#sponsored haircut

[moonshynecybin]

Marc’s hair is growing back, we cheered.

him getting the worst haircut of his life (presumably as a #maincharactermoment OR a roser induced hair clipper crime) literally two days before i went to cota was so honestly funny of him. anyways let’s all hold hands and peruse the absolute rollercoaster that the marc marquez hair experience has been in the last year or so

(last 2 pics are from dante’s gifset go reblog it and smooch him)

[sergeantjessi]

the reason i'm agender is bc i looked at link for too long when i was a child btw. i never played a zelda game until i was like 9 but i played a lot of smash bros and guess which character i've liked most.

[manahiel]

Justus’ zehnter Geburtstag war etwas ganz Besonderes. Nicht nur bekam er von seiner Tante und seinem Onkel ein Detektiv-Set geschenkt (Mathilda und Titus Jonas würden diesen Umstand Jahre später noch des Öfteren bereuen), es war auch der erste Geburtstag, den Justus nicht alleine sondern mit seinen neuen, besten Freunden feiern konnte.

Oder: I’m having massive feelings for these dorks ;_;

Warum ausgerechnet 1986? Weil ich immer gern von meinem eigenen Geburtsjahr zurück rechne. Als ich geboren wurde, durften die drei Fragezeichen schon selbst Auto in ihren Folgen fahren, darum :)

[eurosleaz]

fuck it sadie choppy bob era

[hold-my-dr-pepper]

why do people feel entitled to comment on my hair? "oh well short hair makes your face chubby" "oh i liked it better when it was longer" yeah ok so??? i am not revolving my life decisions over one person's opinion of me. short hair looks better on me now than long hair ever did. im a lot more comfortable looking in the mirror because i cut my hair. and honestly, where did the chubby comment come from? my face shape hasnt changed. idk i just think people should keep their negative opinions to themselves

[glass-needles-and-futurisms]

Matt has a strange sense of humor.

[fagcrisis]

i love my sister but on the autism talking scale me (hyperverbal) am like a 15 out of 10 and shes like a 6 on a good day after lunch so its very difficoult to tell whether she had fun at a Thing i took her to, like the most reliable way to tell whether she had fun if she like, starts repeating the chemical name of dmt without any reason or starts doing an impression of kermit doing an impression of donald trump

[thebeautifulfantastic]

i really want to be one of those beautiful girls who always have impeccable hair and natural-looking makeup but the truth is most days i truly don’t have the desire to put anything more than the bare minimum into my appearances

[sysig]

I thought I was done being feral about Tamagotchis but no, it was just a lull

[nearina]

[scapeghosts]

the intimacy of letting someone buzz your hair. where could that go

[lord-blue-jellyfish]

I could never be a haircutter because imagine having the haircut fuzz on your hands all day

[freesomebodybyluna]

Got my haircut yaaaaaaaa

[desifemininewoman]

MY ROUTINE:

I wash my hair every three days. I have wavy dark brown hair and my scalp starts to get oily while my ends remain dry. I just wash it when I feel it's necessary.

Hair oiling. I use sesame Oil before washing my hair in winters and coconut oil in summers. When my hair start to get extremely dry, I make a deep conditioning mask and steam my hair like they do in spas before washing it off too. Before sleeping I always apply rosemary oil and braid my hair.

Protective hairstyles for the night. I always tie my hair up in braids before sleeping and I almost never tie my hair up in a ponytail. From my own experience, it tugs at my forehead too much and I tend to get bald if i tie my hair for longer periods of time, Also, I use 100% cotton t-shirt as my hair towel to protect my hair and I sleep on satin pillowcases( A GEM).

I don't use heat. The only thing I do is steam my hair like once or twice a month after applying a deep conditioning mask only because I have extremely dry hair.

Trimming your ends. I Trim my hair every 3 months by myself. Invest in a good pair of haircutting scissors; it's so worth it!!

Some more secrets and weird stuff:

Start oiling your hair for growth. You can also try R-89 which I currently use.

Use hair-oils for shine and can also be used as hair serums. Currently, I use rosemary oil.

Switch to bamboo hair comb as they help spread natural oils evenly.

Switch to satin pillowcases (This is a must. Your hair will thank you)

Avoid washing your hair with hot water. Honestly, avoid bathing too. It dries your skin.

Use aloe vera gel instead of shampoo when you get buildup. If your hair is dry like mine you can use it for hydrating your hair too.

Don't use branded oils on your hair please. Get your oils directly from some local shop that are 100% virgin and who retreat the oil from the source in front of your eyes only. The ones in the market are not 100% virgin ever.

Please feel free to share your own suggestions, glow-up tips and further questions in the comments! <3

(Note that none of the links provided are sponsored but products I personally use myself. Though, buying through the links might give me a little commission).

[octuscle]

I am the only smart and social guy in my class and I’m also he only gay one, normally I prefer to hang with the girls and do all my projects with them…but this time our teacher forced all us guys together, in time for the group project I overheard the boys talking about making me a real Man/boy with there phones. Help!

You have your first project meeting. You are sitting in a circle with the boys. Everyone is playing with their cell phones, picking their noses or scratching their balls. You take a deep breath. And you think you have an idea for an environmental project. Collecting trash on the bank of the creek behind the school. And classifying the garbage according to the possibility of recycling.

Dude, that's a lame idea, grunts one of the guys. We were thinking something like "how far can hard training get you in a week". The other guys applaud. And one presses the "Activate" button on the Chronivac app.

Hehehe, you're not into sports at all. But that sounds like a cool project. Shit, why didn't you come up with that idea. You do a little research on the Internet. Calculate the budget, write to a few sponsors. Look for sportswear, nutritional supplements, also look for sources of potentially illegal support. The other guys play with their cell phones. One of them says you should chill out. It's enough if you start tomorrow.

Project diary, day 1:

Erkan sent me a message this morning that he and the other guys will be at the gym at 08:00. I should come already dressed. I don't even remember that I already got a bag with gym clothes yesterday. But in any case, there is one next to my desk. I put on a tank top, some shorts, socks and shoes. While brushing my teeth in the bathroom, I think to myself how ridiculous the way-too-big clothes look on me. On the bus, I'm a little uncomfortable with my appearance. And between the boys in the gym even more so. But it's a project, we have to go through with it.

We spend six hours in the gym. Has been amazingly fun. Somehow I was the only one sweating. The boys just played with their cell phones again. Hopefully there are good pictures for the project documentation. After the training I wanted to take a shower, but the guys took me directly to their regular shisha bar. I have rarely felt so uncomfortable. Because everyone else is bigger, more muscular and more masculine than me. And because I'm the only guest in sweaty sports gear. Besides, I'm starting to feel the soreness. I just fall into bed in the evening. Unable to move.

Project diary, day 2:

At 06:00 I get an address from Bogdan. Barbershop from his cousin. Meeting at 07:00 so that I no longer have to train with the ridiculous blond curls. I'm supposed to put on yesterday's clothes. I didn't have the clothes hung up yesterday. Actually I wanted to put on fresh clothes today So, of course, nothing has dried. Brushing teeth must go quickly, I'm late. Fuck, I actually finally get beard growth? Must take a closer look at me later in the gym.

So far it does not get at all. Bogdan's cousin not only gives me a new haircut, he also shaves me. In my opinion, completely unnecessary. But the result is cool. For the first time I can imagine in the gym on the weight bench in front of the mirror that the project will be a success. Otherwise, the workout goes like yesterday. After the six-hour program, I was looking forward to a shisha. But Ivo takes me to the outdoor pool. One hour of swimming One hour on the lawn. One hour of swimming. Ivo allows me to take a cold shower without shower gel after swimming. It feels good. And I like my tight white ass.

Project diary, day 3:

When Akay sends me the message to remember that my gym clothes are still in the locker, I'm already awake for an hour. Pushups and situps. I got quite a tantrum from my mom yesterday about how my room looks. Hey, the laundry isn't that dirty yet. And I'll clean up the cum-soaked handkerchiefs tonight.

Since the rest is as I said in the gym, I go only in tracksuit with white socks and Adiletten in the bus. I look so antisocial. Makes me somehow horny. In the gym I'm alone today. Fuck, to be honest, the losers only disturb. Let them hang out, I have my own rhythm. And it beats out of iron. For solid muscles. I take a break only to pour protein shakes into me. And on the way to the outdoor pool I make a quick stop at Bogdan's cousin. Trimming the sides And trim the beard.

At dinner, my mother tells me that I stink as much as my room. My father is on my team. He pumps himself. And considerably more than me. It's good to have support at home for my goals. I eat my five chicken breasts with rice, drink two more liters of water and then go to bed. Dad looks in again, laughs, says that nothing stinks as cool as pump sweat and asks if he should get me a syringe cure. Fist bump, old man! But I stay natural for now.

Project diary, day 4:

Was horny while pumping. Today on the bench 150 kilograms pressed. Need new tank top. The old one stinks excellent. But is too tight.

In the evening once again met with the guys on Shisha. Was cool. But they are not focused enough. Juri has scratched his belly. Ey, hardly a six-pack to see. Would I be ashamed of myself!

Project diary, day 6:

Ey, yesterday completely forgotten the diary. Was in great shape in the gym. In the afternoon then posed at the pool. Trained on the pull-up bars. The fans applauded. And in the evening with my old man bombed our arms for an hour. I'd like to have his biceps too.

Today is free. Sascha got me an appointment with the tattoo artist. Before again Barber And afterwards outdoor pool. And then party. The boys and me to the disco. Man, I could have had them all! And I fucked two guys on the toilet. Shit, I have so much energy, I really have to cum four times a day. At least!

Project diary, day 7:

I can only hope that one of the guys makes the presentation about our project. I'm so totally not up for it. I already wrote the damn diary. And I was the guinea pig. I'm a fucking hot lab rat.

One of the guys said last night that I used to be a nerd and a weakling. Must have been a long time ago.

[yourmomxx]

[spring mornings]

words: 1,6k

It was a typical, late morning in spring. The sun had already risen, but not yet reached its highest state. Not that it mattered much in Gotham City. But today, even Mother Earth seemed to be in a generous mood, and here and there, a few rays of sunlight broke through the usual gray sea of clouds.

Somewhere, on the edge of town, just where the population thinned minimally, stood a tall residential complex – next to another one that looked the same, and another one that looked the same, and another one that looked the same.

Just like most of the rest of Gotham – or at least the parts that weren’t sponsored by Wayne Industries – this building was an old soul, spearing home to around three separate people per floor.

The apartments weren’t the biggest, and the floors in-between were cold due to the stone walls of the building, but at least there was an elevator. Also, it was mostly old people or petty criminals that found themselves living here. No real danger to anyone around.

Or so you would think.

But the real danger doesn’t come from within, no, in this case, it came from outside. An intruder.

It was a typical, late morning in spring. On a weekend. With mostly old people in the building. That were still sleeping.

But he didn’t care for that, no. He was leaning backwards on one of the plain white doors that led to a rented apartment, hands dipped in the pockets of his cargo pants and a loose-fitted T-Shirt. For once, his red hair wasn’t caught under a cap, he had gotten a haircut a while ago anyway.

He didn’t care about peace, he only cared about chaos. Because it was a late morning in spring, on a weekend, with mostly old people in the house that were still sleeping, and he was yelling.

“Oh, Jason, I love you so much! Oh, Jason, please, yes, exactly like that,” Roy Harper exaggeratingly moaned. He pitched his voice higher, in the – absurd – belief it would make him sound more girly-ish, his head was bumping the door behind him in few-second intervals.

Anyone listening would have thought that Roy was having a very ... spicy time down there. But no, he was alone, simply mocking a situation to draw the attention to him that he wanted.

It had been minutes since he had first entered the building, walked up the stairs, and knocked on the door to his best friend’s apartment, only to find that no one answered him. And because he just couldn’t leave it at that, he had decided to put on his little show, and his sounds were starting to become obnoxious to the entire rest of the people living in the building.

“You’re doing that so well Jason,” he kept on going. “Jason, I love you so much!”

Roy Harper had the body of a model athlete, but the mind (and in some’s opinion also the brains) of a five year-old. He was in the constant craving and need of attention and was determined that if nobody was available to give it to him – he would simply take it. Just like right now.

He knew that his best friend was home, and also that he was awake, judging by his inner watch but yet, he hadn’t opened the door for him.

And Roy could all too well figure out why. Which was the reason for all of this circus. Because he came here to see Jason, and if he wanted to see Jason, then he wouldn’t give up so easily, defeated by nothing more than a door.

The two of you were living together anyways, you could thoroughly study each other’s body parts another day.

The archer was just opening his mouth again, taking a deep breath for an extra loud exclamation (he didn’t even get to the kinky parts that he figured the two of you were totally into), when suddenly, and without any warning, the door he leaned on was opened from the inside.

With no time to adjust to his lack of leaning space, Roy fell backwards, flailing his arms for balance, and landed hard on the cold stone floor of Jason Todd’s apartment.

Still grinning, as he was looking up to see his best friend, who was standing leaned against the now open door.

“Hiya, Jay!”

“Roy.” Jason Todd’s voice was flat. His muscular arms were crossed in front of his chest and he was staring down at his best friend with a disapproving look.

He, on the other hand, was twisting his neck to take a farther look into the apartment – with a beaming smile, he recognized you standing in the empty doorframe between the kitchen and the living room.

“Hey, Y/N!” He greeted you. You gave a small wave back.

Roy frowned. Was he hallucinating or was your hair … tousled? And were you adjusting your pajama shirt? Oh, you so totally were!

The archer grinned cheekily. In one swift move - a total opposite to the rather clumsy entrance he had landed - he was back on his feet again and made his way to the left, directly into the small kitchen.

Vaguely, he heard Jason close the apartment door behind him. Determined, Roy headed for the hung shelves. He opened them one by one and closed them again, until he eventually found what he was looking for – a half-eaten bag of mini chocolate-chip cookies.

With a triumphant laugh, he pulled them out of the shelf, closed it behind him, and dug his hand in the bag.

Roy stuffed one cookie after the other in his mouth, without chewing even one of them properly, all while his feet absentmindedly carried him further into the apartment, through the threshold into the living room.

Both you and Jason leaned opposite him against the open doorframe, backs turned to the kitchen, and looked at your friend with raised eyebrows and crossed arms.

It was quiet for a while, only interrupted by the continuous munching noises of Roy devouring his cookies.

You tilted your head.

Normally, there were two possible reasons why Roy Harper would spontaneously seek out your and Jason’s apartment.

A) he was gravely injured and needed medical attendance as soon as possible. This usually happened at nights, or sometimes when he had decided he felt like starting a brawl.

Or case B) where he was just bored and in total need of attention.

You gave the archer in front of you a quick once-over with your eyes. Considering the lack of blood on his clothing and skin, and the fact that he could still walk upright, today the case seemed to be the latter. Also, the more common one, to be honest.

Jason seemed to have come to the same conclusion as you, because he was now shooting a disapproving look at his best friend.

“Roy, what do you want here?”

The addressed looked up from his cookie bag with stuffed cheeks. “Is this a bad time?” He muffled. “Oh, why am I asking, of course it is, you two were totally going at it.”

“I think what we are doing in our apartment is totally our business, Harper,” Jason almost spat at him. But Roy simply waved him off.

“Relax, it’s not like there was a problem, guys. I would love for Lian to have someone she can play with,” mumbled Roy, stuffing his face with even more cookies.

“We weren’t-” Jason groaned, frustrated. “Roy, what do you want? “

He shrugged. “Can’t I just come by to visit my good old friend once in a while? Huh, jaybird? My pal, my buddy, my boy?”

“Okay, that’s it.” Jason pushed himself off the wall and unceremoniously grabbed Roy’s shoulders.

“What are you doing?” The redhead asked, but Jason didn’t give him an answer. With all his strength, and the help of his apartment’s slippery floors, he pushed his best friend towards the door out of the apartment, which you courtly held open for both of them.

Roy turned around on the doorswell and threw Jason his best puppy dog eyes. “Come on, Jay, you can’t do that to me!”

“Call next time, Roy!” Jason simply said, and with a thump, he threw the door closed in his best friend’s face. At least he had left him the bag of cookies.

For a short while, Jason was just standing there, head close to the wall to check if Roy really was leaving. Only, when he heard footsteps disappear in the distance and the faint slam of the main door, he stepped back with a sigh.

You stood cross-armed, leaning on the kitchen counter. “Do you think we were a bit harsh on him?” you asked, and Jason turned to you.

“Nah,” he waved off. “He’ll be fine. He’s used to rejection.”

Your mouth fell open at his comment. “Jason!”

You slapped his shoulder playfully; he had taken a few steps towards you.

“What?” Your boyfriend laughed.

His voice dropped lower as he leant down to you, his warm breath was brushing over your ear. “Was just saying how it is.”

Then he captured your lips in a warm kiss, lifting his hands to grip your waist and pull you even closer to his body than you already were – trapped between him and the kitchen counter.

A soft moan managed its way past your lips at the movement, and you gripped your hands subconsciously into the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Now”, Jason grinned, when he broke away from you. “Before the red tornado barged in and interrupted us so rudely – where were we?”