deadpools’ reign of destruction, including the bodies left behind. 

Exhausted, hiding in an equipment room, you slept, propped up between Caesar and Chu Zihang. You couldn’t lay down. The act of lying down was too painful. Out of the three, you had suffered the greatest injury. You had fought the deadpool in the basement, only to climb from the bottom of the elevator shaft to find another battle. You’d reached the limit of your endurance, so Caesar and Chu Zihang offered their shoulders and kept watch. Your mind relaxes despite still being in the midst of the enemy and you quietly slip into oblivion, feeling safer than you had in a very long time.

But you were forced to lie down eventually. Caesar found an unwatched police car and carefully lifted you into the trunk, then they climbed in themselves and shut it. The police car left the Genji Heavy Industries building. The Hydra may be powerful, but at this time when their headquarters had come under such a devastating attack, they were not inclined to search police cars. That was how you finally escaped.

Every bump in the road sent lightning through your nerves. If it weren’t for your lost voice, you doubt you could have kept quiet. But just in case, you take your hair and bite it between your teeth.

“Your back is already partially healed.” Chu Zihang’s voice is audible, but you can’t see him because your eyes are firmly shut.

“I noticed that, but I wasn’t going to say anything about you in front of that humanoid dragon.” Caesar was saying. “You slept for three days and healed from a grievous gunshot wound that nearly took your life. He healed from a stab through the belly in an hour and now… even with your wounds cauterized, they’re closed up a little more every time I look at them.”

“MC, the Lenin, the strange port, the so-called Hydras and the Devil Clan… they’re all pieces painting a single picture.” Zihang stated. “The way he described the so-called Ghosts, it sounded a lot like you. You’re the same Hybrid Species, but you’re more likely to become deadpool. It was good that we weren’t captured by the Hydras. They would definitely have killed you. As a Ghost.”

Caesar hissed in fury. “The whole Hydra organization will burn before I let them touch you!”

To think that at one time you actually felt like you could fit in more with Hydra than Cassell. You had followed after Chisei in battle, admiring his strength against deadpool. But if Chisei had known anything about you, he would have slain you in that elevator. Realizing how much danger you were in made you sigh.

Your heart sinks. You had been hoping to talk to Chisei about what he might know about you and find out what more similarities you might have with him. But now, that date over sake would be an impossibility. Caesar was right. The world really is bullshit.

Your eyes flutter open again. “Caesar. I almost forgot to tell you something…”

“Save it. It’s too hard for you to speak right now, and I can barely hear you over the sound of the car. Take this time to recover.”

Sneaking out of the police lot wasn’t difficult. It was raining hard and that concealed your silhouettes.  The heavy droplets soaked your clothes and the blood that was caked on them. Chu Zihang is carrying you now, sprinting down the flooded streets of Tokyo. You leave behind a trail of deadpool blood that mixes with the rainwater in black inky streaks and runs into the gutters and down into the storm drains.

The sun was coming up. If you were caught out here, Kaguya might find out where you were hiding, Hydra would rush in to trap you, and you would die.

Caesar slammed open the door to the Takamagahara. It swung on its hinge and banged into the wall. The morning light swept through the city at that moment to illuminate their entrance. Caesar and Chu Zihang held the door, panting, wet shirts clinging to their bodies, drops of water falling from the tips of their hair.

"Yo, everyone is still awake? Good business in the store last night?" Caesar waved his hand in greeting. He looked from the light into the dark interior of the lobby and couldn't see very well, only that the dance floor was full of people. But you had buried your face in Chu Zihang’s chest to hide from cameras and had no trouble with light-blindness.

In a glance, you take in the scene. So much is going on. The women you had helped Caesar take pictures of in the VIP private suite of the Takamagahara are standing in a semicircle. Their arms are over their ample chests or their hands are on their hips. They were all glaring, and the target of their ire was Whale.

Whale, this man that seemed like such a powerful tycoon when you met him, that was bold enough to keep harboring you despite being illegal immigrants, had been reduced to a groveling servant before them, kneeling on the floor, surrounded by scattered paper money. The bills were quite large, but no one moved to touch them.

Fujiwara, the former Sumo star and the man you described as the biggest Seal on the Shore of Baikal, was standing between them and Whale,  but his appearance was not that of someone who was going to try to defend Whale. It was the appearance of the shield bearer who happily takes the sword strike for his King and gives him the chance to escape!

Even though the Takamagahara should be closing, all the performers are crowded into the space, motionless in a bow, eyes downcast. You recognize your official suitors in the MC Romance competition among them.

Armani frowns deeply at you. Now that he was in the light of day, you can see that he’s the classic cold and stern type of handsome male character, someone with high standards of food, drink and clothing. Even now he was wearing a slick suit that was hardly wrinkled from the night’s activity. But despite this current figure, he had been wearing something far more revealing to meet you and you saw his belly button ring.

Chance snorts and tries not to laugh, covering his mouth with one hand before schooling his face into a sorrowful look. He was dressed the same with his chain and his sleeveless open puffy coat. You notice his henna tattoos go all the way up his arm in a twisting serpentine pattern. 

Diamond, the sexy cowboy, just looks at you in astonishment. He was the one who had been the most forward and confident in his win. Now he realized that after you had refused to give him a star-heart ticket, you went out with other boys! This had never happened to him in his entire life!

 But it was Calypso, the one who had handed you the closed rose bud, who spoke, pointing at Chu Zihang and Caesar. “What are you doing with her? You’re not competing!”

Everyone turns to look at you. Caesar’s eyes finally adjusted to the low light of the lobby and you see his face go taut and his eyes widened. “Shit!” He squeaked!

The humpback whale looked horrified and said, "You can't come back and speak that way to the guests!”

Chu Zihang touched Caesar's back with his elbow as he scooted over to hide behind him.

Caesar immediately understood and walked up to the women with an elegant salute, "How did you sleep last night? You look much better!"

"The guests drank too much and fell asleep. We went out for a bite to eat." Chu Zihang stammered. His Japanese was horrible. After all, he could make money with just his face and his sullen attitude so there was little need to work on pronunciation when all he had to do was mumble.

Whale is staring with eyes as big as dinner plates at Chu Zihang who was still carrying the travel bag with his sword inside. The bag was soaking wet and the blood mixed with water pooled on the floor where you stood. It looked like he’d hidden a severed head in there! Chu Zihang’s eyes shifted to his bag and then looked back up. “The Main Character was injured in the Earthquake so we had to take her and others to the hospital.”

It was a stupid story. It would have been better to keep his silence! Who knew Chu Zihang could stammer out a dumb line like that? It was about Lu Mingfei level of dumb. But Chu Zihang owned it, glaring hard with the cold stare of a killer. If he couldn’t make them believe his lie, he could at least stop them from asking any questions.

 Whale’s lips trembled. "I don't believe it! Can’t you make up a more logical lie about finding a dead cat or dog hit by a car in the street. So you brought it back to bury it because you like small animals?”

    "Ah! Right, Ukyou! Are you okay?" A large woman stepped around the sumo wrestler. If Fujiwara was the King of the Seals, this had to be the Queen. Her dress strained at the seams to contain her and she was like a giant egg testing the weight limits of her tiny heels. Her lips were smeared with gaudy red lipstick and she fluttered her gold powdered eyes at Chu Zihang.

But Chu Zihang’s reaction was telling. The way he tensed up, held you tighter and his eyes got wide, shocked you.

 "Who is the roadside nobody you rescued? Maybe he's a yakuza? Maybe it's some other bad guy or something that could….”

You turn and look at the woman, still carried in Chu Zihang’s arms. The woman’s face went pale and then paler, about as pale as the faces of the deadpool. Her mouth dropped open like a deadpool too only she didn’t have the rows of teeth to display. Her whole body started to shake and her hands went over her mouth.

Then her hands balled into fists, her eyes narrowed and her head dropped as if she were going to charge you. She let out a scream that sent chills up your spine. It wasn’t any words, just a primordial screech. Her face flushed red to her hairline. When she finally found the words, she bellowed, “Who the fuck is that?!”

She lumbered forward, eyes blazing with rage. “Get your hands off my Ukyou! You Bitch! You Bitch!” She swung her purse and missed you by inches, but her aim was good. She missed you because Chu Zihang had turned his body to shield you and the purse cracked hard against his jaw. Unbeknownst to both of you, she had filled her purse with bottles of champagne. Her plan was to take these bottles as a ‘fine’ for the insult of what happened to her last night. But at the sight of you, they became a weapon.

The sound of those bottles smashing against Chu Zihang’s head was audible to all and if there was any doubt as to the sheer force of her anger, her Prada bag turned dark and started to drip and the hall filled with the smell of champagne.

You look at him in disbelief. 

Chu Zihang didn’t move, but his eyes were wild. A small red bead of blood formed at the corner of his mouth and that turned into a thin red line down his chin.  The pressure of his fingertips against your skin told you that this blow really hurt.

She hurt him. That thought rings like a bell that sounds deep in your stomach and turns it.

The woman looks shocked for a moment. She didn't mean to strike him. He was hit because he protected you. "Why are you protecting her? I'm your client! Asshole! Do you know who I am? How dare you! How dare you take what I’ve paid good money for and give it to this hussy! You’re nothing but trash! No different from a dog! We spend good money so you can please us! And when I buy something it’s mine! Do you understand? Do you speak English? MINE!" Her face is inches from his. She reaches out with one hand to try to yank you out of his grip.

The woman suddenly stopped as though frozen in time. Her voice was cut off and she started to tremble. People couldn't see around her, they only saw your stare. It was like the empty and frozen stare of a shark, but you were smiling, a sort of strange disbelieving smile. You tilt your head in a curious gesture.

They couldn’t see that bronze dagger you’d slipped under the folds of her neck. If this woman so much as swallowed, the ripple of her throat would be enough to cut her. 

But the combination of empty eyes and surprised grin was far more frightening. It was the look of someone who snapped. The bronze claw in your hand was enough to pierce the flesh of Rank-A deadpool. With only a little pressure you could sever her head!

You were hungry, exhausted and in pain. But even if you had been perfectly fine, you weren't going to sit by and let this woman abuse him. He had fought all night with you, nearly died for you and then carried you here. This precious person who had rushed into the fire, who had patted your shoulder to comfort you. She treated him like an object, like a slave right in front of you.

Despite the ice of grief breaking around your frigid heart, giving you a glimpse of the possibility of happiness, you were still trained to kill and you’d killed for less… much less… than what she’d just done.

Caesar slowly turned his back, "I hate to see two women fight ...... so I can only turn around."

“My career is finished…” Whale softly moaned.

"Excuse me, is this Takamagahara? Ruri Kazama has taken the liberty of coming to visit for the Romance Contest." Someone knocked gently on the door.

You, along with everyone else in the room, looked over at the door in surprise.

The door was open. A handsome man with a boyish face stood in the mild sunlight, wearing a white shirt and black suit, with fresh straight black hair in a ponytail, holding a bunch of budding tulips.

The man was a little embarrassed by everyone's stares. He bowed deeply and offered his business card with both hands. “Please forgive my tardiness.”

"Master Kazama ...... Ruri?" Someone said in a reverent voice.

Master? You turn and look at where the reverent voice was coming from, but the entire hall was silent and no one spoke again. Chance was standing in mute astonishment. Armani’s sharp black eyes were wide.

Your knife lowers from the fat woman’s neck and you squint at this newcomer, wondering why this man was held in such high regard. He was nothing like the muscle bound flirts who had been jostling for your favor before. His manner was more like a shy school boy. As far as his appearance was concerned, you could be forgiven for mistaking him for a svelte young woman.

Fujiwara sprinted over, took the pure white business card. He held it high above his head as he took it back and placed it in the hands of the Whale.

"It's really Master Kazama at the door." Whale straightened his bow tie and stepped out to welcome him.  "Today is a glorious day for Takamagahara." The Whale bowed deeply.

 "I've heard a lot about you, too, Senior Whale. Yoroshiku Hajimemashite." Ruri Kazama returned the bow.

You reach up and gently wipe the blood from Chu Zihang’s face. “You okay?” Your voice is still gone, but he’s close enough to hear. When he nods, you ask, “Who is that?”

“There is a ranking in the Male Escort Association, and Ruri Kazama is the number one on this ranking for six consecutive years.”

“So what you’re saying is…” You rasp. “He’s like… Time Magazine Hottest guy?”

Chu Zihang shakes his head. “This ranking is not based on beauty nor popularity, but on the principle of art. Those selected are considered Master Ikemen. Ruri Kazama is a legend. They say he exists only for love. If he continues to keep this legend maintained for ten years, then he has the hope to become the god of the male escort world and will have a shrine built for him to receive offerings.”

You snort, disguising it as a sneeze, covering your face with your hand. “I’m almost sorry I asked.”

But Chu Zihang doesn’t seem to share your humor. “The fact that he has joined this contest raises your status as well.”

When you look back, the wind blew the hem of his coat, and Ruri Kazama stood in the sunlight with a slight smile. Although he behaved like the one shy kid from high school, you can’t deny his beauty. It shines like water: light and natural, but at the same time, reflected the sun’s infinite luster.

Ruri Kazama bowed deeply to Caesar, "It's BasaraKing, isn't it? This is a man who is as spontaneous as a Gundam."

He bowed again to Chu Zihang, "This one, if I'm not wrong, is Ukyo Sensei, said to be the image of a swordsman, but acts like a gentleman."

Then he looks at you. At first glance, those eyes looked clear and soft. But the longer you looked, they looked like two deep pools, the water of which was transparent. When you looked into their depths, however, they were pitch black, bottomless, and frigid.

[hellowallflowerfriend]

For my Mentees

“It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.” – Sir Edmund Hillary

                It has been a quiet two days for me in Kentucky. It has been just me and little Dorian flopping around. Dorian has been meeping for food and while we play. He’s been really cuddly at night.

              Rajiv (my partner) has been away in Texas, so the past two days of my vacation have been a vacation with myself. It’s been nice to run again, do yoga again, and practice henna. And now, here I am writing again, reconnecting with my thoughts.

              I know that in two months time, I will be living in a new city, and likely a new state. I will be living with a roommate who I happen to  be in love with. I try to imagine what I will do for work. I try to imagine the little details, like the designs on the curtains, the couches I’ll sit on, the plants I’ll water.

              I am feeling  at the same time two equally strong emotions that are almost on opposite ends of the spectrum. I  am feeling loss, despair, and anxiety as I leave the home I have created for myself. Conversely, I am feeling jubilance, anticipation, and optimism about leaving said home. I feel like a bird sitting at my threshold of my nest wondering… if I try to jump, will I  fly?

              When I first graduated Clemson University, I was so ashamed that I never returned the call from the school district that reached out for an interview. I beat myself up when I decided instead to again tie an apron full of straws around my waist. I  felt like I  had given up. I  was exactly where I started before I even graduated high school, waiting tables. I got the degrees, which I was happy about. But my thought was that I could never be a good teacher. The longer I wore that apron, the further my shoulders curled forward, eyes down, disappearing in front of my own eyes.

              I  felt so alone, like I had no safe haven to curl into.

              I was trying to recover from some deep pain in my heart. I was living through flashbacks and coping mechanisms and denial. I was trying to learn at last what normal looked like. I yearned to know what peace looked like.

              I think this feeling may relate to some of the students I  work with. Here I am, beginning a new path, but what does it mean? What comes next? Will I  fly if I jump?

              The reality is when I  walked into Cherokee Creek for the first time, I  was in disbelief that I  had finally found the courage to apply. I was going to  learn how to stand up for myself, dam*-it! I was going to learn how to lead others. I wanted to walk out of work on my last day with my back finally held straight, my head high, and with warmth still in my eyes.

              In the beginning, I always took work home with me. I read parenting articles before I fell asleep. I spent entire car-rides home wracking my brain, trying to think of how to help these guys. I  slowly earned their respect, and I slowly learned how to say, “No.” I  learned how to set boundaries, to not get taken advantage of, to stand up (for/and) against things that were (not) pointing towards kindness. If I looked violence in the eye, I finally learned how to roar, how to square up, how to  show up if no one else could. I learned how to treat myself as I observed how I treated others.

              I think one of my favorite things about working with these guys is that I get to  show them how love acts. I  have done my very best to model authoritative parenting, and I have tried to show these guys that they can experience secure attachment with others. I have loved learning about these guys-- that one kid is obsessed with snakes; he thinks they’re so cool. Another student has finally stopped defiantly wearing his hat indoors. I can tell when one kid is lying if I tell him to look me in my eyes. I know one kid absolutely loves G-2 pens, carries a case of them with him everywhere. I  am so full of joy with these guys, helping them remember how to be happy. I get paid to walk into work and do my best to be family to these guys.

              I cannot believe the amount of growth I have gotten the gift of receiving during my time at this school. My heart aches when I think of leaving behind these people that I love so much, these growing, confused, silly, angry, reaching young men who have  become like young brothers along the way. I  have already gotten choked up thinking about saying goodbye to these family members from other families.

              I want the students I work with to know that they have been loved. They have been accepted. They are okay just the way they are. I hope that they have learned as they have accepted themselves, to love themselves, and as a result, others. I  hope at least one guy has learned to  turn to running, painting, animals, the outdoors, anything, “real,” and, “true,” to find themselves again. I know that these are things they have taught me.

              And, now: I  am not afraid to teach anymore. I  am not afraid to stand up for myself anymore.  I stand with my back straight. I look people in the eyes. I love myself, so I love others.

              I  walked into the doors of that school broken, hurting, fearful, and hopeful. I leave the doors full of love, with a warrior’s spirit, and I leave them propped open for the person behind me.

              I have known suffering in the past. I venture to say that I am mostly healed, always healing. I am ready to teach because I am ready to learn. If I were to take part in their traditional graduation ceremony, I would leave my graduation rock in the way of the Warrior. I would leave these words for the community:

It may seem like things will never get better, that they can’t. You may feel almost no self-worth. You may be angry, you may hate that life has had to  be this way for you. I leave HOPE for you. You are worthy. You are capable. You can and you will! You can and you will! Keep  your eyes on the future you want. Live the questions, and one day, you will discover that you have slowly lived your way into the answer.

[theantibridezilla]

Subtle Fantasy Colors from Overtone!

I normally don’t cover haircare products on TAB mainly because I’m natural and the natural hair blogging community is fairly well saturated. However, today’s feature is about color and actually goes well with the Pantone Color of the Year Ultra Violet, that I’ve been highlighting. Now when it comes to color, I’m no novice. I’ve been coloring my hair (or extensions) since about 2007/2008. I’ve done standard drug store/beauty supply box dyes, I’ve done Wella, BAQ henna rinses on my natural hair and my preferred ones which I’ve been doing since about 2013 are actually color rinses rather than dyes. I’ll dig deeper on that in a bit (yes, this will be a bit of a long post) but let’s just say although I’m not a licensed beautician or anything, I understand the mechanics of dying hair. And long before fantasy colors were trending, I was dabbling in that world with navy, teal, dark green, fuchsia, and purple thanks to process friendly rinse (NOT dye) brands like Manic Panic and Creative Image Adore.

In the past two to three years, fantasy hair colors (i.e. pastels, gray, rainbow hair, etc) have trended across Instagram and in the mainstream beauty space. If you’re unfamiliar with dying hair and especially what it means to “lift” hair, here’s the crash course. It’s very easy and literally a one step process (typically) to go darker than your natural hair shade because you’re only depositing color - just add the dye or rinse to your hair and you’re done. It takes more work and processing to go lighter. If you want a clearly visible lighter hair color (i.e. pastels or vibrant bold hues) on your current dark hair, you need to bleach first (developer + bleach powder) to at least a strawberry or honey blonde shade and then deposit color. And depending on how much lighter you’re trying to go from your natural hair shade, you may need to use some pretty strong developer which comes ranging from 10 to 40 with 40 being the most intense lifting power. If you just want something subtle, you can deposit a dye or rinse and depending on your starting color you may end up with something visible under low light or under sunlight (depending on the strength of the rinse/dye).  

As a general rule, aside from when I used to apply BAQ henna to my hair and scalp when I was newly natural, I DO NOT color or do any kind of chemical processing to my natural hair. When I want to wear a new hair color, I turn to extensions and full lace wigs. And because I love to do an ombre from a natural-ish dark brown/brown-black shade into some form of fantasy color, it means that when rocking colorful wigs/extensions, I always have to first bleach using 20 developer to the ends and then deposit the color. I use a 20 developer because it lifts enough in one application for me to see visible results but I don’t have to be concerned about over processing. Why? Because if you’re buying extensions they’ve already been processed somehow unless you buy truly virgin hair - which tends not to be in typical African American textures. So, when I buy an Italian Yaki or Coarse Yaki unit in natural brown, there’s at least one texturizing process that’s already been applied. Bleaching it means at least a 2nd process and actual dye rather than a rinse would be a 3rd process. The more you process hair, the more you damage it and reduce the life of a unit. And if you’re doing a home color job, it’s best to be as gentle as possible to prevent over processing and damaging the hair (especially if it’s the hair growing out of your scalp).

I say all this to say, Overtone offered to send me samples of their hair color and after doing a bit of researching and learning that it was a rinse and not a dye, I was hyped to check them out. They sent me their Extreme Purple deep treatment and the Extreme Purple daily conditioner as well. The deep treatment is the rinse which will deposit the initial color and the daily conditioner basically acts as a touch up to condition while maintaining the color of the hair. They also sent me a tester amount of their rose gold deep treatment but I currently don’t have any units light enough for the color to even appear and I didn’t feel like bleaching anything. So, I’ve tabled that experiment for the moment. I actually did this color project right before NYE for NYE and my baby shower. But if you follow my on Tales of a Mommy 2 Be, or either of my IG accounts, you know that I’ve been rocking my natural hair almost exclusively for the last 2 months. So, this weekend I washed and conditioned the unit I colored using Overtone’s conditioner - and am now rocking the new look as you see above.

Now, one thing I really loved about Overtone’s FAQs is that they were very honest about what results you could expect to achieve. For instance, they make it clear that if you apply their rinse over previously colored hair (especially a fantasy color), you may not end up with the shade you purchased from them (i.e. adding red rinse over previously colored blue hair can get you purple). And they specifically noted that because it’s a depositing rinse and not a dye, if you’re brunette or darker, unless you bleach your hair prior to applying their colors, you may be left with a more subtle color. The reason I bring this up is because one, it’s important to manage expectations especially for hair color newbies. And two, there are other brands out here lying to people saying they can lift brunette and dark hair to super light fantasy colors without the use of bleach - and this just isn’t chemically possible. Looking at you Lime Crime with your Dark Unicorn dye.

Anywho, back to my experience. So, I have lots of wigs lying around and I opted to pull out an oldie but goodie to test the Overtone color. I chose an Italian Yaki wig I’ve had for about 3 years now and one where I originally bleached & dyed the ends using a teal shade from the Adore rinse line but that ended up depositing as this awesome forest green shade (see collage). I loved this color because I bought this wig for my trip to Seoul and Tokyo years ago and it was just an awesome unit! I even touched it up many times to keep that awesome green shade. But it was time for a change as the unit was now faded to bleach blonde ends, a sad looking greenish middle and the untouched natural brown roots. Now, because I was going to use a unit that had been previously colored, I already knew a few things:

Rich fantasy colors from Adore don’t fully rinse out no matter how hard you wash - even after washing the hair twice with Dawn dish soap (a beauty hack to strip color!).

Because they don’t fully rinse out, as vibrant as that purple hue from Overtone was, the likelihood that the end result would be that Extreme Purple was 50-50.

So, knowing these things, I was really open to seeing what would come of this project and I wasn’t going to be angry if the color wasn’t awesome. I applied color from the ends up to a little bit higher than where the green had been placed to ensure that the green would be completely covered. However, to hedge my bets, I did put the wig in a plastic bag and then left it in my cap blow dryer on high for about 20 - 30 minutes to help the color penetrate better. (Note: the blow dryer trick can work on anyone. If you’re dying your real hair, you can just cover with a plastic cap or bag and the heat off your head will help to make the color penetrate better).

What I Love About Overtone:

The Deep Treatment is actually really thick like a slightly goopy paste, making it easy to apply. The color sticks to where it needs to be and it’s not messy like when I usually use my Adore rinses which are very runny. I recommend using a tinting/color brush versus your hands so that you can be more precise.

The smell is divine, it’s minty fresh. Now, I don’t mind Adore rinses either because it’s not funky. But Overtone knocked it out of the park with that scent. I was able to apply this while my husband was home without him complaining about the smell.

Although I’m not vegan, it is a vegan friendly product which is also sulfate free.

Rinsing out with Overtone was WAY easier than when I use Adore. Adore rinses (for as long lasting as they are) never fully rinse out. You’ll stand there for 30 minutes trying to wash that rinse out of the hair. And every time you wash your hair afterwards...yup you’ll see color in the water. Overtone clearly deposited color, but didn’t stain my sink (I used the stainless steel kitchen sink just to be safe because I’ve definitely accidentally dyed my bathtub a time or two!).

Even though I didn’t get that Extreme Purple hue, I did get an obvious color change, which lets me know that this product is a strong color depositing rinse. That makes it a very good alternative to traditional hair dyes.

After washing and using their Extreme Purple Daily Conditioner, very little color rinsed out and my navy hue still looked very vibrant.

What Could Be Better:

Honestly, nothing. I like that they’re truthful on their website about potential results. I liked how easy this was to apply and that it wasn’t stinky. And most importantly I liked that even though I didn’t end up with a purple color, I still had a clear color change.

The Results:

As you can see in the opening post pic and in the one immediately above, it’s not really purple, except for at the very ends of my hair which were faded to a true blonde. However, the color I got, I LOVE because it’s everyday wearable. As much as I love bright fantasy shades, the reality is that I do have corporate clients I consult with - it’s not okay to go into meetings with bright pink or purple hair. I’ve been trying to do brown into navy ombre for a while but truth be told, Adore’s Royal Navy rinse would always deposit as teal on dyed blonde hair. For whatever reason, the previous Adore teal rinse mixed perfectly with Overtone’s Extreme Purple to create this beautiful subtle navy which is slightly visible, but isn’t shockingly bright. So, I give Overtone two thumbs up as they gave my beloved Italian Yaki unit new life!

For more info on Overtone or where to buy visit www.overtone.co or follow them on IG @overtonecolor

[snacksandcandy2]

I actually really loved new york. Both times. In winter 2009, crying in the snow in tomkins square park and listening to Nico’s voice urging me to leave in the fairest of the seasons. I was a terrible waitress. I liked stealing scarab beetle jewelry from that store in soho with all the bones and taxidermy. This was the end of a semi-shut-in phase with my aging hipster boyfriend/employer who never wanted to fuck me or talk to me, and when I tried to fix it, the lies I eventually unspooled from him just really bummed me out. They weren't even interesting lies, just...blandly sad. Like if your secrets are so dull, why bother keeping them.

Then soon after came one who I adored way too much for my own good, a film noir smooth operator 2 years my junior who acrobatically pinned me to the grimy velvet wall of a movie theater to lick my pussy on our first date. The kiss in the rain, broken umbrella. The cafe that only existed when it was raining. The expensive hotel and how it was half failure & half magic. He had a panic attack before we attempted to have sex, so we ate m&ms out of the minibar instead and confessed to each other that we had both been sexually abused as children. He was a popular writer on the internet when long-form essays were still the norm on this platform, and serious writers were getting their start on tumblr. actually a shy nerd who lived in a dorm at Rutgers, and I was a part time waitress who sold used underwear for pocket money, but we were very fancy together. When he met me in the city we looked up at the buildings and imagined our fantastical futures but still we were imagining separate things. He admitted he was just slumming it with me to make his Real Girlfriend jealous. When I visited him at college in Jersey he held my little chewed up paw and said, “when I’m forty and married and whatever else, I’ll remember you and your tiny hands.”

Then later, skip 2 years and some change. New life new battle scars. Drinking on the roof of the Met with my blue hair, blue like a ballpoint pen. wearing my expensive stilettos, feeling like the fanciest newly adopted stray with my new cool boyfriend who cooked for me every day, and loved Leonora Carrington’s art, and was always trying to sell me on this horrible cocktail called a negroni. He looked like disney’s fox Robin Hood if that cartoon fox wore blazers. And uh, he had a huge dick. Immediately I knew I’d marry him. 

But also. My weird, pervasive crush on James the other roommate, aka Holden Catfield (never meant as a dig, never an insult. Mild tease at best. He loved it and blushed and punched me in the arm.) Anyway he didn’t do much other than watch movies about government surveillance and he flipped the scrabble board when I won, and i always win. The perfect, hot, disgusting day at Coney Island. The ill-fated truncated threesome right before autumn started, squirming with whiskey sweat in the alternating hot and cool currents of air drifting from the open window, that's the last I remember. The Arthur Russell record James put on. “i’m A Little Lost”. Me blacking out and then coming to in the bathtub, crying and spitting venom. I don't remember why I was so mad. Maybe because. It could've been nice but I made it awful. Don't remember how one thing led to another that night, but it must have been my idea. Who else in that drunken trifecta would have thought up something like that? They seemed so close before that night, like brothers. Before that night I was rarely without one or both of them, former altar boys flanking their scraggly priestess. Things were awkward after. But I dressed up as James for Halloween, I was Holden Catfield in his tartan coat and dumb earflap hat with cat ears attached. He did not dress up as me. He went to Boston to visit his family of 7 siblings and dying father. 

The all night pharmacy in south slope with the bikini-wearing gremlin doll in the window. I was less of a shut-in this time around, but always ragged, my chameleon-changing hair falling out and breaking off at the scalp, swollen lips and black eyes because I needed to be hit too hard during sex when I was all fucked up and I couldn’t feel the sting through the suffering. How it had to be, then, because of everything that had happened to me before. Not knowing what good was meant to feel like.

On our first date when I met B in savannah I was crying and he said "did I make you cry?" I said, "No, this is from earlier. This is something else."

Moving in with fox Robin Hood was originally meant to be restful, but I couldn’t. Always crying in stairwells at parties, lying down in the snow and begging to be left for dead. As one does. 

Then I left with B for the healing lemonwater light of California. I ran through the hills with flowers i'd bitten off at the stem clenched between my teeth. "This is an act of magic" I'd think every time. I revived my cutting habit and called it bloodletting for magic. I mixed blood into my henna hair dye and swam naked in a lake with other witches.

And now we are leaving again. A new old city where people eat confetti off the street for breakfast and you never have to leave the bar if you don't wanna. Not New York. My best friend sold me on moving to New Orleans, she’ll show me all the best places to sniff poppers and eat hallucinogenic flowers and roll in the warm grass.

The Destroyer song with the lyric “I gave you a flower because foxes travel light”. The little hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Anyway. I want to visit new york again soon though, maybe before we settle into our new-to-us old city. “The Big Easy”, corny as fuck, funny place to go when you are small and difficult.

But back to New York. Central Park is like a highly trafficked airport for birds. So many birds from so many places, just passing through. More types of birds traveling through that hub of migration than anywhere else on earth, someone told me once (an annoying girl at an art installment in Marfa TX). So few birds native to the area. Obvious metaphor. I wonder if the pigeons look around at the other birds and go, "ugh. tourists."

On good days Ive strolled the upper east side in luxe incognito, trying silk dresses on at a sample sale like I belong there. Stolen framed bugs and fossils from that store in soho specializing in framed bugs and fossils. Slammed back shots in some gnarly dive wearing ripped tights and a dumb hat. Fallen out of cabs and said, "leave me here to die". Traced the old symbols carved into the old buildings with my leather gloved hand. Some birds are native to nowhere. Clawing and beaking at some alternate universe, smacking into the glass wall. I build temporary nests that I remember forever. I know all the best places to be sad.

[g-rightnow-blog]

Bully

Right now it's 4:12am I can't sleep. It has been a very difficult day for me. My sister and I fought again. At first I started it. She touched my things and that spark inside of me became a ball of fire. I shouted at her to stop and to leave my privacy alone. I've always been letting things go when she does shit like this to me but at that moment I feel I can't anymore. Why should I always let things go her way? I hate it! I hate it when she change my sheets, I hate it when we got to get her permission to change the sheets (bc she was afraid we mess that stack of sheets up), I hate it when she washes my things hang my things and all of it! And even if I do it myself, she'll be insisting it's not up to her standards. I don't know if I'm thinking right but I feel like cleaning up makes her feel superior and being in charge of most of the chores at home. She always say if she don't do will I do? I will but just not as frequently as her but maybe once a week. But her standard is to do it everyday and she'll inspect every corner of dirt and hairs etc. Anyway, after I told her to stop it she suggested for an exchange that I start picking up hairs on the floor keep the sink clean(no hairs or food particles) toilet clean (no menstrual stains, henna stains, mask stains etc) fridge clean (no stains no fallout of vegetables and fruits) stove clean (no stains) dishes all dry and in order, hangers all shapes and sizes in order, hairless surroundings all over the floor. Etc etc. I agreed as long as she stop invading my privacy. It's not as if I'm that dirty but I'll pick it up when I see it. Excuses? Well, for the sink at the toilet one I admit sometimes I get lazy, but I'll pick it up once it dries. As for menstrual stains and mask stains I really can't help it if its stuck at a corner of the toilet. Like after you shower do you inspect every part of the toilet floor? She only gets to see things I don't because she is the one that washes the toilet. And just when you think this is over... No. After I agreed she started harping on things that what if I don't do this what if I don't do that what if I don't follow it what if she still sees hair lying on the floor etc etc. I told her to stop it because this is a "right now" thing. And this is where she insist I promise her before and I didn't follow it. But from what I remember I only promise her before that I will clean the hair in the toilet sink (I didn't promise for the other things she wanted). But yes I broke it in the end because she started touching my things again. How could you expect one to keep up with something when you yourself do not have the ability to? And then it got even worse she started digging old stuffs to talk from young till now all the mistakes I've done towards her. Isn't all that shit over? Whenever we quarrel she always do this and it just becomes a never ending thing. But don't play victim. Have she not done shit to me? Do I have to blame myself for bad memory and for letting things go so easily? Or am I trying to be the bigger person to show I'm the superior one the mature one? No. I feel that holding in all the negativity inside of me does not make me a happy person at all. I do not think this way before but once, when we were younger but not that young maybe I was I can't remember 12 or 13, we got into a fight and one part, I pushed her with all my might and her head hit the wall real hard and she fell from the bed to the floor. It was very loud and really unforgettable. At that moment I hated myself I was in shock I didn't know I could actually do this and she was crying in pain. I hugged her rubbed her head and apologised profusely. I wanted to win the fight but I really felt horrible about the outcome. Since then, when we fight, I don't know if she can tell but I only use 50%. I was afraid the same shit happen or what if I went crazy during fights and she dies? Yes for this maybe a little dramatic but it could happen right? If you say karma, not really because it takes two hands to clap. I hurt her and she hurt me too. But do not say this is a build up thing because we have been fighting since young and I believe all siblings do have moments like this and we, like other siblings, use to make up till the day I discovered that she could be a monster (I realised when during one of the fights she would use all her might and even when I stopped or having really bad bruises or even blood she would go all means to continue the fight like she couldn't think straight and it look almost as if she was possess by a demon. Her eyes look different and I knew she was already out of control.) I thought I would've died if it wasn't that my mom came to stop her. And that was when I decided to distance myself from her. But if a negative incident can be forgotten/faded/erased, why not? As long as it don't matter anymore why make it matter when it's already over? Like am I suppose to argue back how she mess my drawer and stole my sticker book or tore my homework when she was a child? Or how she stepped on my hair when i was lying down and she refused to apologise by digging old matters up again? Because it's over, it's pointless. Am I suppose to hate her and always dig these up when we quarrel? We grow, we change isn't it? Oh God, I'm at the naive side again. She didn't change. Back to the story, My dad came out of the room, spoke to us and reassure I will do what she wants me to do if she stop touching my stuff. (It takes alot for me to agree to this because my things is my things why must I give up on my privacy to satisfy her ego. Isn't it more fair like I don't touch her things and she don't touch mine? But I gave in for peace and for my privacy.) It stopped. It went pretty peaceful for a minute till she started again. Picking on my flaws and habits like how I like to leave things around, put my things on the sofa how selfish I was because people cannot sit on it ( my home has 2 long sofas and 2 single sofa if that's what it's called. I only put my things on half of 1 long sofa and people hardly come my house and even if there is, I can ensure enough space for 6 people to sit) and how a LEAF from my box of strawberries fall in the refrigerator and that I didn't clean and how I use my leg to close the refrigerator, etc . Can someone understand me now? Having to love with so many rules and I swear I didn't even see the leaf drop out and if I knew I would pick it up. And the refrigerator part yes I use my leg to close the bottom compartment of it but seriously who hasn't before? And the bottom compartment is full of my things. Even my things in the fridge upsets her like my yakult and milo, she has to unpack it bc she didn't like the plastic on it like she felt that the packaging is trash. Is this a joke? And she wants to control the refrigerator and the living room? Is it safe to say that she craves for power because she feels inferior towards the outside world and gaining full control of the home makes her feel good? Is my room the only place I can be in? And it is absurd when she said if I wanted people to stop touching my things I should follow her rules too. I only have one and she have like a million of it! I went crazy I started throwing all my books to make space down the trash bin connection from my house. I was so angry at how absurd can she be. I took my things off the sofa as well. I threw most of our book collection (mostly mine tho and she managed to retain 2 of her books when she realised I was about to throw it and I could still ask her to choose which one she wants to keep, I'm so out of my mind) just to make space for my stuff. I kept slamming the trash bin as I throw my stuff I was trying to let my anger out. Then she stopped me, screamed at me what if I spoil it and they have to spend lots of money to fix it. Girl, you are the one who drove my crazy can't you be thankful that I'm slamming that thing and not your face. At that moment I can't think straight I was overwhelmed with that amount of rules and control I have to bow to, and this was my only way to vent my anger but why must she control how I vent my anger as well? Is she trying to slowly gain control of my human right as well? My anger doubled, I screamed back at her telling her not to interfere and if shit happens I would pay and be held responsible. But no she continued to stop me and again, repeating on the history part with a taunting tone. I told her to stop and she didn't want to even when I tried to ignore, she was like a broken record player. I felt so emotionally distressed. And here comes the disaster. I did wrong it was a great mistake but yes I went really crazy. How would you feel if someone kept repeating non stop on how terrible you are as a person and how all the "mistakes" I've done shouldn't be forgiven. It made me feel bad about myself and deep down I knew I wasn't the person as she described. Yet I still fall for it because I felt accused. I grab 2 bowls, initially I just wanted to threaten her to stop. I never meant to throw it but she thought I was going to so she threw a red bucket(yes it broke) at me and one of the bowl on my hand dropped while I was trying to not let that bucket hit me and she started went crazy as well,insisting that was a favorite bowl and it can never be bought, limited edition etc. (Note: whatever breaks will automatically become her favorite something so I didn't feel guilty for that. She can deny all the way but if anyone was in my position, you can definitely sense the act.) So she used the chance to hit me with all her might, continued her taunting. I was pushing her away, I was quite sure I didn't hit her. I just wanted her to shut up but she won't stop and the hitting continues. I use the other bowl to divert her attention. I broke 3 bowls altogether but it didnt stop her. I felt very tired already. Mentally strained. The hitting and scratching does not hurt anymore I felt numb. I even offered her to break my favourite bowl too. I was very desperate and not myself. But she only cared about the money how much the bowls cost and how not thrifty I am by spoiling other things as well etc (And if you think I went crazy just because of the words she said, trust me, she did the exact same shit to my mom multiple times too. My mom went crazy too. But nobody gets to see that sight of her. She was an angel and very polite to strangers/coworkers/relatives outside even if she dislike them. But she would badmouth them at home.) My dad got out of his room again. She went on to complain to him. I felt helpless, it was as though I'm the only trouble maker again and she was the angel. The floor was full of broken glass bits. I was begging my dad to stop her. I'm not very close to my dad and we are not on very good terms. But my vulnerable side gave in. She started taking pictures of the mess (as evidence) that I was the trouble maker. And then my dad realised there were blood stains all over. It was only then I knew I had several cuts on me. And nothing on my sister. Yes, my sister went on saying how dirty is my blood and about the bowls I've broke that I only know how to create trouble because she had to clean up the mess. I did offer to clean up but she snatch the broom from me and made a snobbish remark that my cleaning will not reach her expectations and standards. Double standards much? Kept harping on how I don't do chores yet forbiding me to do it? Really? I told her to delete those pictures and stop blogging about me. (She had this blog about me where she notes down all the "mistakes" I've done towards her.) Then she brushed me off that she didn't have a blog about me. Just because I try to forget most of the bad things don't mean I could completely erase my memory. I said I remember you saying it before. And then I regretted not keeping the whatsapp convo we had before. It was only then she admitted that yes but it's her own private blog and for personal reference. She was afraid that I deny these one day. I felt insulted because I wouldn't stoop so low to be in the same level as her. The last thing she said to me, " I cannot help it if you cannot control your emotions, I'm not responsible for the way you deal with your emotions." But hey, Google the definition and types of bullying first. She's like a walking cctv noting down every move of me that she hates. It's very frustrating when youre doing things and you know theres this pair of eyes somewhere. When I'm cooking when I'm washing dishes when I'm hanging clothes when I'm eating. Oh she also said I dropped bread crumbs on the floor and didn't clean up. And I was like OH MY GOD, when was the last time I ate bread at home. TO MY "SURPRISE", she replied, "In May"! Wow! Great memory! Why she didn't she use this in her studies? Always supervising me in secret that I keep things clean. Cut the act. If you want to act do it well. She always think that she's doing a great job at it but I've seen enough of her actions already. CAN I SAY THIS IS STALKING AND THIS IS AN INVASION OF MY PRIVACY? Previously she inflicted bruises on me as bad as today was a few years back. I took pictures then but I ended up deleting them just because I thought things became better. I didn't like the idea of remembering such things till I google some stuff that the right way is to gather evidence and so I can file for protection order against her. I really regretted it. I felt so foolish. So many times I wanted to move out but this is the last straw. (Note: I don't really hit her much as before when we fight these few years so bruises mostly on me, at least the more major ones. My friends all disagree on my choice for letting her all over me like this. But like I said before I didn't want that same unforgettable incident to happen.) I blame myself for the incident that happened today. It wasn't supposed to be this way. I deserved it in a way or another because I know that you cannot communicate with a person who is closing the doors on you by digging up old stuffs. I was impulsive. I apologised to my dad but I didn't feel sorry towards her. Anyway, please know it is a basic human right to have privacy and be free of emotion abuse caused by another being. It is no longer the slaves era and we should not let anyone control our lives like this. We are living for ourselves. I've seen my mom living like that wasting her youth away and I needed to put a fullstop to this. I've finally given up the idea on giving people chances or waiting for people to change. It is not going to happen. Some people remain stagnant and I've got to accept the harsh truth even if it's a family member. Blood is thicker than water does not apply to modern times anymore. I've seen too much of family going against each other in the real world. Even money is not afraid of water or blood. It's made of plastic now it's waterproof. And I hate myself for always using the kinder approach but not anymore. I'm going to be a more selfish person and treat myself better. My next move may be hurtful to my dad but I need to protect myself. Don't try to keep me by your side when you cannot protect me. And it suck though he didn't really blame me much and insisted he didn't side my sister, he actually did. I'm sorry.