Dread Dye Ideas Novels & Stories

She giggled to herself, shoving her hands into the pockets like she’d never seen pockets before. I rolled my eyes, and pulled my own hoodie over my head. I’d tried dyeing my hair a platinum blond in the bathroom just a few nights prior, but it had come out a yellowish bleached out color that reminded me of vomit and poisonous fungi. Now I had to hide it from the rest of the pack members with hoodies and beanies and baseball caps, just because I didn’t want them laughing at my hair. “Are my kiddos ready for the mall?”

Maybe it was some tradition in the saloon to dress similarly. She was seated in a chair, and one of the girls adjusted the chair backward, making Kim sit comfortably. Another girl mixed a black substance in a jar, Kim guessed it was dye. Henry wanted to re-dye her hair, She wondered if they were going to attend some kind of special occasion. "What is that?" Kim asks, pretending not to know what it was. "It's dye ma'am, not just any dye a special one, it was made in India, Mr. Williams ordered it specially." The cosmetologist explained briefly.

It definitely left a mark on Bluefalls because no one dared pull a prank on him but guess what? I don't give a spoon. If he even dared to pull another prank on me, I'd do the same and we might be the first people to start a prank war in Bluefalls. "You would laugh your butt off if you saw the expression on his face. He was far beyond shocked." I said "Since he likes the idea of being a bad boy and wearing black clothes and stuff, I kept pink dye in it" "Pink dye? I thought we agreed on flour" "Nah, I want something that would stick to his body for a couple of days so every time he looks at the mirror, he would remember me"

Freya asks excitedly, making my brow raise as Liliana giggles, getting up. “Oh yeah we can, I just got the dye,” Kitty jumps up excitedly, and begins to dig through her bag pulling out a bottle of hair dye that can only be described as bubble gum pink. “Pink, really?” I question, following Liliana into the kitchen where she pulls a chair into the open before going to the bathroom. “Yeah, Freya and Liliana said it would be cute,” Kitty giggles, shrugging her shoulders sitting in a chair Freya pulls out.

Like I had let something go in my sleep. I walked into the kitchen where Sandra was making eggs. “You’re up early,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep. Too many ideas in my head,” I said, sitting at the counter. “I think I want the first collection to be all black.” “All black?” “Yeah,” I said. “Sleek. Bold. No distractions. Just confidence.” Sandra looked impressed. “You sound like you’ve been thinking about this forever.” “Maybe I have,” I whispered. We spent the day researching fabric wholesalers. We watched videos on branding and e-commerce. We even created a shared folder online and started building our digital vision board.

I could see now more clearly that they were separated into groups based on the colour of fabric they wore on their arms. “Samyak?” I said, my tone questioning as I turned my head to look up at him. “Yeah?” He smiled. “Everyone is wearing a colour, but none of the colours are quite the same?” “They’re all dyed naturally by the tribes, so no two come out identical,” he said. “We use things that we find on the land around us – tree bark, berries, leaves, flowers, that kind of thing.” “That’s really cool,” I said, impressed. I considered the idea, thinking that it would be good to implement something like it in the Silver Crescent pack, especially for the younger pups.

As I brushed past them, I could feel Amreth’s gaze on me, burning and heavy. I ignored it and walked to the storage room, dropping off the basket before walking over to my next task. I breezed through the corridor until I walked into the dye house. The smell of the sharp chemical smell hit my nose as I asked in. Steam wafted in the air, and my eyes scanned the wooden bucket around in rows filled with shades of red, indigo, and a dirty brown. This was where fabrics were coloured, and it was one of the messiest tasks in the pack.

The uniforms of the men were too light to be an off black sort of shade that she had been the people who lived below her, on the housing spectrum, wore, and military grade quality of fabric should never really lose it's colour unless it had been subjected to maybe millions of wash cycles, or a bleach run, the chemical dyes finally escaping the mesh compounds of the fabric. And even then, it was still hard to run out the colours. And after a while, if some of the rumours were true, there were also trials of the use of another dye that would react with the oxygen in the air to maintain colour as the dyes washed out through all their washes, as a replacement for the binding agents used that wer

I call out, my tone sounding hushed and panicked. "Yeah?" "I think I need to dye my hair." "WHAT?" Pippa screams beside me, her gaze snapping back to me. "Red. Black. Silver. Blonde. Anything that looks nothing like brown!" I turn to her and she's staring at me like I've got ants all over my face. "I'm serious. I'm fucking serious!" I breathe out.

Nico watched for a moment, then knelt behind her, hands spreading her ass cheeks, teeth sinking into the fleshy curve until she whimpered and arched. Handprints came next. Cole bent her over the vanity edge, palm cracking down—measured, deliberate—until both cheeks glowed hot crimson, the sting radiating deep into her core. She dripped onto the tile before he finished. Nico produced a small pot of edible gold body paint—shimmering, sweet-scented. He pushed her thighs apart on the bed, dipped a fine brush, and wrote in elegant, looping script across her lower stomach just above her mound: Vegas House Toy. The letters gleamed wet under the lights; he blew softly across them to set the pigment,